#if you read this whole thing i am smooching you

[fyrewalks]

meta: bob + broken glasses

one.

bob is ten the first time someone breaks his glasses. it happens two weeks after his bubbe returns home to new jersey; two weeks since his mom has been out of bed or off the couch longer than a few hours. nearly three months since his dad's latest deployment and six since his older sister, stevie, died.

it happens on the playground, easy to assume it's some childish skirmish over a swing set - bob's shy even then, made worse by his grief, and prefers to stick to the outskirts and swings during outdoor play at day-camp. (summer day-camp instead of montana, instead of his mom accepting the good natured teasing about her being a city girl or the not so quiet arguments between his grandma and dad about who will take the floyd ranch someday.) none of the counselors hear the taunts. bob doesn't repeat them. the kids accuse him of being different; he assumes they're saying it because of his dead sister. (he won't realize the kind of different they mean for a few years.)

he hides his broken glasses in the back of one of his drawers. his mom doesn't notice, his dad's calls home are too infrequent, gracie's six and easy to distract. it's not till a few weeks of meal trains and hushed discussions about his mom and doctor's appointments among the aunties who come over to watch them that anyone notices he's supposed to be wearing them at all.

two.

the second time it happens, bob is a few months shy of fifteen, all awkward limbs and little self-confidence. it's his second cross-country meet and he doesn't want to be there. the floyds are back in virginia - after three different middle schools, there's only a few vaguely familiar faces here and none of them are on the team. it leaves bob feeling more out of place.

he came out as summer ended on a friday night, a rare shabbat dinner that's just gracie and their parents instead of the eclectic mix of friends from their synagogue and whoever on base that wants, or needs, a place to be on a friday night. his mom cries, though she tries not too, while it's his dad whose the first to hug him and reassure bob he's loved no matter what. he knows his parents talk about it later, that they confide in each other their fears about his future, but they brave his confession with watery smiles and the promise everything will be okay.

he doesn't come out at school. it's less a definitive choice and more that he doesn't need to. other kids simply just know. bob isn't sure what gives him away - if it's his slouchy posture, his voice, or something else entirely. most leave it alone, but there are taunts and curses in between classes; he's shoved into a locker, once. bob doesn't like it, but considers it tame. he's bounced between montana, virginia, and florida his entire life, usually living in the shadows of navy bases. he isn't ignorant. (new jersey, at least, only carries the weight of his dead sister.)

it's tame until it's not. until his second cross-country meet. bob's in the middle stretch, pace decent enough to keep up with some of the older kids, and he's actually starting to enjoy himself. and then there's a hand on his back and he's crashing to the ground, literally tasting dirt. bile rises in his throat as he watches his glasses get stomped on deliberately, he can't unhear the accompanying slur.

he makes it to the finish line with a limp, mud on his face, and broken glasses. when his mom fusses over him later, bob blames it on being clumsy. no sense in making her worry; he doesn't like it when she cries.

three.

bob's sixteen with a long summer of open blue sky awaiting him. he skips dinner with his grandma up at the big house in favor of the bunk house with the ranch hands hired for the season. someone hands him a beer with a wink and a sly 'don't tell your grandma'; it doesn't taste great, but after a day of fixing fences, he likes that it's ice cold. he likes that he belongs, he likes that he can imagine his dad at this age too - it's the first time he feels like a man.

most of the ranch hands know him, they've seen him grow up in bits in pieces. they finish dinner and bob's content to listen to the way conversation flows and settles around him until they drag him into it too. does he like school, what's florida like, how are his folks and sister back home. then - you kissing any girls, yet?

bob answers honestly, he hasn't kissed anyone. at first, he doesn't mind the laughter, but it turns bitter in the mouth of one of the new ranch hands. there's something ugly in his eyes.

a chair scrapes back and adrenaline blurs it all together. there's shouting and fists and someone pulling him out of the way. trying to retreat, bob catches an elbow in the face and his glasses end up under someone's boot.

the unmistakable sound of his grandma's shotgun ends the skirmish. his grandma stays behind to deal with the mess while an older ranch hand gets him fixed up in the big house. later, when bob still can't sleep, his grandma sits on the edge of his bed with a sigh. it's too dark to read her expression. she tells him that his dad will take it better coming from him rather than her and that if he wants to drink in her house, he better never get drunk or stupid; he can't throw a punch worth a damn.

four.

he's eighteen, and his mom won't stop crying. there shouldn't be tears, not with bob's new diploma and a mit acceptance letter pinned proudly to the fridge. at least, there shouldn't be so many tears; it is a bittersweet occasion, an unavoidable reminder of the dead sister forever frozen at fourteen.

grief isn't the reason for the tears, though. no, the real reason is the neat stack of paperwork tucked safely in bob's desk committing him to the nrotc and eight years of navy service after. it's a choice he refuses to budge on and it leads to a few tense weeks in the floyd household.

he knows somethings wrong the minute he walks in the kitchen two weeks after graduation, both parents seated at the small table, clearly waiting for him. gracie isn't home; she's got regionals coming up, they should be with her at practice. (bob's long since taken the backseat to her gymnastic aspirations and he's mostly been okay with her hogging their parents attention; he just hates that it's their focus on him that causes alarm bells to go off.)

it starts off simple enough - reminders of his parents sacrifices. his dad doing his best to ensure his children wouldn't be forced to choose between the life sentence of a ranch or the navy. his mom, happy with the life she chose, but still always wondering about the life she might have had if she hadn't dropped out of college to marry and raise children. it's the reason they both pushed so hard for academics and sports and extracurriculars. then, it's the pricey flight lessons touted as more of a financial burden then it really is for the floyds. if he wants to fly, isn't that enough for him?

bob might not get the whole picture, but his maternal grandparents paid for his truck. all cash. between all three grandparents, he knows his parents haven't hurt for much (so long as their pride hasn't stood in the way).

but god dammit, what about his own sacrifices? what about bob, ten and anxious and terrified, begging his mom to get out of bed? what about bob, stuck in the routine of waking up gracie and making sure she has breakfast and lunch even after his mom escapes the fog of depression? or his childhood? one marked by four elementary schools, three middle schools, and two high schools. no one should be surprised that he chose the navy when his dad's service defined his early life.

why is his choice to join the navy and fly any different than gracie's devotion to gymnastics? it's the same risk. gracie could break her neck too.

or, what about plain want? clear blue sky - bob saw so much of it on the ground, he wanted the 30,000 ft views too.

but these thoughts are kinder than the words actually said. bob drags up every awful detail of his mom's depression, how his dad's grief and ill timed deployment felt like neglect. it doesn't matter if his points about chores and helping with gracie were valid after that. the damage is done on his side.

there's more yelling and tears and then the final blow - his dad shouting that bob's gay and it makes him weak, the navy will chew him up and spit it him out. but his dad's temper runs fast and quick, it ends with a too quiet 'fine, if the navy's your choice, you got a day to get out of the house.' they won't burry another child.

bob, the ever dutiful son, listens. on the flight to montana, cramped in a back row, he looks at his glasses held loosely in his fist and thinks it might hurt less if they were broken.

four, five, or six?

three months after his parents kick him out, he goes from montana to boston. he starts at mit and he finds, surprisingly, with some encouragement from new friends that beer and whiskey and cigarettes make him braver than he's ever been.

and the thing is, he's got his dad's same quick temper; it's just he's never had much use for it, always too quiet and too shy to find anywhere to put it. but a crowded bar? a guy being a jerk and not listening? sure, that's as good a place as any.

turns out, his grandma is right - bob still doesn't know how to throw a punch. sometimes, he remembers how he got the bruises, crooked frames, and scratched lenses. sometimes, he doesn't. either way, bob tells himself he's got it under control. except - he misses classes, he can't wait tables hung over, and no one is exactly impressed with him at the nrotc.

in the end, it's a combination of things that get bob to quit drinking his second year of college. (although, he still occasionally sneaks cigarettes when stressed.) gracie crying, a few letters from his parents. more than a few genuine apologies. a concerned commanding officer, citing his dad's respectful career record and how bob won't measure up like this. a patient rabbi and a better group friends than his first roommate, the one who dragged bob out partying his first night in boston. trading bars and beers for the library, more classes to average out his abysmal gpa.

it changes somethings, a relationship with his parents that sometimes feels like walking on ice, deciding to focus on weapon systems than outright piloting, but not everything. bob recommits to his faith, goes back to pretending things don't bother him, and decides life's a lot easier when people think he's just some nerdy stick in the mud than someone who can't handle his liquor.

[targaryenluvs]

— A WHOLE NEW WORLD

pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

summary: in which you and percy navigate a whole other world, and encounter trials in the way.

warnings: angst, bullying mentions, teasing, physical violence courtesy of clarisse my bae, drowning, confessions, fluff, hugs, smooches, percy n you are a comedic duo i swear, basically a self insert, not proof read

wordcount: 5.7k

a/n: i’m insane, this is the longest thing ive ever written. so please reblog and interact <3

you’d grown up with the same stories percy had. the greek gods and goddesses, their lives and tales, their failures and secrets. what you didn’t expect was to be the child of one.

you, percy and grover were currently on a field trip, and you couldn’t have been happier. all around you was history, and you were fascinated by it all. breaking away from them, you viewed the tallest of statues and the intricate, taking your phone out secretly and snapping a photo to show your mother later.

you were dragged out of your fairytale by laughter, and percy’s scowl evident on his face as you made your way over. “i don’t know if you have a miserable home life or just enjoy being a bitch but this trip would be much more enjoyable without your annoying voice.” you sneered before shining a fake smile her way. percy’s laugh in your ear made you join in, but the reprimand afterwards dulled your mood.

you weren’t a big fan of bullies, especially when they targeted your friends. for some reason you obtained a boost of confidence and a need to protect your own friends from such people yet you couldn’t defend yourself on your best day.

the trio of you sat, eating your lunches, you were inhaling your favourite food much to the amusement of grover and percy. “i don’t think your food is running off y/n.” grover teased as you shoved his arm, “i know, but i’ve been waiting for so long, i didn’t eat anything this morning, i was too excited.” percy turned his head towards you, “you were excited?” you nodded, “for a museum?” you waved him off, returning to your food.

but not before nancy launched a sandwich percy’s way, you’d had enough, and so had he. the two of you got up despite grover’s protests, and somehow she ended up in the fountain, even though percy hadn’t touched her. you’d been lost in the crowd around the fountain and once you’d broken out you found percy on the ground.

“perce! percy are you okay?” you tried to shake him awake to no avail, so you did the next best thing, slapping him awake. twice should do it. his eyes opened, focusing in on you, “i’m here, i’m fine, i know you care about me.” relieved, yet annoyed you hit his shoulder before you and grover helped him up.

and when he did wake up he spoke about what he saw. on the walk to your hearing percy went into detail. and you couldn’t help but feel scared, what the hell was going on?

and the two of you stuck with the story of nancy throughout, feeling betrayed when grover went against you. your own parents were out of town and you were freshly kicked out of school, percy’s home was also your own. you prepared yourself before the two of you entered the apartment, gabe wasn’t exactly a sight for sore eyes.

and soon enough yourself, percy and his mother were headed for montauk. you’d left over twenty four messages for your parents but it seemed none of them had made their way through.

“so all the stories, they’re all true?” percy was fast asleep in the front seat, and the book in your hands wasn’t all that interesting. sally nodded, “i know it’s all a lot for the two of you to take in,” if percy was a demigod, then were you too? “what am i? who’s my parent then? are my parents my parents? am i adopted?” sally stopped at the intersection abruptly, turning towards you with a sad smile, “sweetheart, it doesn’t matter. your parents love you no matter what, i know it. you’ll learn everything with time, i’ll tell you more when we’re all inside okay?”

the water droplets on the window were plentiful, some big, some small, some new and others falling. the storm outside was looming, loud and dark, but it seemed to bring you comfort in all honesty, you loved the rain. and as you sat and drove all you could think of was your future, and what it had in store for you.

you’d been in the kitchen whilst listening into sally explain to percy about his parentage, the gods and goddesses. you were sure if you heard anymore you’d pass out. percy’s outburst led you back to them.

“well i’m not a baby! i know there’s no such thing as monsters, i know there’s no such thing as gods and i know for certain that there’s no such thing as demigods.” the hand on percy’s shoulder brought him back down, “percy, why would your mother lie to you? no one on this earth loves you more than her, i think we should listen.” his face was riddled with confusion, “you’re telling me you believe this crap?”

before the conversation could get heated, grover’s appearance interrupted. “what the hell are you doing here? how did you get here?” grover sighed, as much as he wanted to explain he needed you all to get moving, “i promise i’ll explain everything but somethings coming,” percy and yourself took a step back, “grover.”

“and i know that sounds really bad,”

“grover?” he brushed the two of you off, continuing to ramble at sally.

“but the important thing is not to panic—”

“i’m not panicking.” sally rested her hands on her hip, “great! i’m also definitely not panicking. i feel very good about how we’re doing so far—” you closed your eyes, maybe when you opened them it’d go away. “grover!” you and percy shouted out at the same time, “what?”

you pointed towards his legs as percy spoke up, “why is there half a goat in your pants?” his legs were bare, mist not around.

as if the day couldn’t have gotten any crazier or exhausting for you and percy grover all of a sudden showed up and you were all on the move. sally was punching the accelerator, whilst grover continued to explain, “what are you?” grover turned to face you, “i’m a satyr. and i’m your protector. i was assigned to you but we didn’t know that y/n was special like you, so i guess i’m sort of protecting you both.”

“you’re my protector? and what y/n doesn’t get one?” you laughed, “no offence but i think i’m alright perce. if you’re our protector than shouldnt you have protected us at school? against nancy?”

“i protect you against actual evil,” you snorted, “the only evil is nancy’s personality, that should count.” percy managed a smile at your words. “if i hadn’t gotten you kicked out of school, you’d have never survived the night. and what’s chasing us now would have found you there easily.” it was like a truckload of information all at once, you felt like you were in a movie.

“the mist. it’s the veil that hides the magical world from the human world. my legs. dodds’ wings. even dodds’ absence, but it isn’t supposed to hide things from me. that never happens. something powerful is at work here. the sooner we get you two to camp, the better off you’re… you told them about camp, right?” grover looked towards sally for an answer as you moved his hand away from your face. grover tended to move them around when talking about something he was passionate about.

“not yet, no.” sally shook her head as you smiled, “you’re early remember?”

“camp is a sanctuary for half-bloods.” great now you were going to a summer camp. the more he divulged the more you began to understand. you’d always been told you were special, percy especially. you should’ve known you were meant for more. demi gods were never safe, that was obvious by the huge monster behind the car.

“is that the minotaur?”

“once the attacks start, they never let up. okay? dodds was just the beginning.” you twisted your body to get another look at it, “okay well if we’re being chased than maybe less talking and more runnin, driving, whatever just go!” you shouted out, your heart was ramming against your chest, your hands felt warm and jittery. you needed to move, to do something, you hated just sitting and relying on a car. you zoned out in time for percy’s regular jokes.

“he is still wearing underpants.” you giggled at him, “i wonder what size.”

“the mythomagic cards were training. everything has been training for what’s still ahead of you, and i know wherever percy goes, you go.” you rolled your eyes, “i always hated those stupid cards, guess i should’ve played huh?” percy cocked his head, “what’s ahead of me? of us?”

“kids,” you all turned to sally, her knuckles were turning pale white, an unrelenting grip on the wheel, “hold on, please.” you clutched on to the seatbelt and seats as you all were jolted around, dodging a car and attempting to evade the minotaur, which wasn’t exactly all that easy as he rammed into the car, horns penetrating sallys window.

she fought for control, her foot pressing down on the accelerator before you all ended up crashing.

the ground was wet and mushy, you felt dirt gather underneath your fingertips as you crawled out of the car. you could see sally helping percy out as grover made his way out. your leg was aching, a shard of glass caused a gash in your thigh and dragging it along the floor hurt like a bitch, “ah, shit!” you rolled over onto your back.

percy’s eyes darted towards you the second you cried out, “y/n!” he dashed towards you, sally and grover in tow. “are you okay? what happened? where does it hurt?” his eyes were frantic and his hands unsure, the sight of you hurt was more than enough to worry him. “i’m fine, i just, if we take the shard out and tie something around then it’ll stop the bleeding right?”

percy shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head, hoping it would clear it out, the whole situation was already stressful but his best friend injured? an absolute nightmare. “i— i don’t know! mom! what do we do?” he shouted as sally grabbed your jumper from inside, “move aside percy, let me help.” he didn’t want to, percy wanted to stay right by your side, but he knew she could help you where he couldn’t.

the make shift tourniquet did the job thankfully, but you were in and out from the loss of blood, the last thing you recall was sally jackson in the hands of the minotaur, and suddenly, gone.

your voice was stuck, trapped in your throat. your eyes stung immensely, waterline flooded. she was family to you, one of the sweetest people, supportive. and just like that, erased, just dust. your eyes searched your surroundings for percy, to see him, to help him, but all you could view was darkness as it took you far away.

the last thing you’d heard was grover yelling out for the two of you, “stay awake! please!” his pleads were unmet, as you were whisked away to a world of sleep.

the light was harsh on your eyes having just woken up, at least your bed was comfortable. but you still had no clue where you were. your body was stiff, needing to move around. as you shuffled to sit a voice called out for you.

“y/n!” you turned to see percy peering through the window, a large smile on his face as he promptly ran inside to you. “percy.” his arms wrapped tightly around you, squeezing hardly. “you’re killing me here.” you croaked out as he let go, taking a step back.

“i’m sorry. do you need something? are you hungry?”

“that i am, where are we?”

“camp half-blood, welcome y/n l/n.” an older boy spoke up from the doorway with his arms crossed, leaning on the frame. “luke.” percy recognised the boy, which made you feel at ease, “hi luke.” he smiled, “hey, how are you feeling?” you sighed lifting the blanket up and resting your feet on the floor, attempting to rise from the bed. “like i need to walk a bunch, is there food around?”

luke nodded his head before signalling you to follow, “is your leg okay?” the pain had lessened since the initial hit but it was still sore, “i think i’ll be okay, might have a limp. i can be a zombie for halloween maybe.” percy was glad you were making jokes, seemingly back to normal.

the camp was everything you could have dreamed of. straight out of the pages of a book or out of a movie, amazing scenery, nice enough people, and insane skills amongst them. you had no clue how you’d fit in. you’d settled into hermes’ cabin, your bag and bed next to percy’s.

“so, how long have you been awake?” you were pushing down on your mattress with your hands, testing the springs. the bed wasn’t as soft as you’d have liked it to be but you couldn’t exactly buy a new one.

“let’s go outside and talk.” percy muttered, leading the way. you were sat down behind the cabin now, percy slowly sliding down the wall to be next to you.

“i only woke up a few minutes before you, i saw chiron he’s a—something. and i met the camp director mr d, dionysus by the way. they wouldn’t let me go back into the infirmary until we finished talking.”

“why’d you want to come back so quickly?”

“your bracelet was missing, i didn’t know where it was so i was freaking out. anyways i saw the camp a little, and i came back for it and you were awake. i got, i got scared before.” percy couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye, he felt nervous admitting it, his worry for you. your smile was wide as you recalled his own worry for the bracelet you’d made him.

“what? why?” he exhaled, his hands playing with his shirt, “i— i thought you wouldn’t wake up maybe.” you grabbed his hand, “i’m right here, there’s nothing to worry about perce. how are you feeling?” your voice was barely above a whisper, filled with sympathy and sorrow, you still hadn’t spoken about his mother.

“don’t.” he shook his head whilst averting his gaze, staring down at his hands. “don’t what? i’m not going to force you to talk about i promise, i just want to make sure you’re okay.” percy closed his eyes, “i can’t just,” percy breathed in, working up the courage to meet your eye, he hated the pity on your face, “just forget it, her.” you rested your hand on his neck, bringing him in, “no one’s asking you to percy, if there’s anything you need from me, or if you just want to sit and die of diabetes with every blue food in the world, i’ll be right there.”

“thank you.” his voice came out muffled against your shoulder. you tried your best to comfort him with a hand in his hair, you pulled him back to take a look at him. his eyes were glossy, a few tears had fallen free. using your sleeve you wiped them away, “now what demigod has the time for tears, percy jackson?”

you loved percy best like this, with a grin plastered on his face.

“yknow what we could use?” percy pulled you up from the ground, before you walked back to the cabin. “and what exactly is that m’lady?” you rolled your eyes, “first of all i despise your british accent and second, a nap!”

percy was sweating profusely, his nightmare having jolted him up from his bed. his jittery movements concerned you, book in your hands forgotten as you surged forwards, “perce? you okay?” his eyes were blown and chest heaving, but at the sight of you he relaxed, “yeah, yeah i’m fine.”

“you okay?” luke stood infront of the two of you, arms crossed, “super.” percy snipped back as you swatted his arm, “be nice.” your voice was firm, and you knew how percy was, you’d say sarcasm was probably his middle name if you hadn’t already known it.

“we all have them, you know.” luke clicked his tongue, taking a step closer. “intense, recurring nightmares. that’s normal here.” his words were surprising to you, knowing that yourself and percy rarely fit in.

“and the daydreams, and the ADHD, and dyslexia. demigods just process reality differently, than humans do. for the first time in your life, you’re just like everyone else.” you let out a sigh, whether of relief or sadness you didn’t know. did you want to fit in? be the same as everyone else? nothing special?

“so are you also… do you not know who your—“ lukes lips pressed into a thin line, knowing what percy insinuated, “am i… unclaimed?” the two of you nodded in unison, “no, hermes is my father. that doesn’t matter, we’re all on the same team here.”

percy’s agitation was obvious, as well as reasonable and it was exactly how you felt. “each kid is brought here and made to wait around until their parent decides to pick up the phone? pick up— whatever. how is that fair?“ percy nodded along, “she’s right, why is that okay? why do they get to bring us here to just ignore some of us?” you did feel bad for luke, you felt as if the two of you were bombarding him with questions and expecting him to hold all of life’s answers.

“spend too much time trying to figure out why the gods do whatever it is they do, you’ll drive yourself crazy. sooner you stop worrying about that, the sooner you can enjoy what this place actually does offer.”

percy’s interest piqued, “and what’s that?”

“glory.”

you’d spent hours trying different things. percy almost hit a bunch of campers with an arrow, whilst you’d hit the bullseye, much to your elation. the both of you were absolutely horrendous at welding, which you figured. the only thing that had stuck with you through out the day was the idea of offerings. and you knew percy was thinking the same thing.

the smell of fire invaded your senses as percy threw in the thing that meant most, whilst you sat by him and wondered if it would actually work, would she be able to hear you? you’d zoned out for a bit, feeling as if you were intruding whilst he talked.

“i hope you’re sitting down, but… i think… i’ve made some friends here. like, real friends. y/n and i, we might actually fit in for once.” you beamed at the thought, yet not wanting to interrupt so you settled for nudging his shoulder to which he smiled at you, “i think they might really like me. imagine that. he isn’t here. my father, he just… didn’t show. i mean, ignoring me is one thing, but he doesn’t get to ignore you. i’m gonna make him come down here. i’m gonna make him see me, i’m gonna make him see us both.” and with that he blew out the fire, a small flicker of hope ignited inside.

“we’re going to get her back percy, i swear.”

and that was the end of your pleasant night, the reign of terror, clarisse and others were infront of your cabin. and that’s where your night went haywire.

you and percy were thrown to the floor roughly, landing on your bad thigh caused you to shout in pain. “aw, does someone have a scratch? where’d you get it from? the minotaur?” the girl was blonde, and you had no clue who she was but her mocking tone made you want to punch her in the face.

“do you think you’re special? better than everyone else?”

“no.”

“tell me you made it all up about the minotaur, and I’ll let you go. maybe to impress your friend here? you practically have heart eyes when you look at her.” clarisse approached you, “don’t touch her!” percy shouted as clarisse chuckled, “why not? you gonna stop me?”

“he didn’t make anything up.” you responded to her question since percy hadn’t, with her harsh glare you prayed for the earth to swallow you whole. “she’s right, i didn’t make anything up.” clarisse was hoping for truthfulness from percy, she couldn’t tell if she was disappointed or happy, she could teach him a lesson.

“some kids gotta learn the hard way.” the two other girls charged towards percy before abruptly walking around him, dragging you up by the elbows. “hey! if you’re mad at me then hurt me! don’t touch her! let her go!” clarisse held percy back as the girls forced you to your knees, “guys i appreciate the sentiment but i’m not all that thirsty.” please tell me this wasn’t used recently.

percy thrashed around in her grip, desperate to save you, “you really like her don’t you? not a single ounce of fight in you when it’s your ass on the line but for her,” his chest heaved, and his hands clenched, he wasn’t commonly violent, but a beat down on clarisse seemed amazing right about now.

“get off her! y/n!” your eyes were clenched shut in an attempt to prepare yourself, holding your breath, yet nothing happened. when you peeled your eyes open you were met with an empty toilet bowl.

“please tell me you guys didn’t drink it yourselves.” if it wasn’t already an indication of her irritation based on the scowl on her face the second-grade ‘you stole my swing’ type of pull at your hair dragged you back to younger self. but what really awakened you were the three tentacle like forms of water, “what the hell?” the harsh collision of your back on the wall saved you from the attack. the girls all staggered around, careful of the water before scurrying out.

percy rushed over to you, hands cradling your face, “are you okay? did they hurt you? you didn’t touch the water did you?” you raised your hand to cut off percy’s rambling, “i’m fine, but what the hell was that?” he shook his head, “not a single idea in my head.” percy slumped opposite of you, “there’s not much in your head either way.” percy placed his hand on his heart, feigning shock and hurt, “how dare you!” your giggles rejuvenated percy, your smile was all he needed to be happy again.

the figure of someone at the door caused you to shoot up, careful of the water, you saw annabeth come into view. crap.

“we can explain.” you both held up your hands, caught at the scene of the crime and afraid of the consequences. “no, you can’t.” percy nodded in agreement, “okay,” the girls face resonated with percy, eyebrows knitting together in confusion as he tried to recall how, “wait, I know you.”

annabeth shrugged her shoulders, “no, you don’t.” percy stepped forwards infront of you, directly inline with her, “yeah, but you were there. that night in the infirmary.” you couldn’t recall seeing her there when you woke up, “i don’t think she was, i don’t remember seeing you.” anabeth peered down at her shoes before returning to the conversation.

“yes. i’m annabeth.” she introduced herself, you’d heard of her a bit from other campers, daughter of athena.

“are you stalking us, annabeth?”

“yes.” her bluntness was something you didn’t expect. “okay. why?” you inquired further, “well, i’ve been waiting to see if something like this would happen. “so i’d know if you can help me.”

“you’ve been waiting for me to get my head in a toilet and for percy to be manhandled? well, girlhandled.” percy was confused, “help you do what?”

“win capture the flag.”

the helmets weren’t exactly the most comfortable but you figured keeping your brain in your skull was more crucial.

you walked next to luke with percy on the left of him, “you’re gonna love this. campwide mock warfare, all glory to the victors. annabeth’s the head counselor of the athena cabin. she’s led our team to three straight wins. been a long time since anyone’s won a fourth.”

“she was there in the bathroom, she said she’d been waiting for it to happen.”

“annabeth sees the world differently. always six steps ahead of everyone else. you should cut her a break.” you scoffed, “cut her a break for what? her life seems perfectly fine.” luke shook his head, “not everything’s as it seems y/n.”

“whose side are you on, anyway?”

luke stopped and turned towards percy, “oh, hers, always. she’s my little sister. maybe I should back up.” you nodded, “i think we should sit down if we’re going to be getting an origin story here.”

luke’s entire story of how he and annabeth got to camp made you regret your earlier comments of an easy life. she’d been fighting since she was a child, it’s all she’s known. “she’s been watching us since we got here. why?”

“annabeth is the strongest warrior in camp, the only way left to prove herself is to go on a quest.”

“and what does this have to do with us?”

“chiron’s been promising her for years. one day, a demigod would arrive who was fated to go on a quest that even chiron couldn’t prevent. and when that happened, she could join it. every new arrival, or, arrivals in your case, annabeth watches, looking for a sign they’re the one. usually, she gives up after a day or two, but she’s still watching you two.”

“can you ask her to knock it off?” as much as you hated to admit it, she did kind of freak you out, “i agree, we’re not going on some magical quest any time soon.”

“yeah, sure. but you never know, what if she’s right?” the conch shell blowing in the distance alerted you all.

it was battle time.

as you walked behind luke you couldn’t help your nervousness, which percy always noticed. “hey,” his voice was soft and reassuring, a hand on your shoulder, “we’re gonna be fine, it’s just a friendly game. we’ve won three times and we’re going to get a fourth since they have us brilliant additions of course.” percy literally bowed in front of you as if being applauded for a performance as you chuckled, “oh please, you cant win with idiocy percy.”

“that is extremely offensive! how many times have i beaten you in monopoly?”

“ohh, you want to talk about monopoly mr bank robber? do you honestly think no one noticed when you randomly turn in broken change and grab even more bigger notes? or the fact that three houses does not make a hotel!” clarisse watched the two of you fool around from afar, she was going to make you pay.

the pebble you’d thrown clattered against percy’s armour, “hey! what was that for?” you groaned out loud, your head lolling back, meeting the log. “if you keep flossing i’m going to push you myself perce. you need to take this more serious—” the girls surrounded you from every angle, swords in hand as you rose from the floor, your own sword clutched tightly.

“flags that way, it’s not here.” clarisse smirked, “we know. yeah, glory’s fine. revenge is more fun.” her spear crackled as they all surged forwards, time to fight, it’s now or never.

clarisse’s scream was deafening. “so much for friendly huh?” percy shook his head, “not now! you can tell me how wrong i was when we’re out of here.” for some reason once they’d begun their attack, you’d never felt more alive. as if you were born for this, to fight. every sword and hit that came your way was met with double the force, hurling people backwards as you tried to make your way to percy’s side. one of the girls was sly, managing to corner you on the boardwalk near by.

her knee, she’s weak in the knees.

the voice echoed through your head, as if compelled you followed up on it as the girl went down almost immediately. thank you very much random voice! the sound of cheers floated through the air as you saw luke plant the flag in the ground.

4 — 0.

perhaps you’d been distracted by the people, or maybe it was percy being held by his armour courtesy of clarisse. either way you didn’t notice the girl lunging your way, not until the cold water engulfed your body.

you’d never learnt to properly swim.

percy’s footsteps drummed through the air, each step heavy and weighed down with purpose. he had to get to you, now. the second you’d hit the water he was on the ground running. it had only been about five seconds at most yet percy was already at your previous spot, diving in head first.

act now, think later.

your eyesight was blurry as the two of you resurfaced, the first thing you spotted the crowd on the shoreline, they waited with bated breath, your team cheering once the two of you were back up. “i’m so sorry, i said i would protect you but clarisse— i was so scared when i saw you get pushed, i think i froze up. i should’ve listened to you, i should’ve taken it more seriously. this is all my fault.” he was holding onto your face for dear life, afraid to let go.

percy had dived head first into the water for you, no hesitation. he put himself at risk for you. he always knew what to say and what to do. percy was your person. you’d been an idiot, why’d it take so long for you to realise what you knew deep down?

you love percy jackson. and not in a friend way, in a love way. in the best way.

your lips were pressed on his in seconds, you weren’t in a hurry, not desperate, not messy. just passionate and deep, as if you were trying to convey your feelings through it. you were simultaneously trying your hardest to remember this moment. percy’s cold hands on your cheeks, both of you sopping wet, nothing else mattered to you, until he kissed back. percy on the other hand was desperate, he’d been waiting for so long, settling for the title of best friend. he had you in his arms, he’d already lost his own mother, he wasn’t going to lose his other half.

his hair tousled, curls sticking to his face, yours dripping wet, hands on your neck as you clutched his. ���what are we percy?” he grinned, “whatever we want to be.” the pair of you may have forgotten the fact that you were currently surrounded by campers, but the deafening cheers and shouts of support warmed your heart. surely a kiss didn’t elicit such a reaction? yes it did, but also the fact that a trident loomed over percy’s head.

percy jackson, son of poseidon.

the two of you walked with a literal army of people, friends, even. for once you both felt as if you belonged.

luke was unbearable, taking any chance he could to tease the two of you, “my little campers, all grown up.” he fake-cried, wiping false tears from his eyes as you poked him, “now if we can find someone then where’s your partner pal?” percy laughed, “please never say pal again.” you turned his way, scrunching your nose, “doesn’t work does it?” he shook his head as the three of you chuckled.

“but seriously, you two are made for each other, i’m happy for you.” as you reached the cabin you couldn’t help yourself as you hugged luke by surprise, “thank you. we’ll be in soon, we just have a bit to talk about.” luke made his way inside as the two of you turned to walk away but not before hearing him call out, “keep your hands to yourself percy!” percy rolled his eyes as you smiled.

the two of you sat at the boardwalk again, feet dangling off. you’d been discussing the quest, as well as the fact that it was only undertaken by three.

“so, you, me, anabeth and grover. percy i know school sucks but if you could count those names on your fingers for me please.” percy groaned as you laughed at your own joke, “i know, i know. but i figure four heads are better than three.” your legs swung back and forth as you shrugged your shoulders, “we could fold grover into a box and take him with us secretly.” percy suggested.

“yeah, maybe.” your voice was quieter than before, eliciting concern from percy, “hey? you okay?” you were fidgeting again, this time with the black bracelet you’d made for him. he met your eyes with a smile as he lifted your head by the chin.

“i promise, i’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” and for once you could feel how serious he was, “thank you perce, you— have been apart of my life since i was little. i don’t think there’s a single person i trust more on this planet than you. i’m sorry, for everything you’ve gone through. i swear, we’re going to make it out of this. we’re going to find your mother, we’re going to find the lighting bolt, and everything can return to normal. well, besides the fact that we’re all demigods and all.” the laughter was bittersweet, a moment of peace before you embarked on the quest.

“you’re beautiful you know that?” he whispered to you, as if he was afraid for others to hear. you grinned at his words, leaning in towards him as he followed, “i know, you make it a point to tell me at least once a day. but you, percy, are as gorgeous as the calm seas.”

you wiggled your finger in his face as he swatted it away, “if i had known my girlfriend was a poet i would’ve had every word of yours written down.” you felt fuzzy, warm. with percy you felt a million ways, all of them good.

as cheesy as he was you loved him.

“look at us, exploring a whole new world.”

“did you just aladdin me?”

“yup, do you think they have a flying carpet here?”

“why so zeus can strike it down when he’s angry? i feel like the gods are all little kids throwing temper tantrums.” percy shushed you, “they might be listening.” he joked as you punched him.

“i hope they are. so they know, we’re coming for them.”

“holy shit that was a badass line.”

“perce?”

“yeah?”

“you’re ruining it.”

[moonstruckme]

hello! I spent a whole day reading your marauder fics and I am obsessed with them and your writing. I was wondering (if you’re still taking requests) if you could write one with poly!marauders with a slytherin!reader where she acts cold and tough with everyone else but turns soft for the boys and they tease her about it but only because they LOVE it.

hope that’s enough! ❤️

Thank you lovely!!

cw: takes place in the infirmary, our poor lovely Jamie is hurt </3

poly!marauders x slytherin!reader ♡ 931 words

“I’m fine.” You stalk down the hallway, batting away the hands of your friends like mosquitos. “I’m fine, it doesn’t even hurt. Sod off.” 

The door to the infirmary opens, a familiar head of black hair peeking out. He says your name. 

Something in you slackens reflexively. “I’ll meet up with you later,” you tell your pursuers, darting inside. 

You find yourself pressed against Sirius’ chest, his hand covering the back of your head protectively. You don’t try to free yourself from the embrace, but you do angle your head on his shoulder, trying to see the bed behind him. 

“Is James okay?” 

“He is,” comes James’ overly upbeat voice, and you finally get a view of him. He’s sitting upright in bed, his right arm in a sling, looking a bit bedraggled but not much worse for wear. You were terrified he’d be all bloody and broken. Remus sits next to him. His brow is all sewn together, worry flying off him in every direction, and you know he’d be right there with Sirius if his hand weren’t so thoroughly attached to James’ knee. You don’t blame him; you’d only been hit, whereas James had been hit and then fallen thirty feet. 

You’d been watching the Slytherin versus Gryffindor quidditch match from the stands when a wayward bludger had flown toward you, catching you in the shoulder and knocking you clean over. You’d been too busy getting your bearings to see what happened next, but reportedly a Slytherin beater (who you will be having some heated words with in the common room later) took advantage of James’ distraction to send another bludger his way. He came completely off his broom, and though Sirius had been quick with a spell to slow his descent, you can’t imagine the impact with the pitch was pleasant.

“Are you okay?” Remus turns your question back around on you. 

You nod your head into Sirius’ shoulder, giving him a fierce squeeze around the middle before wriggling out of his grasp. 

“You didn’t hit your head?” you ask James, stealing a chair from another bed and sitting beside him. You burrow your fingers into his curls to feel for yourself. 

“Nope,” he says, catching your wrist with his uninjured hand and kissing the inside. “I’m good, sweetheart. Just dislocated my shoulder s’all.” 

“S’all?” Your voice is incredulous. You feel your face scrunch woefully as you stroke his cheek with your thumb. “Jamie, I’m so sorry.” 

His eyebrows fly up. “I don’t see what you’d be apologizing for.” 

You grimace, your good shoulder coming up sheepishly. “I distracted you…” 

“You didn’t ask to take a crack from a bludger,” Remus says, quiet but stern. His eyes dip to your shoulder, where the cursed thing had struck. “Let’s see it.” 

You sigh and pull down the sleeve of your jumper. You hadn’t been expecting it to bruise yet, but the red mark is already starting to darken around the edges. James hisses through his teeth as Sirius rounds you, crouching beside your chair to get a better look. 

“Shit,” he says, frowning as he touches the mark gingerly with the tip of his thumb, “are you sure you haven’t knocked your shoulder out too?” 

“I don’t think so,” you say, somewhat quietly. Being at the center of your boyfriends’ combined concern is a disaster for your nerves; it makes you as timid as a first year. 

James pouts at you, taking the hand closest to him and pressing a wet smooch to your palm. 

“I heard you sniping at your friends in the hallway,” Sirius says. “You can’t tell me that doesn’t hurt, doll.”

You look at him through your lashes, sheepish. “It does,” you admit. 

He and James coo, and you roll your eyes, turning away from them both. 

Remus’ eyebrows pull up in the middle, his gaze gentle on yours. It softens you considerably. “Think you ought to have it looked at?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” James says brightly, “we could match.” 

Remus’ frown deepens at the reminder, his hand rubbing sympathetically at James’ knee. 

“Thanks, but I’m okay.” You give James a weary smile, but his eyes narrow behind his glasses. 

“You want something,” he says. 

You blink. “No, I don’t.” 

He studies you a second longer, then nods. “Yeah you do,” he decides. “Out with it.” 

You blow out a breath, rolling your eyes, but he waits. You can’t quite look at any of them as you say, “I just sort of want a hug.” 

“Aww,” Sirius croons, all but pushing himself into you as he engulfs you in his arms. “The ice queen melts at last, huh?” 

“Don’t tell anyone,” you mumble wryly, and James laughs, giving your fingers a loving squeeze. “Anyway, I’m not the one who wound up in the infirmary.” 

“Only because Jamie’s smart enough to go.” Remus gives you a meaningful look, but there’s enough softness in it to let you know he’s not really cross with you. Still, you muffle your apology into Sirius’ shoulder. 

He holds you tighter. Digs his fingertips greedily into the material of your jumper. 

“Don’t hurt her shoulder,” James says fretfully. 

“I’m not,” Sirius replies, but he loosens his grip a bit. “I’m not, right?” You hum your agreement, and he’s pressing in on you again, biceps flexing. “You’re our lovebug,” he tells you, teasing undercut by an uncharacteristic firmness. “You know you don’t have to be tough around us, yeah?” 

You grasp the tops of his shoulders in response, an affection so huge it pains you rising in your throat. “Yeah,” you say. 

[giuliettagaltieri]

Shower of Gold

Pairing: Dad!Coriolanus Snow x Mom!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: The Mother

Warning: warming up to parenthood

Word Count: 2874

6 of 7

When Aurelius Hyperion Swansworth-Snow was born, Coriolanus’ world just got a whole lot bigger.

He never thought he could love another the same as he loved you.  But he did.

Little Harper, as you would call him, looked exactly like his father.  The same golden curls and piercing blue eyes.  His cheeks were fat and pink as he babbled.

And just like his father, Little Harper loved you very much.

You have never been without Harper.  To the point that it often puts a strain on the intimate relationship you had with your husband.  But one pointed stare from you would let Coriolanus loosen his possessive hold on your waist, often looking like a kicked puppy as he sulks the entire night, sleeping with his back turned to you.

But with a wet kiss and a chubby hand slapping his cheek awake in the mornings, his brooding dissipates and he gladly accepts his little boy’s affections.

“Good morning, daddy.”  You say as your son claps his hands excitedly.

Coriolanus blinks his eyes as he looks at you, the sleepy fog is yet to leave his head but it does not stop him from seeing just how beautiful you are.  You are still in your sleeping gown, your hair disheveled, and your eyes still droop with sleepiness.  He believes it was at moments like this when he loves you the most.  When his mind is empty and your smiling face is the first thing that enters his head.

“Good morning.”  He drawls and he turns to his son who was nibbling at his deltoid that was the size of the kid’s head.  He looks at the string of saliva that webbed on his arm.  “That’s unsanitary.”

You scoff at your husband, cooing at your baby the next second.  “He just misses his daddy.  Don’t you, Harper?”

Harper looks at you curiously, bringing his chubby fist to his mouth.  You lay your head to Coriolanus’ chest as you coo at him.  Harper was unsure what you were doing but the happiness on your face brought forth a toothless smile from him.

He receives a smooch to his cheek from you and absentmindedly, Coriolanus puts his large hands to your baby’s face.

Your baby’s eyes cross as he keeps his eyes on your husband’s enormous hand.

Before you can ask what he is doing, Coriolanus gently pushes him down to the pillow that supports his back. 

You shriek in mortification, your baby blinks at the ceiling, not quite processing what has happened.  You swat at your husband’s chest as you get up to help your son to sit back up.

“I am so sorry, baby.  Daddy’s such a horrible man, isn’t he?”  You coo to your baby who is yet unsure whether he should be laughing or crying.  “Daddy, you bully!”  You accuse him as you pat your baby’s leg gently.

He only looks at you blankly, making you sigh and lean down to plant a kiss to his awaiting lips.  He always gets so cranky in the early mornings.

“Now, get up.”  You say as you rub his chest.�� Coriolanus grunts as he gets out of bed, stretching like a cat as he yawns.  He ruffles Harper’s blonde curls before leaving you to take a shower.

He was already halfway through his coffee when you arrived with Harper now freshly bathed.

Coriolanus looks at Harper as you place him on the high chair. 

“We have a meeting today.”  Coriolanus reminds you as he keeps his eyes trained on his son.

You nod.  “Yes, I studied the report last night.”

“Harper?”  He sips his coffee as he reads the recent reports about the new District 12 mayor.

You chuckle knowingly as you nuzzle your nose against Harper’s.  “Little Harper’s coming with mommy, of course.”  He giggled as his fingers were quick to grab at your clothes.

Coriolanus smiles in his seat after he stole a glance at you.

“One wail and he’s out.”

“Oh, honestly!”  You have taken offense for your boy but Coriolanus challenges you with his own stern gaze.  “So mean.”  You mutter as you start feeding Harper with baby food.

Your husband puts the papers away and starts his breakfast.  “I just did not want you to look unprofessional.” 

“Corio?”

“Hm?”

“Shut up.”

His eyes narrow before he returns to his breakfast.

A scowl was painted on your face the entire breakfast and you refused to talk to him anymore.  Responding with nods and silence to his attempt to start another conversation.

Coriolanus knows that he might have offended you deeply.

“Are you ready?”  He asks as you wipe Harper’s face with the bib.

You respond by getting up and scooping your son in your arms, your chin raised as you carry yourself with elegance.  The baby bag was waiting to be picked up by you in the corner but Coriolanus beats you to it.

He walks ahead of you, the baby bag slung on his shoulder and his briefcase on his other hand.  You quietly follow him, not acknowledging him when he opens the doors for you, one leading out of your mansion and the other to your car.

Coriolanus waits by the backseat, just next to Harper’s car seat.  He had to pick it personally.  It was heavily padded, bulky enough to put you at ease, knowing that your baby will be protected should anything happen.

“I’ll strap him in.”  He offers as he fixes the aviators resting on his nose as he looks past your head.

Coriolanus is a proud man, you understand this is his way of apologizing.

You kiss Harper’s nose and you place him in your husband’s secure hold.

In the meantime, you buckle yourself in the passenger seat.

Coriolanus soon joins you in front and he starts the car after securing his seatbelt.

The silence was loud, had it not been for Harper’s babbles, you would have been tempted to turn the radio on.  You choose to review your itinerary for the day when a warm hand sneaks to your thigh and you feel Coriolanus’ thumb brushing it in a soothing manner.

“Apologize properly.”  You quip.

“Y/N please.”  He says tiredly.

“No.  I want you to say you are sorry.”

He wets his lips with his tongue and his jaw tightens as he keeps his eyes on the road, the leather cladding the wheel creaks under his grip.

When he refuses to do it, you return to your schedule.

“I’m sorry.”

You keep your eyes on the piece of paper attached to your planner and your husband groans as he leans back in his chair, his head resting on the support. 

“I’m sorry for antagonizing our son.”  He squeezes your thigh.  “And for insulting you.  I know you are more than capable in balancing both your duties to Panem and our family.”

Finally, your rouge painted lips spread to a small smile.

“You are forgiven.”  You place your hand over his.  The glint of the rings on your finger easing his anxiousness a bit more.

Harper yaps and Coriolanus grins.  “Yes, I know.  I’m sorry, I’m not stealing mommy.”

You press a knuckle to your lips, not wanting to laugh as your son takes quick offense in being left out.  You try to keep your voice down as you turn to your husband.  “I’ll make time for us later, I promise.”

He brings your hand to his lips to kiss and quickly lets you go as Harper yaps angrily.

The moment you enter the presidential mansion, one you use only for official business, Harper understands that he cannot be fussy anymore.  He was seated on your lap, nibbling on a fruit pacifier as a man talked while pointing at the bright square behind him.  The moving objects greatly entertained the baby on your lap.

Harper recognizes your voice and looks up.  He pulls the pacifier from his mouth when your tone sharpens.  The boy’s blond crinkle together as his lips jut out when the unknown man responds to you with anger.

The other people in the room also seem to be angry at the person standing and Harper leans back on your stomach knowing that his mommy is not alone.  But the man is suddenly pointing at you and to him, the poor innocent boy.  Harper grunts and looks at his father angrily.

“Da!”

Coriolanus, who was leaning to the side with his legs crossed, looked at his son.  He brings a finger to his lips and Harper huffs.

“You are failing to see things objectively.”  Coriolanus says to the man who was starting to sweat under the disapproving eyes of everyone present in the room.  “The Lady did not dismiss your idea because she was biased to infants.  Your idea was dismissed as administering a vaccine to the younger population of Panem without having it thoroughly tested could be catastrophic.  We are talking about large scale mortality.”

The man laughs and Harper presses himself closer to you, disturbed by the behavior.

“Why do you care, Mister President?  They’re just Districts!”

Coriolanus nods, finally understanding the argument of this man.  He had suspicions but he wanted the man to say it. 

“Districts.”  Coriolanus grins sardonically.  “Do you plan to instigate a second rebellion?”

The man is tongue-tied, he makes wild gestures but fails to keep his argument.  “Exaggeration.”  He laughs nervously.

“When their children start dying off, will they not fight back?”  Coriolanus asks.  “And a rebellion does not happen overnight.”  He adds.  “It is because of the piling up missteps made by men like you.”  Harper slams his chubby hand on the desk to show he is on his father’s side.  “Thank you, Harper.  And who will suffer when that happens?”

The man looks at his feet in shame.  The backlash could be severe.  The crops and livestock sent to the Capitol could be poisoned.  The Capitol could be powered down when all the system shuts off.

Countless possibilities and consequences could take place after one wrong decision.

“But I understand that this vaccine is important.”  Coriolanus sighs.  “Send it back to the lab.  Study it further for possible adverse reactions.  I will not give the greenlight until you are able to tell me the mechanism of action of this vaccine without looking at your notes.”

As the men file out of the room, you sit Harper on the hard wood table as you clean up your desk.  “I cannot believe the cabinet let this man reach your office.  He was unprepared.”  You say and Harper continues to chew on his pacifier, the crushed cherries inside needs replacing.

Coriolanus agrees with you and scoops Harper off the table, the little boy draws his arms and chin over his father’s shoulder to check if you are close by.  “Shall we go, my love?”

You nod and you stand on your tippy toes to press a kiss on Harper’s cheek as you lean on Coriolanus for support.

The next event is the annual summit, where Coriolanus is expected to give a speech involving the latest reports and advancements made by Panem’s Capitol based research facility and what plans lie ahead. 

In the ceremony, the Lady Justice was often a symbolic figure that was ever present.  Only this time, a sword seems to have gone missing in the smaller statue that is kept in the Presidential mansion’s reception hall.

“This is a disgrace.”  Your husband tells the staff who were in charge of the events.  “How could something so essential be misplaced?”

Harper was getting fussy in your arms at the sight of his father so agitated.

It seemed rather insignificant but having it missing is a blatant display of disrespect.

Your mind races for possible solutions.

You can talk to the media to cut the view of the Lady Justice.

Or perhaps you can have the entire statue be carried out of the room, no that would cause too much commotion.

And then it hits you.

“Corio.”  You call and he reluctantly heads your way.  “The sword in your office.” 

Harper pulls at Coriolanus’ tie and nibbles.  Your husband gently pulls the fabric, ignoring the wet stain as he processes your words.

“I think it might be the perfect size.”  He rubs his chin.  “I’ll go send someone to get it.”

You put a firm hand on his chest and he pauses.

“Harper and I will come get it.”  You smile at him reassuringly.  “It’s only a few floors up.  And the peacekeepers stationed in your office will let me through and out with no hitches.”

Coriolanus wanted to protest but you were right.

You would be most efficient for the task.

“I can watch Harper.”  He offers but you shake your head.

“Relax for now.  Harper is going to help mommy get the sword.”

Coriolanus smiles tiredly and he presses his forehead against yours, his large hand placed on Harper’s back protectively.

“Da.”  Harper calls and Coriolanus chuckles and snaps his fingers, an Avox places a pair of aviators to his hands, one he previously wore, and he puts it on Harper.  

You often do this when you expect a lot of camera flashes.  You would hate to overwhelm your baby.

“Still can’t believe that’s his first word when he’s such a momma’s boy.”  Your husband says, making you smile affectionately.

You give him one last look before you rush out of the room with Harper in your arms.  Camera flashes from the reporters follow after you.

The guests are already arriving and the main media companies are setting up their equipment.  You have no time to lose.

Harper was such a good kid, not fussing as he clung to you when you rushed to the office of your dear husband.

As expected, the peacekeepers stationed outside the doors let you through without even asking about your business to be in the office.

You easily spot the sword on the side.  It hasn’t been removed from the position you first saw it in back at the inauguration of Coriolanus as President.

“You beauty.”  You smile as you easily grab it from the bracket mounted on the wall.  Harper made an attempt to touch it but you were quick enough to pull it away from him.  “This is dangerous, sweetheart.”  You easily slip it inside the scabbard as you refuse to take any chances for Harper.

The peacekeepers stationed outside the presidential office were oriented about what happened and gladly reopened the door for you and Harper.

People moved out of the way as they saw the sword on your hand and the baby on the other.  You have your chin held high as you enter the hall.  Coriolanus stopped mid sentence while talking to Strabo Plinth at the sight of you.

“Oh, good Heavens!”  Mrs. Plinth exclaims and approaches you with concern.  You looked rather dangerous with the enormous weapon in your hand.  Harper smiles brightly when he sees her and he raises his arms, wanting to be picked up by the woman.  Mrs. Plinth cups her mouth, touched by the little boy’s behavior.  You gladly hand her your son.

Grandmotherhood is a privilege stolen from her.

Mr. Plinth was smiling at you when you approached him and your husband.

“She saves the day.”  He tells Coriolanus who nods with a proud look in his eyes. 

You give Coriolanus the sword and he steps on the ladders to place the sword on the empty hand of the Lady Justice.

“Justice is restored.”  The former President, Maximinius Ravinstill, claps his hand and the rest of the crowd rises from their seats to applaud you and Coriolanus.  Justice was not something that could have easily been lost after the disappearance of a sword but The Lady Justice was an important symbolic figure not just to Corso but to Panem.

That night, you are in your shared bedroom.  You are resting your back on the headboard, your tired back being cushioned by enormously large pillows while your son has fallen asleep from nursing on your ample bosom.

You are humming a soft tune, your feet moving to the melody when Coriolanus enters.  He is yet to change his clothing as he was still in his dress pants and shirt that has a few buttons undone.

“Your grand entrance overshadowed the event.”  He grins as he shows you the paper.  There in the headlines, a picture of you with Harper held on one arm and sword on the other.

“Oh, Corio.”  You frown apologetically.  “I am sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”  He scoffs, the smile remaining on his face.  “Everybody loved it!  They forgave the errors I mentioned as they were so enamored by you.”

You are not certain how to respond but he shows you the photo once more.

“Look at Harper.”  He says excitedly.  “Grandma’am sent a photo of mine when I was still a toddler and he looks exactly just like me.”

You are not certain if Coriolanus was aware of the smitten look on his face but you dare not point it out as you listen to him talk about the photos and Harper.

Coriolanus might act indifferent to his son at times but he cannot deny the fact that Harper has him wrapped around his chubby little finger.

Quest for Happiness

News Article

More on Harper's name in the comments

[bueckers-sturniolo]

you are in love. (part 2 to the alchemy)

paige bueckers x fem!reader

read part 1 here!

word count: 1,234!

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol, drunk!paige, smooching. ALSO, if u listen to the song and read, i skipped around and used different lyrics to make this flow easier and more understandable.

authors note: HI GUYS! i wrote the alchemy 10-ish days ago now, and you guys have shown me so much love and support. i cannot express how happy i am that you guys enjoy my writing :) i hope you guys love, love, love this. i love love love you. part 3 coming soon, hopefully :)

p.s. all of the words highlighted in blue are references back to you are in love. enjoy :)

one look, dark room. meant just for you. time moved too fast, you play it back. buttons on a coat, lighthearted joke. no proof, not much. but, you saw enough. small talk, he drives. coffee at midnight. the light reflects, the chain on your neck. he says,’look up,’ and your shoulders brush. no proof, one touch, but you felt enough.

the night after the game was a blur. well, partly. the team was now at a restaurant-bar type thing. some of you were drinking, some of you aren’t. paige was, which, everytime the team went out, she did. but, this time is… different.

shes always a little touchy-feely when drunk, but, she’s taking it to a whole new level tonight. right now, you’re talking to kk, sitting down, and she’s somewhere taking shots with azzi. you’ve been keeping an eye on her all night, but…. she tends to wander.

you’re currently drinking an espresso martini, even though it was close to midnight and it probably wasn’t the best idea to drink coffee at midnight. but, who cares? it’s fun.

“im surprised paige isn’t attached to your hip, right now.” kk says, snapping you out of your daze with a light-hearted joke.

you chuckle, shaking your head. your gaze meets paige again. she finally locks eyes with you, and smiles lopsidedly.

“holy shit, she’s hammered.” you whisper to kk, and kk laughs, “yeah, she normally gets a little tipsy after a win.” you nod at that, then signal for paige to walk over to you guys.

she makes her way over to you guys, immediately walking up behind you and resting her chin on your shoulder.

“hey, hiccup, killer. what’s up?” paige says, slurring her words. you can smell the alcohol. maybe it’s from the close proximity, maybe she’s just chugging alcohol like it’s spring break. you have no clue, but regardless, it kinda makes your stomach turn. it’s not a great smell.

“just checkin’ on you,” you mumble, turning your face to look at her. she looks at you from the corner of her eyes, smiling slightly. “how much have you had to drink?”

“a few, not a lot…” she says, still smiling. you chuckle, looking back at kk with a ‘are you hearing this bitch lie straight through her teeth?’ look, and kk just smiles.

paige’s hand made its way around your body, then brings it up to your collarbones, fiddling with the necklace around your neck. she hums as she looks at it.

“it’s sparkly.” paige says, her drunk mind being weirdly fascinated with the way the light reflects the chain on your neck. you smile at that, finding it absolutely fucking adorable how interesting she finds this necklace, even though you wear it all the time.

one step, not much. but, it said enough. you kiss on sidewalks,

by the time paige is ready to leave, it’s 1:46 am. the rest of the team had left already, getting bored of waiting for paige to hurry up. but, you felt obligated to stay. so, you call an uber, then you guys stand outside on the sidewalk. it’s december, and it’s extremely cold outside. you and paige stand huddled up to each other, shivering. your teeth started chattering together, and paige couldn’t bare it anymore.

that’s when paige wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you into her. it wasn’t really for her sake, at all. it was for yours.

you rest your head into the crook of her neck, pushing your hands inbetween your bodies to seek some sort of warmth. you guys stand like this in silence for a few minutes. then, her drunk temptations started to get the best of her. she gently nudges your face with her shoulder, signaling for you to lift it up.

as you do, she looks at you for a few seconds. you were extremely confused as to why she would take away your sense of heat, and then she kisses you. she kisses you.

what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck, is your only thought. after a few moments of shock, you decide to kiss back, bringing your hands up to her face. it feels wrong, you feel guilty. she’s so drunk she probably doesn’t even know what she’s doing.

but, drunk actions are sober thoughts. so, fuck it, you think.

as the uber rolls up beside you guys, she breaks the kiss. she then just lets go of you and walks off like it didn’t fucking happen. what. the. fuck. is still your only thought.

you fight, then you talk.

the next morning, you decide to ask her about it. bad choice, but hell, why not?

“so… you just…” you stay silent for a few seconds, “don’t remember kissing me? at all?” you say, getting frustrated. you had no real reason as to getting angry over this, but, you wanted her to remember it. you wanted her to have meant it.

“no, i do not fuckin’ remember it, why is it even such a big deal? friends kiss all the time as a joke.” paige says, shrugging. she’s sitting across from you on your couch right now, and she’s sitting as far as she can. why the fuck is she doing this?

“paige, i just-“ you cut yourself off, running your hands over your face. how do you defend the fact that you’re angry about your best friend not remembering kissing you while drunk? it’s not even that big of a deal, really.

“look, im sorry i did it. im sorry i dont remember. it was a mistake, y/n.” she says, sighing. okay, fuck you too, then, you think. you didn’t really want to talk about it anymore, honestly. her saying it was a mistake was something that was so hurtful that it kinda made you have that feeling in your stomach when it feels like your heart has actually dropped down onto it. (does that even make sense? let me know)

now or never, now or never, now or never, you repeat in your head.

you take a deep breath, opening your mouth. then, you close it again. paige is staring dead at you. she’s always been good at just making eye contact with anyone and everyone, it made you kinda nervous. you weren’t bad or uneasy with eye contact normally, but with her… it was different.

“what if i wanted you to mean it, paige?” you say, looking her dead in the eyes.

she stares. all that she can is fucking stare at you. “what?” she mumbled out, quietly. “what do you mean, ‘what?’ its pretty damn clear. what if i wanted you to mean it when you kissed me? i know you were drunk, i understand that. but, what if i have been praying since it happened that you intended for that to happen and the only way you could push yourself to finally do it was when you were drunk off your ass?” you begin rambling out of frustration of her not responding with what you want her to.

you want her to admit that she wanted to kiss you. you wanted her to admit that every time she saw you, it took every fiber and atom in her body to hold back from kissing you. but, she didn’t. she stares at you in shock, eyes wide. in disbelief, even.

“what?”

a/n: sorry for the cliffhanger. anyway, part 3? 😁

[zara-renata]

Creature Feature with Sylus Qin | ao3 | lads fic masterlist

Summary: You and Sylus dress up for a Halloween gala. This is a short little Sylus series interlude, occurring after these idiots finally get together. Can be read as a standalone.

Notes: Sylus x gn reader, Sylus x mc, second person POV Established relationship This story contains: fluff, banter, two utterly infatuated fools, mentions of alcohol use, smooches

You stand in front of Sylus’s ornately framed, three-paneled mirror in his disgustingly large dressing room, turning your body this way, and then that way, admiring the silver and gold sheen of the full set of plate armor you’re wearing from every angle.

The whole thing fits you perfectly, from the greaves covering your feet with their wicked points, perfect for kicking an enemy while they’re down, to the strangely sexy cuisses encasing your strong thighs, up to the cuirass, the breastplate shining brightly under Sylus’s tasteful spotlights. The pauldrons soaring from your shoulders are huge, imposing, probably designed more for intimidation than for use, but you feel like a badass as you flex your arms. The whole suit is made from what seems to be super lightweight plates, but underneath is a form fitting, incredibly soft leather bodysuit. It fits you like a glove—like the gloves currently on your hands, underneath elaborate gauntlets with built-in brass knuckles. They don’t look brass, but you can imagine punching the living daylights out of someone with these bad boys, even so.

At the edge of each piece of armor, where one plate ends and is layered over another, the silver bleeds into gold. Intricate, savagely flowing designs are engraved into the silver from your greaves to the bevor protecting your neck, and each gleams as if carved and then filled with liquid gold. The engraving of an anatomically correct diagram of a heart, gripped by the uncanny hand of some humanoid monster with sharp claws instead of nails, shines like the sun over your own heart. You stare at the design for a while, in awe of the delicate yet vicious design of the hand, the details of the heart’s chambers, its arteries, its meat gripped by the sharp, sharp claws.

You shake yourself out of your trance and gently touch the hilt of your greatsword. The plate armor is not real; it can’t be, with how light it is. You suspect carbon fiber, or some other strong yet lightweight material that mimics the shine and strength of real metal plate, but without the weight. But this sword… it’s real. Forged from carbon steel, sharp enough to slice paper. The hilt is intricate, encrusted with rubies but not in such a way as to affect the comfort of the grip. You could kill a very large wanderer with this as your weapon, if you could lodge it at the base of its skull or through its heart. You heft the sword with both hands, swinging it through the air experimentally. It feels fucking good .

You hear Sylus’s voice drifting from outside the dressing room.

“Are you ready, darling? May I finally gaze upon your wondrous, surprising form, oh conquering knight of my heart?”

You scowl. Sylus had balked at your insistence that the two of you put on your Halloween costumes in separate rooms, so that you could surprise each other. Well, so that you could surprise Sylus at least a little bit, since he had picked both his and your costume out, while you had no idea what either looked like before he presented you with the elaborate black box, as large as a coffin, tied with a red ribbon and giant bow. The two of you had agreed to go as a dragon-slaying knight and the dragon-to-be-slayed, but you had expected to go to one of those temporary pop-up Halloween stores to get your costume before Sylus surprised you with the coffin containing this exquisite work of art. He has been making petulant, snarky comments ever since you pushed him out of the dressing room and slammed the door.

“It’s not like I am going to actually be surprised, beloved. I did design the thing, after all,” he grumbled. “I’d much rather watch you put it on.”

“Think of it as a test of patience. You like challenges, right?” You twirled your finger, as if to say turn around and go on, now, shoo.

He frowned. “It’s not fun if it means you’re far away.”

“I’m literally right in the next room,” you laughed. “Now, out!” You planted your shoulder against his back and pushed as he planted his feet and leaned back against you with equal force, refusing to budge.

The tendrils of his evol drifted from your ankles, slithering up your legs, winding around your waist—up, up, up, until they brushed against your lips in an insubstantial, shiver-inducing kiss.

“Using your evol to distract me is not going to work,” you gritted out, blowing a raspberry at the tendrils. They dissipated where your breath blew through them, but reformed almost instantly. You decided to switch tactics.

“If you concede, and allow me to put on the costume by myself, I’ll let you take it off me after we get tonight over with,” you offered as you step aside so quickly that Sylus, who was leaning so much of his weight on you that your sudden move sent him stumbling backward with a huff before catching himself gracefully—a falling cat spinning in mid-air to land on its feet. He immediately tucked one thumb into his trouser pocket, the picture of studied casualness after almost falling on his big, fat, sexy ass.

“Fine. But only if I decide which parts I get to take off… while you keep the rest on for me, until I’m satisfied,” he counter-offered, the tip of his tongue sweeping out to lick his lower lip as his eyes raked you from your toes to your eyes.

Eyes which you rolled at him. “Yes, if you’re a good boy for me right now, and get the fuck out so I can pretend that you’re stunned to see me in the whole getup.”

“I can’t believe I let you kiss me with that mouth,” he laughed softly. “Deal, but you won’t have to pretend.” He then disappeared in a whoosh of air, ink and scarlet tendrils, and a puff of feathers. You ran to the dressing room door and slammed it shut before he could change his mind.

And now here you are, dressed as a knight in shining armor. You feel like a real knight, capable of slaying the largest of predators, impervious to fire and claws. You bare your teeth in the mirror and then grin in satisfaction. This costume is so cool that it almost makes up for the fact that you have to wear it to a Halloween masquerade gala hosted by one of Sylus’s business rivals, where Sylus hopes to conduct some shady deal that you asked he not discuss with you in case things go south and you need plausible deniability regarding the aftermath. You grip the sword a little tighter. At least you’ll be armed.

You’d much rather stay at home tonight on one of his big couches in the theater room, stuffing yourself with Halloween candy (full sized candy bars, thank you very much, because your boyfriend is fucking rich and can afford to give away the good stuff), watching horror film after horror film until you’re too sleepy to keep your eyes open. You don’t care what you watch, really, as long as it’s scary. Sylus prefers the classics—films shot in black and white, filled with the golden age of cinema ingenues and actually scary looking vampires. You snort, remembering his reaction to the Twilight vampires after he agreed to watch the entire quadrilogy with you. He promptly got bored, asked if you’d like to play a drinking game with soju shots where you had to take a shot every time Bella bit her lip or Edward stared menacingly. You one-upped him, adding a shot for every time Edward acted like a red flag and every time Jasper looked like he was in pain. You were both quickly tipsy, and the rest of the movie was ignored while he argued with you about what behavior, exactly, qualifies as a red flag, until he gave up in the face of your tirade, nodded until you seemed to run out of steam, and leaned in, licking up your neck, licking into your mouth, and kissed you breathless. You never made it to the second film. 

Tonight, however, you’d just be happy watching the Alien series, or a bunch of indie horror films that you haven’t managed to watch this year. Sylus likes to lie on you, crushing you into the couch underneath him, as he rests his cheek on your stomach, insisting that you pet his hair through the whole movie. If you’re watching something scary and he senses you tensing at a particularly suspenseful part, he’ll gently lift the hem of your shirt and press soft kisses into your abdomen, nosing along your skin. If he is ever frightened by anything you watch, you’ve never been able to tell.

“Are you so desensitized to real life fear and violence that movies do nothing for you?” you asked him once.

He just stared steadily back at you, eyes glowing like fire-lit gems, until he drew you into his arms and kissed the top of your head. “Only one thing scares me, darling.” He breathed deeply. “And when you’re in my arms, I don’t need to fear it.”

You didn’t ask what scares him, and he didn’t tell.

But no. No scary movies for you tonight. No eating snickers until you could burst and tossing almond joys at him for having the audacity to include such inferior candy bars on your Halloween menu. You have to go to a fancy-ass gala full of rich criminal bastards because you love Sylus more than you hate being at large public events and the underworld in general.

You bare your teeth in the mirror again, and then yelp as a whoosh of air, black and red mist, and your beautiful boyfriend materialize at your back, scaring the shit out of you.

You gape at his reflection behind you in the mirror, feeling your heart begin to gallop. His soft silver hair is swept up and back from his high forehead, from which sprout two large … horns? Black, smooth and shiny like obsidian, spiraling up and back, ending in sharp, wicked points. His cheeks are layered with gorgeous jewel-like scales, red and black, slowly blending into the pale cream of his skin. He’s wearing a black leather collar, and a large ruby rests in the hollow of his throat. A black leather harness is strapped over his torso, but it doesn’t do much to cover him except to frame his tits in the most delicious of ways, because most of his chest and stomach is bare. The same pretty scales cover his big shoulders, the thick biceps of his arms, his pecs, his 8-million pack. He’s wearing tight black leather pants and knee high black leather boots. But the showstopper of his costume is the long tail, fully covered in those jewel-like scales, thicker the closer it gets to his ass, thinning towards the tip, which ends in a beautiful, sharp-looking blade the shape of a feather. It’s crimson, edged in black, like the rest of his costume’s color scheme. The tail flicks back and forth, like a cat’s, in a motion that seems completely organic, even though you know that’s not possible. This is just a costume, after all. Right?

“My eyes are up here, kitten,” he teases, and you have a really hard time tearing your eyes away from that swishing tail.

You try to cover your utter fascination with his tail by scoffing. “If you wanted my eyes on yours, you wouldn’t be wearing that harness with your big tits out.” You let your eyes drift to said pillow pectorals. You want to put your face in them, but you’re worried you’ll mess up the.. Make-up? Stick-ons? of the scales. They look so real.

His response is to hunch a little and then flex one pec, sending it bouncing, and then repeat on the other side. “It’s one way to ensure that your eyes are on me all night, instead of wandering,” he says smugly.

You laugh. “As if my eyes aren’t always on you, no matter how you’re dressed,” you murmur, the affection for this man swelling inside you.

“Yes, but tonight there will be lots of interesting costumes, and I know you’ll be fascinated with them, and insist on asking their owners why they chose them, and if they made them by hand or had them ordered, and they’ll be so captivated by your charming interest that I’ll have to interrupt business in order to remind them that you came with a date,” he says fondly. “You look magnificent, by the way. Just as I knew you would when I had this costume made for you.” He sounds satisfied, in the way an artisan is satisfied with his masterpiece.

You feel yourself glowing under his praise. “It’s so badass, Sylus. Thank you.” 

His tail flicks faster. You want to ask him how it works, but he distracts you. “Does the badass costume make up for the fact that I’m dragging you to a gala instead of letting you laze around, intent on giving yourself diabetes and a heart attack?”

“Candy and a scary movie do not automatically lead to diabetes and heart attacks, you big drama queen.” You turn around so you can see him in real life, and not just in the reflection. Your costume is silent as you move, unlike a real suit of armor, and so comfortable and easy to move in. It’s truly a work of functional art.

He opens his arms, and you go to him. He wraps his arms around you, despite your oversized pauldrons. He kisses the top of your head. “I know you’re disappointed though. I will make it up to you, when we get back tonight,” he murmurs.

You look up, luxuriating in the softness of his eyes, the fond smile on his beautiful, and now slightly foreign face. The scales glitter under the dressing room lights. You notice now, from this close, that he must be wearing contacts. His pupils, instead of the usual round shape like any human’s, are now slit like a cat’s or a reptile’s. You admire them for a moment—he really paid attention to the details of his slutty dragon costume, just as he cared for the details of your dragonslayer knight costume.

“Sylus,” you breathe his name. Being able to say it—to roll it around your mouth, the name of this man you love so much—is a joy for you, every single time you say it, and every time he looks at you in response. “I don’t care what we do, or where we are. Tonight, or any night. I just like being with you.”

Sylus’s tail whips back and forth so fast that it knocks over one of the dressing room benches before it wraps around your armored leg and curls round and round, the flat of that blade-like end patting your plated ass in a sharp little rhythm, like it can hardly contain itself.

“How does that thing work—” you try to ask, but suddenly Sylus’s lips are on yours, and he’s kissing you softly, slowly. One big hand drifts up the back of your neck, cups the back of your head as the other drifts along your jaw. As he licks your lower lip, he thumbs it to open your mouth—you part your lips, bare your teeth, and bite his thumb.

“My fearsome dragonslayer,” he says softly on an exhale. You close your lips around his thumb and suck, never taking your eyes off his. “We’re going to be late,” he sighs, not sounding upset at all. You just nod.

He lifts you, armor and all, and in a poof of feathers, a whoosh of air, and the dissipation of black and red mist, he transports you to his big bed, where you make each other very, very late for the Halloween gala.

[rottedghuleh]

⠀𝅄⠀ㅤׂ Ghost Papa Headcanons (Dating)!

A/N: Doing something a bit different than my usual. The month of October is all spooky month so I'll be doing maybe a "Kinktober" thing for different slashers/horror icons. Before then, I want to test some stuff in my other fandoms. I am a massive Ghost fan, have been for five years now. My favorite album is Meliora ;). Anyways, I decided to dust off my writing skills for literally the thing I have a whole corner of merch dedicated to! If this goes good, I'll do more Ghost stuff!

Themes: Fluff/NSFW/Some dark topics

Dividers credits!: @/gothdaddyissues

⛧ 𓂃 Primo!:

SFW:

⸸ I do believe Primo can be a sweetheart to his partners. His partner is his number one priority, even above the Ministry. He'd do anything to make sure that his beloved is safe and happy.

⸸ Late night cuddle sessions. He's an old fella, don't expect him to be jumping your bones every night. Some nights are just cuddling in bed together, basking in each other's warmth as Primo would read.

⸸ Acts of service. From making sure you have food, running you hot baths together, or a nice date night where he gets wine and helps clean with you as you two listen to music. Primo loves doing things for you.

⸸ His favorite places to kiss is probably your forehead and your cheek. Primo would often just tilt your head up with a finger to be able to grab a quick smooch from his beloved.

NSFW:

⸸ Since Primo is of course older, don't expect him to always want to have sex when you want or for him to have much stamina. Most nights, you'd need to run a hot bath for him to help with his aches. Aftercare is as important to him as it is for you.

⸸ Riding. Primo likes it when you ride him, being able to cup your chest and watched you ride yourself stupid on his cock. It gets him harder to be able to see you cum around him, your slick covering his lower stomach. Sometimes it even makes him just a tad bit harder.

⸸ Primo definitely knows what the hell he is doing. He knows all of the gooey spots in you to make you melt into his hands like a puddle of nerves. He's amazing with his fingers, always making sure you're wet and stretched enough to take him. Primo would rub so tenderly against those sweet spots that it would have you screaming like a whore for everyone in the Ministry to hear.

⸸ Praising you is a big favorite, letting his little love know how good they are. He makes sure to get right up in your ear with it too, to make sure you hear all of those filthy praises he has to say. He loves the way you would clench around his cock with each sweet word.

⛧ 𓂃 Secondo!:

SFW:

⸸ To start off with, Secondo is obviously a lover that makes sure his partner is completely satisfied no matter what. If you don't like an outfit you have to wear, he'll sit with you and help you pick an outfit. He'll make sure to make it known that you're absolutely stunning no matter what you wear.

⸸ Secondo would show you off. Dragging you in stage, making sure you're in photos with him, bragging about you. You're his treasure, his muse. He'll make sure it is known that you belong to him and that he belongs to you.

⸸ This one might be a little, just a tad bit controversial. I think Secondo might be a little like Nihil with Imperator. He would cheat, maybe once, then feel absolutely horrible about it when he realized how horribly it ruined you. It takes awhile to trust him again, but he will try in every way to make it up to you, going as far to make sure you're comfortable and calling when he's on tours.

⸸ A silly one to make up for the last one 😭. Secondo would have little to no discomfort with you. He gets a little to comfortable sometimes. Secondo would parade around his quarters ass naked as he got ready for Rituals.

NSFW:

⸸ I'm going to be honest, he's a a freak, absolutely down bad. The first thing he does after Rituals to calm down is bury his head between your legs and eat you out with his face paints still on. The bigger the mess, the harder he gets. He would grind against the bed until he cums during this. By the end of it, half of his makeup is on your thighs.

⸸ Secondo also likes using his hands, literally anything to please you. As I said in the SFW stuff, he will make sure you're completely satisfied. For the fem readers, two of his fingers would be knuckle deep in your slick and his pinky in your ass. Male readers, one hand would be making sure to be pumping the cum out of your cock and two fingers snug in your ass. He has to be touching, having his fingers in you.

⸸ Secondo loves anal. From using his tongue, fingers, cock, he loves your ass. That being said, doggy and reverse cowgirl is his favorite position. It drives Secondo near feral to be able to see the bounce of your ass when he fucks you. By the end of it all, your ass would be bright red and bruised.

⸸ Don't test him. Secondo is definitely a dominant man and he'll use pain to his advantage. If you brat a little too close to the sun, you'll be bent over his knee in know time with his leather gloved hand smacking roughly against your ass. He of course makes sure you're okay, making sure you're using a safe word for if it hurts too much.

⛧ 𓂃 Terzo!:

SFW:

⸸ Opposed to what many people think of Terzo, him being a horny, sassy man, I think Terzo is more of a recluse. His on stage persona is completely different compared to how he is with you. Terzo would rather spend evenings with you, drinking wine and watching Real Housewives.

⸸ Terzo has more of a taste for fashion than his brothers. He loves to match with you, hell, he even had matching outfits made for you two just because. He always is honest and trying his best to look good for you, making sure you stay up to date with trends.

⸸ Taking care of Terzo in return makes his heart melt. Even though Terzo has a huge stage presence, he usually gets increasingly anxious the closer Rituals get. It usually eats at him that he'll never be good enough, not good enough for Nihil. You have to remind him that he's a man carrying the whole Ministry on his shoulders and he's not alone. So to calm him down before shows, sitting and helping him do his makeup is usually the cure for his anxiety.

NSFW:

⸸ Terzo loves to mark you up. He can tend to get a bit possessive over you, so leaving bites in a place that's visible is one of his favorites. Terzo would bite your chest, between your thighs, about anywhere. Not hard of course, unless you ask for it.

⸸ Eating you out is a big yes. Terzo would get off by just lapping at you, sucking at your slick and spreading it more with his tongue. He'd rather be between your thighs, having them over his shoulders as he's buried nose deep against you.

⸸ A weird one, despite Terzo liking to have a clean appearance, making sure he smells nice and looks groomed. Your natural scents get him off. Your scent is enough to immediately get him rock hard, precum dripping onto the bed.

⸸ Terzo has a higher libido. Have fun dealing with that. Sometimes he would ache so god damn bad for you that sometimes he'd pull you into the nearest empty room just to fuck you. He would bend you over a desk, holding you by your waist to make sure you don't move too much as he would thrust into you.

⛧ 𓂃 Copia!:

SFW:

⸸ Copia is a big baby. That's all. If he gets hurt, it's straight to you. If you stray too far, Copia gets anxious. He likes having you, it's a safe blanket for himself. Being near you is just enough to make him so, so happy.

⸸ Copia's love language is definitely touch. Touching you always is a big yes. He'll always have a hand around you hip, on your thigh, holding your hands, anywhere on you. Sometimes if he's not sure if touching you intimately is appropriate, he'll just rest a hand on your shoulder or head.

⸸ Date nights are a must. Copia is more of an inside guy for sure. His nights are spent in sweatpants and on a couch playing video games with you. You sometimes have to go easy with him in video games because if he continually loses, he gets grumpy.

⸸ Copia's pet rats are his babies and as long you're with him, they're your babies too. Do not call them "ugly" or "filthy", most relationships are a deal breaker if you call his rats anything besides babies.

NSFW:

⸸ Another, maybe, slightly controversial one (not really.) I think Copia is a smoker, mostly because of Chapter 12 on YouTube (https://youtu.be/NJx--9-mQis?si=LyJ0tstNC6U9UekQ). Copia sometimes would smoke during sex, especially if you're just being a cock warmer for him. The warmth of the cigarette would near your face as Copia would mumbled sweet nothings as you sit pretty on his cock, letting it fill you to the brim.

⸸ Copia is self conscious of his body. He has a nice dad bod going on for him. He would sometimes only would have sex with you with clothes halfway on due to his insecurities. Copia's cock is a nice chub, on the shorter end, but thick and slightly curved. It just manages to hit you in all the right spots and sometimes your moans brings him a big ego boost that he's enough. Another silly thing, he's definitely has accidentally left his socks on during sex before.

⸸ Cumming on your face is probably one of the prettiest things to him, next to you of course. Copia does enjoy the warmth of milking his cum into you, but being able to cum on your face, chest, tummy, ass, or thighs is close to first for him. Copia would pull out despite your protests, pumping his cock in front of your face while you sit with your tongue out like an eager pup until he releases on you.

⸸ Copia is a switch, depending on how he feels that day is depending on how he is in bed. If dominant, expect gentle sex with loads of praises and soft kisses. Missionary or mating press is probably his favorite positions, to be able to kiss you or see your face as his cock grazes up against all of your favorite places. If submissive, expect tons of whinpering. Copia is a beggar, he would hold your love handles in a death grip, begging you to keep riding him (or fucking him) until he cums. He isn't usually a brat, Copia loves to be a good boy.

[batchilla]

Behold! A pinned post!

Wow. Lot of good information to come.

Why are you a batchilla?

Cursed by witch. Help. I am a simple creature powered by the 'number go up' and 'people talk to me' drive. Engaging with my work, such as Reblogging, sending asks, or replying to the post is the best way to help keep me motivated and producing words. Likes are lovely, but are on tumblr, kind of meaningless.

Requests?

No NSFW. It’ll never happen.

Open to them, but I make no promises. You can send me ideas and if I’m inspired or excited I’ll make something. If not… ask someone else or maybe try your hand at writing. Join the dark side. We have cookies.

Minors:

please read

While as of this post MY content is minor safe without intention to change that, and minors are welcome to read, send asks or requests, I respectfully ask that you don’t DM me, thank you. I will also add that I may at times Reblog NSFW content. I trust you to not read that, out of respect for me, other authors and the law. It will be clearly tagged, and I hope you enjoy reading the age appropriate parts of my blog.

Things I made

The most married divorced couple - series

Complicated - I imagine this to be this Reader characters first kiss with Jason but you could read it as a stand alone. Teen reader and Jason (they are adults in the main timeline).

Five times Robin came to your rescue... plus one time he didn't: coming soon.

Chapter one: till death do us part. Angst. Trigger warning for threats made to the life of a child.

Chapter two: four years later.

No prizes for guessing when this occurs.

Chapter three: Jason comes home.

This is a flashback to Jason's first return post divorce.

Aka I bully Jason for two pages.

Chapter four: Jason's fine. He's so calm about hearing about your dating life. He's c h i l l. Chapter five: coming soon Chapter six: coming soon

Fata Morgana

Jason Todd is a knight. You are a princess. Eventually you might smooch. However there’s a whole lot of secrets, lies, and not truely unrequited feelings to work through first. And a rather troublesome earl.

Chapter one. Chapter two. chapter three. This is an ongoing series.

You know I KNOW, right? an ongoing series.

you have a new partner in detective Grayson, and he has a secret. You know the truth, but delight in toying with him.

Chapter one: Your new partner, Grayson. Your new partner, Grayson, has a secret. But does he really think that mask is going to fool you?

Chapter two: false accusations A old partner returns. You draw your battlelines and begin the prank war. Chapter three: Coming soon. Taglist rules

I have one taglist. If you are tagged for one fic you are tagged for all of them. If you want to be on the taglist, you have to reblog my fics. Failure to do so will mean either I don't add you, or I remove you.

[tin-wufborf]

Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 2)

Hello again! Welcome to the second installment of me sharing with you a mere fraction of the too-many Sterek fics I have read and bookmarked on AO3!

Before we get to the list, I just wanted to say thank you all for liking and sharing the last post. I'm not someone who comments that often on fics (I don't do things that make me anxious, as a rule, and commenting on fics makes me unreasonably anxious), so I want to give back to these authors outside of my kudos and bookmarks. This is how I'm doing that. So thanks for noticing, and I hope you enjoy the fics! I have loved them dearly for a while now.

Alright, enough from me.

Smooches, darlings!

List and links to previous/next part(s) below the cut.

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DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19

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Aftereffects by Dira Sudis (dsudis) (G | 1/1 | 1,473)

Stiles lives with the aftereffects.

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Shadowplay by Medie (T | 1/1 | 1,576)

Since the day of his birth, the shadows have loved him.

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It's a Jeep Thing by riventhorn (T | 1/1 | 2,629)

On the day she arrived at the Stilinski home, the Sheriff stayed in the driver’s seat for twenty minutes, fingers kneading her steering wheel anxiously. He had been muttering to himself the entire way back from the lot, all variations on: Am I insane? How can I give this to him? He’s going to kill someone. He’s going to kill himself.

Stiles's Jeep's pov on werewolves, hyperactive teen boys, and Derek Hale.

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After All by Dira Sudis (dsudis) (T | 1/1 | 2,954)

Being a magical fairy-gift whose whole existence is a demonstration of the supernatural amazingness of your fathers' love story ought to be a good thing.

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Cuckoo by herlovewasajoke (T | 1/1 | 3,790)

Deaton uncovers a secret. What he does with it could destroy everything Stiles has built.

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To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar by FaeryQueen07 (E | 1/1 | 5,241)

It’s the summer before senior year and Stiles is doing just fine. Right up until he gets shitfaced and tells a room full of drag queens that he’s attracted to an alpha werewolf and that oh, yeah, he’s been wondering about whether or not they have knots. It all goes downhill from there, but in a good way.

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No place for no hero by ellievolia (M | 1/1 | 5,370)

But now, as he looks at Derek’s face, the storm lurking right underneath his eyelashes, the frown firmly back in place on his features, the Sheriff can’t help but hope that he will do something Sheriff Stilinski himself can’t do, nor ask for Derek to do. They nod at each other over Stiles’ hospital bed, and Sheriff Stilinski stands up.

Warning for graphic depiction of a mugging that degenerates into a stabbing.

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There's A Wolf-Shaped Float In This Parade by concernedlily (G | 3/3 | 7,524)

Two ways Sheriff Stilinski finds out and one he doesn't.

(Non-graphic references to past underage.)

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Your Face is Like a Melody (It Won't Leave My Head) by samshhh (T | 1/1 | 8,386)

Originally for a prompt on the kink meme:

"Since age three, Stiles has been dreaming of Derek. When he was younger, he would always babble about Derek and draw pictures of them together, etc. but everyone just assumed that Derek was his imaginary friend. Stiles himself didn't realize that Derek was a real person until he heard about the Hale fire but by that time, Derek and Laura had moved to New York. "

But it somehow mutated into a 8400 word behemoth featuring actual psychic Stiles Stilinski, soul bonding and wolfy mates.

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Solstice Alpha by Dira Sudis (dsudis) (E | 1/1 | 11,152)

The traditional Hale pack solstice party gets resurrected by the new and improved-from-ten-months-ago Hale pack.

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The Quiet Between Our Words by mytimehaspassed (M | 1/1 | 12,500)

Laura had told him that she would be right back.

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Hear No Evil, See No Evil, Speak No Evil by lemyh (T | 1/1 | 12,830)

When Stiles Stilinski signed up for his social psychology class, he wasn't sure what he expected from it. He definitely didn't expect the professor, a month in, to tell them they'd be spending the next three weeks actually living with certain handicaps.

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Hell is Other People series by tsukinofaerii (2 works | T-E | 15,937)

1. 9/10ths of the Law (T | 1/1 | 6,875) Stiles discovers the hazards of growing up a real boy when, at heart, he's not a real boy at all. 2. Something that Finds You (E | 1/1 | 9,062) Stiles always smelled like sulfur. After Derek finds out the truth, he and Stiles get closer than they'd ever planned.

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last night's dress (tiptoe out of this mess) by hito (M | 1/1 | 16,730)

Written for a prompt on the kinkmeme.

TFLN: My dad just asked me if my booty call guy that comes over at 3am and leaves at 6 would like to stay for Sunday brunch next week. You in?

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Wanderlust by Cheshyr (G | 8/8 | 18,147)

Stiles needs to move, to leave, and after graduation he has every intention to do just that. Unless his pack can convince him otherwise.

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To Build A House by theredhoodie (M | 1/1 | 19,590)

It's senior year and everything is fine. Except that it isn't, but it will be. Or that's what Stiles keeps telling himself. And there's only one person who can make sure that everything really will be fine.

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How To Be a Werewolf (And Other Extreme Sports) by gayfantasticfour (foxxing) (M | 7/7 | 23,971)

Derek decides that Stiles needs to be... trained. As much as Stiles can be trained. So Derek, with help from The Wolf Pack, teaches him how to be a werewolf without, you know, actually being a werewolf. Hijinks (of the emotional kind and otherwise) ensue.

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Culpa by ACR (M | 8/8 | 30,728)

Things for Stiles are really complicated. There’s a Harpy on the loose, his friendship with Scott is distant, and he might have feelings for Derek Hale. Oh, and also, he’s being possessed by a Demon.

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DILF by twentysomething (E | 1/1 | 30,871)

"Today is Scott's first day of kindergarten and Derek is terrified."

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The Boy and the Beast by Dira Sudis (dsudis) (M | 7/7 | 116,686)

In which events in Beacon Hills go rather differently from the start, and a Beauty and the Beast (ish) story ensues. (Scott is not a teacup and no one sings about their feelings.)

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[tavyliasin]

Villain-Fucker Angst Hours

Good timezone, darlings~ Are you ready to get all up in your feelings? No? Me neither, loves, but here we are regardless so the words are going to flow as they usually do... This is focused on Raphael from Baldur's Gate 3 and his fandom, but the latter section can easily apply to any villain fandom.

Self-Analysis of Devil-Fuckery, Or Why Do I Adore Raphael When He Is Very Obviously Evil: A Short Essay by TavyliaSin (Who Still Cannot Name Anything With Less Than A Full Paragraph) ((NSFW)) (((Game Spoilers)))

The following may discuss heavier topics, but without specifics, so whilst it should be safe for most to read without triggering any difficult memories please be aware of Raphael's entire vibes, the content and context of his story, and I'd also like to mention that this isn't a "woe be us for we are terrible people" piece, it's actually more about:

"There is an inherent kindness and warmth to much of the Raphael fandom, and I think there could be some common threads behind that, pulling us all in closer in a comforting blanket that we wrap around each other to keep out the cold of the world."

So, what in the nine hells am I on about? Well. Raphael-fandom is a wild and wonderful place to be. The rest is in sections, so feel free to skip through to what you feel is relevant to your interests. I am so prone to waffle I should open a restaurant~

Who Are Fans Of Raphael? What Do They Want?

We are feral, unhinged, all sheets to the wind "I want that devil man, carnally, and there is no force in all the planes that could stop me". There's the vanilla to the extreme and every level in between, tops, bottoms, versatiles, Doms, subs, and switches - there are a whole lot of people who would love to get their hands on either (or both) of Raphael's forms, for a simple smooch or something far more spicy~ [edited in] To add on to this, not all of us even desire him in a sexual way, for many it is romantic, soft, or even just the rather pleasant thought of spending an evening with drinks by the hellfire because he would be fascinating company. Aces, Aros, and AroAces may all find themselves well within the devilish corners of fandom too~ which is a whole other essay~ [end edit] So, I see you. I'm one of you. Extremely loud and utterly hingeless in my fan appreciation for Raphael. He's one of my favourites to write about, I seek art of him, and the same goes for his mirrored other half, Haarlep, who I arguably love more despite there being far less content of them in the game.

And the Fandom? The Vibe?

From my experience in the Raphael Fandom areas, we have a very deep and abiding understanding of consent, respect, and treating each other with an absolute and uncompromising kindness. We've had talks about keeping each other safe in fandom, exchanged details of people we have encountered who need to be avoided, even shared details between moderators of different fandom servers to pre-ban people proven to be creeps and/or art thieves. We've also discussed consent, including the issues with it in the game, and how areas of the story can only really be considered dubious at best and could easily be triggering for people. And these discussions have been open, honest, fair, and with the acknowledgement that most of us love these scenes anyway. So there's a sense of care that runs through everything, behind the horny-posting and fan content, behind the endless thirsting after our favourite fictional characters. We have a depth of kindness that warms my sinners soul every time I see it.

What Does This Have To Do With Self-Reflection, Raphael, or Villainy In General?

Well let's look at Raphael. He's a villain, obviously. He's manipulative, devious, and inherently evil by his very nature. He keeps Hope chained in his basement, constantly subjected to endless torture. There's also mention of how Gortash was sold into his service at a young age, clearly not an enjoyable experience given the other details and how things turn out (particularly as Raphael would need Gortash's own plans to fail entirely in order for him to succeed in his own and get that crown). And as fans, we accept that. We don't sit making excuses, or trying to say "well actually Gortash is a little shit and Hope probably deserve it", and we don't shy away from or conveniently ignore those darker sides of him with malicious intent to enable more evil to flourish. What I noticed, when I allowed the thoughts to continue, is that there is a theme here.

If Evil Can Be Loved Then So Can I

That's the core. Of course, darlings, I am not claiming to be a heinous monster. I certainly do not have a laundry list of crimes that would make the devil himself say "Uh, that's a bit much." But I sure as fuck treat myself like I do sometimes. You see, I think a lot of us have that tendency, to judge ourselves far more harshly than anyone else. Our patience, understanding, and forgiveness for others runs deeper than the Mariana Trench, but when it comes to our own flaws? One minor mistake and we think ourselves to be the worst beings ever to disgrace the earth. Thus, the villainy we see reflects how we are treating ourselves. So by loving and accepting all of those things that should be terrible, hated, we are actually learning that no matter how poorly we think of ourselves that we can be worthy of that same love and acceptance. We are extending the affection we are unable to show ourselves to someone we see the worst parts of ourselves amplified within. And that's why villains attract the people with the most kindness. The most forgiveness. Because it takes someone with a truly huge amount of empathy to find love for the embodiment of evil.

Or, IDK, maybe villains are just hot and we're too far down to care.

But wait, before you go!

THERE'S SOMETHING WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT.

All of this is about FICTION. We should never be accepting of the kinds of evil we see in the game irl. We do not owe anyone kindness if they do not show it to us.

What is hot in fiction is not always OK IRL.

Look after yourselves out there, remember that consent is key in all things, and please do try to learn to love yourselves, darlings, you are worthy of it and you should judge yourself by the same standard you judge others. If you are in doubt, if you are worried, if you feel afraid - reach out, talk to someone. There are many who will listen.

Treat yourself as you would treat a friend. You deserve that much.

Oh, and all Raphael fans who understand kindness are welcome around me, any hour of the day, I adore our little fandom circles and would gladly collect all of us together. I'm following a lot of you as soon as I find you, like hunting shiny pokemon~

See you in Avernus, my darling Little Mice, may we all find joy in the Cambion's Embrace~

[willowser]

haiii willow!! i was reading through your work (as i usually do when I’m on here) but i wanna know your thoughts on whether young, early 20s bkg - who currently has a thing for reader - would he feel this impending urge of sexual attraction?? i feel like at that point of time he wouldn’t be having much sex, if any at all but ofc reader is beautiful and sweet and gorgeous!! do u think he’d ever have moments where he’s ogling or he’s just back in his bedroom and all he can think are perverted thoughts and he’s like, “fuck.”

i will continue stalking ur page and reblogging so that’s all! love u🩷🩷🩷👼

oh i am smooching you smooching i say, bc i love this scenario it is my freaking bread and butter 😌✨️🩷

i think he definitely would !! not a total clueless virgin, but he's not really feeling it with anyone, and maybe hasn't for a while—if ever. and maybe he's just like, eh i've got more important things going on rn than who i'm having dinner with i hardly have time to have it with myself 🥺

bc i imagine early 20s bakugou very specifically, especially after what's going on in the manga, so i can completely see him being so sidetracked and not even interested in romance—and then you come along 🥺 and i think it would take him a while to get there, honestly, like. he's got you in the back of his mind for a whole year, even. doing his best not to think about it, but every now and then when things are quiet, his mind is wandering until he's thinking about how you wish him a stupid good morning ! every day and always make small talk with him about all kinds of random shit 😒🥺 he resists the idea that you give him butterflies and tries to tell himself you make him sick LOL

but then—something happens. something small, i think, that is such a non-event but it launches you to the forefront of everything, all at once. maybe you say something funny that makes him do his little evil smile or ask him a question and really listen to what he's saying with big beautiful eyes or you wave at him as you pass each other in the hall and kirishima is with him and then turns to him, grinning so fucking wide, and he's like "bro....why're they smiling at you like that ?? 😏😏😏" and that has bakugou thinking to himself.....oh shit........are they smiling at me like that ??? and then he's so totally gutted by the fact that—he wants you. oh man, he wants you so bad. and i've said this before but i think because he tries to fight that feeling for so long, once he finally accepts it, he's like full speed ahead. he opens that door and it's like the floodgates, the dam has broken, he's neck deep the minute he stepped over.

and i really think bakugou's attraction to someone—like his deep, genuine, heart-achy kind of attraction to someone—is based on who you are, and so the more time he spends with you and the more he thinks about you and the more he gets to know you, it just builds and builds and builds LOL and then that sexual attraction comes bull-dozing in, i think. and i love to talk about this but he thinks he's so not a meat-head that thinks with his dick but he definitely catches himself checking you out and is SO MAD LMAOOO

he's also such a—make a plan, make it happen kind of person, so once he decides he can't stand doing nothing, he's trying to figure out how to make you his. and in trying to plan that out, he's going through scenario after scenario, thinking about what differently he could do when he sees you and how you'll respond, imagining it late at night, dreaming about what you'd say and what you'd do.....what that would lead to, eventually AND HE FEELS LIKE SUCH A PERV LMAOOO he's such a dork

god i literally could go on and on about this forever you don't understand akdhfjskkq this is one of my favorite scenarios for him it's just my default thinking state this point LOL hiiiii friend !!! tysm for asking !!! 😌🩷✨️

[chernabogs]

Hi Ames 👀🫶

First, giving you smooches as congrats for your 100 follower milestone :3💖

I saw your prompt list and I was like ANGST POTENTIAL with all the prompt lines, but I picked some out with a more fluff mood in mind~

May I please request a Leona Kingscholar x gn!reader fluff read where there’s a storm on Sage Island and Leona’s been helping reader with their homework at Ramshackle but he can’t go back to his dorm bc of the storm

So he has to stay in Ramshackle over night with reader ehehehe

Here are the prompt lines I picked out:

- “The storm’s getting worse”

- “You look better in my clothes than I do”

- “You snore in your sleep. It’s adorable”

- “Sorry to put you through that. I guess I owe you one now”

Take ur time and if you can’t do mine, no worries :)

TYYYYY <3 <3 I love some good Leona content... I wrote him once but I'm ready to go again LKNAJF

Lights Out

Inc: Leona x Reader (GN), Ruggie (briefly) Warning: None! Not really romantic, but like... semi vibes. Sneaky vibes. If you squint you see them. WC: 2.6k Summary: An agreement to help you study leads to an unexpected situation when the weather turns sour

The weather had been kind for the entire week, and so Leona should have assumed by default that it was all a ruse. He had agreed (under some pressure from both your dire expression and Ruggies repetitive pestering) to assist you with your ancient curse’s homework—which really means he’s going to sit there and watch you while only offering a few scraps of information. He can’t make it too easy for you, no? 

The sky had been cloud free—as blue as a robin's egg, with the softest of breezes dancing across campus as the early spring began to wake from her slumber. He had spent a good portion of the day dealing with his classes and dozing in between after having sent you a brief reassurance that he’d still come in the evening. It was beautiful—glorious, even—until 6 o’clock hit. 

Then, like hell from above, a mass of storm clouds rolled in out of nowhere. The school alert system cited it as an unprecedented phenomenon, and as Leona glares out the window at the torrential downpour beyond, he wonders just how much of it is the fault of Diasomnia’s House warden. It feels like even the slightest of moods sends the man bringing down hail and fury with little regard. His tail twitches in irritation as he lets out another low sigh. 

“What’s the curse that turned that emperor into an animal again?” Your voice causes him to glance at your reflection in the window. He can see that you’re still hunched over the ancient curse’s textbook, your brow set in a furrow as your pen taps steadily against the kitchen table’s surface. “He had to go through a whole life-lesson thing to undo it…”

“He undid it with a counter-poison.” Leona hums as another flash of lightning splits across the sky, briefly brightening the room you’re both in before dying down once more. “He coulda stayed the same and still be able to change back.”

“That defeats the purpose, no?” He hears you setting your pen down and leaning back in your chair as he continues to alternate his gaze between you and the storm above. “If there was a purpose to begin with…” 

“The purpose was his death.” He turns away from the window and finally sinks back down in the seat across from you, his eyes closing and his head tilting back. “His advisor wanted him dead, so she figured cursing him would be a way to do it. Curses like that have been around since magic was still taboo.” 

“Yikes.” Your eloquent reply causes him to scoff as he listens to the sounds of the rain hitting Ramshackle's walls. Despite renovations being done, the acoustics of your dorm are still off-kilter, making him constantly pick up sounds that he shouldn’t be able to hear. 

The scratching of your pen accompanies the rainstorm, and then soon stops as he hears you shuffling around. “... the storm’s getting worse.” 

At that, he does open his eyes again, looking to the window with a frown. It’s pitch black outside, but he can see the relentless onslaught of rain against the windows glass. He pulls out his phone and turns it on; there are two missed messages from Ruggie, a slew of them from the group he has with the other House-wardens—he admits he is curious how many others are questioning Draconia—, and then one from his brother that he deliberately swipes away. 

“Seems like it won’t be letting up tonight.” Leona’s frown deepens as he reads Ruggie's messages. It’s a system that will be hovering over the entire island until mid-morning tomorrow. All students are being advised to shelter in place until it passes. “Shit…” 

“What?” You look up at him, your eyebrows raised. He sets his phone back down and fixes you with an unimpressed look. 

“The school put out a shelter in place notice until the storm ends—no students to leave the place that they’re at right now.” At those words, the lights in the room flicker for a moment before going out entirely, leaving the both of you sitting in complete darkness. 

Leona can still see fine, and he watches (with some amusement) how your eyes go wide in surprise and your breath catches in your throat. 

“Did something hit a line?” You’re quick to rise and peer out the window. Most of the dorms rely on magic to power their electric devices, such as with Ignihyde, but Ramshackle is old enough to still run on original lines. His lips twist into a frown as he remains seated while you gawk out the window in interest. 

“If it did, then there’s no use stressin’. It’ll be restored whenever someone gets around to it—after the storm.”

He personally doesn’t mind sitting in the dark. Granted, Ramshackle still is an ominous dorm to be in—with its ghost infestation and such—but there’s also a sense of peace present that can very easily let him drift off to a nap. If he needs to be on lock down in this place, he doubt’s it’ll bother him too much. 

That is if you let him sleep in the first place.

“I mean I guess we can just light some candles and stick it out?” You look back at him as another flash of lightning breaks across the sky, illuminating your form only briefly. He can still see your eyes are wide in surprise, and your breath is quick—either from the shock of the lights going out, or a fear of the storm toiling outside. 

He checks his phone again and notes that you’ve been going at it for nearly four hours now. He’s never had to pull an all-nighter for a test—lessons come easily to him without effort, after all—and a part of him wonders if that’s what your intent is. If so, he certainly won’t be staying up alongside you. 

“You do that. I’m gonna stake out that couch over there.” He scoffs as he undoes his vest. It won’t be the most comfortable to sleep in uniform, but it’s not like he packed an overnight bag in preparation for your study session. He finishes unbuttoning the vest and stands, stretching upwards for a moment before letting out another sigh. “Try not to drive yourself nuts shoving all this information in there.” 

“Grims lucky he went to Heartslabyul tonight…” you mumble. He watches as you go to the nearby closet to pull out some candles before he maneuvers himself around to lie back on the foyer couch. He can hear you bumping into tables and chairs as you navigate in the darkness before finally the faint, flickering glow of a candle being lit tells him you’ve survived in one piece. His eyes close and he lets himself fall into a state of comfort as he listens to the sounds of papers turning and pens scratching. 

…

But he can’t fall asleep. 

This is both inconvenient and unusual for him. It becomes apparent that, with the power getting knocked out, the furnace in Ramshackle has also broken down, leaving the dorm to gradually become colder and colder with each passing moment. He opens one eye to glare at the ceiling above as he can feel goosebumps rising on his arm. 

“D’you have a spare blanket or something?” He finally asks, sitting up to peer at you from over the edge of the couch. You glance his way, your face bathed in candlelight, before you hum. 

“Mmm, not one that doesn’t smell like mold, no…” you reply slowly. Leona’s expression sours at your comment as you set your pen down and stand up. “One second... I think I have something that might work.” 

As you pick up a candle and vanish to the upper floors of the dorm, he lies back on the couch to stare at the ceiling above. The remaining candles cast odd shadows about the room, and the slow ticking of a nearby grandfather clock proves to be both soothing and anxiety-inducing as the seconds pass by. His tail twitches once more as he listens to the sounds of creaking footsteps coming back down to the foyer. 

“Here.” He feels something soft hit his stomach and he grabs it by reflex. It’s a black hoodie—almost his size. “I won it at one of the school festivals. I don’t wear it often, so it’s clean.” 

Leona stares at it for a long moment. The front has an image of the NRC mascot drawn in a cartoon form while holding the set of keys he often sees on the headmaster’s hip. It feels like something he’d expect Idia to keep stashed in a closet, not you. 

Still, it’s something warm, and with some small grumbles of protest, he pulls it on and tightens the drawstrings. He’s sitting upright on the couch and glaring at the wall when he hears you chuckle to his right. One sharp glance, and he can see you watching him with a cheeky grin from the table, your ancient curses homework still strewn about. 

“You know, you look better in that than I do. All that’s needed is some holes for your ears in the hood, and then you’re golden.” 

“Keep talking.” He threatens in a deadpanned tone, earning a laugh from you as you look back to your homework. You know that he’ll never actually do anything to you—after all, by getting him to agree to come to your dorm in the first place, you already know you’ve won him over to some extent. 

He watches you from over the edge of the couch for a moment longer. The furrow in your brow, the way you tap the pen against your paper in a rhythm, the way you occasionally bite your lip while in thought. He seriously wonders why he agreed to come and help you in the first place. It isn’t like he enjoys school, and he’s certainly never considered helping someone with their schoolwork before. He wants to say it was solely Ruggie’s off-handed comments and deliberate looks, but he can’t shake the image of your distressed expression out of his mind when you asked him. 

Pity. It’s definitely out of pity that he’s shown up tonight. Ruggie just added fuel to the fire, that’s all.

But still, he can’t shake the sense of unease that stirs in his chest as he watches you for a moment longer before lying back down, his hand coming to rest on his abdomen as he did. The hoodie smells vaguely of you, and it does little to alleviate this feeling. He watches the shadows dance across the ceiling and listens to the sound of you working for a moment longer before he finally finds his eyes closing once more. 

It takes him a while, but eventually he falls into the shadows of an uneasy slumber. 

—---

When he opens his eyes, he’s greeted to the sound of a dove cooing. At first his mind doesn’t register where he is, and he feels a sharp sense of adrenaline rushing when he doesn’t see the familiar ceiling of his dorm room above him. Then the memories of last night come back—the power going out, the candles, your off-handed comment about him wearing your clothes—and he feels himself relaxing once more. 

“You snore in your sleep, you know.” 

Leona’s attention snaps to where you sit in the chair across from him. You’re nursing a hot cup of something in your hands as you watch him with a tired smirk. You pulled an all-nighter—he can tell by the slight bloodshot tint in your eyes. “Don’t worry. It’s kind of adorable.” 

“Adorable?” His brow furrows as he sits up, stretching forward and looking towards the nearest window. The sky above is a splash of pink and orange with the coming dawn. He can see the very same dove that he heard sitting on the windowsill, peering in with its beady eyes at the oddly domestic image of you both. “Don’t go annoying me with those kinds of comments so early in the morning.” 

“Sorry. I’ll be sure to reserve my next compliment for the afternoon.” Another cheeky little grin plays on your lips, and he tries to ignore how the sight of it makes that uneasy feeling return. He averts his gaze once more as he shifts to rise from the couch. He’s still wearing your hoodie. 

It feels nice. 

“Did you sleep at all last night?” After he composes himself and becomes fully aware of reality again, he glances at you once more. You sigh and lower your mug with a frown.

“I mean, somewhat? I dozed off at the table a few times, but I was working on getting through four units of text before the afternoon class.” 

“And did you?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. “Get through the four units, I mean.”��

“Three. Best I can do.” You chuckle in turn. 

“Which unit did you miss?” 

Your expression becomes one of thought before your eyes light up again. “I couldn’t get to the unit about impacts of curses on modern law. I tried to start it, but as soon as the court transcripts started popping up, my mind just completely tapped out. Legalese is not my strong suit.” 

Leona chuckles slightly at that. He doubts legalese is anyone’s strong suit, save for Azul, who uses it in contracts, or Riddle, who just uses it in general. “And your test for this is…?” 

“This afternoon.” You sigh. “I’ll just take the loss. I’m sure Ace, Deuce, and Grim will be sinking with me, at least.” 

He ruminates on your words for a moment. There’s no denying that you worked your ass off to try and learn as much about ancient curses as possible. He saw the three notebooks of notes that you were skimming through, and the fact that you’re sitting here looking dead on the couch makes that small spark of something start up again. 

Pity. It’s pity, he tells himself. 

“You look pathetic.” He grumbles as he stretches his back. “Tell you what. Lemme get back to Savanaclaw, now that the freak storm is done, and I’ll loan you my notes for that unit. Loan.” 

He emphasizes the last word with a pointed look. Despite how hard you’ve worked so far, he can’t make it too easy for you, no? Your eyes widen again in that comically surprised expression. 

“Oh, you don’t have to—” you begin, but he silences your words with another sharp glance. A small, grateful look then replaces the one of surprise as you sink back into the seat. “... sorry to put you through that, then. I guess I owe you one now.” 

“Well, I’m not gonna hold it over you like some people might.” He sighs. “But I’ll be keeping this sweater for now. I’m not looking to freeze to death before I reach the mirror chamber from here.” 

You nod quickly. “Yeah! Please. Just give it back whenever. Or don’t, you know. I don’t mind.” 

Your words falter awkwardly, and he can’t keep his lips from curling upwards a bit in amusement. “Right. Meet me back at the mirror chamber in thirty, then—and don’t make me wait, herbivore. I have things to do today.” 

Things being spelldrive practice—but he has a feeling you already know that. You grant him a sunny smile, which makes his chest ache once more, before offering a grateful wave. “Sure! Thanks again, Leona.” 

He ignores the way you saying his name gets to him as he shrugs dismissively before moving to the front door. “Don’t mention it. Seriously.” 

[anemptypuddingcup]

Hii I know this is not spooky. But can I request an opla usopp anything. I’m down for whatever but one idea can be that him and reader are at a hot springs maybe idk😭

We needed this.

OPLA!Usopp x Female Reader.

Smut short.

I am so sorry I had gotten carried away, if you didn’t want smut I can absolutely rewrite this entire thing and make it fluffy- happy reading-

Contains: More of the live-action Usopp’s personality rather than the anime’s. The crew stopping by a little hot spring island. Reader & Usopp discovering the hot springs. Usopp persuading Reader to go in with him before everyone else. Usopp & Reader getting a bit touchy. Fingering. Hand job. Mutual masturbation in the hot springs. Smooches! Smooches everywhere!

“Oi! Island up ‘head y’all!”

Luffy yells out to the crew as the ship sailed over closer to the island. Everyone was already mentally prepared for the trouble Luffy was going to cause, but you couldn’t help but to sigh and hope that things won’t go SO terrible to the point where you’d have to leave island before discovering much.

Usopp peeks at you in the distance and smiles sweetly, a loving sigh leaving his lips as he slowly swayed over to you. “Ahhh, well? You ready for another adventure where our captain may or may not get us killed?” Usopp asked jokingly, peeking his eyes at you and giving you a snarky smirk. You sighs before chuckle to him, with him taking your hand and rubbing it softly. “Ready as I’ll ever be Usopp…” You sighed, a little giggle leaving you.

Once the shipped had finally docked, the whole crew rushed off of merry, immediately investigating and looking around for clues and if not that somewhere to rest. Of course Usopp had paired up with you, telling you his little jokes and stories the whole while you and him searched around, it was rather enjoyable to listen to him.

It wasn’t until you stumble upon steam flowing up in the sky that you began to ponder at what it may be. “Usopp- Usopp look.” You pull on Usopp’s jumper strap and pull him close to you, pointing off to the smoke in the distance. Usopp gulps before looking to your nervously. “You don’t think that’s something bad…do you..?” He asked you, his eyes glancing over you before looking back at the smoke.

“Only one way to find out!” You smiled, pulling him along with you.

“Oh no…” He sighed, slowly following behind you with his palm to his face.

Upon closer inspection, it was a hot spring and you couldn’t have been more ecstatic to just jump in and relax in the hot steaming water. “We should tell the others we found it-“ You say, looking to Usopp who stood there staring down at the water. “Or…we could just go on and get in first and tell them later…” Usopp says, smiling mischievously to you. “Usopp doesn’t that seem unfair to everyone else?” You asked, quirking a brow to him. He chuckles as he begins to slide his shoes off followed by pulling his jumper straps.

“Who said anything about it being fair..?”

…

You stayed turned away from Usopp as he peeled all of his clothes off before slowly stepping into the hot springs, a heavy sigh leaving his lips as he slowly sank inside of the hot water. “Come on, aren’t you gonna get in?” He asked, tilting his head to you. You shook your head and just sat there, watching as Usopp pulled half of his body out of the water.

“Aw don’t be shy now. You’re acting like I haven’t seen your body before baby.” Usopp chuckles, pressing his hands against the warm rocky surface below to pull his body up. You rolled your eyes and begin pulling your clothes off, a smirk appearing across Usopp’s face as he watched you undress. You turn to him and frowned, watching as he held his hands out. “Come onnn, the water’s fine baby~ In fact it’s so warm and relaxing~” He smirked, a little chuckle leaving him.

You sighed before grabbing his hands, holding you steady as he helped you walk into the warm water. You let out a breathy sigh as you sunk your body into the water, letting out a relieving groan as you felt the ache lift right off your bones. “See? Feel good doesn’t it? And it’s just us…all alone…” Usopp sighs, seating himself beside you while you sat there quietly.

There was an awkward silence before Usopp breaks it with a touch to your thigh, making you jolt and yelp out. A chuckle leaves him as his hand gropes the fat of your thigh, making groan out a bit as he moves in closer to you. “Usopp…” You call out to him softly and he quirks a brow before giggling. “What’s wrong? It’s only a bit of touching~” He teased, laying his head against your shoulder.

“We haven’t done this in a while…it’s nice to finally have some time to…ourselves…you know?” Usopp whispers to you pressing a smooch to your jawline. You mewl out before wrapping your arms around him, holding him as you relaxed your body against him. “Yeah…it’s been too long baby…” You say softly, nuzzling up against his neck. You feel his rough hands grab on to your hips, pulling you closer to him and onto his lap before he pressed his lips against yours.

You moan and huff into his lips, a gasp leaving you as you felt his hand slide up to your bare pussy. You shudder as you his thumb circle your clit, a moan leaving you as you slowly begin to grind your hips up against his hand. “Needy aren’t you?” He whispers to you before giggling, pressing another smooch to your soft glossy lips. “Miss you Usopp…Missed this so much~” You huff out, your arms wrapping around his body and beneath his arm.

You feel Usopp tease your entrance before pushing his digits past your folds and slipping into your warm cunt. Your warm gummy walls enveloped his fingers and you mewl out as you felt his fingertips immediately push against your sweet spot. Your toes curl beneath the warm water, a soft gasp leaving you as he begins to slowly thrust his fingers inside of you.

“Usopp~ T-That feel so good~” You moan out, lifting your hips up a bit higher so he could reach farther inside of you. You wrap your arms around his neck, the water spilling off of your arms and onto his dry and bare skin, making him hiss out before he shivers. He continues to thrust his fingers slowly yet softly inside of your pussy, your walls squeezing tight around his digits and making him grow hard.

“Fuck…You keep moaning like that, it’s making me hard baby…” Usopp says shakily, his eyes half-lidded and looking up into yours. “Ah~ I can’t help it when you’re making me feel so good Usopp~” You smile softly before gasping out, setting your body back into the water and onto Usopp’s lap. You slowly trail your hand along his shaft, your soft touch making him gasp out shakily.

“Keep focusing Usopp…Just keep focusing on pleasuring me…” You whisper to him, moving in closer to his adorable face. He nods and moans out, his hand continuing to focus on your cunt while enjoying the soft feeling of your hand stroking his length. He huffs out and pulls you in closer, your soaking body practically pressing up against his. “F-Faster~ Faster baby~” He gasps out, his brows furrowing before a groan leaves him.

You obey and stroke his shaft a bit faster, another sudden moan spilling from his lips as he begins to try and buck his hips up into your hand. With your soft hand stroking his length and playing at his tip, his hand grew more fervent as he thrusted his fingers faster into your pussy. You moan o ur and your hand stuttered as you felt yourself growing closer to your orgasm.

“Ah~ M-Mmgh!~ Baby- Baby! I’m about to-“

“You’re gonna cum aren’t you?“ Usopp hums, pressing a smooch to your neck as you felt his fingers curl up inside of you. You jolt and moan out in pleasure, your hand stroking his shaft so fast from the pleasure of his fingers inside of you. He moans out even more and begins to fucking your fist, biting his bottom lip as he felt himself growing close as well.

“U-Usopp!~ I-I’m cumming!~” You gasp out, arching your back as your walls flutters around his digits. Usopp mewls out and keeps your body close to his, peering down at you stroking his cock beneath the pretty crystal waters. You huff out heavily and gasp before rolling your hips, your pussy finally creaming on his fingers and causing you to moan out angelically yet loudly against him.

Usopp smiles before he lets out a loud groan, his cock twitching in your hand before he finally releases. His cock begins to spurt his cum out into the water, the thick sperm floating around in the water while you giggled at him. He lies back and sighs out heavily, satisfied that he finally got to relax and release his stress from the recent adventures both you and him have had together.

You press your lips against his and he mewls out into the kiss before wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you close. You sigh out and cup his face with your soaking hands, your fingertips practically pruned from how long the were soaking and going back and forth into the water. “Miss you Usopp, felt so good~” You whispers out to him softly, laying your head against his shoulder.

He smiles and smooches at your soft skin, sighing out lovingly as the warmth of the hot springs soothed you both. “Let’s stay here for a while…” Usopp whispers to you. You peer up at him before blinking blankly, thinking to yourself. “What about the others…?” You asked him. Usopp smiles and gives you a soft look in the eyes.

“They’ll find us eventually…”

[ushys]

Hiiiii!✨️

Could I request a Floyd with a S/o who's one of their og fans? Like- the reader is such a big fan that they'll do covers of older brozone songs and some of Floyd's newer work at their own concerts sometimes.

The reader is singing their heart out and Floyd is in the crowd like "Wait a minute- I RECOGNIZE THAT SONG-" and after the show he starts fangirling with his s/o bc they actually like his music.

(Bonus points if he gives them a lil smooch at the end-)

TYSM!✨️

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐆 𝐅𝐀𝐍 𝐆𝐍! 𝐒/𝐎

AN: OMLL THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA 😭💕 this is a big bonus for me since i am a floyd (and branch) stan myself so this is a win win

content: fluff, floyd being a cutie, gn! reader (they/them pronouns used), singer! reader, head cannons with a little one shot at the end, not proof read so sorry for any mistakes (might recheck later!

- you considered yourself to be a die hard fan of brozone like if anyone were to ask you anything about any member, you could have an answer in a blink of an eye

- you were the so proclaimed "#1 floyd stan" however, having tons of merch and knowing interesting facts about him

- i mean, how could you not stand him? he was the cutest member in your eyes

- "oh yeah i'm def going to get with floyd, he's literally the same age as me hello? he wants me so bad." - you | "[Y/N], you're delusional. be for real." - your friend

- whenever you had money saved up, you would always use it to go to their concerts

- yeah people called you irresponsible with your money but who cares? all you needed was to see them again!

- floyd and the rest of the group basically inspired you to start singing as well!

- you never admitted it, but your music was heavily inspired by brozone so that’s kinda how it got the attention of your favorite member!

- being a star wasn’t easy, but it was definitely worth it seeing people’s faces light up every time you would sing or just having fans who loved you in general

- one of those fans being floyd (👀)

- that’s basically how you guys met

- he got special permission to go back stage and you almost fainted seeing him this close to you and ACTUALLY talking to YOU!

- a few months after that, you guys started dating and you couldn’t be any happier (beat that, *friend*)

- he was literally the best boyfriend ever

- he always has a gift ready for you and treats you so preciously

- goes all out on special occasions like your birthday, anniversary, etc

- he found your whole floyd collection of merch, cds, posters in your room and he likes to bring it up any chance he gets

- “remember that collection i foun-” “anyways.”

- he was always your #1 supporter and always at your concerts

- once, you decided to do a little something special at your concert

You just finished your last song and the crowd erupted with cheers and screams. Everyone thought that your show was over when they saw you walk out, waving and blowing kisses towards everyone until someone on the speaker came on. “Give it up one more time for [Y/N]! Don’t leave yet though! They have prepared one last thing for you!”

You suddenly come out with a completely different outfit, and everyone in the crowd started cheering again. Floyd, being one of the people in the front, was simply admiring the beauty in front of him, taking polaroid pictures of you that he would definitely add into your shared scrapbook.

You grabbed the microphone and moved it up so it would be at your mouth level. “I just want to say thank you for all the love and appreciation you guys have given me these past few months. It means to w world to me. Now, I’m going to be dedicating these three songs to the most special person in my life.”

You smile, as you make eye contact with your lover, who wipes a tear away from his eye and gives you a warm smile in return.

The music starts playing and you tap your foot to the beat. Floyd furrowed his eyebrows and nodded his head to the beat, getting a familiar vibe from it. ‘This sounds so familiar, but I can’t put my finger on what it reminds me of’ he thinks to himself.

You then start singing, letting the melody take over and losing yourself in the music. It finally clicked. “Wait! I RECOGNIZE THAT SONG! THEY’RE SINGING MY SONG!” He yells out, “fangirling” by jumping up and down realizing that you covered one of his songs.

When the song ended, the crowd started cheering for more, which you gladly obliged and started singing old brozone songs, to which people were freaking out with excitement. Their favorite artist singing songs from their favorite band? Oh yeah, that’s perfection. You can’t even phantom how much happiness Floyd was filled with.

After the concert, you met up with your boyfriend backstage and he came running to you with his arms wide open, his eyes closed, and with a big smile on his face. “[Y/N]! You did so good out there, my love! I really enjoyed the songs that you chose, it really warmed my heart." He wrapped his arms around you and spun you around. “Thank you, babe! I’m glad you liked it, all I had in my mind during those songs were you.” You say, as you softly put your hands on his face, admiring his features.

He give you a big dorky smile and a big loving kiss on your cheek and then on your lips. “I love you so much, *nickname*”

“And I love you more.”

note: omg guys the floyd brainrot is getting out of control i wanna throw him around like a ping pong ball he’s so cute 😮‍💨 also hopefully you liked this and enjoyed it !!

@USHYS content - Do Not Copy.

[tswwwit]

(sorry, this got way long, and maybe a little sappy, but i didn't want to spam with multiple asks)

so i just finished reading the most recent chapter of the cultist reincarnation au, and i love it so so much.

my personal fave part is bills little rivalry with the mini bill plush. bill waited for so long to see his husband again, and this little plush is getting all of the affection bill wants, i love it. i hope dipper keeps it around after getting all his memories back, because it is a wonderful way to tease bill. just 'fine, i'll just go hug and kiss my new, better husband!' said as dipper walks off with mini bill just to annoy bill.

after reading that chapter i started rereading the entire familiar au (or like 95% of everything that was written for it including snippits, pov changes, and multipart stories, thanks to weirdeggi's masterpost) and its so so fun and interesting seeing bill go from a demonic jackass who barely tolerates his human, to seeing him put so much time, care, and patience into making sure the cultist reincarnation of dipper feels comfortable and relaxed around him. while seeing dipper go from timid and ignorant in the beginning to confident and knowledgeable with the ability to handle all of bills tricks easily.

it's just all so good and you write the characters so so well, i love them so much. i love seeing how much they've grown and drove each other insane/sane. the world building is so well done, especially with how the magic works and affects things. i've read these stories so many times over the years and as they come out, and each new one is always a delight. no pressure on you to rush of course, please take your time, but know that any new fic or chapter you post has at least one person eager to read and enjoy it.

(the rest of this is just going to be fun questions that popped up while rereading, no pressure on answering them, i just thought of them while reading and thought they'd be fun to ask and share)

I am curious about how bill views or thinks about his 'sickness' after the events of confessing it, and if that's different from several reincarnations later. cause i know in the bill v bill fic the other bill still calls it a sickness, and while i know our bill is happy as hell, i do wonder if he still thinks its a sickness or a curse, even if its the best thing to ever happen to him.

i'd also be interested to know if dipper ever makes friends with any demons, cause like i know in confessing it he meets pyronica and she reminds him of mabel, and he kinda got along with the spider centaur demon, but it would be neat to know if he ever makes actual friends with any demons, and if those friendships 1) make bill jealous 2) last over several reincarnations

speaking of the reincarnation, i'm curious when in their relationship that those two put that plan into action. like if it was still early into their relationship or if it was as dipper got older and his days got more numbered. i know bill thinks of it kind of early on while they're together, but that doesn't mean it's put into action right away.

it would be neat to see how all bills henchmen eventually see the whole bond too. i know in confessing it they see bill acting all weird with dipper, and how much his human affects bills mood, so im sure they know its better to have him around even if for a little while. but its fun to think that later down the line when the reincarnations pop up its viewed more as 'vacation time' when the henchmen don't have to take over reality and can relax while bills off smooching his mortal.

Thanks so much; I'm really glad you've enjoyed the fic! If it's been half as fun to read as it's been to write I'll have accomplished a ton.

Okay, onto the questions:

1: Bill likely still considers it a sort of sickness/curse, but like. Not a bad one, necessarily. While his relationship is way weird for a demon, that's actually great! He's the master of weirdness! If it weirds out other beings or confuses the hell out of them, that's proof that he's the best in the biz, baby. And he's very, very happy.

2: Dipper probably does make some demon friends/acquaintances. It's only natural after multiple lifetimes running in the same circles with eternal beings. Given a friendship in one lifetime, it's likely the demons' assumption that they'll just pick back up where they left off! Neat new body, how's it suiting you? (The familiarity weirds out Dipper incarnations until they get their memories back.)

I don't think Bill's jealous of them, though. Hanging out with buddies doesn't register as 'competition' for Dipper's affections, in the same way that Dipper's not jealous of the henchmaniacs.

3: I haven't decided exactly when they settle on the reincarnation thing, but likely it's after a near-death experience. Maybe even post-whump!

4: Speaking of those henchmen! They're eventually gonna get used to Bill being hitched. Not like they have a choice in the matter; Dipper's not going anywhere.

The new status quo is pretty weird, but they knew what they were getting into in regards to 'weird' - and frankly, Bill's in a vastly better mood whenever his husband's home. Something that puts the Boss in a cheerful Fun Times Interdimensional Crimes Party mood? When he gets pissy there's a human who deals with it, rather than Bill lashing out and picking on whoever's closest? Absolutely! They're all for it! Once those Big Upsides become apparent, they're gonna be pleased to see Dipper hanging around.

[youling-the-ghost]

sfth incorrect quotes pt.6 because somehow I'm the most productive in the middle of the night (the generator)

Tom: Why is there blood everywhere?

Luke: I may have aggressively poked someone with a knife. Tom: You stabbed someone?! Luke: No, no. I aggressively poked someone with a knife. AJ: Hey, what are you reading? Sam: This is my magic book where any ink spilled shows a scripture of the future, however it bears a curse making it broken, and as such in order to make any scripture appears, I have to do it myself. AJ: Impressive! I must have it for myself! Tom: So it’s just a Notebook? Sam: It’s just a Notebook. Tom: I’ve become a bread crumb dealer to four crows at the lake. They pay me with a bit of everything. Like shiny things, fabric, or pens. But recently they paid me with a 20 dollar bill they found somewhere. So I decided to buy them some more expensive bread. They loved it. So they understand what to do. Give me money. I’ve probably racked up about 200 dollars at this point. Is it morally wrong though, I mean. They’re the ones who steal the money from others. Or perhaps they just have a big pile laying somewhere. Should I keep on doing this? Luke: You sound like the start of a Batman villain.

Tom: I'm going to take a shower, I'll be right back. Luke: Why are you telling me this, I don't care. Luke, right after Tom leaves the room: I miss him already. Luke: Assert your dominance over your friends by kicking them in the face, and then giving them a little smooch on the forehead! Luke: You don't think I can fight because of my height! Sam: I don't think you can fight because you're in a wedding dress. For what it's worth, I don't think Tom can fight in that dress either. Tom: Perhaps not. But I would make a radiant bride. Tom: Why are you late? Sam: A technical error occurred, causing an unexpectedly long bout of unconsciousness. Tom: Overslept? Sam: Overslept. Tom: Is anyone going to tell me what's going on in here?! AJ: It's kind of complicated, but Sam and Luke- Tom: Got it. Forget I asked. Sam: Luke is a perfect cinnamon scone who’s never done anything wrong in his entire life! Tom: Never done anything wrong?! He set a city block on FIRE!

AJ: What's the signal when something goes wrong? Sam: We yell, "oh shit." Tom: ...That'll work. Luke: I bet you can’t make a sentence without the letter "A"! Tom: You thought you just did something there, didn’t you? Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but numerous sentences could be constructed without employing the first letter of the English lexicon. AJ: Fuck you. Sam: I’m totally useless. Tom: You’re not totally useless. Tom: You can be used as a bad example. AJ: When do you usually go to sleep? Luke: Whenever I collapse is entirely up to the gods. Tom: Is… Is that meant to be on fire? Luke: No… not really. Tom: Are you going to do something about it? Luke: Hm… nah. Tom: Luke learned how to fold origami penguins from Sam the other day. I told him, "I feel a little bad for the penguins, it’s hot here." And the next day he put them in the fridge. Sam: I just found out that humans are capable of fitting a light bulb into their mouth with ease but can’t take it out without shattering it, and now I have to physically restrain myself from putting a light bulb in my mouth. Sam, barging in: Syphilis! AJ: Sam: AJ: Pardon? Luke, carrying a box: What would you say if- if I, hypothetically, came home with 7 kittens one day? Tom: ... Tom: What’s in the box? Luke: What woul- Tom: Luke, what’s in the box? Luke: I think you know. Sam: Today at 7 am, Tom poured a Monster energy drink in his coffee, said "I'm going to die" and drank the whole thing. Luke: I watched Tom brew his coffee with Monster instead of water. Three cups in two hours. I think he ascended into the astral realm. AJ: The survivability of the human race never fails to amaze me.