#i have nothing against jack frost

[hoshigray]

𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Is it possible to wish to be in the embrace of someone who makes you want to throw them off a cliff? You seem to think so, and the same goes for Gojo. But alas, good things always come to an end, even when not meant to be...

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - implied fwb relationship - catching/awakening feelings - oral (m! receiving) - ball massaging + sucking - sex in a shared room; college dorms (alone) - cowgirl position on a chair - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - protected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, pretty, princess) - heavy depiction of a blowjob - cameos: Haibara and Ijichi - fluff + angst; misunderstandings - humor bc i'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: second part, let's goooo!! i loved ur support and comments from the first story, so hope y'all are excited for this part :DDD and ty so so so MUCH for 5.5k like??? i kiss you on cheek, every single on of you, hehehe~

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“If you’re not gonna help, then leave my dorm!”

“Ehhhh, hell no! It’s cold as fuck outside; you want me to freeze to death?”

“They’re…still going at it.”

“Yeah…give it a minute, and we’ll just go to the library without them?”

It’s coming down to the last week of January; university students are finally settling in with their new schedules and getting used to the groove of the spring semester. Or some run around trying to keep up with the new semesters and the change of weather already getting on people’s nerves, wanting nothing more than spring to come quickly.

Three weeks in, and you already have stuff to do, one of them being an argumentative presentation assigned by Professor Yaga in your Contemporary Issues class. You and three other people are tasked to find sources for a topic issue you find interesting and then present a discussion-based presentation on two sides of the topic (two people in favor and two people against).

Unfortunately, the groups were to be randomly assigned. Luckily, two friends you knew in the class, Haibara and Ijichi, were picked to work alongside you! However, the bad part was that another person you knew was assigned to work with you, and he happens to be the guy getting on your last nerves right now, sitting on your couch while clicking through the television channels with the remote. 

Your roommates weren’t home today. The club fair was occurring at the quad, so Mei Mei and Utahime had to go out and represent their clubs for the afternoon. Shoko is having an intense study session with Geto for an exam on the first of February, so they’re at the library now. 

That leaves you alone at your dorm, using this as a perfect opportunity to invite your group over to work on the project. 

“You can freeze your nuts off and become the next Jack Frost for all I care; if you’re not going to do your part of the work, get out!”

Well, minus you yelling at your partner, who clicks his teeth before turning to you. His round sunglasses shone from the light reflected from the living room windows.

Satoru Gojo was your number one nemesis within these campus grounds; this was a known fact to everyone, especially the other group members who nervously examined you two bicker. Being in the same space as him is enough to make you wish you could pull your hair out or put him in the nastiest headlock you could do. Worse, being assigned to the same group as him for your project almost made you want to rip your ears off. 

But you had to suck it up; at least you were the first group to start a presentation. Better now than worry about it later, right? 

“Pssh, fine, I’ll get up and—Oh! Wait, you guys have Digimon on Hulu? Ahhh, sick!” 

Nevertheless, you can’t say that when your supposed partner acts like a child glued to your TV screen instead of doing the work he promised to do. You grit your teeth with a twitching brow, “Why you…”

Across from the common area was the kitchen, where Haibara and Ijichi sat at the dining table. The two sophomores could do nothing but feel the tension between you and Gojo grow with every passing second, suffocating the younger duo. Haibara eyes Ijichi from across the table and whispers, “Wanna make a run for it now?”

The black-haired second-year didn’t reply, only a hurried nod before the two grabbed their coats and stuffed their laptops back into their backpacks. The sound of their zippers alerts your ears, turning to them to question, “Huh? Where are you two going?” 

Haibara takes it upon himself to deliver a half-lie as he zips up his jacket. “On second thought, Ijichi and I are thinking of taking the shuttle to the library to work instead.”

Huh? The library? Were they leaving because of the belligerence between you and Gojo? God, you hoped not. “Wait, you guys don’t have to do that. I already made you guys walk all this way here; it’d be rough to have you leave for somewhere else…”

Ijichi comes with the assist after putting the sling of his messenger bag around his shoulder. “It’s okay, Y/n. We found material from the library we could use as sources, so we’re heading up there to take some notes while they’re there.” 

“Yup!” Haibara exclaims in agreement, and the two walk past you to put on their shoes by the front door. “Maybe you guys can find sources of your own while we’re gone, and then we can converse and share what we found when we come back. Sounds good?” 

“I suppose so…” you couldn’t shake the feeling that they were leaving to avoid being in the same room as you and Gojo. The guilt is hard to endure since you didn’t mean to make the younger boys uncomfortable. “See you guys, then.”

“Cya!” And with that, the door closes on their way out, leaving you and Gojo alone in your apartment. 

Well, this is just great; you’ve driven your group members and friends away and are now stuck with the nuisance of a partner who still keeps his attention on the television. It takes everything in your power not to pop a vein. But with one calm breath, you steady yourself and stand tall. 

You walk in front of the TV, blocking it from Gojo’s view. The white-haired boy throws his hands up in exasperation, but you couldn’t care less. “What’s the big idea?” He questions you as if he has a right to at this moment. 

You cross your arms across your chest with narrow eyes. “Haibara and Ijichi just left.”

“Uhh, yeah, I heard the door,” he maneuvers his body to try and see the children’s show blocked by your figure. “Doesn’t have to do with me—“

“It does have to do with you.” You interrupt him, taking two steps and bending to stare him down. Your face is a foot away from his. “You’re supposed to be here to work with Haibara on the ’no’ part of the argument while me and Ijichi do our part. You’ve only been here for thirty minutes, and the only thing you’ve done successfully is take off your shoes at the door and read your manga books on the couch. 

Gojo chuckles – oh, how you hated his laugh – as he puts his hands behind his head, spreading his long legs from their crossed form. “You heard them, no? They’re going to research on their own and then come back. Besides, you know I’m not one to start stuff right away. I’m a procrastinator, remember?”

“You’re annoying; that’s what you are.” You straighten up with a heavy sigh.  God, I wish Utahime and Shoko were here. They’d help me out with this white garbage…

“Ahhh, lighten up, Y/n. It’s not like the presentation is on Monday; we got until Friday to come up with everything.”

“Yeah, I’m aware of that, smartass. And you’re right: I do know you. And I know you tend to do things at the last fucking minute. But not this time!” You watch him try to put his feet up on the coffee table, and you quickly intervene by kicking them off. 

“Tch. Look, you knew what you were getting into being partnered with me. And relax; those two said they’ll be back to discuss the material later. They already left – nothing I can do about it.”

Your hands rest at your hips, tapping your foot with visible frustration. “Oh? And I wonder why they left in the first place, Gojo. Mind telling me how?”

He quirks up a brow with a smug grin — a telling sign that you’d get ticked off with whatever he’s about to say. “I don’t know, Y/n. Why not ask the nagging control freak talking to me right now, huh? Maybe their short height and angry temper are affecting the mood of those around them to be miserable like them.” 

You almost did it — your hands nearly gave into your intrusive thoughts and were about to lunge at the snow-haired guy’s neck to wring around like a rag doll. But you played it off with a clap, rubbing the palms together to distract your temporary violent thoughts.

You sucked your teeth and turned on your heel. “Forget it. I’m gonna go take a nap.”

He scoffs, “Good, maybe your tiny brain needs it to calm down.”

“Choke and die, Gojo!” You say down the hall, already at the door of your shared bedroom. Before slamming the door shut, Gojo’s patronizing laughter can be heard to your dismay. With gritted teeth, you march to your bed to throw yourself on the mattress. 

“Ughhh. That Satoru Gojo,” you curse his name under your breath as if he’d hear you through the walls. “So unserious���”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

To be quite honest with himself, Gojo doesn’t necessarily hate you.

The white-haired boy lies on his side on Utahime’s bed, watching you nap. He did knock on the door – believe him, he did. He even gave you the good old ten-second rule, waiting for your response. But then you didn’t, which gave him the initiative to waltz in and see you in your slumber.

You slept so peacefully; your face at peace, and your faint snores were the only things his ears picked up on. It was as if your little nagging show from earlier was hard to comprehend when seeing your tranquil state in front of him. It used to be rare to see you like this. Keywords: used to be.

For the past two to three weeks, your relationship with Gojo has become more…intimate. Ever since he took your first kiss and drew your virgin curtains, the two of you have gotten a little closer than before — both platonically and physically. Something that Gojo never thought he’d experience with you, his tiny, cute frenemy. 

Gojo has known you since freshman year; you were two in the same enrichment group to prepare you to transition into college life. Personally, he wasn’t much for the program; he found it a waste of time, a mandatory prerequisite that he felt he didn’t need. He’s all about experience, wanting nothing more than to get on with his day, go to classes, hang with friends, and repeat. 

“Hello, my name is Y/n. It’s nice to meet you all!”

And then came you, the person sitting across from him at the round table your group would always meet at. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enamored by you the second he saw you. Gojo rarely finds someone who could easily pull his eyes to them — not saying the girls who’d usually crowd and admire him weren’t pretty. There was something about you that kept him wanting to know more – to engage more – about you. 

One thing he knew from you was that you carried your character with pride. Your achievements, your personality, your kindness, and your mannerisms — all of which were displayed elegantly and were a breath of fresh air to look at. You stood out to him more than all the other kids in the group, his eyes always finding a way to steer from the professor’s advice to your alluring, listening face. 

Another thing Gojo liked about you was that you weren’t afraid to stand your ground, especially when discussing with your peers or him. Sure, you were always respectful and would respect other people’s arguments. But, God, the way you said things so constructed and nuanced, it had the tall other glued to you whenever you spoke.

He’s not going to lie; he’ll admit that he’d try to tick you off and get you to get a little angry with him when it came to arguing. He couldn’t help it. He just liked the thought of you layering out of your poised appearance to the point you’d glare at him whenever you saw him in the halls. And it had him giddy knowing he’s the one that made you angry because you looked cute. 

And that was the other thing he really liked about you. The more you two interacted, argued, hung out with his friends, or attended classes together, the more Gojo’s fascination for you turned into that of a school-boy crush. He wouldn’t admit to anyone of this (minus Geto and Shoko if his life depended on it) because it certainly wasn’t something to be known. He was okay with what you two had right now, being the friend who loves to push your buttons to see you nag at him. 

That was until you two started sleeping together. Because holy fuck, the past weeks you two have been sneaking time to have each other’s bodies close made Gojo’s mind go crazy. So fucking crazy like the feeling of you on him is borderline addicting. Your whiny cries calling out to him when he scrapes your sweet spots, your nails scrape on his chest, your half-lidded eyes when you look at him, or how you whisper his name only for him to hear.

This was the kind of relationship you two brewed, a secret thing only between you two. And Gojo was satisfied keeping it like this because it was what you wanted. No need to flaunt it around; it was no one’s business. Besides, he likes having you to himself, seeing a side of you that only he could imagine and experience.

The sensations of your body under his touch, the various tunes of your voice, and the beauty exhibited in your gaze. It was all addicting. You were addicting.

“Who told you to lie on my roommate’s bed? You know she’ll kill you if she ever saw you.” 

It was so addicting that he didn’t even notice you awake until you spoke to him, the erotic memories of you clouding his brain dissipating at the indication of your voice. He smirks, “Oh, I’ll be fine; not like she can hurt me with her tiny self.”

You’re too groggy to roll your eyes, sighing as you turn to your side to face him from across the room. “How long was I out for?”

“Almost an hour,” he replies, switching to sit criss-cross on Utahime’s bed. “I got bored watching TV and knocked.”

“How long have you been in here?”

“Maybe twenty minutes?”

“Just watching me sleep?”

“Yeah.”

You let out a scoff, shaking your head. “Weirdo.”

He snickers at you for recognizing his silliness. “Whaaat? There’s not much to do aside from looking at you. I got bored of the TV.”

“What about your manga?”

“Got bored of that, too.”

“Anyone on your socials that you’d wanna talk to? Girls? Friends? Your teammates?”

“Mmm, nah, none I’d wanna talk to right now.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you mean ‘right now’? You make it seem like I’m keeping you from interacting with your outside life. If you’re bored, talk with whoever you want. Maybe bother Geto…No, nevermind, he’d probably be annoyed since he’s studying.”

Gojo examines you, silently removing himself from your roommate’s bed and treading towards yours. He takes off his sunglasses and places them on top of your dresser before sitting on his knees on the floor. He rests his hands and chin on the edge of your bed, his sky-blue eyes locked in with yours. God, you were so beautiful to look at. 

“I meant that I don’t want to talk to anybody.” Now that he’s closer to you, his voice dials to a whisper. “Not when I got you here to myself.”

He notices your brows drawing upward at the sentence. “To yourself?”

“Mhmm,” he hums, bringing a forefinger to trace your brow. A sensual touch not to startle you. “Just you and me.”

You give him a look as if you think he’s trying to pull something. “Don’t tell me you were making me mad at you earlier just so Haibara and Ijichi could leave, and I’d be stuck with you.”

His smile broadens with every word, his dimples out to see. “No, although I hate that I didn’t think of that myself.” His hand goes to your cheek for his thumb to stroke gently. “Would it have been a bad thing if I did?”

You don’t reply, only placing your hand on his. Your eyes are still on his blue orbs, and – you don’t know this because Gojo has the perfect view of you – the light from the window made them shine charmingly as it highlighted your face. 

“No…I don’t think so,” you murmur, gaze gradually venturing down to his lips. “I like being around you…Satoru.”

He heard his name leave your lips, an invitation to what he wants to do, his eyes fixated on your lips before closing them and drawing in closer. “Me too…”

The kiss was soft and gentle like he always starts with, waiting for you to give him the okay to kiss you again. And when you meekly lick his bottom lip, he gives in to your request and claims your lips again. 

Your moans were so sweet to his ears — his favorite thing to hear — especially when he becomes a little devilish and sucks on your tongue to make you whimper a little louder, turning him on even more. It serves as the perfect distraction for him to snake a hand into your shirt, his hand already making itself home and cupping your breast in your bra. 

You break the kiss with a gasp, and massages to your mound make your breath shaky. “Mmmah…you sneaky pervert,” you name-call him sweetly. 

“Can’t blame me; I just know that you like to have your tits played with.” Gojo sneers, tweaking your nipple to hear you gasp again. “Hey, remember you said you’d suck me off next time?”

“Huh?” The question threw you off before you could fall deeper into a euphoric haze. 

“Don’t ‘huh’ me, you promised!” He whines to you like a hurt puppy. “After I ate you out for twenty minutes straight last time, can I just have your mouth on my dick once?”

“I never told you to eat me out for twenty minutes!”

“You crying and telling me not to stop said otherwise!” He stands his argument, even if you warn him with a glare. “Just suck it, please. I haven’t felt your mouth in a while.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. You didn’t expect to deal with his childish tendencies, but it is Gojo we’re talking about. You sigh, “…Fine, Satoru.” And then the white-headed boy beamed at the confirmation, immediately standing up and heading to your desk. It was an abrupt change of pace for a second until he brought your desk chair out. 

With glee, Gojo flings his jeans and boxers with ease, his half-hard cock out for you to see. He sits on your chair with spread legs, “I’m ready~.”

You roll your eyes, yet the smile on your face sneaks without you knowing while leaving your bed and crouching between his legs. “You’re such a big baby sometimes…”

Your hand finds its way to the body of his dick, gliding it up and down to feel the veins under your palm and fingertips. Gojo hums to your cold fingers, hitching his breath when you tease him with a blow of air. 

Your free hand comes to his balls, massaging his testicles in a way that has his leg jerk. He tries to fight it, but the squirm on his legs says otherwise. “Hahhh, fuck…quit it…”

“Hmm? What, you don’t like it when I tease you?” You peer up at him with a smug grin before using your tongue to lick on the glans slowly, and he covers his mouth before a gasp comes out after lapping on his frenulum. “But when you do it to me, it’s not a problem, huh?”

“Mmmph, shiit, Y/n—Ohhh…!” Another jolt of the hips after you lick and kiss one of his balls, teasing the skin with a kiss and tiny chews that would have him choke on his breath. “Jesus, fuck! Y/n, baby, you’re driving me crazy….Aishhh!!

“Oh, really?” God, you were such a fucking tease. But he fucking loved that so much. “What should I do?” You ask him before sucking on his balls again, and a hand comes to your shoulder to grip. 

“Mmmm…Blow me off, princess,” shivers crawl up his spine as you place kisses from the base of his cock towards the tip. “Please, I wanna feel you…” 

You giggle at his reply, finally taking in his cockhead to your pretty lips and sighing through your nose as you hollow your cheeks to take in more of him. 

Gojo sighs at your licks and sucks on his girth, his erection becoming accommodated to your oral cavity wonderfully. You unhurriedly prompt yourself to take in more of him until your lips reach his pubes, your throat now full of him, and the warmness of your gummy walls makes him squirm more. 

Bobbing your head at a moderate pace, you suck him off to that of a pleasurable cadence. You still use your hands to stroke him, Gojo melting to your touch even more. He throws his head back when you attack his tip again with the onslaught of licks and laps, the hand on his balls roughly kneading them jerks him to moan aloud. 

Fuck, it feels so fucking good having you suck him off like this. How your tongue moved up and down on him was so dangerous, prompting him to place a hand on your head for support. As if that would help, you don’t show him mercy when you suck him harder and faster. The noises coming from your mouth sounded so erotic and pornographic, the heat on his face brewing out more. 

“—Khhmm, fuck, man, I can’t…Ahhh! Y/n, I’m gonna cum if you keep licking it like that. Stop, st—Ahhaaa!!” 

But like he said before – you’re a tease (if not worse than him). You remove Gojo’s dick from your mouth and throat at once, the groan he exerts fueling the fire in your body. You stand to withdraw your shirt, bra, and panties to the ground, knowing Gojo’s watching every move. “Don’t get mad at me; I know how much you wanna cum inside.” 

You pull out the condom from the pocket of your skirt, placing the rubber on his cock after removing it from the wrapper. He couldn’t help but laugh, “Seems like you’re more of a pervert than me if you had that ready while those two were here earlier.” 

“Shut up,” you playfully kiss him with a sneaky bite to his bottom lip. Then, you mount and align your cunt on his dick, the glans kissing your wet labia. “Hmmm, fuck…”

“Relax, cutie,” he kisses you on the cheek while his hands fondle your breasts. 

You slowly descend your slit onto him, the tip of his cock pushing into the entrance of your vagina. A couple of exhales and inhales keep you steady when inserting him into you, not letting the pain distract you from the task at hand. And the both of you moan in unison when it makes it in, your hips leisurely coming down on him until your ass rests on his thighs. 

You grind on him with the roll of your hips, evoking choked intakes of air from him as a hand goes to your ass with vigor. His face to your chest while the other hand plays with one mound. His lips found a nipple to pop into his mouth to suck on. 

With a slow pace, you rock your hips onto him. Your legs bent for your feet to be on his knees, the chair solid enough to withstand you bouncing on Gojo’s dick with repetition.  

“Hoohhh, ohhhh, mmmm,” your hums are expressed in tunes. The curve of his cock is so fucking good, scraping your insides with precision. You couldn’t help but increase the speed just a little bit. 

Gojo keeps sucking on your nipple; the grazes of his teeth and pushing the bud up to the roof of his mouth only fuels more quivers to travel down your bouncing figure. Both of his hands now under your skirt to feel the flesh of your ass under his hungry grasp. He kneads your asscheeks with every thrust to your chasm, and your shrieks get louder by the second. 

“—Mmmph! Shit, shit, you feel so good, pretty,” he finally lets go of your hardened nipple, burying his face to your chest. “So fucking good for me…fuhuuuucck!

You could feel your cunt contract around him; every graze to your sensitive spots prompted your walls to grip around him. He hisses, looking up to see your expression as you ride him out. Fuck, you looked so good on top of him like this. He’ll add this position to the list of things to do again with you.

You peer down to see that Gojo is staring at you, and you quickly bring a hand to cover his eyes. “—Ahhahhn, d-don’t look at me like that! Yer soo embarrassing…!” 

He only chuckles at your shy demeanor, especially during this. But he humors you, not fighting your makeshift blind for him to see you wholly. He’s seen it all already — felt it all, too. And he could never get enough. 

“Ooooh, Satoruuu—Nnaaahh!” He loves how you say his name, your hand traveling to his hair to grab in tuffs. “Oh, fuck, ‘toruuu, I’m gonna cummm…!”

“—Hnngh! Yeah, baby?” Oh, he knows. The way you’re grinding to and fro on his pelvis tells him so. “Go ahead, princess. Clench on me and ride it out.”

And with that, your hips go to an erratic pace that has the both of you holding for dear life. The squeeze of your inner walls clenching on him almost makes him choke on his spit, the nails of his fingertips forming crescents on your skin. And you scream at it, slamming your ass onto him as you both climb up to orgasm. 

Within seconds, it hits the both of you like a train. This had to be Gojo’s favorite part of the entire thing, experiencing having your folds clamp and flutter around him as you cry for him. It took everything in his power not to come with you because he wants to have you on him a little longer. You just felt too good to let go — too addicted to your body to be done with one round.

When the contractions subside while your slurred howls get quieter, Gojo gives you a few minutes to let your body be free from the aftershocks. He knows your body is extra sensitive now, rubbing circles on your back and placing chaste kisses on your clavicle. You hum under his lips, letting the wave of your crescendo exude out from you quietly. 

However, since you wanted to be such a tease, why not be a tease back? At least, that’s what Gojo thought before he threw your cunt another snap of the hips, his cock jabbing into your delicate walls that haven’t recovered yet. A sharp cry comes from your puffy lips, the hand covering Gojo’s eyes finally freeing him to see you. 

He grins with hooded azure eyes, “Sorry, cutie, but I didn’t get to finish. Wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t get to have fun of my own, right?” 

You chew on your lip with trenched brows before bringing your face to his. “Don’t you get carried away like last time, Satoru.”

“No promises, princess~” he sings to your ear before humming into your lips. 

As mentioned before, Gojo doesn’t hate you — he just hates that he can’t fully express liking you. 

But having you on top of him like this, in his embrace, is a nice change of pace he’ll happily get used to.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Okay, everyone, class dismissed! Thank you for your time, and see you all on Friday.”

Professor Naga closes up the last class for today, and the students all get up from the seats of their elevated rows to pack up and leave. The clock is ten minutes before seven o’clock, the winter darkness already claiming the sky with a sheet of night. Students are either famished and heading to the dining hall for food, going straight to their dorms or homes, or staying behind for last-minute conversations.

Gojo was one of the latter, deciding to stay behind to chat with the group for a bit. After packing his backpack and putting on his coat, he slings from the table to jump to the row below him, where you were talking with Haibara and Ijichi. 

You watch his stunt, ready to lecture, “Jesus, Gojo, what’s all that for? You could’ve just walked around.”

“Ehhhh, why would I do that? That’s so lame.” He comes and bends close to you enough to slang his arm around your shoulders. 

But you click your teeth and try to maneuver away from his tall figure. “You’re lame,” you mutter under your breath.

However, Gojo’s ears perked with furrowed brows. “What did you say?”

“You heard me, you lame white furby!” You repeat yourself with a huff and the snow-haired student gawks at your brazenness. 

The two of you argue again; students passing by silently exit the class, others stand and watch, and Professor Yaga can only sigh at yet another altercation between you two. 

However, it quickly dissipates when Haibara laughs from his seat. “You two, there’s never a dull moment.”

You and Gojo blink at the dark brunette before removing Gojo’s hand from your shoulders. “Hmph, it’s not like it’s my fault; he’s the one who starts it.”

“Oh, what could I possibly do to make Y/n so upset with me this time?” He pushes up his sunglasses, snickering at the scowl you send him. 

Ichiji, being the passive second-year he is, meekly changes the topic from the row below you three. “On some brighter news, at least we did well on the presentation.” 

“That’s right!” Haibara happily agrees with the statement, leaning against the chair with his hands behind his head. “Professor Yaga seemed really pleased with our arguments; I don’t think he intervened even once. Plus, he said many good things about how we handled the topic. Nice one, team!” 

The raven-haired one hums at the other’s exclamation. “I think most of it goes to how Y/n and Gojo bounced off each other’s arguments. How you two pulled up examples from the articles yet remained dignified with your viewpoints was cool to witness. I even saw some students be engaged with the conversation, many amazed with how Y/n refuted Gojo’s arguments elegantly and respectfully.”

But most of all, what the two sophomores wanted to mention was that there was no yelling. To them, the professor, and all the students of this class, you and Gojo presented your presentation without a single tone of malice, no pointless teasing, no name-calling, nothing! It was a civil conversation between two opposing sides. To everyone’s surprise — and thankful stars — today was a success.

You chuckle nervously at the praise. “Oh, come on, you two, don’t let me and Gojo take all the credit. You guys did your part. Especially you, Ichiji; you were an exceptional help for my side and finding sources I could build off from.”

Gojo, on the other hand, rolls his eyes. “Psssh, don’t butter them up like that; without us, they would’ve failed this presentation big time. No offense.” He was forced to say that when you called him by his last name and hit him with your elbow.

None taken, the two younger friends say to themselves unbeknownst to each other. 

The tall one continues, “Besides, you were the one who did most of the work. I slacked off until the last minute when you whipped me into shape.” Gojo brings his hand on top of your head for a pat. The action surprised you enough to flinch a bit. “Nice work like always, Y/n.”

Were the stars aligned differently, or did Gojo just compliment you? It certainly took you aback, especially the two others who silently kept their observation to themselves. 

You could only look at his complacent look for a few seconds before you realized the warmth of your cheeks became stronger. Averting your eyes, you remove his hand from your head. “Thanks, Gojo…” you express gratitude. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

A cheeky smile, his dimples prominent to blind you. “Awww, would you two look at that? They’re complimenting me, too~” Another bump to the chest has him cackling like a child, and you shake your head with rolled eyes.

The two younger students observe the scene before Haibara forcibly stretches and yawns to catch the two’s attention. “Man, I’m so hungry; I skipped lunch to prepare for this presentation. Me and Ijichi are gonna meet up with Nanami at the dining hall. You guys wanna come?”

You instantly beam at the proposal; who are you to refuse a dinner with your friends? “Sure! I’d love to…Oh! Wait, let me use the restroom and fill my water bottle.”

You rummage through your backpack for your water bottle before exiting the classroom. The boys watch you descend from row after row, and Gojo says, “Don’t take too long; I’ll convince them to leave without you.”

“Hmph, go ahead and try! They invited me; I don’t know who told you to invite yourself.” You stick your tongue out at him before opening and closing the door behind you. 

Gojo watches you with a smile still plastered on his face for a few seconds before Ijichi makes a tiny cough to catch his attention, the sunglasses-wearing junior turning to look back down to the other two. He notes the albeit cheesy-smiling faces they harbor, and he lifts a brow. “The hell are you two smiling for?”

The raven-haired sophomore squeaks at the sudden firm tone, “N–Nothing!”

“Pfft, oh come on, Kiyo; let’s not act like we didn’t see what we just saw.”

Gojo catches the nuance of Haibara’s comment. “Saw what?”

“You’re over here talking about our faces, but you’re the one who’s smiling at Y/n as they leave the door?” The brunette sophomore sends a wink to his junior, whose face doesn’t change at the comment.

“And your point is?”

“Well, it seems — to me, at least —  there might be something going on with you and Y/n?” 

Gojo was prepared for that, opening his mouth to interject quickly. However, the dark-haired other beat him to the punch. “Now that you mention it, Gojo and Y/n have been kind of…stable? There's still the usual arguments, but those haven't happened as much since last week…”

“Right!?” Haibara points at Ijichi with exclamation, making the other second-year flinch. “For some reason, things seem to be a little quieter with the two of them now, not to mention them hanging out way more often. Everyone’s been talking about it; even Geto and Shoko asked if Gojo had done anything that made Y/n passive?”

“I asked Nanami about it on Monday; he thinks maybe Y/n finally knocked some sense into Gojo’s childish brain to have him be so civil to engage without yelling their head off.”

“Pffthaha, I wouldn’t go that far. Y/n did just kick him in the shin yesterday for scaring them from behind.”

“Ahh, yes, well, that was deserved.”

“You two realize I’m still standing right the fuck here, right?” No, they hadn’t because the two discerned the twitch of Gojo’s brow after conversing about the tall, white-haired boy. 

“But it’s true!”

Another voice enters the set, making Gojo raise his head, and the other two turn to their left. It was some girl and her friend. Gojo knew of her; she sat next to him during class. Again, he knew of her, meaning she had no significance to his knowledge.

And yet, she speaks to the three boys. “You and Y/n have gotten a lot more close these past weeks compared to previous semesters—“

“Real close, too!” Their friend adds on from behind. “It’s as if you two are like a couple.”

“So…Are you two….a thing?”

Gojo could tell from a mile away what this was. Obviously, the first girl has a thing for him — he can see the anxiousness from the twiddle of her thumbs and avoidant eye contact. Although he wasn’t interested, he couldn’t even answer the question the way he wanted. What the hell could he say: that you two are in a secret relationship? He knows you’d have his grave ready before he could finish that confession.

And he can’t say the two of you are in any relationship either; it’s not what you would’ve told them. To everyone else, you and Gojo are friends who would preferably be caught dead rather than lying in bed together. So, might as well keep that facade up.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” he starts with the push of his sunglasses. “Y/n is a pretty good friend, and I’d like to keep it at that.”

Haibara and Ijichi turn from Gojo to look at each other and shrug. Before turning back, something caught their eye that caused the two sophomores’ skin to turn white.

Ijichi tries to prevent Gojo from speaking further. “G-Gojo—“

However, the tall one doesn’t listen. “I mean, sure, they got a nice personality and are independent…Kinda pretty, too, not gonna lie. But they’re not really my type. I mean, have you seen them? Just a little person who likes to find trivial stuff to yell at me over. Angry at the world around them, I’d say.“

“Go. Jo.” Haibara says the junior’s name through gritted teeth, bringing his hand up by his neck and drawing an imaginary horizontal line back and forth — a gesture for Gojo to not say anymore. But unfortunately, the sign wasn’t seen, and the words kept pouring out.  

“And to be honest, can you imagine? Me and Y/n, a couple? Jesus Christ, that would be fucking exhausting to deal with, especially with someone so boring and too uncute like them. I’ve seen prettier, been with better. I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with them—“

“SATORU GOJO!”

Now — that sudden burst of yell from a loud, masculine voice — that was what got Gojo’s attention. It’s what got the attention of everyone else in the room. The snow-haired student jerks to look at the professor standing at the front, the older man with a deep frown. “What?

The professor doesn’t answer him. Instead, he points to the left of him with his chin with a huff. With common sense, Gojo turns behind him to see where the older man points. And at that moment, he felt his very being drop to the soles of his feet. Haibara and Ijichi took a slow breath in unison at the immediate tension.

Behind him stood you, a lone figure holding their water bottle within three arm’s length away from the group. But that was sufficient enough for you to have heard everything said. 

Breathing suddenly felt impossible for Gojo; his entire body was stiff under your gaze. His shades could hide his eyes, but he wasn’t sure it could shield the instant shame that slapped him across the face from you. 

And that was another thing: the look you harbored was indecipherable — the true definition of disengagement. There were no widened eyes, quivering lips, or shaky hands. You stood plainly and looked as though you were detached from the entire situation. And that was what scared him the most.

This was strike one.

He dared not move when you began walking up, and your eyes then shifted to ignore his presence. “Hey, Yu,” the brunette straightened his posture at the use of the first name. “I think I’ll have to decline on that dinner offer. I’m a little tired and have a paper I need to work on…Maybe next time?”

“Uhh, yeah, sure, no problem.” He answers with a sweat.

Wait a second. Gojo tries to call for you, “Y/n—“

“Ijichi,” but you immediately shut him down and directed your attention to the other sophomore friend as you put on your coat and stuffed your water bottle back into your bag. “Be sure to submit the presentation template and sources to the course site before the end of the day, please.”

“U–Uhh, already done, Y/n.” He squeaks while reassuring.

Wait, please. The tall one tries again, “Wait, Y/n—“

“Good.” You sling your backpack on, refusing to look at the person trying to talk to you. “Well, I’ll be seeing you, then.” And with that, you turn on your heel and head down the row to leave.

No, wait, stop— “Y/n, wait!” This was strike two. 

Gojo doesn’t hesitate to call out to you. At that moment, he follows you to the class steps where you were a row down left from the door. He grabs your hand without thinking, the size of your palm captured by his slender fingers. He knew it was a risky move, but he had to — he had to get you to talk with him right now, if not ever. Because the latter is something he isn’t ready for, something he didn’t think would be a possibility.

And yet, he will learn this lesson of being prepared for the impossible when you rapidly turn to him. Strike three.

SLAP!

Have you ever seen someone get smacked in the face so hard that their sunglasses come off? The remaining two girls who witnessed it know for sure now. Haibara and Ijichi won’t admit to it as they immediately turn to the other side of the room when they saw your hand move. But please believe they winced at the sound of the impact. The same goes for Professor Yaga, who was too stunned to speak, yet it was a valid outcome. 

Gojo didn’t move a single limb, allowing the stinging feeling on his cheek to course through his facial muscles. His eyes were glued to the carpeted ground; he knew that’s where they were supposed to be. And you snatched your hand away from his grasp, leaving his fingers to suffer in forced loneliness.

“You…you think it’s all fun and games to say stuff like that when I turn my back for a few minutes, huh?” He can see your hand palpitate from his peripheral; the anger depicted alone was enough to interpret. And the tremble in your voice? It felt like an arrow to his being. “…Look at me.”

He’d be a fool to have you repeat yourself; he has lost that right to toy with you now. With a slow inhale, Gojo rotates his head at you, azure eyes tracking up your figure to your face. And when it lands at that destination, his heart is shot down.

Tears stream down vexed, watery eyes. Your brows furrowed, and your bottom lip chewed in a terrible attempt to stop it from quivering. The rise and fall of your shoulders as you moderate your breathing, trying so hard not to let your temper dwell into a deeper phase of ugly. It was bad enough you’re crying in public, in front of your peers, your teacher — and it was because of him. 

“From this day forward,” you fight your sniffles to say your statement as clearly as possible. “Don’t you ever talk to me, Satoru Gojo. Enjoy your life without something as boring as me.”

And with that, you dismiss yourself from him and the class altogether, the room silent even after the slam of the door closed. No one says anything, too shocked from the event to utter a letter. 

The silence aids the ringing in Gojo’s ears, his breathing still having trouble maintaining a balanced front. The cheek you slapped burned with pain; he’s sure the skin is as red as a cherry. 

Oh, fuck.

He brings a hand to his face, his body fighting the trembling. The ringing in his ears worsens, along with the pounding in his head that beats like a drum. His eyes stuck to the ground below him, choosing to focus on something inanimate and not living. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck—

All he could think of in this time and place was you. Memories flashing right before him, of you and only you. He can hear the way you say his name, both in vexation and in sweet tunes. Your smiles, your frowns, your huffs, your whispers. When your eyebrows scrunch whenever you express worry for him, how you’re never afraid to stand up against him when making a point, the smile that’s been blinding him for many days and nights — the smile he wouldn’t mind seeing for eternity.

All those memories were one stab to his heart after another. And every time a recollection ended, a flash of your crying face would return to haunt him. Tears that weren’t meant to be there but were, and warm feelings you expressed with him were gone the moment he saw your eyes void of feelings for him. At least, that’s what he saw.

He hurt you. That was the only revelation that haunted him where he stood, making his voice falter from confidence. It was a revelation he never meant to bring about. And now that it exists and he sees the damage, nothing would be better for him now than the ground beneath him swallowing him whole.

“What…the fuck…”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[formulawolff]

night swim - t.w.

pairing: nanny!reader x single dad!toto wolff

word count: 1.5k

warnings: poorly translated german, age gap relationship, inappropriate work relationships, oral (f! receiving), boundaries being crossed, pet names (lots of pet names ok), cursing, toto being a munch, yadayadayada

"do you mind if i join you?"

the words are low, thick with his accent as you glance over your shoulder. the heat from the water seeps into your muscles, bubbles foaming at the surface as the jets run, creating tiny currents.

"i don't mind!" you chirp, "the more, the merrier!"

toto wolff, team principal of the mercedes-amg petronas formula one team stands behind you, peeling off the heather gray tee that clung to his frame. he's careful with his movements, ensuring that he does not make too much noise as he strolls over to the ladder.

he steps in, bliss rippling across his face as the warmth envelops his exposed skin. he settles in the tub merely a few feet across from you, his broad shoulders leaning against the edge.

"now, this is nice. i can see why you've been coming out here these last few nights."

bringing your hand to your mouth, you stifle a giggle, "never been in a hot tub before, mr. wolff?"

"please," he rolls his eyes, tutting, "call me toto."

"well toto," you emphasize his name, clicking your tongue, "my question still stands."

when you were offered to accompany mr. wolff and the kids for a weekend getaway in the mountains surrounding zermatt, how could you have refused? especially when it was made very clear that mr. wolff was going to cover all of your expenses. while you profusely stated he did not have to, he was adamant that he was going to. along with your typical payment for assisting with any and every one of the children's needs.

oh, the perks of nannying for a billionaire.

since it was around midnight, the kids were asleep, leaving you two as the only ones awake. the hot tub was spacious, but it was still cozy, only a few feet between you and the team principal. all around, hanging lights glowed, casting a soft golden light over the water.

additionally, there was a privacy fence surrounding the tub, shielding you from the frosted windows of the cabin. it was the perfect relaxation spot, as you could lounge here in the evenings after putting jack to bed and checking on rosa and benedict.

well, now that toto found you, it had disturbed your little quiet haven.

yet, you didn't mind, leaning over the edge of the tub to place your book down. since you didn't know much about the team principal, this was the perfect opportunity. perhaps you could learn a thing or two.

it went without saying that toto was a mysterious man. due to his hectic schedule, you did not encounter him much. most of the time, they were brief exchanges as he came home from work-related events, or when he came by to pick up the kids from susie.

these exchanges were completely cordial, his tone nothing but polite as you greeted him. however, now that awkwardness politeness was dissolving by the second, the team principal in close proximity.

"i have participated in my fair share of hot springs and such," he shrugs, "but this is sort of a rare occasion. i don't get out much, but i'm sure you know that."

"you seem like a very busy man," laughter bubbles up in your chest, spilling from your lips, "how is the season going? jack told me he was excited to see lewis next weekend."

at the mention of lewis, as in lewis hamilton, toto's lips curve into a broad grin, "the season is going well. there have been some hiccups, but nothing we can't handle. but enough about me, i'm sure the kids tell you all about their father. i want to get to know you."

"me?" you raise a brow, "oh toto, there is nothing interesting about me. i promise."

"nothing interesting about a gorgeous woman like you?" your heart skips a beat as he crosses the space between you, only inches apart now, "surely there's something. what else do you do besides nannying?"

"taking care of your children is the only interesting thing about me i'm afraid."

"do you have a boyfriend?" toto presses, his hands cupping the edge of the tub, pinning you to the cool surface, "surely you have a boyfriend. you're far too pretty to be walking around single."

"oh toto," you murmur, the notes so sweet and angelic, "nannying is my top priority. ensuring that your children are safe, happy, and well taken of is what i devote most of my time towards. i don't have time for boyfriends."

"good girl," he hums, "that's a good answer. you're far too pretty for most of these boys anyway."

good girl.

the way the praise fell so effortlessly from his lips sends a shiver down your spine.

"so what are you saying?" tilting your head back, your gaze finds his, your lips pursing ever so slightly.

"i'm saying you need a man," his mouth hovers above yours, the words dripping with lust, "you need a man to take care of you."

"oh do i?" you tease, "do i need a man like you, mr. wolff?"

fuck.

were you oh so tantalizing in this moment.

toto knew he shouldn't. he knew the stakes involved. he was well aware of the risks that came with this.

yet, you were so fucking tempting in that little number.

and he just couldn't resist.

not for a second longer.

lips crash into yours, steady hands cupping the curves of your ass, lifting you to the edge of the tub. you nearly teeter, but he holds you firmly, the fiery kiss sucking the air out of your lungs. the veins in his muscular forearms are prominent as he keeps you situated on that edge, your thighs spreading, inviting him in.

a whine rises in your throat as his tongue licks along your lower lip, begging for entrance. you let him in, hips bucking as the kisses deepen, your arms wrapping around his neck.

the kisses are passionate, fueled by lust. almost as if the team principal was wolf, ready to pounce.

and you were his prey.

his innocent, angelic, stunning, prey.

the cooler air has your nipples hardened, yet you were hot to the touch, desperate for some sort of relief to the burning desire consuming you whole as his mouth descends, pressing sloppy kisses down your neck, onto your collarbone.

"toto," you groan, head rolling back as fingers wrap around the fabric of your bikini top, his warm mouth enveloping your nipple. his tongue flicks back and forth, earning a series of mewls from you.

"what is it?" he nearly pants, "what do you need?"

"you."

"is that right?" he coos, glancing upward, "you need a man like me to take care of you?"

"yes," you nod, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, "please."

"oh i will," his lips curl into a smug smirk, "i'll take care of you, angel. don't you fret."

his mouth reconnects with the plane of your stomach, the taste salt lingering on his tongue from the water. you squirm as he finds your dripping core, his tongue teasing your swollen clit through the fabric of your bottoms.

"so, so beautiful," he murmurs, his breath fanning against your inner thighs, "like an angel from the heavens above."

his fingers hook the hem of your bottoms, pulling them aside as he comes face-to-face with your weeping cunt. carefully, his tongue treads along your slick folds, a moan ringing out into the night.

your fingers tangle in his dampened locks, tugging at the roots as his eyes drift upward.

the emotion bursting within those depths is indescribable. it was almost as if a man was brought to his knees at the altar, ready to worship and praise the divine. as if a man was catching his first glimpse at a piece of pure art.

yet, the once bright mocha gaze was now dimmed, hardened into a near obsidian hue by the spell that had taken ahold.

"ride my tongue," the words vibrate against you, "i need to feel it. need to taste you."

yet, as you begin to roll those hips, a familiar cry floods your ears.

"papaaaa! hase!"

jack.

"fuck," toto curses, wiping his lower lip, "i guess i should go check out what he needs, hmm? or isn't that your job?"

"he called for his papa first," you tease, sticking out your tongue, "i can go help him back to bed though. he probably just had a nightmare."

"hase?" his brows furrow as you swim across the tub, stepping onto the ladder, "why does he call you bunny?"

"it's a long story," you wave a hand, treading up the steps, "i need to go do my job. also, my fingers are getting all pruney. we may want to continue this somewhere else."

"well," toto follows in suit, slapping your ass, "i think we'll continue this in my room. if you don't mind."

"you better hope i don't fall asleep with jack," you scoff, wrapping a towel around your frame.

"oh hase, don't fret. i'll just carry you out of that bed and into mine."

[blondejellykitty]

₊ ♡ ˚⊹ I'll be there on their side ₊ ♡ ˚⊹

୨୧ multi demigod x goddess reader ୨୧ the goddess of heroes and the protector of demigods was thought to be a mere myth and that was how she preferred it to be, until the time came when she could no longer stay away. a/n: (1.8k words) my first fic posted !! the title is from 'i bet on losing dogs' by mitski. the ending isn't exactly how i wanted but that's okay :)

Mortal children are told myths just the same as demigods. Usually mortal parents will tell them said stories to help themselves parent them like Jack Frost, to remember to put your jacket on or Santa Claus who won't show unless you behave well.

Parents of demigods however tell them for the child's benefit. Many legends aren't told but are taught at camp, once again to protect the demigods. Very few stories are able to be told without alerting any unwanted attention.

The entirety of the fall of Kronos from Zeus' beginning to his victory and the story of his earliest children. All revolving around Zeus in his prime, probably to keep himself ego inflated and unfaded.

Nevertheless this is another story that circulates the young ears of all demigods. The legend of the protector of demigods. Much is lost to time of the story but not even time himself can rip the hope that the lost goddess can give to the young heroes.

Very few things shocked the Olympians anymore, not in this century anyway. Of course Kronos and Gaea rising was one thing and Percy Jackson himself was another but the whispers from their children that after two titan wars sightings of their lost protector was becoming more frequent seemed to truly shock them.

After a few millennia of no contact from the goddess more than a few gods had assumed she simply faded quietly but now it seemed that wasn't the case at all.

It started as a mistaken identity.

With the son of Poseidon, Percy Jackson had thought she was nothing more than a helpful nymph.

Although the poison from the pit scorpion that Luke Castellan gave him was more than enough of a reason for Percy to not fully take in the figure in front of him.

He could faintly make out the outline of her dress but even that went blurry as quickly as he could blink. After struggling to get to the river in the middle of the deserted forest, he called for help, anyone's help.

So she answered.

In a daze of pain he recalls the feeling of being carried much like his mother used to do when he’d trip and hurt himself. He would have felt embarrassed but with a fading pulse he just mumbled best he could thanks to the tender nymph before his vision was lost to darkness.

After he’d recovered, Chiron told him if he'd been found any later he'd have been dead.

Thirty seconds, he thought.

After he had told everyone, everyone meaning Annabeth about Luke, he went back out to said woods to find the nymph who had helped him.

All he found was a few river spirits nearby who told him that no nymph went that close to the border that day. He’d made the river spirits promise to let him know if the mysterious nymph came back, she never did.

But nonetheless Percy remembered, and held thanks to the helpful nymph.

Mistaken identity shifted to a hallucination.

The son of Hermes, Travis Stoll had sworn himself to secrecy under the impression he'd have imagined the whole encounter.

An embarrassing thought he often let himself drift back to on more than one occasion. It had started when he and Connor had been setting up traps in the woods for the next capture the flag game.

They'd been out there all afternoon, they decided to turn back for curfew, best to not tempt the harpies when he'd tripped on a lodged rock in the ground and managed to roll down and crash into a further down tree.

A thick root from the tree he'd fallen against impaled his side making his shirt and the dirt around him to turn a dark red colour. The sight of the root appearing out his side Connor ran towards camp faster than he'd ever seen him run during their pranks yelling for healers and for Chiron.

When he'd think back on it he wasn't sure if it was the quiet of the forest or the numbness of his body but dark spots began to invade his vision and he couldn't help but embrace them without caution.

Until the most beautiful woman came out from behind a nearby tree, rushing towards him in a fuzzy blur. Her elegant hair falling past her face almost making a blanket of warmth and safety around the two of them.

She was the most stunning thing he'd ever seen. Better than the full moon, the sunrise and sunset. Better than the ocean or a flower. He could hear her softly speaking to him but he couldn't make out the words.

He didn't know how long he'd been staring in awe at the woman. Travis was sure he'd be red with embarrassment if all his 'red' wasn't currently bleeding out of him.

He looked over towards where he heard his brother's frantic voice getting closer to him. The sight of him and a few cabin 7 campers not far behind him did well to ease his own worry. He looked back for the woman but she was gone.

He doubted if he'd seen the woman but shook it off as nothing more than pain induced illusion.

Then from a hallucination to a mortal.

The son of Hades, Nico di Angelo should've known better than to assume that anyone who approached him was 100% mortal.

After spending more time in the demigod world he realized that mortals don't ever come over to talk to demigods, or maybe that was just his problem.

Nevertheless even mortals can see some kind of underworld aura around him even if they don't understand what they're seeing.

Which makes it all the more irritating that his younger self didn't realize the woman who helped him was probably not entirely mortal. He could still remember it so clearly, she was after all one of the few at that time that had been kind to him.

He had spent the night searching for an entrance to the underworld, his father had told him in a dream a few nights prior that it was in the area. He also mentioned that it was supposed to be easier to find for children of his.

Well that turned out to be crap.

Nico had spent all day and now late into the night walking around New york city trying to find a specific street corner. He was tired and hungry but most of all angry.

He called off his search once his eyes started to sting. Finding a bus stop bench to rest at. He pulled his knees to rest his head against. Tears stung his eyes more than his fatigue when a smell of food wafted near him.

Lifting his head he saw a woman, dressed in a cozy cardigan, the beige kind a mother would wear. She was carrying a bag, he could faintly make out the logo of the logo of a restaurant he remembered passing on the contains inside.

She never spoke but her eyes almost made him cry, a look of care and worry. one he'd imagined his own mother having from the stories Bianca would tell him.

She leaned over and rested the beg softly on the bench next to him, he could feel the heat from it warming her leg. He asked her who she was and why she'd given him her food but all she did was smile and ruffle his hair like Bianca used to do.

He could feel his tears roll down his neck as he watched her keep walking down the street until she eventually walked out of vision. He was just glad someone was kind to him.

Even if it was just a friendly mortal.

Then from a mortal to a mother.

The son of Hermes, Chris Rodriguez couldn't believe he could see his mother in the middle of the haunted Labyrinth.

It had been Luke who ordered him to go into the traumatizing maze and he'd done it willingly, so eager to help his older brother for the cause of getting revenge, justice, to be noticed.

But as most things in Chris's life it had gone horribly wrong. He couldn't even remember most of the horror he'd seen in there, the human brain forcing him to forget just so that he can move on from it all.

But one of the few things that stuck with him was the memory of his mother. Now, he knew it was completely impossible his mother, who'd died just helping him to get to camp, was in the labyrinth with him but his vivid recollection of those moments left little doubt.

He remembers leaning against one of the ever shifting walls, ready to give up on getting out for good.

When he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, he recalls not even flinching from it because of the calming ease it put him in, he could feel himself slurring his word and frantically almost magically speaking but it wouldn't reach his ears.

He had a light aura around her, and a gentle smile as she carefully lead the way through the twists and turns of the darken maze.

He relives the memory as best he can, he could still hear the faint whispers from her mouth, promising she wouldn't let him go and that it would be alright soon.

In hindsight that was something his mother would never do, his mother cared for him not was anything but emotional.

Part of him likes to think that Thanatos had lost her soul for a moment and she'd come to help when he most needed her.

He was just glad that someone had helped him because he hated the thought of what had happened to him if they hadn't.

Finally from a mother to a mourner.

The son of Jupiter, Jason Grace was the lost goddess' last straw.

Too many had already lost their lives in wars fought in seemingly vain. No matter how she felt for them nor how she longed to help them, rules were rules as the King of Olympus loved to remind everyone.

But when the fate meddled day approached and her sweet kind hero had perished, some rules were to be broken in order to do some good.

The day Jason Grace died was a day every demigod remembers, they felt the sadness draped over both camps and everyone in them.

Even demigods who had never even met the fallen hero were mourning him with such intensity.

The lost goddess knew it was because of her her grief was spilling into their own lives, her sadness swallowing them up with it.

Part of her wanted to stop, knowing it was affecting the little heroes but another darker part wanted it to spur them into action, she wanted it to make them want change.

But look how that had turned out the first time. As much as she wanted to change she settled for a medium, she’d change and she'd do what she was meant to.

Help the young heroes live and thrive, no matter the cost to any other immortal in her way...

[diorsluv]

feather , part 13

“ i finally cut you off ”

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tagged: mackie.samo, dylanduke25, jackhughes, _quinnhughes, lhughes_06, edwards.73, markestapa

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username81 i can’t believe mackie let her give him a makeover

→ yourusername i can’t believe it either

jackhughes i don’t see what you see in spencer reid but ok

→ yourusername you’re clinically insane. go get some help.

→ _quinnhughes i don’t see it either

→ lhughes_06 me neither

→ yourusername i’m calling your mom and telling her that you’ve all gone crazy.

markestapa that snow was FREEZING but attacking you with that pillow really made it all worth it

→ yourusername this is harassment and i feel targeted ☹️☹️

→ markestapa really? good 😊

username53 THE SHOPPING CARTS IN A PARKING GARAGE?? the math ain’t mathing

mackie.samo honestly that makeover felt kinda replenishing

→ yourusername funny that ur using that word when u threw my REPLENISHING face mask in the trash after 5 minutes

jamie.drysdale how did she manage to convince you all to make those mini heart shaped pizzas

→ lhughes_06 uhh see the thing is..

→ edwards.73 about that 😥

→ markestapa wellllll

→ _quinnhughes they’re idiots

→ jackhughes yeah um that’s the thing!

→ mackie.samo so…………

→ dylanduke25 she uh… she didn’t

→ rutgermcgroarty oh my god you all turned soft for her

→ yourusername oh shut up they were always like that they just stopped pretending 🙄

lhughes_06 you kept complaining when jack and quinn piled on top of you

→ yourusername BC THEY KEPT MOVING and 350 lbs of weight on your back isn’t ideal

→ edwards.73 just like how you kept complaining when benedict came into the picture? lhughes_06

→ lhughes_06 what no idk what ur talking abt shut up

→ yourusername ?????

username75 did ethan just expose luke 😭😭

→ username64 it’s not like we didn’t know anyway

bookerburke_ aw we should make mini pizzas when you get back ☺️☺️

→ yourusername ofc mwah 🥰

yourusername

liked by dylanduke25, _alexturcotte, luca.fantilli, and 79,992 others

yourusername gingerbread house contest went.. um.. let’s just say there was an obvious but not crowned (😒) winning team! and then we baked desserts bc these competitive dummies couldn’t stand to lose against me n dyl 🤗🤗

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mackie.samo u literally didnt win

→ yourusername u literally didnt finish ur house

dylanduke25 our team clearly won

→ yourusername ofc ofc

markestapa my team did a better job

→ yourusername ethan kept licking the frosting and mackie spilled the candy all over the counter…

→ edwards.73 and we still did a better job 🥱

username56 the gingerbread houses are so chaotic lmaooooo

username98 THE SANTA COOKIES AWWWW

username49 i can smell the diabetes coming from this post

jackhughes i like to think our house didn’t turn out that bad

→ lhughes_06 fr we did good

→ yourusername only because quinn was yelling at you the whole time

→ _quinnhughes i wasn’t yelling i was just loudly guiding them

colecaufield save some cookies for me

→ yourusername by the time you get them they’ll have gone bad 😭😭

username48 they’re all so competitive it’s so funny

rutgermcgroarty “how many heart shaped desserts can you make in one week” challenge go!

→ yourusername shut up there’s nothing wrong with liking heart shaped desserts ☹️

→ rutgermcgroarty it’s become an unhealthy addiction

_alexturcotte i personally believe the last gingerbread house is the best one

→ mackie.samo EXACTLYYY

→ edwards.73 OBVIOUSLY

→ markestapa YES THANK YOU

→ yourusername you all need help

username71 HOW ARE YOUR SNOWMEN DESIGNS SO NEAT

next chapter notes ) i’m not kidding when i tell you it took me forever to make this BUT I HOPE EVERYONE STILL LIKES IT

tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot

[awfuckitssunshine]

i was not immune to the parkour civilization

0/10 would go for chicken and still fail

did i binge this series about an hour ago? yes.

did i instantly fall in love with everything? also yes

did i redesign the legends because they deserved it? yes

headcanons below lmao

Ice Legend!!

Helpful boy 10/10, wanted standard dnd adventurer mixed with jack frost, has no mouth (hidden always by wool lining)

Headcanons:

Ice is ALWAYS cold but its okay, because he prefers the cold

His hair is frozen like that(like he got out of the shower and stepped outside in the middle of winter)

He chews on ice cubes

His diamond boots have snowshoe bottoms, allowing him to never sink in snow

Glass Legend!

this is probably my favorite design because the skull is so <3<3<3

he's a little pathetic meow meow but he still won; a two hour victory is still a victory

Glass has the least changes from his original body because he is the youngest legend

He's a descendant of a mob people recognize but don't know from where

His knee pads are bullet proof glass

His diamond boots are very fancy boots with glass grippers on the toes and heels

Crystal Legend

he is a sassy king and hates everybody and judges you always

Crystal was originally Glass's best friend and encouraged him to become a champion... realizing how easy it would be for him to become champion because he knew he was better than Glass

Will not apologize for anything

Definitely is a crystal girlie secretly

His diamond boots protect his knees from bashing against crystals

Neo Legend!

i had to babygirlify him, he's been yassified, he has a flat affect and he's monotone

Uses cobbled deepslate for aesthetic and nothing else

Neo was originally unaware of other levels until he became champion

When he spawned in, his legs wouldn't work and, deciding to be kind, the champion before Neo made him legs and trained him

While his diamond boots do allow a bit more forgiving jumps and landing, Neo became good at neo parkour with intense practice and training

he hates when anyone says he didn't earn his title

[gilly-moon]

I can't think of anything amazing right now, but I did start thinking about those sentence prompts that some people do where you have a sentence and then you make a story with it if you know what kind of thing I'm talking about. Anyway, this is my prompt: "Please don't do this to me" Blackice. Can be angst or fluff. Or a bit of both.

oooohh this is actually a great writing exercises!! i feel like i got a bit rambly in this one but it's good for me to practice doing smaller scenes like this. mostly angst in this one but i tried to put some softness in the middle

｡･ﾟ･☆･ﾟ･｡

“Please don’t do this to me.”

Pitch stared down at the shivering, whimpering frost sprite at his feet. Light and laughter had fled from the boy’s eyes, their color dulled to that of a stormy sky. Tendrils of shadow were creeping up, up, and around his snow white throat, staining him grey.

“Please,” Jack begged, blackened hands clutching at Pitch’s robe.

The King of Nightmares did not reply to the last-ditch pleas of the Guardian. He simply stood, and he watched. And he felt nothing. Not when the shadows swallowed up Jack’s voice, or when they spilled across his eyes and blinded him.

He watched until the boy was still and silent at his feet, and he waited.

Jack’s eyes shot open, glowing pure white.

.

Pain is what finally dragged Pitch back into his body.

His hands throbbed, the sensation concentrated in a line that cut across the bottom of his palm. As his eyes peeled open, he saw his own dark blood drying beneath his fingernails.

The image of Jack, swallowed by darkness, made him wince. It wasn’t the first time the Shadows had threatened Jack indirectly, and it wouldn’t be the last. This particular threat was more unsettling than any others, though.

Remembering the utter lack of emotion he’d felt in the dream as Jack was possessed had Pitch’s hands trembling. Some part of him knew it was just the influence of the nightmare, but he still wondered. What would he do if that scenario came true? Would he try and stop the Shadows from turning Jack to the darkness permanently? Or would he watch as he had in the dream, knowing it was the only way to assure Jack would only ever belong to him?

Pitch drew in a sharp breath, forcing his fingers to uncurl from where they’d been pressing into the wounds on his palm. Fresh blood welled up from a few of the cuts.

The bed shifted behind him. A pale, freezing arm dropped over his side, curling just enough to pull a small body flush with his back.

Jack mumbled something unintelligible against Pitch’s spine, clearly still fast asleep. His arm tensed, pulling them even closer for a moment before he relaxed fully with a final huffed-out breath. Frost spread over Pitch’s shoulderblade each time the boy exhaled.

Watching the near-glowing white arm go limp around his midsection, Pitch had his answer. Curling his hands into tight balls, he kept the oozing blood contained where it wouldn’t spoil the perfect, snowy creature that had decided to share his bed.

He’d be having a chat with the Nightmare bold enough to invade his sleep. Later.

Now, he focused on the brush of soft hair against his back, the press of a cold nose. He studied each freckle and scar on the arm draped over him, committing them to memory. And he made a new vow with each one he found. A vow to protect Jack’s laugh. To leave his light unsullied. To never let him go.

Pitch squeezed his eyes shut, thinking of the locket hidden in the drawer of his nightstand.

He vowed to do better than last time.

[anonymousewrites]

Pearl of the Sea Chapter Nineteen

Found Family! PoTC Cast x Teen! Reader

Platonic! Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Jack Sparrow, Tia Dalma x Reader

Chapter Nineteen: Journeying to the Locker

Summary: (Y/N) finally finds their way to Davy Jones's Locker and Jack.

            “Our new friend in Singapore was very specific,” said Mercer. He stood in Beckett’s cabin on his ship, the HMS Endeavor. After the fight on Singapore, he had returned to report on the intel they’d recovered. “Nine pieces of eight.”

            “What’s the significance of that, I wonder,” remarked Beckett.

            “Nothing can hold against the armada,” said Mercer. “Not with the Flying Dutchman at the lead.”

            “Did your friend figure mention where the Brethren Court are meeting?” said Beckett.

            “He was mum on that, sir,” said Mercer distastefully.

            Beckett hummed thoughtfully. “Then he knows the value of information. Better keep this between ourselves. We don’t want anyone running off to Singapore, do we?”

            Mercer and Beckett looked at former Governor Swann. He was stuck at his desk, always under a watchful eye, only a face to provide comfort to those that weren’t sure about Beckett. He was useful to have around.

            “And (Y/N) Swann?” said Beckett.

            “They escaped,” said Mercer.

            Beckett tsked. “How troublesome.” The door to the cabin opened, and Beckett glanced up. “Ah, Admiral.”

            “You summoned me, Lord Beckett,” said Norrington.

            “Yes. Something for you there,” said Beckett. He looked at a box, and Norrington faced it in confusion. “Your new station deserves an old friend.”

            Norrington opened the box. He found the sword crafted by Will staring up at him. He lifted it reverently.

            “The Brethren know they face extinction,” said Beckett. “All that remains is for them to decide where they make their final stand.”

l

            The freezing cold air swirled around (Y/N) and the other pirates. Frost had long since settled over the ship as they sailed as north as they could go.

            “No one said anything about cold,” groaned Pintel.

            “I’m sure there must be a good reason for our suffering,” stammered Ragetti through the chill.

            “Why didn’t that witch woman bring Jack back the same way she brought back Barbossa?” grumbled Pintel.

            “Because Barbossa was only dead,” said Tia Dalma.

            Pintel and Ragetti jumped as she appeared.

            “Jack Sparrow is taken, body and soul, to a place not of death but of punishment,” said Tia Dalma, gaze dark. “The worst fate a person can bring upon himself…stretching on forever. That’s what awaits at Davy Jones’s Locker.”

            She strolled by.

            Ragetti swallowed. “Yeah. I knew there was a good reason.”

            (Y/N) sat and watched Will figure out the strange, rotational charts. Slowly but surely, they were finding their way to Jack. He lifted the charts and handed them to Barbossa. (Y/N) stood and looked at them over his shoulder.

            The disks of the charts had been moved to spell out several words. “Over the edge over again. Sunrise sets. Flash of green.”

            “Do you care to interpret, Captain Barbossa?” said Will.

            “Ever gazed upon the green flash, laddie?” said Barbossa, grinning at (Y/N).

            “No. I’ve read about them. Are they real?” said (Y/N).

            “Aye,” said Barbossa. “Mr. Gibbs, seen them?”

            “I’ve seen my fair share. The last glimpse of sunset, a green flash shoots up into the sky,” said Gibbs. “Some go their whole lives without ever seeing it. Some claim to have seen it who ain’t. And some say…”

            “It signals when a soul comes back to this world from the dead,” said Pintel eagerly. Gibbs glared. “Sorry.”

            “Trust me, young Master Turner,” said Barbossa. “It’s not getting to the land of the dead that’s the problem.” He turned the ship violently. “It’s getting back.”

            They sailed into a large cavern. (Y/N) closed their eyes as they felt an energy sweep in with the water. It just felt…different. A shiver ran down their spine, and they nearly reached into the freezing water.

            Tia Dalma watched their expression change, and she glanced down at their arms. The wind rippled over their shirt, and there was a slight shine on their arms. It was gone as soon as it came, but Tia Dalma narrowed her eyes. She had seen it. Of course she had. Every part of the sea was clear to her.

l

            Beckett and Mercer stood on the Endeavour’s deck and looked at the destruction the Flying Dutchman had wrought on another ship.

            “Bloody hell. There’s nothing left,” said Beckett, frustration lacing his words.

            “Jones is a loose cannon, sir,” said Mercer.

            “Fetch the chest,” said Beckett.

            “And the governor? He’s been asking questions about the heart,” reported Mercer.

            “Does he know?” questioned Beckett. Mercer looked at him with narrowed eyes, and Beckett raised a brow. “Then perhaps his usefulness has run its course.” He turned to Mercer. “You may be inclined to bring him with you for a little visit to Jones.”

            “Yes, my Lord,” said Mercer.

            A few minutes later, platoon of sailors rowed towards the Dutchman. The burning remains of a pirate ship floated around them, and corpses bobbed in the water. There were no sounds in the air save the organ playing on board the Dutchman, and that sound held no joy or life. It was as dark and empty-hearted as the player.

            However, despite his men’s fear at boarding the ship of monsters, Mercer was as efficient as ever. He ordered them aboard with muskets and gazed out at the servants of Jones without a care in the world. The monsters looked around at the guns trained on them, and the soldiers swallowed at the strange, sea-creature faces looking back at them.

            “Steady, men,” said Norrington, also keeping a strong face.

            Jones barged to the front of the crowd and glared as the chest with his heart was carried towards him.

            “Go. All of you,” he snapped. “And take that infernal thing with you. I will not have it on my ship!”

            “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that…because I will.” Beckett stepped forward with his usual condescending tone. “Because it seems to be the only way to ensure that this ship do as expected by the company.” He flicked his cane, and Norrington brought the guards with the chest into the hull. “We need prisoners to interrogate,” continued Beckett while Jones bristled. “Which tends to work best when they’re alive.”

            “The Dutchman sails as its captain commands,” snapped Jones.

            “And its captain is to sail as commanded,” said Beckett. He stepped forward. “I would have thought you’d learned that when I ordered you to kill your pet.” He took immense pleasure in the way Jones’s shoulders fell at the reminder of the kraken’s fate. “This is no longer your world, Jones. The immaterial has become…immaterial.” He turned away before pausing. He cast a careless glance behind him. “And should you come across any of the former crew of the Black Pearl…” He narrowed his eyes. “I want all but the child killed. Bring them to me, if you’d please.” It wasn’t a request, and they all knew it.

l

            (Y/N) stared in amazement at the sea of stars they sailed on. They were reflected in the water, but the surface was so mirror-like that they seemed to be flying through the night sky. Millions of stars shone around them, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile. It was a magical sight that they would treasure for the rest of their life.

            Then a wind swept by and blew the slight mist away from the water. (Y/N) frowned and peered out into the darkness. Other forms floated across the sky in small boats, but they were too far away to be properly made out.

            “Barbossa, ahead!” Will shouted.

            “Aye, we’re good and lost now,” said Barbossa, pleased with himself as he steered.

            “Lost?” That got everyone’s attention.

            “For certain you have to be lost to find a place that can’t be found!” said Barbossa. “Elseways, everyone would know where it was.”

            Everyone stared.

            “Well, that makes as much sense as anything else we do,” said (Y/N), accepting the situation.

            “We’re gaining speed!” warned Gibbs.

            “Aye,” said Barbossa with another grin.

            “To stations!” said Will. “Rudder full. Hard aport! Gather way!”

            “Nay! Belay that,” said Barbossa. “Let her run straight and true!”

            “Blimey,” gasped Ragetti, and everyone turned to see what he was staring at.

            A waterfall was approaching. They were about to drop over the side of a void into a further nothingness (which somehow had made sense).

            “You’ve doomed us all!” said Elizabeth.

            “Don’t be so unkind,” said Barbossa. “You may not survive to pass this way again, and these be the last friendly words you’ll hear.”

            “So we’re touring our afterlife, how wonderful,” said (Y/N), holding on to the side of the ship as the group ran around in a panic. “At least it’s pretty!”

            They plunged over the edge.

l

            Jack paced around the stranded Pearl. It sat on a pure white, flat land that extended out forever was far as he could see. He hated it there, in the Locker. He was losing his mind with only himself to talk to, no wind, no sea.

            No (Y/N).

            After returning to help them, he hadn’t forgotten them. He missed them. They had become like family, and the moment he realized that was the moment he was ripped away from them.

            Jack kicked a rock in frustration. If he got back to them, he swore that there would be no more lying, no more double-crossing, no more betrayals—aimed at them. (Y/N) was his kid, his Pearl.

            He froze as a skittering sound echoed in the silence around him. He turned and looked down to find the exact same rock lying next to him. Jack frowned.

            “Now we’re being followed by rocks,” he said. “Never had that before.”

            He turned away and tried to make himself useful by grabbing a rope and dragging the Black Pearl with him. Obviously, that didn’t work.

            Another skitter. He hesitatingly turned to find a crab, not a rock, staring at him. A field of rocks stood behind it. One by one, they shook and popped open to reveal crabs. They marched forward and picked up the Pearl.

            Jack watched in shock as the ship sailed with the crabs. It was among the most surreal sights he had ever seen. He stood frozen for a good long moment before straightening. He wanted wind? He got crabs.

            Jack would take what he could get. He ran like a madman after the ship.

l

            (Y/N) pulled themself out of the sea and into the sun. They had fallen for who knew how long, splashed into water, and were somehow alive on a beach (they didn’t question where they’d fallen from, the sky they guessed, it was the Locker). (Y/N) stretched as everyone else straggled out of the water. The ship had been destroyed, and very little supplies had washed up with them. The other pirates were exhausted and struggling, but (Y/N) just watched.

            “This truly is a godforsaken place,” said Gibbs. He spoke the first words as he surveyed the empty desert that was the Locker. The air was still, and the sun beat down. No life was present.

            “I don’t see Jack,” said (Y/N), bouncing on the balls of their feet.

            “I don’t see anyone,” said Elizabeth.

            “He’s here,” said Barbossa confidently. “Davy Jones never once gave up what he took.”

            “And does it matter?” snapped Will. “We’re trapped here by your doing. No different than Jack.”

            “Witty Jack is closer than you think,” said Tia Dalma. She held a rock-like crab in her hand and petted its carapace. She looked at the dunes, and (Y/N) followed her gaze. Their eyes widened.

            The Black Pearl was cresting a wave of sand with crabs at its base. In the crow’s nest, Jack perched and looked out at them. Everyone just stared as the Pearl slid down the dune, over the beach, and neatly into the water.

            “Boat,” said Ragetti, dumb with shock.

            “Slap me thrice and hand me to me mama,” said Gibbs. “It’s—”

            “Jack!”

            (Y/N) ran over the beach towards the Pearl. Jack had already descended from the boat and was wading back towards the group. He looked at them warily as they ran towards them. If this was another trick of the Locker, a new form of torture of his mind to drive him mad by the nonexistence presence of his friends and family, Jack couldn’t handle.

            “Jack!” (Y/N) nearly tackled him in a hug.

            It was real. Jack grinned and hugged him back. “I’m glad to see you,” he said quietly. “Pearl.”

            (Y/N)’s head jerked up at the word, a question in their eyes, but the others ran up behind them before they could respond.

            “It’s the captain!” said Gibbs. “A sight for sore eyes.”

            (Y/N) and Jack stepped back from one another.

            “Mr. Gibbs,” said Jack.

            “Jack Sparrow.” Barbossa stepped forward.

            Jack turned to him. “Oh, Hector. It’s been too long. Hasn’t it?”

            “Aye. Isla de Muerta, remember? You shot me,” said Barbossa.

            “No, I didn’t,” said Jack brightly. It was a bald-faced lie, but what did he care?

            “Tia Dalma, out and about, eh?” said Jack to her. “You add an agreeable sense of the macabre to any delirium.”

            Tia Dalma smiled unpleasantly.

            “He thinks we’re a hallucination,” said Will.

            “Nope! I know the laddie is real,” said Jack, grinning. “No one else has their sense of…” He waved a hand. “Sea-ness?”

            “Thank you?” said (Y/N).

            “Now, William, tell me: have you come because you need my help to save a certain distressing damsel, or rather, damsel in distress?” said Jack. “Either one.”

            “No,” said Will curtly.

            “Well, then, you wouldn’t be here, would you?” said Jack. “So you can’t be here. QED, you’re not really here.”

            “Jack, we’re real,” said (Y/N). “Not just me.”

            Jack narrowed his eyes. “You might be losing your mind, too. You seem like the type.”

            “Trust me,” said (Y/N).

            Jack stared at them. It felt like the truth. They had faith in him; he’d have faith in them.

            “Jack.” Elizabeth urged him to listen to them.

            Jack looked at her and stepped back. He preferred not to see her, especially in the flesh after what had happened.

            “We’ve come to rescue you,” said Elizabeth.

            “Have you, now? That’s very kind of you,” said Jack. “But it would seem that as I possess a ship and you don’t, you’re the ones in need of rescuing, and I’m not sure as I’m in the mood.” He spun and faced (Y/N). “You’re welcome to come, laddie.”

            “I would prefer for everyone to come,” said (Y/N), shrugging.

            “I see my ship. Right there.” Barbossa gestured to the Black Pearl.

            “Can’t spot it,” said Jack. “Must be a tiny little thing hiding somewhere behind the Pearl.”

            “Jack, Cutler Beckett has the heart of Davy Jones,” said Will. “He controls the Flying Dutchman.”

            “He’s taking over the seas,” said Elizabeth.

            “The song has been sung. The Brethren Court is called,” said Tia Dalma.

            “Leave you alone for a minute, look what happens. Everything’s gone to pot,” said Jack.

            “Aye, the world needs you back something fierce,” said Gibbs.

            “And you need a crew,” said Will.

            Jack faced them all. “Why should I sail with any of you other than (Y/N)? Four of you have tried to kill me in the past. One of you succeeded.” He pointed at Elizabeth.

            “What?” (Y/N) whirled on her.

            “Oh. She’s not told you,” said Jack. Elizabeth shifted guiltily and avoided (Y/N)’s devastated expression. “You’ll have loads to talk about while you’re here.” He looked at the crew. “Now, (Y/N)’s in.” He looked at Tia Dalma. “As for you…”

            “Now don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it at the time,” she said, smirking.

            “Fair enough. Alright, you’re in,” said Jack. “Don’t need you.” Ragetti. “You scare me.” Barbossa. “Gibbs, you can come. Marty.” He cast a distasteful look at Pintel. “Cotton.” He nodded approvingly, and the parrot squawked (it has survived miraculously). “Cotton’s parrot, I’m a little iffy, but at least I’ll have someone to talk to.” He faced the Singaporean pirates and frowned. “Who are you?”

            “Tai Huang. These are my men,” said Tai.

            “Where do your allegiances lie?” said Jack.

            “With the highest bidder,” said Tai.

            “I have a ship,” said Jack cheerfully.

            “That makes you the highest bidder,” said Tai practically.

            “Good man. Weigh anchor, all hands!” said Jack. “Prepare to make sail.”

            “Jack,” said (Y/N), looking pointedly away from Elizabeth. “You have to take everyone.”

            Jack groaned.

            “They have the charts to get out of here,” pointed out (Y/N). “And I won’t leave them behind.” They crossed their arms, and their stormy eyes pierced Jack’s.

            Jack sighed. His soft spot for his kid was going to grow frustrating.

Taglist:

@slytherinroyalty16

@aew-kun-age-regression

@grippleback-galaxy

@andsoigotabutterfly

@insomniacneedssleep

@painstakingly-juno

@kitkatlover015

@chronicallybubbly

@froggyisfriend

@elliottheidiot2007

@paastaboi

@urlocalsabito

@speckle-meow-meow

@dmitrytherat

@vanessa-boo

@ohimjustagirlidrathetnotbe

@snowy-violet

@ceridwyn3

@heil-nah

@idonthaveanameforthisacc

@roo024

[itsybitsybatsyspider]

The Dragon Prince Au Masterpost

So since i got so many ideas and thoughts for this au, imma just make a masterpost for this since i plan on expanding and adding more to it in the future. Thought it’d make context a bit easier to understand. There's quite a bit so buckle in fellas

Berk is an outpost village that lies along the border of Katolis and Xadia. The people and battalion there are known for their duty to ward off dragons and drakes when they get too close to the border, and they are based right on the edge of the border where both lands meet at the Gulf of Tenebris. 

The events from the first movie still kind of play out. Hiccup shoots down Toothless and hides it from everyone, but after learning about dragons and seeing that they’re misunderstood and that Berk has been provoking them, he then creates a disguise to help the dragons.

Of course, now everyone thinks that there’s a Sunfire elf out there fighting against them and why do they think he’s a Sunfire elf?? Because he creates Inferno in an attempt to mimic a Sunforge blade and paints his helmet to look like elf markings and builds in horns.

Jack is a Skywing elf, and a mage-in-training. He’s doing his best and lives with his mother and sister, Emily. Their village is to the north of the Ruins of Elarion and resides in the mountains.

He's out flying one day when he hears a dragon's roar and when he flies down to investigate he sees a human trying to catch a dragon. Filled with anger he jumps down and pulls up a spell, aiming it at the human, who stares back with his eyes wide and hands raised.

Hiccup was only trying to wrangle Toothless to try and put on a new and improved tailfin when out of nowhere a Skywing elf leaps out and points lightning at him???

So they get off on the wrong foot. But after seeing that Hiccup wasn't harming Toothless and Toothless was friendly towards Hiccup, did Jack lower his staff. He truly thought the human was going to try to kill the dragon to take it apart to send to the dark mages of the Katolin court. He'd heard stories of human "mages'' and their brand of "magic". But no. All that was in front of him was a startled human who had only been wanting to help a creature of Xadia.

and from there, their friendship begins.

Jack tells Hiccup about Xadia and Hiccup tells Jack about his home. They sneak off to hang out and take Toothless out flying. Jack uses Sky magic to make them go faster and higher and blows snow flurries their way to mess with Hiccup.

Hiccup brings pastries and food for Jack to try from home and gets him to try brown morning potion. It ends with Hiccup laughing on the ground and a cup frozen to the ground as Jack sputters in distaste at the bitterness

Jack manages to find a real Sunforge blade and gifts it to Hiccup. "Now you can pass off as a real Sunfire elf. Or at least close enough."

Toothiana is a Skywing elf. One of Jack’s friends and a family friend to the Frost-Overlands. She’s helped teach Jack some Sky magic but it’s not much. She tries to help him by hunting down books, tomes, and scrolls in her free time when she’s not busy

Bunny is an Earthblood elf who doesn’t stay in one place too long. But he does have a place on the outskirts of their village and sometimes lingers for a few weeks at a time before going back to his travels. His real home is in the Uncharted Forest.

Sandy is a Sunfire elf who passes through occasionally and is Tooth's source for magic books for Jack. Sandy lives near Lux Aurea but his work keeps him traveling around. He's a Sun mage and is currently hunting for the source of whatever magic has been corrupting creatures in Xadia and turning them into monsters made of nothing but shade and decay.

North is a human dwelling in Berk. He and Gobber run the smithy and create the defenses for the outpost and take turns running the shop. But North is actually a friend to Xadia (*cough* Bunny *cough cough* Tooth *cough* Sandy). It was the time before he came to Berk and he keeps these opinions to himself until he discovers what Hiccup has been doing in his spare time.

Astrid is the top-cadet in the training program at the outpost. Best in her class and has the highest chance of joining the Outpost Guard right off the bat. She and Hiccup are friends and she has trouble understanding his sudden reluctance to want to fight dragons and keep enemy forces at bay. This is their home. Doesn’t he want to protect it? Surely he must understand what’s at stake if creatures from Xadia were to invade. 

the rest of the teenagers are in the training program a well. Snotlout has aspirations to join the Katolin army at the Breach, Fishlegs just wants to study the flora and fauna of Xadia without it trying to kill him, and the twins... well they're the twins. They want to learn primal magic for pranks and get chased by a drake and cause havoc in general.

Jamie Bennett and his family live in Berk and Jamie has a secret that he's never told anyone. His best friend's an elf.

Jamie and Emily become friends before the events of the story start. And have been friends for months at this point. They've been lying to everyone to keep their friendship. So when Jack starts acting suspicious at home, claiming to go see some friends (he doesn’t have friends aside from her and Tooth) she starts paying attention to what he’s trying to hide. She fills Jamie in on it as well during one of their hangouts and he’s like “Oh weird, you know I've been noticing the Commander’s son has been disappearing as well.”

At one point Jack manages to get his hands on an illusion necklace, and gives it to Hiccup so that he can be fully disguised as an Earthblood elf. He wants to show him the beauty of his home and Xadia without the worry that he’ll get captured or killed and they spend a whole day going through Jack’s village and showing him everything. Emily follows along and keeps a sharp eye on Hiccup. 

She brings it up in their following recap. "So my brother had a friend over the other day... it was an Earthblood elf i had never seen before... he acted really weird." "Huh that's weird... Hiccup was gone the other day... no one could find him..." ".... Hiccup?"

and Pitch is a dark mage :)

At some point i may add more, but for now this is the base context for the Au. it was hard not to get carried away with adding even more but i think that about sums it up for now! Below is the art that's been posted already. I'll edit it as i post more but for now that's it!

Jack, Hiccup, and Toothless designs

Sunfire Elf Hiccup disguise

Jack's Wing Maintenance

First Meeting (and misunderstandings)

Questions Ask

Ask #2

Jack and His Sister

Astrid, Jamie, and Tooth Designs

Earthblood Elf Hiccup Illusion

Some Plot

[starleska]

Are you gonna give us that Jack Frost/Reader we know you wanna write?? 😆

oh god yes yes YES PLEASE I WOULD LOVE TO 😳💖 there is an absolutely tragic lack of x Reader fanworks for this man, which is devastating given how much he craves attention...i think he needs a little love to warm him right up 😉

Jack Frost x Reader headcanons 💙❄️

❄️ when You first meet Jack, he flatters You like you're the only person in the world who matters. he presses earnest kisses to the backs of your palms and showers You with compliments. you're taken in by his glittering smile, and the ease with which Jack makes You feel ever so special. but with time, You notice Jack's long game. there's a shallow affect behind those attentive eyes which clues You in; he's not only always watching You for any glimmer of approval, but watching everyone else too, all of the time. every phrase is perfectly engineered to give him the response he wants, and what he wants is attention. so, You decide to turn the tables on him. You make it your life's goal to make Jack Frost melt. ❄️ when You confront Jack on his scheming behaviour, his persona cracks like ice. his smile drops instantly and he takes on a mocking, scathing tone. "You think you've figured it all out?" he scoffs. "Please. Your gullibility would give the April Fool a field day. Why don't you scootle along now, before you get yourself hurt?" but You see it: the hurt flickering behind those frost-blue eyes. You step closer to him, and don't miss the way he flinches. "Aren't you tired of all this, Jack?" You ask quietly. "Always calculating. Always trying to get on top. You're trying so hard to make people like you...you can't see it when they actually do." Jack's hands are ice-cold when You slip your fingers through his own. he blusters in protest, tripping over his words as he tries to formulate a witty retort...but a light dusting of pink blooms along his cheekbones.

❄️ sincere affection is a foreign notion to Jack, and he skitters around it like a deer on a frozen lake. years of hypervigilance and rejection have him distrustful of your motivations, even when You speak your mind. "Surely this is some elaborate trick," Jack tells You once afternoon, when the pair of you are bundled up together under one ultra-long, snowflake-patterned scarf. "I'm still waiting for the big reveal, and I'm sure it'll be a showstopper." yet you're used to the pitfalls of Jack's paranoid mind, and You ask him, "What if the big reveal is that I think you look really cute when you're flustered?" without waiting for an answer, You capture his lips in a kiss. Jack is immediately reactive and whines softly into you, but You slide your arms over his shoulders and lock your fingers behind his back: reassuring him. keeping him safe. telling him it's okay to be vulnerable here. ❄️ nothing could have prepared you for what Jack's real love looks like. remarkably, Jack is restrained when he's being insincere: the actual depths of adoration he has for You are astonishing. he's physically clingy: always having a hand rest on your shoulder, or brushing his thigh against yours under the table. when you're alone he loves to envelop You, whether that's by drawing You in for an impromptu hug or falling asleep cuddling You like you're a teddy bear. his kisses (frequent and soft) leave small trails of ice crystals along your bare skin, and he always grins when You shiver. "Oh dear, are you cold, darling?" Jack asks with a wink. "It would appear my efforts to warm you up have been in vain. However...there's no harm if I keep trying, is there~?" ❄️ although he's freezing cold in the extremities, Jack isn't frozen all the way through. a gentle warmth exudes from Jack's chest, and You often spend your evenings intertwined with your head resting there, listening to the curious flutter of his trapped, searing heart. You murmur gentle words of affirmation into his neck, and delight in how he keens beneath You. when You look up at him, You adore the way his eyes sparkle. Jack is beautiful in the way only a snowflake can be: wholly unique, with hidden complexities even a lifetime wouldn't allow You to observe. Jack is wonderful. and Jack is yours.

[a-sin-to-be-rin]

Murdoc + Bazooka

Mac wakes up with a runny nose, a dry mouth, and someone’s boot in his side.

“Oh. So you are alive. I thought I’d killed you for sure.”

Despite everything, this is possibly the worst case scenario. The middle of nowhere. Injured. Alone- well, actually, he’s not alone. God, Mac wishes he was. After all, it’s much easier to survive when Murdoc isn’t pointing a gun in your face.

---

“Damn. You’d think it'd be easier to find a pharmacy around here. Where are we? Do they have pharmacies?”

Mac lifts his head from the cool glass of the car window. “We're in Vermont,” he mutters, kneading his forehead with his knuckles. “Of course they have pharmacies.”

“Yeah, tell that to Google Maps,” Jack gripes, tossing his phone Mac’s way.

“You don't have reception. Google Maps thinks we've fallen off the face of the Earth.”

Jack groans. “We’ve been driving through the woods for ages. This is like, the perfect place for a serial killer to hide out.”

“We’re still pretty far out from the nearest city,” Mac says regretfully. “Just keep going.”

“Only you would get a cold after the mission is done. Why can't you be a normal person and get it before the mission? Then you can't go on the mission, which means I can't go on the mission. I would kill for a break, Mac.”

But Mac doesn't have the energy to argue. He waves Jack off, slumping against the window again.

“You better be grateful.” True to form, Jack continues the argument alone. “Nobody else on this team would drive your sick ass through serial killer woods to get you cough drops. I want you to remember this when you're picking out my birthday present-”

BAM!

There's fire. The Jeep rolls. Glass shatters everywhere, metal bending and screeching.

And then, there's nothing at all.

---

The world is hazy when Mac opens his eyes. Frost coats the frozen earth and tinges the underbrush. Cold, dry air fills his lungs and a wheeze escapes them.

“Oh. So you are alive.”

“What-?”

Dirt, too dry to be mud, but only barely, presses into the side of his face and brushes his ear. He tries to lift his head, but the effort it takes only makes his face plant that much harder when his head drops again.

“It’s okay,” the voice says. “It’s just me.”

Mac can’t place the voice. It’s familiar. Chillingly familiar. It makes Mac’s stomach clench. But he can’t recall why.

“I’ll be honest,” the voice continues. “At first, I really thought I killed you. I mean, you weren’t moving, and head wounds just bleed so damn much. You know how it is.” Footsteps circle around Mac, light and even.

Even surface distribution, Mac notes. Large surface area. Men’s size 10, maybe 11. Wide foot. And the dissonance from the toe means it’s a stiff shoe. Either new or rarely used.

And then a pair of black dress shoes, far too shiny for a dirt trail in the middle of the woods, steps into view. Mac rolls onto his back, shoulders and leg and head aching from the movement, and finds himself staring down the barrel of a hunting rifle.

“Stay right there, MacGyver,” the voice coos, and Mac doesn’t need to look past the gun to know who’s holding it.

“Murdoc.”

“Oh, good. I didn’t shake your brain up too bad then. That bazooka can be a real doozy on the noggin.”

Bazooka?

“What did you-? Why are you-?”

“Ah, ah.” Murdoc tuts reproachfully. He squats down, slinging the rifle onto his pack and aiming a pistol at Mac’s forehead. “I know your mind is inquisitive to its own detriment, but you’ll need to have a bit of patience today.”

Mac groans, wincing against a killer headache. He can’t be sure if it’s from the car crash or his cold. Or maybe it’s both.

“You're a tough man to track down, MacGyver,” Murdoc says, standing again and planting his boot on Mac’s chest, gun still at the ready. “Fortunately for me, I have this nifty little program. Lets me know any time the Phoenix assigns a case to one Angus MacGyver. And since you were in the remote edges of Vermont and I was in the remote edges of Vermont, I figured I’d stop by. Say hello.”

For a moment, Mac drowns out Murdoc, trying to assess his situation.

In the middle of the woods. Trees. Maple, birch, spruce, pine. Northeast US, maybe still Vermont, though all bets are off with Murdoc.

On his back. Hands bound. Rope and duct tape. Feet are free.

Injuries. Head wound, concussion probable. Arms are okay. Pain and swelling in his left leg. Suspected femur fracture. Right leg is normal. And something about the abdomen. Something’s wrong…

Wait. Where’s-

Mac coughs, trying and failing to push Murdoc’s foot off. “Where's Jack?”

“Hm… Jack? I don't know if we've met.”

“You-” Mac coughs again, this time succeeding to push Murdoc away. He sits up slowly, head pounding. “You blew him up.”

“Ugh, Mac, you know you need to be more specific. I’ve blown up so many people that they've started to blend together.”

“He was in the car with me,” Mac growls. “Where is he?”

“I imagine he's still in the car.” Murdoc studies his nails, gun still trained on Mac.

Mac swallows hard. Jack must have survived. There's no alternative.

“Oh, don’t look so sad, MacGyver! Come on! I’ve got some fun things planned today, so why don’t you-” He jerks his head to the side. “Up, on your feet! There’s a good soldier.”

But Mac doesn’t stay on his feet for long, falling with his first step.

“I will admit,” Murdoc sighs, squatting down beside Mac again. “I wasn’t sure the bazooka was the best idea. Too many variables. But I also couldn’t not take the risk. I mean, I’ve been trying to kill you for years. When would I get a better opportunity?”

Mac groans. Pushes himself up on his hands.

“It does increase the risk of leg injuries, which makes moving you around a real pain in the ass. But there are ways.”

Well, if Mac’s heart wasn’t racing before, it definitely is now.

“This will be easier if you don’t fight me. Trust me; this is a mercy.”

And then the pistol cracks against Mac’s head, and everything goes dark.

---

“Så flådde han kråka og lema ho sund, hei fara og lema ho sund- oh.”

Mac frowns against a stabbing headache and a leg burning in agony. He’s not as cold as before, and the ground is drier. Wood.

“Forgive me,” Murdoc says airily. “I was workshopping lullabies. Still new to this parenting thing.” He sighs. “My mother used to sing me to sleep with that one: kråkevisa. It’s about a man who thinks a crow is out to kill him, so he kills the crow first. Then he makes shoes out of its skin and hangs the crow’s neck in the church. I suppose it’s her own fault that I tried to emulate the man. And there were no crows near my home, so I made do. Mother did make a lovely pair of shoes.”

This is far too much information. Mac can’t even process it. All he can do is look around, searching for threats.

“Where are we?” he murmurs.

“This is where I come to get away from it all,” Murdoc explains. “Cozy place, isn’t it?”

Mac sits up slowly, hands (still tied together, regretfully) immediately going to the dark red drenching his shirt. “Wh-?” He lifts the hem, finding a metal shard sticking out of his side. The wound was clotted, but sitting up tears it open again, bright red flowing over deep maroon.

Murdoc hums. “Car accident, I suspect. Not important, really. Just don't pull it out.” He shrugs. “Really, MacGyver, we have bigger fish to fry here.”

“Like what?” Mac grits out, holding pressure against the wound.

“You really have no sense of drama. But that’s okay. I like that about you.” He paces to a table. Mac can’t see what he’s doing. “So I’ll throw you a bone, just this once.

“You, my friend, have been an insufferable presence in my life since the day I was hired to kill you. I planned everything perfectly. I was stronger than you, more prepared than you, faster than you.” He picks up a tray and returns to Mac’s side, kneeling to look at Mac properly. “But you still managed to-” He sets the tray down with a sharp clatter. “-slip through my fingers.” His voice remains even, rhythm never faltering. “You were the one who got away. And ever since, I’ve been chasing you like a dog, trying to rectify that.”

Murdoc hums. Puts on a pair of white rubber gloves. “I think enough is enough, don’t you?”

Mac can’t stand up. Not with his leg swollen and (most likely) broken to hell. There’s no getting out of here. He sees two options:

He stalls long enough for someone to find him. But this requires someone to realize he’s missing. Even if Jack survived (and he must have survived, because Mac can’t live in a world without him), he’s probably just as lost as Mac is. Their best bet is that Riley or Bozer notice they’re missing. That will take a minimum of three hours, maybe four.

Or,

2. He incapacitates Murdoc and uses the items at his disposal to contact help.

It’s not a difficult choice.

“Remember, back in LA? When we had that little chat over nightshade and handcuffs?” He smiles, and it’s scarier than when he’s angry. “That was a good day.” And then his voice hardens to steel. “But you cut it short. I never got to pry Cassian’s location out of you.” He sighs. “I don't need his location anymore - obviously - but wouldn't it be a treat to have you give it up anyway? A nice dose of humiliation before I kill you.”

Mac glares up. He's not sure how effective it is when he's on the ground and bleeding. “So what? If I don't talk, I get to live?”

“Of course not,” Murdoc scoffs, screwing a needle to a syringe and stabbing a vial with it. “Living was never on the table. You either talk and die or get tortured for nothing and die. Your call.”

Mac shifts backwards. He can't help it. With Murdoc leering over him, needle glinting and malice-driven eyes gleaming, Mac’s every cell is screaming at him to get away. But in his state, moving just jars his leg, pain choking the breath from his lungs.

Murdoc is less than enthused. “You should leave the torturing to the expert.” And then he stabs Mac in the arm with the needle and depresses the plunger.

At first, Mac feels nothing at all. Just that absent but nagging concern about the mystery drug in his body. And then, things start to sink. The pain doesn’t go away - if anything, it’s worse - but his awareness is fluttery. Sounds are muffled at first and then ring for eons in his ears. The world is filtered with a blurry blue haze. Murdoc’s face comes in and out of focus.

“The belladonna clearly wasn’t enough last time. So I made my own… adjustments. But I’m sure you figured that out by now.”

Yeah. Mac definitely does not remember the sewers being like this.

“So I’ll ask nicely. Once. Where were you hiding my son?”

Mac coughs. Maybe it’s his cold. Maybe he’s about to vomit. He can’t decide. “I didn’t… I never knew… I didn’t even know he-”

Murdoc’s ring cuts Mac’s face as he backhands him. “Liar! You knew, and you kept it from me! You took a son away from his father, all under the guise of ‘protecting’ him.”

“No one… ever told me,” Mac swears.

And Murdoc nods once, expression stony. “You made me do this.”

Shiny. Cool steel. Brand new. Long and sharp and strong. Clamping. Pulling. Pressure. And then-

Mac can’t help it. He screams.

“Oh, come now, MacGyver,” Murdoc chides. “What’s one fingernail between friends? A ring fingernail, no less. Hardly important. Though the index nail is looking awfully tempting.”

“I…” His voice shakes so badly, he can barely speak. “I told you all I… all I know.”

“I doubt that.”

And then the middle and index nails are gone.

“Okay, so fingernails aren’t your kryptonite,” Murdoc says, barely sparing the writhing figure on the floor a second glance. “That’s fine. We can move on.” He hums, scanning his tray of tools, and then sighs. “I’m not feeling it. Nothing’s speaking to me. I’m going to have to get creative.”

Mac thinks, for only a moment, that perhaps this will be his reprieve. Maybe he’ll have a few seconds to breathe. But then there’s a sharp, twisting, cutting agony, ripping his insides to shreds.

“Funny thing about the human body: it will do anything to stop the bleeding. Even if there’s a foreign object in the wound, the body will still try its damnedest to heal around the sucker. So before you know it, that thing is basically melded into the skin. And even the slightest movement-” and here he twists the metal shrapnel viciously “-will tear the skin open all over again. Hurts so good, huh?”

Mac is leaning more towards “hurts” than “good,” but Murdoc doesn’t really want Mac’s opinion. He just wants to hear himself talk.

“So what do you say? Want to tell me now? I already have him, so it’s not like you’re hurting anyone. Barring yourself, of course.”

Mac doesn’t have the air to defend himself. But Murdoc interprets this as defiance. And in his own act of defiance, he rips the shrapnel from Mac’s side.

“Ooo, that must’ve hurt.”

But Mac can’t hear him over his own screams.

Murdoc drops the metal, returning to his tray. “How’s that leg feeling?”

Oh god. Not his leg. The leg that’s still throbbing, even under the agony of his side. Mac has a plan - thinks he has a plan - but if he wants it to work, he needs to act now.

Murdoc grabs a hammer and turns it in his hands. Then he shakes his head and grabs a meat mallet instead.

Mac has his hands on the shrapnel now, cutting away at the ropes. Murdoc doesn’t notice, though it’s only a matter of time before he does.

“So, tongue feeling looser yet?” Murdoc hasn’t looked up yet. He hasn’t looked up yet. He hasn’t-

“What are you doing?” Murdoc hisses, reaching out to snatch the metal away. But Mac is in pain and drugged and still has his stupid head cold, and his survival instincts are far past active. With a sudden burst of adrenaline-powered strength, Mac rips the last of the ropes and tape away and swipes out with the shrapnel. He catches Murdoc in the hand, but this only seems to make him angry.

Murdoc holds his injured hand to his chest and pulls out his pistol.

Mac doesn’t waste another moment, kicking out with his good leg and hitting Murdoc’s head. As he jerks to the side, Murdoc hits his head against the corner of the table and falls still. Later, Mac will look back with horror at how ridiculously lucky he was, but in the moment, Mac is just desperate to escape.

As gently as he can manage, Mac drags himself across the floor, grabbing Murdoc’s gun and pocketing the cartridge. Best to keep Murdoc away from loaded weapons.

Then, Mac grabs the rope hanging from the table (excess from the rope used to tie him up, no doubt), and secures Murdoc’s wrists and ankles. It’s not foolproof, but it’s a temporary fix until Mac can find something stronger.

After a moment to brace himself, Mac slowly, painfully slides himself around the room, trying to get a lay of the land. There are a multitude of torture weapons on the tray, of course, though few look like promising supplies. (Mac does grab the meat tenderizer though. Just in case Murdoc gets loose.) There’s an alarm clock on the table, which Mac manages to knock to the floor. There’s probably more up there, but Mac can’t see much past the table’s edge. Mac himself has a few paperclips and a stick of chewing gum. (Something about that feels cliche, though he has no idea why.)

The best find, however, is a drawer in the kitchenette. The moment Mac opens it, despite it being above his line of view, he instantly knows what it is: a junk drawer. Lord bless the person who invented junk drawers. They’ve saved Mac’s life on more than one occasion.

Feeling around, Mac procures a few tubes of used lip balm, more bullets, a pair of scissors, and a small coil of wire.

And Mac has all the makings of a quick and dirty spark-gap transmitter.

With shaky hands (and three fewer fingernails than usual), Mac removes the battery from the alarm clock. Then he connects it with the wire, leaving the rest of the coil to act as an electromagnet. Then he adds a paperclip across from a nail in the floorboards, forming a spark gap. Now Mac just needs a second battery.

Mac searches the junk drawer and the lower cabinets, coming across a forgotten smoke detector. It’s perfect. Just one problem though:

Mac can’t get the smoke detector open. He tugs and pries at the battery door, injured fingers curled into his palm. He uses the wires and the tenderizer and everything he can find, but nothing will open it. He hangs his head before trying to pry it open with his fingers again. He’s so close. He can’t lose now. One more battery  - just one thing to complete the circuit - and he’ll have his transmitter. He’ll be able to signal for help. He’ll get out of here alive.

There’s a crash. Mac jumps, sending shockwaves of pain up his leg and through his abdomen. There’s clattering around the room. Cursing and rustling. Yelling and breaking glass and gun safeties. And then, footsteps approach Mac. Someone is trying to talk to him.

“Get… get away…” he pants, refusing to look up. “Back off.”

“Whoa, hey,” the voice says, and it’s that awful Texan drawl that makes Mac’s spirit soar. “It’s just me, hoss. I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

“Jack,” Mac breathes, allowing Jack to help him sit up. “I thought you were…”

“Yeah. Well. I’m not.” He jerks his head to the side. “No thanks to Jerkwad von Bazookaface over there.”

Murdoc is still bleary-eyed, surrounded by at least four SWAT officers.

“How did you…?” Mac looks at the nail on the floor, then back at Jack. “I didn’t finish the radio.”

“I don’t need a radio to find you.” It’s almost sweet, in a weirdly them type of way. “You left blood all over the place. Followed it like breadcrumbs to the witch’s candy house.”

Mac blinks. “You and I remember that fairytale very differently.”

“No, you just lack imagination.”

Mac sighs, sagging against Jack’s steady hand. “I am too high for this.”

Jack pats him reassuringly. “Definitely, buddy. Now, let’s get you outta here. There’s a bag of cough drops with your name on it on the plane.”

Mac doesn’t reply right away. He’s overwhelmed by a strange sense of… safety. “Hey, uh, Jack?”

“Hey, uh, what?”

“Thanks.”

Jack just smiles. “S’what brothers are for.”

[not-poignant]

Birthday Spotlight - Gulvi Dubna Vajat

[24th March - Aries]

Gulvi Dubna Vajat, the chaos-loving, determined, vicious killer and loving sister is the Unseelie swan maiden from the canon Fae Tales series. She's the lover of Fenwrel the Mouse Maiden, younger sister of Julvia Dubna Vajat, and bucks all the standards when she chose to become the first swan maiden to turn her back against the pacifistic ways of her kind so she could train with the Council of Lammergeiers and become a highly reputable and successful assassin who ended up working for the Raven Prince, in line to be the next Queen of the Unseelie Court.

Despite Gulvi's sometimes abrasive ways, she's always been well-liked among many readers. She's a staunch supporter of Gwyn's, a best friend to Ash, and for a time, Augus' declared enemy. She spent a few chapters just stabbing him to get revenge, because, well, he did kill almost her entire family.

Gulvi is a fantastic advice-giver, lives her own life, and is well-equipped to be Queen-in-waiting and Unseelie Queen. One day she'll take the throne for herself, and Gwyn is more than aware of it and more than happy for it to happen. Even if she did get him drunk all those separate times...

‘Make no mistake, you are lucky that I am friends with both Gwyn and Ash, for nothing would please me better than to come at you through your loved ones. Think about that, for a minute. I like that this hurts you. And if I didn’t think I’d be hurting this Court, and myself in the process, I would let Gwyn be executed by the Seelie Court in an instant just to watch you make more of these delicious, frightened expressions of yours. I can smell your fear, you horrid, mess of a fae, and I revel in it. You have not Ash’s sympathy, nor his support in this. And you do not have mine.'

~ Game Theory

From the Darkness We Rise - (fanfiction) Gulvi first appeared as an OC in this fanfiction in her swan maiden form, as an informant to Gwyn ap Nudd, even then an effective assassin who used French affectations in her speech and rubbed Jack Frost the wrong way every time she opened her mouth.

The Court of Five Thrones - Gulvi came through for Gwyn ap Nudd when Augus died (temporarily), offering him sage advice and getting him drunk. She's sent to assassinate many of Gwyn's enemies in order to manipulate people into giving Gwyn what he wants as King, she falls in love with Fenwrel, and pulls the heavy duty of serving as Queen-in-Waiting, all while nursing her fragile, near-death's-door older sister, who is stuck in swan form due to Augus' actions when he was once a villain.

Into Shadows We Fall - (fanfiction) Notable for appearing as Ash's best friend and Gwyn's ally, but she makes Jack too furious and he attempts to murder her, and in return, she stabs him with one of the best verbal repartees. It is her actions which serve as the turning point for Jack and Pitch, as she inadvertently severs a very important scarf in the process...

Game Theory - Drugging Ash, giving Gwyn advice even though they're on opposite sides, and stabbing Augus repeatedly while calling him a donkey are just all in a day's work for this graceful, ruthless, and surprisingly mature swan maiden.

Unwound - An interstitial between The Court of Five Thrones and The Ice Plague, this series explores Gwyn's occasional melancholy due to well...all the burdens he carries. Once more, Gulvi proves herself to be a staunch and true friend.

The Ice Plague I: The Forest of Fire - When Gwyn and Augus leave the Unseelie Court, Gulvi steps into her role as Queen-in-Waiting, but not before trying to forbid her sister Julvia from going on a grand quest (she fails, much to her anger).

The Ice Plague III: The Ice Plague - Gulvi has been working in the background throughout as Queen-in-Waiting with Fenwrel by her side, but we finally get to see her again, which comes as a profound relief for our ensemble team.

All That We Were, All That We Will Ever Be - In the final epilogue of Augus and Gwyn, in the Fae Tales canon, Gulvi is there watching vigil over a certain someone, even as she works a truly overwhelming job.

The Spoils of the Spoiled - High school student, girlfriend of Kayla (Gulvi is so incredibly lesbian), bitchy frenemy of Augus Each Uisge, best friend of Ash, and eventual friend of Gwyn ap Nudd. Gulvi is the one who suggests the detached apartment at the back of her house to Augus and Ash, giving them a place to live when they become homeless. She comforts Augus after he's molested by Efnisien, and she offers charming, funny, and sometimes caustic commentary throughout.

The Day the Ferris Wheel Came Down - High school student and best friend of Ash, Gulvi is up to her chaos-loving antics in this short oneshot!

The Best of Broken Resolutions - In one of my favourite AUs, Gulvi is a high-powered architect working with Gwyn ap Nudd who bitches out their work colleagues, judges all their outfits, and is immaculately fashionable. She's in a workplace relationship with Fenwrel, which isn't nearly the well-kept secret it should be.

Tumblr Prompts - Fae Tales - Anyone who asks me about whether I'll ever write any F/F should go here for a little kissing between Fenwrel and Gulvi in Basorexia.

With chaos as her heartsong in the Fae Tales canon, Gulvi embraces the chance to introduce a little unpredictability into the lives around her.

Despite this, Gulvi still has her swan-maiden roots, she is a loving, family-oriented, loyal friend and lover who just wants to have a good time in life.

A swan maiden who was raised a pacifist and then proved that her turning away from peace-loving ways wasn't 'just a phase' when she became one of the most notorious Unseelie assassins in the fae realm.

Any excuse to drink - which makes her a good friend for Ash

Protective of those around her. Once you are taken under her wing, she will fight tooth and nail for you, and sometimes against you, if you're your own worst enemy.

White wings, white hair, black eyes, and uses two kris daggers. She almost always is seen solely in hybrid form, never human or true form.

Helping Gwyn to get through the hard times with hard liquor and sisterly advice

Any time she insulted Augus, while Augus was powerless to retaliate

Saying 'La!' as a form of punctuation

Swearing

Despite her sometimes casual-seeming, party-loving nature, she possessed a courtier's tongue, holding her own against Albion at the end of Game Theory, and bringing both Augus and Gwyn to their senses multiple times.

Always loves an element of chaos in her life, though it's more muted when she's in human AUs, especially once she's in love.

Lesbian for life

Graceful and beautiful, and does not suffer fools

Gulvi is all about family whether she wants to be or not - chosen family and blood family

Will always find Julvia incredibly annoying and condescending while loving her fiercely

Tends to think of Augus as a bit of an idiot, all the way from 'too stupid to live' in Game Theory to 'I still love you though' in The Spoils of the Spoiled

I've always really loved swan maidens, after meeting them in The Bitterbynde Trilogy by Cecilia Dart-Thornton. I came up with a whole scaffolding of background for these beings, and still feel very fondly towards swan maidens so I'm not entirely surprised that when Gulvi was no longer a significant character in The Ice Plague because she was holding up the fort, Julvia became a significant character instead.

People always used to ask me if I shipped her and Ash, but Gulvi's love for Ash was never quite 'that' kind of love, even though she gave her heart to him. I always loved the idea of two best friends so bound together that the friendship would last an eternity.

Gulvi has tattoos of symbols on her arms from the Council of Lammergeiers as part of her initiation but I always forget she has them, so this is one of her biggest continuity errors in that I just don't mention them enough so we ALL forget.

I always like to imagine that Gulvi and the Raven Prince are actually extremely close, and we never see it because it's private - a friendship between two bird shifters.

Gulvi is from the fae side of Latvia - she's not French! She just picked up an affectation from the human realm because she liked it.

The reasons I gave my heart to him weren’t as clear as they should have been. They couldn’t be. They never are! Swans think they have such pure hearts, but… Ash is worthy, make no mistake, but I never wanted to be with him. Even as I gave him my heart, without his consent I might add, because he would have refused it – I knew I didn’t want to be with him. I didn’t want him to fuck me, I didn’t want to lie on a bed with him beyond collapsing together on a bed with marshmallows and fried foods while watching silly human movies about very profound things. He has always been a gentleman about it, even as I took something from the both of us the moment I staked him with the permanency of my love. But, Gwyn, I’ve never wanted to be with anyone. Ash gives me all of himself in our friendship. His love is a whole thing. He has such an abundance of it. It spills everywhere. It makes him do and say stupid things. It makes him wiser than he should be. He loves love. Whether it makes him a fool or seer. And me, with my cynical heart, I needed his idealism, his romanticism, all of it. He gives me something I have never been able to give myself. And he has enough of it – so much – that he can give it freely and I never have to worry about depleting him of anything. You see? Everyone thinks it’s unrequited. But that implies that it is one-sided, and it is not. They say unrequited love is not returned in kind, but he returns it. And they act as though I accidentally tripped over his feet, looked up, and fell in love with the stupid idiot he can be. But I did not. I made a conscious declaration to myself, to the world.

~ The Court of Five Thrones

[trulybetty]

dec' x 04 - scarf

Prompt: scarf Pairing: jack daniels x reader Word Count: 643 Warnings: I think jack comes with his own warnings doesn't he? nothing going on here except a very loose use of today's prompt! these are characters from a wip that hasn't even seen the light of day, let alone been finished - talk about working backwards 😆 Summary: let's get this out there, I know nothing about Kentucky except that my favourite Backstreet Boy when I was younger is from there - but I Googled until I couldn't Google anymore to confirm it does snow there! So, on with the story, it's a trip into town, which requires the use of the ranch's old truck. AO3: Linked

x. masterlist

The morning sun cast a low, pale light over the ranch, reflecting off the snow-dusted fields as you stepped outside, the crisp coolness of a Kentucky winter morning nipping at your cheeks. Jack was waiting for you, leaning against the barn door with a lazy grin on his face, his breath misting in the chilly air, his gaze fixed on the old Chevy truck parked nearby, its edges lined with a fine layer of frost.

“I suppose they don't have trucks like this in the city,” he drawled, the teasing lilt in his voice muffled somewhat by his thick scarf.

You arched an eyebrow at him, wrapping your coat tighter around you. “You know, the city has trucks too, right? They're not exclusive to the country—even in the winter.”

His chuckle was a warm rumble in the cold, mixing with the muted chirping of winter-hardy birds. He sauntered over to the truck, his boots leaving prints in the light dusting of snow on the gravel drive. “But they're all sleek and heated,” he pointed out, resting a gloved hand on the hood of the truck, the blue paint chipped and dulled, a contrast with the white of the snow.

“And?” You tilted your head, the frosty air turning your breath into clouds.

His eyes twinkled with amusement, “This here is a manual sugar—with no heated seats.”

You feigned a gasp as you clutched at your chest, “I do declare,” you said with a dramatic impression of a southern accent, “whatever will I do?” you followed him to the truck, a wide smile spreading across your face.

He gave you a long, considering look, then shook his head with a sheepish grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “You sure you can drive it, Mouse?”

You blinked at him, then burst into laughter, “Mouse?” you managed to gasp out between chuckles, your breath forming puffs of mist.

He shrugged, “You're our city mouse, aren't you?”

You took a deep breath, your chest heaving in the heavy coat, trying to quell your laugh. “I’d take that ridiculous nickname you gave me over Mouse. Also, you know, my actual name works just as well?”

“I know.” His voice was quiet, the words hanging in the air between you, the mention of the city a reminder that your time at the ranch was temporary with the lawyers meeting at the end of the month.

A moment of silence settled between you as you both took in the truck, the ranch, and the snow-capped day stretching out before you.

Jack moved to the passenger door, opening it with a gesture for you to get inside that sent a small cascade of snowflakes to the ground. 

You shook your head, smiling despite the chill, “Are you getting in?” you asked.

Jack's eyebrows shot up, his surprise visible even with his hat pulled down low. “You don't want me to drive?”

You smirked, the keys jingling like ice in your hand. “Get in the truck, Jack.” The challenge was clear in your tone, even as your breath fogged the air.

As you both climbed in, the old leather seats creaking and stiff from the cold, you felt a surge of anticipation. Your brother, twelve years older than you, had insisted on you learning how to drive stick, and you couldn’t have been more thankful for it despite all your protests so many years ago. You slid the key into the ignition and with a satisfying roar, the truck came to life, the engine's heat slowly battling the frost on the windshield. Jack glanced over at you with a mix of surprise and respect as you shifted the truck into gear with ease.

With a final smirk in his direction, you pulled out of the driveway, the truck's tires crunching over the snow, ready to tackle the winter roads into town.

[agerebatman]

Hypothesis

ficlet • Regressor Harvey Dent, Caregiver Victor Fries

So I ended up writing the one with the least votes because it was already halfway done, lol. I prommy I have a Harley and Ivy one in the works though! For now, enjoy my fave rare team up.

It was a bad day in Arkham asylum. Not that any day was particularly good, but this day was one of the worst. February 2nd. 2/2. The day Harvey Dent’s life changed forever. Harvey was not a person you wanted to wake up on the wrong side of the bed. He was grouchy, quick tempered, and loud about it. Today he was in rare form.

“Does anyone in this god-forsaken place know how to make real food?!” He yelled, and the sea of inmates expertly parted as he threw his food across the room. They were unperturbed, as most of them had been here for at least three 2/2s.

“Harvey, please, control yourself,” Penguin sighed from across the table. 

Harvey’s fiery glare found its mark on the bird, who shriveled under it. The Riddler was quick to come to his defense.

“What is shorter than a yard stick but holds grown adults hostage?”

“Not in the mood, Eddie.”

“A toddler. Now, will you stop acting like one?”

A loud crash rang through the cafeteria as Harvey tackled Ed to the ground.

“This is what happens when you antagonize him!” Oswald chided over the tussle.

“I wasn’t antagonizing anyone - guard!”

A hulking guard picked Harvey up by the back of his uniform.

“Dent got in another fight,” he said to his radio, “take him to the cold wing?”

“Affirmative,” crackled through the speaker.

Harvey was dragged out of the cafeteria and through the dusty corridors of Arkham. Harvey knew very well where he was going. The floor he was being dragged across became colder and colder as they traveled. Soon enough, Harvey could see his breath. Clang. He was thrown into a cell, much like his own, but about 50 degrees colder. In it was a heavy blanket - and nothing else.

“You rat bastard! Get me outta here this instant!” Two Face growled as the door was closed.

He kicked and yelled until his voice was horse and his legs were sore. Next door, there was a rustling.

“Harvey…” A rumbling voice called. 

“Rise and shine, Jack Frost, you’ve got company.”

Harvey could hear the deep sigh from the cell next to him. 

“Dent. Another fight?”

“Yeah. The pleasure of your company is the next best thing to solitary confinement.”

A dark chuckle.

“What was it about this time?” Victor asked.

“Pff,” Harvey scoffed, “Eddie accused me of acting like a toddler.”

Victor barked out a laugh.

“What's so funny?” Harvey snapped.

“Well, you do have a certain boyish temperament.”

“You callin’ me a kid?”

“Generously. It would be more accurate to say Edward was right, for once.”

Harvey growled.

“See? Just another one of your temper tantrums.”

“Why I oughta - you don’t know nothin’ about- I- I-”

Harvey sighed.

Victor heard him slump down against the wall, defeated.

“I really am a kid, aren’t I?”

The rough voice had disappeared, replaced by a smoother one, small and confused. Something had switched. Big Bad Harv had retreated.

“... there are worse things to be,” Victor offered.

Harvey hummed in agreement, shrugging.

“I have a proposal for you,”

“A break out?” Two face made a brief return,

“Not tonight,” Victor chuckled.

“Oh…”

“An experiment,” Victor said. Harvey perked up in intrigue.

“Oh?”

“Let’s see if Edward’s hypothesis holds any water.”

Harvey slumped again, scoffing.

“No need to taunt me, Fries. It’s not like I could feel any worse.”

“That is my point,”

“Care to enlighten me?”

“You’ve… had a long, hard day Harvey.”

“You said it.”

“I think, perhaps… you’re tired.”

Harvey said nothing.

“You just need to get some rest, that’s all.”

“...alright, I’ll buy that for a dollar. What do you want me to do?”

“Take that blanket, make sure you’re wrapped up.”

“I’m already there, trust me.”

“Now lay down.”

Victor could hear the shuffling. 

“Now, just… relax. Close your eyes.”

There was a moment of silence, barely a minute.

“This isn’t working for me, Victor.”

“I have another idea.”

“I’ll take whatever you’ve got, doc,” Harvey’s voice was weak.

Victor sighed.

“Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Clara.”

He expected a laugh, honestly. A jeer. A snarl. But nothing came. Just silence - contemplative, listening, silence.

“She had a mysterious uncle, who came baring gifts…”

Victor continued his story, the Nutcracker. As he recounted it, he pictured his wife on the stage. She always made a lovely Sugar Plum Fairy. Harvey, for once, didn’t talk but listened. Victor could hear his steady breath, slowing down until it was calm. He finished his story, and looked at Harvey’s reflection in the glass cell across the way. He lay sleeping, wrapped in the blanket.

“Good boy, Harvey. Sweet dreams.”

[oceanspray5]

I used to LOVE jelsa (jack frost/elsa) during the RotBFTD days and I still love that ship now. I was struck with an amazing locklyle headcanon so pls lemme know what you think of it:

AU where Lockwood is Jack and Lucy is Elsa.

Lockwood's parents died and he and Jess die a few years later cuz of something Lockwood does while playing against Jess's warning. Jessica tries to save him but they both ended up drowning in the lake (or something to that effect). Except Lockwood is revived as the spirit of winter. He doesn't know why he was "saved" and not Jessica when it was his fault she died. He concludes its his punishment for eternity is to go unseen and unheard by anyone. He's so very lonely and depressed but he has no one to turn to (i haven't decided who George is yet).

Meanwhile we have Lucy, youngest princess of a small kingdom ruled by dictators and frought with uprising. She is born with a gift that makes her monstrous to her family and they shut her away thinking it'll only harm their already horrible reputation.

There's two ways this AU can go:

1) Lucy grows up lonely and lost wishing she could have just one person who would understand what thats like. One day, locked in her room, Lockwood happens stumbles upon her window while also solitary and restless and stumbles upon her Perhaps its cuz they both want someone who understands them so badly that Lucy can see him and hear him and he can talk to her, but they finally find the one person in existence that makes their existence feel a little less bleak and a little more whole.

2) Lucy is forced to attend a ball or event of some sort that her family is trying to put on for show to appease the townsfolk and she can't avoid it. And one of her sisters provokes her into revealing her powers so the townspeople turn on her. The rest of the family use it as an opportunity to pretend they've been so busy "containing" Lucy all these years, it's why they've been unable to work on improving the conditions of the Kingdom. Lucy has to flee to save herself in a world she knows nothing about and she's being hunted and feeling worse than ever, feeling as equally cursed with her life as Lockwood does in his death.

They meet cuz Lockwood sees her running and, in the mood to cause some mischief, helps her out. She doesn't know he's there at first... But slowly she realizes something helped her escape and for the first time in his undead life Lockwood is seen by someone and Lucy is viewed as something other than a monster.

And then they realize they've both finally found a friend and maybe something more.

Anyway so... Thoughts? I'm so tempted to write something for this. Not a full AU, maybe just a oneshot? But the idea struck out of nowhere but I'd love to hear what you all think of the headcanon itself.

[gefdreamsofthesea]

Spot the lie: Shin Megami Tensei edition

Note: I'm including everything under the SMT label in English except the Persona games. No I don't care if they're technically part of another subseries in Japan. Also, these apply to the original releases. I know some have been updated but I haven't played them.

I especially want to hear from people who haven't played them because this feels too easy for a veteran.

Poll results are in and I'm very disappointed that only 3.7% of you got it right.

I will now reveal the correct answers:

1. TRUE - The first major boss in Devil Survivor, Beldr, can only be killed by mistletoe, a mistletoe-shaped cellphone strap is just as effective.

2. TRUE - Yggdrasil is sapient and steals time warping powers from the Disir. The protagonist has to go back in time to save themselves with the help of the Norns (who have evolved from the Disir who gave him the quest, you know like Pokemon)

3. TRUE - Dante made a guest appearance in the original release of SMT Nocturne. Later versions replaced him with Raidou Kuzunoha, the protagonist of two games in the Devil Summoner spinoff series

4. TRUE - It's ordinary literature, there's nothing wrong with it the citizens of the Eastern Kingdom of Mikado are just that brainwashed

5. TRUE - The entry is in Strange Journey. "Originally, he looked like an abominable snowman, but perhaps he changed form to more efficiently freeze people."

6. TRUE - The bondage angel design debuted in SMT 2. Here's a screenshot of SMT 1 showing its original design.

7. TRUE - A lot of people voted for this one but it's actually true. Cerberus' single head is a reference to the original novel the series is based on (Digital Devil Story). He is depicted with three heads in SMT: IMAGINE, Soul Hackers, and Digital Devil Saga.

8. TRUE - I did not know the origin of David's name myself so I looked it up. His design is possibly a reference to the poem Danse Macabre by Camille Saint-Saens.

9. FALSE (ish) - It's actually the reverse: Astaroth wishes to become the goddess Ishtar (technically to return to being Ishtar but in game terms Ishtar is treated as his "evolution"). He is usually required in order to fuse her. In some games, the two don't appear to be connected at all.

10. TRUE - As the accuser, Satan is part of the Law alignment (and therefore on YHVH's side) against Lucifer, who (usually) represents the Chaos alignment. His role in SMT IV Apocalypse is more complicated.

Anyways good job everyone. Everyone gets a cookie.

[nytehavyn-circle]

I am in need of these muses to play against/ship with:

Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch A Gwen Cooper (for my Jack Harkness muse). Catwoman (comics/game/movies version, idc) Gwen Stacy Mary Jane Lois Lane Lana Lang Harley Quinn She-Hulk Lady Sif Batwoman Black Canary Emma Frost Kaylee (Kaywinnit Lee Frye) Maleficent (Angelina Jolie's version) Cat Grant Faith Lehane Martha Jones Lena Luthor Adult Hemione Granger

Since Tolaas has a problem with cops and thinks most of them are crooked, I need a cop love interest for Tolaas, someone who can convince him that they're not all bad. (He knows of a couple of cop informants/friends that Terramn has in his network, that's about it.)

Need a Morgana, too. (From Merlin) Warehouse 13 H.G. Wells Need a Supergirl Myka Bering A Narcissa Malfoy, as an enemies-to-lovers or forbidden lovers or whatever-type of thing...

A Dean Winchester to play Tolaas against, because Tolaas doesn't like/trust Dean, and thinks he goes off half-cocked in his Hunting. So this could be enemies or acquaintances to actual friends.

Some of my muses could use friends, too - like Tolaas needs more male friends because all of his friends are played by me and I don’t wanna have friend threads with just me. All of my muses' friends are played by me. Need more that aren't.

For anyone I currently RP with, that are RPing any of the above with me, you're awesome.

I need some love interests for my girls (male or female). Need more OCs to play with!

Give me some gods, demigods, deities to play with!

Definitely need more redheads. >_> lol

This list will be updated as needed. Nothing above is 100% important or set in stone, but it is a bit important because I wanna get some more shipping going, and get more of my creative juices flowing.