#im sorry im delirious

[yuuverseyuuverse]

I should start a 30 day Kaeya drawing challenge. Maybe it'll encourage me to actually draw.

[theokusgallery]

Do you think nick would call Sun "Mon p'tit pd <3" (JKJKJK IT'S A JOKE)

[deimosatellite]

bsd tumblr listen to me. steinbeck/fyodor power couple

[rewritingcanon]

ginny to harry: we cant leave the boys in their room with the door closed!! dont u know what that means!?! dont you see how eerily quiet they are?? its a silencing spell, harry!

harry: im sure theyre just sleeping or something.

ginny: yeah sleeping TOGETHER im sure

- meanwhile -

albus after playing his weezer music at scorp for 40 minutes: soooo (trying to seem dark and mysterious), what do you want to do now?

scorpius: i dont know :)

albus: wanna rob james?

scorpius: no! :) i actually am a tad tired and kind of want to sleep here for a bit :) do you want to join me :)

albus, nodding because scorp is a genius: yeah thats fire. shuffle over

[miiyochi]

sandwiched in-between

cw. suggestive/nsft, implied 3some 

note. don’t think about the time paradox logistics this would probably cause. don’t think about how convoluted and nonsensical this is either.  just take it. consider it pwp because im too tired

you’re not exactly sure how or why you ended up in your current situation. never in a million years would you have expected to be sandwiched between two solomons from two different millenniums. 

the first solomon, your solomon who you affectionately call “sol” is pressing soft and sweet kisses down your chest, slowly unbuttoning your shirt as he goes further. 

the second solomon, one established as past!solomon is more hasty with his movements. you sit on his lap back pressed against him while he caresses your hips, nipping and sucking at your sensitive neck. past!solomon’s middle and ring finger are shoved down your mouth, muffling any sound that spills from your lips. 

“you say this is our apprentice?” past!solomon remarks between kisses, sol hums against your skin before pulling away.

“they’re cute, right? but let me remind you, they’re my student.” solomon narrows his eyes at his past self, only for his double to smirk back. it was weird…this was all so weird. solomon getting jealous over himself? getting touched so desperately by two solomons who both wanted you to themselves… how did this even happen.

“i must say, this ones a little greedy. squirming so much under my touch, you’re enjoying this aren’t you? getting touched by two men like this… you love it don’t you?” past solomon whispers into your ear, nipping at your lobe. your solomon nods in agreeance. his hands slowly moving down from your chest to your thighs stroking at your inner thigh with the lightest touch; teasing you when they move further inwards. 

solomon slowly peels off your shirt, his past self wasting no time at letting his hands explore your body. ‘was I always this impatient?’ solomon thinks to himself, shaking his head before pressing a hand to your stomach. he gently pushes you backwards further onto past!solomon, grabbing your legs and hooking his arms under your thighs. solomon presses a kiss to either side before making his way inwards. 

“if you wanted me this badly you could’ve just said so, mc. one of me isn’t enough for you, hm?” solomon smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to your thigh. “don’t worry my love, tonight all you’ll get is me. after today, all you’ll ever want is me.” 

m.list

[hiphopcherrrypop]

[carpbait]

stauff

[foursaints]

cant stop thinking about "barty crouch jr fucks like a starving persistence predator on the savanna who sunk his teeth into a wounded antelope".... he is literally crunching his mandibles down and shaking his head dog-like sending viscera and spittle flying everywhere. he is rending flesh and keeping his forepaws pressed down on the jugular. he is cracking bone to go straight for the nutrient-rich organs with NOTHING else on the mind.

(this is about how evan casually initiates a hookup with barty, casually, and maybe tries to pull his hair and call him mean names or something but then he looks down and barty is PANTING with the repressed desire of one thousand burning suns. barty is gripping his hips like hes going to ragdoll evan around the room or kill them both. evan cant even humiliate him properly because bro is drooling over him with ZERO shame like evan's entire Condescending Victorian-Era Dom Who Allows You To Unfasten A Single Button On His Stockings playbook has been tossed out the window. this is a matter of survival now. he is starting to think he miscalculated??)

[sofiaruelle]

✨I love her corporate greed! Go Polle! Give us nothinggg~!✨✨

Honest to god, i fell asleep watching a video essay analyzing evil: Mouthwashing and woke up deliriously to pink pony club kareoke version. Thanks, yt autoplay. And then open tumblr and i see this 👏 master piece by @fox-guardian. 👏

.

.

I might make these into Stickers... 👀👀 What do yall think? Should i make Polle proud?

The hiring thingy is based on this gem:

[beepbananabus]

*shoots in the air to lower rent prices*

i saw this tweet earlier and i was thinking of jonevan,,,

[ninjabelle]

CAITVI NATION WERE SO BACK BABEYYYY

I know we were all imagining the reunion post-breakup differently, darker probably, slower paced-- but here's why I think it was still perfect:

Because they love eachother, they're still in love no matter what typical post breakup bs they both got into (meaningless srry maddie rebounds and throwing yourself into work for Cait VS chasing highs, fights and drowning in bottles for Vi) all that means NOTHING when you're both still in it deep/when you BELONG together and so the second their eyes meet it's game over for whatever bad blood still lingers because you can't hide from the feeling when that person's right in front of you, which ties back perfectly to why Cait AND Vi both tried distancing themselves the moment they realized how impossible their relationship is based on where they came from, confined in their shared world with all its differences (because yes, the oil and water + it's her blood in you scenes serve the same purpose narratively, and are eachothers foil in the worst way no matter how you look at them and they do serve their goal, to push the other away temporarily but IT DOESNT WORK because they're bound to stay connected by that thread and no one can really come between them for long, not even when everything's going to shit around them, AGAIN.

I'm not saying there won't be more drama, they definitely need to talk for realsies and though I'm BEGGING ON MY KNEES for that caitvi sexscene next act I strongly doubt we'll get it, nor see them as a happy endgame yet BUT, and this is important, they're meant for eachother there's just something about them that makes their feelings for eachother a true visceral experience like when Vi said cupcake, a tease, mean and razor sharp and the immediate flood of emotion in Cait's eyes, stronger than her new convictions, her fury and grief-- how you KNOW she wanted to kiss Vi when she put the hood over her head, and you KNOW Vi would have let her.

It's in how easily they fall back into trust after the betrayal, in how Cait gets swept up again by Vi, her plans, her needs the same way Vi before was swept up in Caits, becoming an enforcer, promising to kill her sister even though we all knew she couldn't... yeah. It's evident in everything between them, you can't deny it.

They're driving me mad your honor, they're driving eachother mad... but that feeling of them being inescapable, impossible to separate with any real finality stuck with me this arc and I hope to god it lasts. 🙏🏻🩷🩷

[bettytheteenagewitch]

WOKE my babysitter’s a vampire:

sarah fox

erica jones

benny weir

ethan morgan

rory keaner

mr. GAY

principal HOMOSEXUALITY

[leighsartworks216]

Creating a new genre called Enemies to Soulmates where it's not destiny or fate that has decided they will be together but the sheer fact they literally cannot avoid letting this dumbass get close and becoming possessive over them. Are they friends? Lovers? Who knows. They're handcuffed together by sheer dumb luck and where before they were so desperate to find any way to get these cuffs off, now they flinch back together at the sight of keys

[hermitcraftx]

people love reducing the life series winners to nothing but jokes about their wins and saying they didn't have a good victory when they don't understand their character on a physical level and don't even bother to try like haha yeah Joel car can we talk about how he changed for the better this season and it got him his win and it was a satisfying character arc. for fucks sake going "oh Joel doesn't even have lore it's what he would want" and "this was all Scars hallucination in Secret Life" does such a disservice to him and his character and the car shit was funny for a while but now it's just kinda clear to me that it is kind of lazy. sorry. like Tumblr isn't as bad as twitter (always the case in every walk of life) but just because there's not some crazy angst with his victory doesn't mean his arc isn't good y'all just suck at character analysis

[corvidstrike-pt2]

true pain is wanting to yap about ii18 but not having the words to yap about ii18 so you're just sitting there sobbing

(spoilers in tags btw!)

[p4ngilz]

Could you write a connor x daughter of Athena. Where she has been at camp for a year, but they have known each other for about two weeks and he flirts a little too much in training and she thinks he is being mean. but in the end they make up.

★ nice

oh em gee my first req i feel like spongebob on his first day with his shiny lil spatula and squeaky shoes

p.s. so sorry this took so long i was so very sick when you sent it in and then exam week left me bruised and broken and so sleepy 😭

wc: 2.4k words

Who the Hades is this guy? Or more like, who the hell does this guy think he is?

You stared at the hunched-over figure wiping your bronze weapon down with a cloth, whistling as he went. It was too casual for someone like him to be doing something like that, especially with your weapon.

You recognized him as one of those Stoll brothers. They had been at camp for almost as long as you had, yet it seems that he's been popping up and about into your business these past few days. And he had been doing it a lot. Offering to carry your things, greeting you good morning and good night, even going so far as to try and make your bed for you. It was strange. Suspiciously strange. And you didn't trust him. From what you've heard and seen around camp, he was a prankster, an awfully resourceful two-faced troublemaker who could ruin your day with two paperclips and a cup of orange juice.

You thought he was no match for you, though. After all, you were equally crafty and clever as well, if not more than him. You thanked your mother, Athena, for both those skills and the grace to notice the signs this early on.

Gods, what was the purpose of all of this? You couldn't figure him out. You had some ideas, some guesses, but you couldn't pinpoint anything exactly. You needed direct contact with him; you needed to observe him up close so you could finally see his true intentions. Did he get bored and were you his new target? Was he doing this for a bet? Did you do something recently to catch his attention?

So, it was strange. Strange that you two have been skirting around each other for the past few years, not talking unless forced to and if you did, you only exchanged small talk. Why was he now all up in your business? Was he plotting something? You remembered when he put a tarantula in your half-sister Annabeth's bunk. You thought that was the last time you'd see those two boys.

"You look like you're plotting to kill him."

You jumped. Said Annabeth stood behind you, holding a plastic bag full of something you could only guess was your cabin's deposit of trash. Every other morning someone would do this to keep the cabin clean—and every morning Connor would greet you. Today, he added an offer to wipe your weapon down. You reluctantly agreed, vulnerable at 7 in the morning.

You knew you shouldn't be driven by rumors and gossip, shouldn't judge a book by its cover. But your overly paranoid self just refused to try and get to know the boy.

You pursed your lips and turned to Annabeth, sucking in a breath. "What's he like?" You asked.

"A little shit," Annabeth replied, and your heart sank. "But," she continued. "He's a reliable little shit. He's not evil or anything like that. He just has a talent for getting on people's nerves, him and Travis. It's a Hermes kid thing. Why?"

You glanced nervously to the side. "He's been doing the absolute most for me recently. Asking if I need help with anything, greeting me every time we see each other. We're not close. We're not even close to being close."

Annabeth took a few moments looking over at him as well, a small smile on her face. "Hmm. Well, I can't say anything for sure. But there's a very low chance he's doing this out of malice."

You cringed. "So..."

"Just wait and see where this goes," She advised, swinging the plastic bag. "If he hurts you, beat him up." Then she went away.

You scratched your head, starting to walk away from your cabin. That was...sort of helpful? No worries. You could handle this. It wasn't everyday you dealt with someone with the first name Connor and last name Stoll, but it wasn't everyday that you climbed the lava tower, either, no? And you survived that. So how hard could a boy be?

Quite hard, as it turned out to be.

You watched him stand up, stuffing the dirty cloth in his pocket. He then looked around the camp, walking in circles as if searching for someone. You knew he was looking for you, so when he turned in your direction you reluctantly waved a hand, but not enough to be obvious or easily noticed in the bustle of the camp.

When he spotted you, he jogged up to you like an excited dog, haphazardly swinging your weapon. He held it out with calloused hands. "Here!"

"Thanks. Erm, Connor." You added his name for good measure and took your weapon back. You inspected it quickly. No tampering, as far as you could see. It was clean, too. You looked back up at him and nodded. He had done a decent job. An honest, decent job?

"Did you just wake up?" He blurted out, sporting a smile that made you feel...what, self conscious? His words didn't help.

"No, I've been doing errands while waiting for you." You kept your answer plain and simple. "Why?" Without realizing it, you smoothed out your shirt.

He saw where your hands were going and chuckled, his eyes crinkling as if you just cracked a joke that amused him twice as much as the average pun did. "Don't worry, sunshine, you're not the ugliest thing I've seen in my life."

And the he walked away whistling, probably going off to tie someone's shoelaces together to trip them up. What the fuck? You thought, still processing what had just happened. What was that all about? Don't worry, sunshine?

You bet Apollo was laughing at you from Mount Olympus with the way the sunlight was shining right onto your face as Connor walked away, blinding you as you stood there in confusion.

You eyes searched the assortment of campers for Annabeth, some tiny bit of support you could anchor yourself to. She wasn't there. No striking grey eyes of hers among the orange shirts. You grit your teeth, accepting your defeat.

Well, not exactly your defeat. Not yet, at least. Hopefully not.

You gave Connor your best glare as he walked up to you in the middle of the arena. He swung his sword in his hand back and forth as if this was a game to him. Luckily for you, you also saw it as a game. A fun game to try and get to learn a thing or two about him. You wanted to observe him, close up? Here was your chance.

Sword practice. Sparring. Percy as the instructor overseeing the match. Perfect.

"Shake hands, guys," He said, standing between you and Connor. He then nodded at the boy. "No cheating, alright? No extra tricks."

"Yeah, yeah," He said, tapping his foot. You saw how he seemed almost giddy, but when he met your eyes, his smile melted and he cleared his throat.

You held a hand out. He shook it, not taking his eyes off you. He had a serious expression on, devoid of all humor or teases. "Nice shirt," he mumbled. And then he was off, stepping backwards until he was a reasonable distance away from you.

Shaking the confusion out of your head, you got into position, holding your weapon as you adjusted your stance.

Percy gave the signal and you two were off, celestial bronze clashing against one another. Your ears rung and you tried to not let the sun blind you.

Frustratingly enough, you couldn't observe much except for his physical traits (a light spray of freckles across his nose bridge, a nasty looking scar on his knee and a bruise on the other one, a hand with only one fingernail painted cherry red; unsurprisingly enough for a son of Hermes, he seemed to be ambidextrous) and that he was awfully talkative.

"I might have trouble focusing, but I'm multitasking right now, see? Your face is distracting, but I can handle it." "You're nice to look at when you're cornered like this, you know? Cute and mad, I should piss you off more!" "I really like your lack of enthusiasm all the time!"

Parry. Strike. Slash. Clang! The tip of his sword grazed your jaw and you swiped at his shins. Contrary to his blabber, you stayed silent except for grunts and the like, determined to finish him off.

Someone in the audience of campers yelled for Connor to focus. Instead he laughed. Soon you ended up with your weapons pressed against each other, screeching as the material of each grinded against one another. You were face to face with him now.

"You seem a little rusty, maybe you should consider practicing with me—"

That was your last straw. You pushed him back, so hard that you ended a few feet away from him, and charged, but at the last second swung to disarm him from his waiting sword instead of striking. With your momentum, you wrapped an arm around his neck, pushing his head upward, and stepped behind him, holding your weapon to his throat.

Victory.

"You know, I'd say something, but I don't think it's very audience friendly, I think it should be reserved for someplace without overbearing coordinators or nine year olds," He giggled.

You released him after Percy gave you the signal. Of course, you had to be somewhat polite. So you maneuvered his body so he was facing you, standing properly now. You took his clammy hand and shook it, looking him straight in the eye.

"Good duel," You said, nodding, chest still rising and falling from the intense practice match.

"Yeah, yeah, good duel," Connor replied, stumbling over his words. "Percy didn't...didn't have any comments for us, y-yeah, that's...that's good, right?"

You nodded again, and he let go of your hand, swallowing and glancing at the floor. He wet his lips, as if there was something he was itching to say, something stuck in his throat.

"You...you have nice eyes." He walked away with something you might have called a scurry.

Tilting your head in utter confusion, you heard a voice and felt a hand tap your shoulder. You turned around to see a little girl of about 12 years old. Strands of her dark hair stuck to her chubby cheeks from sweat. "Return the compliment. That's pamahiin, you know." She shot a cautious glance at Connor's turned back.

"It's what?"

"Superstition where someone curses you in the form of a compliment. He's been saying all kinds of things since the start of your match!"

"That doesn't sound like a Greek superstition to me. Where'd you hear that?" The girl left before you could finish. You shook your head. Silly kids.

You decided you had some business to attend to, so you jogged after Connor, following him down the path to the archery range.

"Hey," you called. "Connor!"

He slowly turned around, looking anxious. "...Yes?"

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"You're being strange. You kept talking during sword practice—you never do it that much, and you keep offering to do things for me. Are you following me around? Why did you compliment my shirt out of the blue right before we started?"

His brain seemed to load. And then he smiled. "You watch me during sword practice?"

"Sometimes, when there's nothing else to watch. The point is, you're acting off!"

He cleared his throat. "Well, erm, you know, I've just been seeing you around and I wanted to get to know you more. Wait, I complimented your shirt? We're all wearing the same ones."

You stepped closer. "No, are you up to something? Trying to get under my skin? Everything you say is somewhat backhanded and it feels like you're planning to get me in trouble, or both of us in trouble. If you don't like me, just say it straight to my face." You clenched your fists as you finished.

His expression morphed and looked horrified. "Oh, my Gods. No, I'm sorry."

You stared hard, waiting for him to explain himself.

"Shit, Y/N. That, uh...that wasn't...oh man, I didn't mean for it to come out like that. I mean, I am mouthy all the time, but I didn't want you to think of it like that! I do, I'm complimenting you, I guess we just don't match up in terms of what's a 'nice' gesture or not.

"I'll say it straight, then. I'm being nice to you, trying to say nice things. Because I think you're nice."

You raised a brow. "...Nice?"

"Yes, nice. And I really liked practicing with you. And greeting you in the morning and at night. And you. I like being nice to you even if you don't understand my little pickup lines sometimes."

"So you weren't trying to be mean?"

"No, absolutely not."

"Ah...okay. I see. That's...fair. I guess I was just paranoid." You slowly nodded, understanding his defense. You could see him nervously putting his thumbs through his belt loops.

"Mhm." He looked to the side. "Oh, and by the way, maybe the thing I said this morning was confusing, you're not ugly at all, I think you—everything about you, is very, pleasing to the eye."

You chuckled. "—Is nice."

He let out a relieved laugh at how you had caught on. "Yes, exactly that. Oh," He perked up, looking behind your shoulder. When you followed his gaze you saw some campers walking towards him, and they did not look very happy. He put his sword back into his scabbard and tied his shoelaces, which had come undone.

So he was a prankster. Obviously. But he wasn't as bad as you thought. Not mean, just a little mischievous at times. You definitely were just paranoid. It's not everyday you got that many compliments. Puzzling ones that needed comprehension, yet still compliments. And he was easy to talk to. Not mean at all. Come to think of it, you hadn't fallen victim to his or Travis's pranks lately, not in a long while—

"That's my cue," he reached over and awkwardly patted your shoulder, averting your gaze. Despite that, he was smiling ear-to-ear. "See you sometime, okay? Bye!"

"Bye...!" And he dashed away, leaving you beaming in amusement. Wait, pickup lines? Those were pickup lines to him?

Nice? Nice as in flirting?