#is that a walrus on your face | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

emmyrosee · 1 year ago

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“Do I have a cute butt?”

“Excuse me?” Osamu asks at your question, popping an eye open as he chuckles. You giggle at your matched silliness, gently patting his chest.

“You know.... like, is my butt cute?” You ask again, traveling your eyes to look. Your leg is hooked over his waist, his large hand running along your thigh sweetly.

Osamu sighs sleepily, “is this one of those scenarios where if I answer, you’ll hit me?”

You giggle at him, “depends on your answer.”

“Then I think you have, single handedly, the cutest butt in the world, sweet love.” His large hand travels down and gives your ass a gentle pat, almost like you were a baby.

Well, you are his baby, as he always assures.

Your heart flutters wildly at his words, they always have an effect on you, and you can’t help but nuzzle into his chest further to hide your face.

“Awww,” he teases. “Did I make my angel girl all shy?”

“Shut up,” you mutter, shoving him lightly. He chuckles lowly before shoving his hand under your hip and pushing you up, guiding you to straddle his waist. He gently caresses your sides and thighs, dopey, loving smile on his pink lips.

“I think every part of you is the cutest, my love,” Osamu whispers, making you roll your eyes.

“Oh yeah?” You challenge. “Like what?” He raises his own brows, “everything.” He gently takes your hand in his, “I love these small, sexy hands of yours.” He plants a kiss to each of your fingers before closing them, placing a final kiss to your knuckles. You bite your lip, brushing the fallen locks of hair out of his eyes.

“They’re not small,” you protest. “Yours are just massive.”

“Either way,” he continues. “I love these hips, and these legs that everyone stares at when you wear shorts,” he gently digs his fingers in your thighs slightly, leaving lightened prints before transforming back to your original skin tone.

You avert his gaze, “they stare because my hips come up to your thighs. Tall freak.”

“They stare because you’re hot,” he says, putting extra emphasis on the ‘T’ and grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “They stare because somehow, your stunning ass got stuck with me."

“I love being stuck with you!"

“I love it too,” he assures, smiling as you laugh. “That’s another thing,” he says. “That sweet laugh of yours.”

“Oh, you mean the dolphin mating call?” You scoff, crossing your arms.

Osamu shakes his head, “no, you brat. I’m talking about your laugh. Your sweet giggles. Your scoffs. The way it goes silent when you laugh really hard. It the fucking best.”

“No it’s not,” you groan. “You’re the only person on planet earth who could find a walrus being assaulted with a crowbar cute.”

“There’s nothing wrong with finding your little giggles endearing.”

“Yeah, right.”

“But you know what I love most about you?” He asks, cupping your ass and hips in his massive hands.

You quirk your brow, “what’s that, oh Prince Charming of mine.”

“My absolute biggest weakness about you, dollface, is...” he squeezed harder. “Messing with you.”

You can barely process what he said before he bucks his hips up against you, bouncing you up and down. You scream out in laughter, planting your hands to his chest. His own laughter mixes with yours, his thighs continuing to bounce you like you’re a rider on a horse.

“Okay, okay!” You manage between giggles. “I get it!”

“Don’t,” bounce “think,” bounce “you,” bounce “do.” He grins as he stops bouncing, sitting up to wrap his arms around you, pulling you flush to his chest as you both flop back down.

“You’re so bad,” you giggle, running your hands over his chest. Osamu chuckles, planting a kiss to your head.

“What can I say,” he sighs dreamily. “I'm a man of poetic genius.”

"If that's what you want to call it."

Immediately, hands dart under your arms to tickle you viciously, smirking as you shriek and clamp your hands to your sides and laughter pours out of your lips.

It truly was his favorite sound.

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humaling · 4 months ago

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Two Victors, One Closet.

pairings: finnick odair x victor!reader

summary: you hid in a closet to escape from a fan—but what are the odds of ending up in the same closet with the capitol's darling?

warnings: none!

word count: 3k

author's note: my fav piece so far. i love forced proximity guys

You’d rather be anywhere but here—at another Capitol party, suffocating under the weight of excess and expectation. If your presence weren’t mandatory, if Snow weren’t holding a noose over your loved one’s neck, you’d be in bed, sleeping soundly—something you’ve only managed to do since winning your Games a few years ago.

This party is no different from the others you’ve endured. It’s loud, obnoxious, and mind-numbingly monotonous. People parade around in the most hideous outfits imaginable, calling it fashion simply because it defies normalcy. You can think of a few who would look far better in something simple, yet they insist on prancing around in walrus costumes or altering their features to resemble wild animals—an attempt at beauty that, in your humble opinion, makes them more unsettling than presentable.

If you earned a dollar for every person you’ve avoided tonight, you’d have at least a hundred—enough to buy yourself a decent meal at that small diner on the outskirts of the Capitol, where the people, at the very least, seem a bit more human than the ones inside this party.

You uncomfortably shift in your dress, flattening out the creases that start to form. The fabric, though luxurious, clings to you in a way that feels suffocating, a constant reminder of the expectations woven into every stitch. A pink cocktail sits in your hand, glittering under the dim glow of the chandelier, the ice clinking softly as you tighten your grip around the delicate stem. Your expression remains composed—sweet, practiced, effortless—as a Capitol couple manages to sneak up behind you, their voices dripping with familiarity as they greet you like an old friend.

“My! You would look so much better in my dress than the one you’re wearing,” one of them gushes, grasping your arm with manicured fingers. The scent of artificial roses wafts off her in waves, sickly sweet and overpowering.

You glance at her outfit, taking in the bold choice of material. Classic. A long cocktail dress, its bodice clinging to her frame, the skirt draping in soft, deliberate folds—made entirely of tiger fur, the stripes catching the light with a golden sheen. Authentic, of course. Anything less wouldn’t be worth parading.

“You flatter me,” you reply, forcing a light laugh, though your stomach twists at the thought of slipping into something like that.

“Oh, but I mean it! Just the other day, Vera Juno—you know her, don’t you? The one with the most divine peacock-feather corset—she was saying how dreadfully plain fur looks on me, but I told her, ‘Well, darling, it’s not the fur, it’s the person wearing it!��” She giggles, waving a hand as if dismissing the very idea that she could look anything less than stunning.

Her husband, draped in a garish emerald suit with diamond-studded cuffs, takes a long sip from his flute of champagne before sighing dramatically. “Speaking of Vera, did you hear? She’s on her third face this year. Third! I told her she had to slow down, but she’s obsessed. I mean, honestly, she’s starting to look like a bad painting.”

You hum in amusement, nodding along as if this is the most fascinating conversation you’ve ever been part of, when in reality, you feel like you’re suffocating. The weight of their words, their extravagance, their sheer detachment from anything real—it presses down on you like the bodice of your dress, too tight, too constricting.

“I simply must introduce you to my designer,” the woman continues, taking a sip from a martini glass filled with some unnaturally blue liquid. “She does custom work—one of a kind. None of that tacky, mass-produced nonsense. Oh! And she works with the rarest*materials. I swear, she had a real mockingjay feather last season, but she used it on some nobody—can you imagine?”

You force a gasp, widening your eyes just enough to appear engaged. “A real mockingjay feather? That’s practically a historic artifact.”

The husband scoffs. “And wasted on a girl who doesn’t even appreciate fashion.”

You smile, tilting your head in interest, all while subtly scanning the room. You need an escape. The dance floor? No, too crowded. The bar? No, you’d risk them following you for another round of terribly important Capitol gossip. Your fingers tighten around your glass as you spot an avox disappearing to an empty hallway. Perfect.

“Oh! Is that—excuse me, just one moment,” you say, flashing them an apologetic smile before slipping away, weaving through the sea of elaborately dressed socialites. You exhale softly, relief washing over you as their voices fade into the background.

As you step into the hallway, a voice calls out your name. Your breath catches, and you pick up the pace, scanning your surroundings. Hide. That’s the only thought in your head. You can’t handle another meaningless conversation with another obnoxious Capitolian. You’d rather lock yourself in a dark, windowless room than entertain their exhausting chatter.

Your eyes dart around until they land on a cabinet door, slightly ajar. There’s no time to hesitate. You slip inside, pulling the door shut behind you, swallowing yourself in darkness.

Pressing your ear against the wooden surface, you listen. Muffled footsteps. The sound of your name again. You recognize the voice instantly, and dread coils in your stomach. Him. The man who runs that ridiculous website about you, documenting every move you make as if you’re a spectacle rather than a person. He’s practically built an archive of your life, shoving every scrap of information he can find onto the internet for Capitol citizens to obsess over.

You hold your breath, remaining perfectly still, listening as his footsteps shuffle past. He calls your name once more before, finally, mercifully, they start to fade. You wait a few beats, making sure he’s really gone before exhaling a slow, relieved sigh. Your forehead rests against the wooden door as your grip on the handle loosens.

But the moment of peace is short-lived.

A voice murmurs behind you, low and bemused.

“Uh, sweetheart?”

A yelp escapes your throat as you whirl around, arm swinging wildly to hit whoever’s behind you. But your hand meets nothing but air before it smacks into the wooden wall with a sharp thud.

A soft cry leaves your lips, pain stinging through your knuckles. Before you can recover, there’s a faint click beside you. A dim light flickers on above, casting a warm glow over the cramped space. You squint, your eyes adjusting, and then they land on the bronze-haired man standing at your side, sea-green eyes blown wide in surprise.

You freeze, recognition settling in.

“Finnick?”

His lips twitch before stretching into a slow, easy grin, flashing those infuriatingly perfect teeth. He leans against the wall, one hand still resting on the light switch, head tilting slightly as he peers down at you.

“Fancy meeting you here, sweetheart.” His voice is laced with amusement, a smirk playing on his lips as he extends his free hand toward you in mock politeness.

You glance at it, scoff, and cross your arms instead. “What are you doing here?”

Finnick sighs, slipping his hand back into the pocket of his dress pants. “Hiding. Obviously.” His tone is dry, like the answer should be obvious.

You exhale sharply, pressing your back against the door as you try to compose yourself. Of course, he’s hiding. He’s probably avoiding some desperate Capitol sponsor or an overzealous admirer. People cling to Finnick Odair like moths to a flame, and he plays his role so well.

“Well,” you mutter, shifting slightly, “I was here first.”

He chuckles, the sound deep and amused. “So territorial. What, do you want me to step out and expose both of us?”

You narrow your eyes. He has a point. If either of you leaves now, you’ll draw attention, and the last thing you need is to be caught crammed into a cabinet with Finnick Odair. That would be another scandal for the Capitol to sink its teeth into.

You sigh, rubbing your temple before glancing up at him. “Fine. Just—don’t talk.”

Finnick hums, tilting his head slightly. “You sure? I think we could have a very productive conversation in here.”

“Finnick.”

“Alright, alright.” He grins, leaning back against the shelves. “Silent as a clam.”

You roll your eyes and shift in place, trying to find a comfortable spot without knocking anything over. The cabinet wasn’t made for two people. Your arm brushes against his chest, and you can feel the warmth radiating off him, his breath ghosting against your hair.

“Will you move?” you hiss, trying not to bump into the precariously stacked cans of paint, cleaning supplies, and tools surrounding you.

Finnick lifts a hand in mock innocence. “Well, honey, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but it’s pretty cramped in here with all this stuff.” He gestures lazily to the shelves around you.

You glare at him. “You clearly still have space behind you.” You poke a firm finger against his chest. “Move.”

Finnick glances over his shoulder, then looks back at you with an exaggerated frown. “There’s a vacuum.”

You stare at him. “Are you serious?”

“It’s taking up, like, all my space.”

A slow, frustrated breath pushes through your nose as you shift your weight. It’s hot, cramped, and you’re stuck here with Finnick Odair.

He watches your struggle with barely concealed amusement before offering, “Well, I could just step out and—”

“Don’t you dare even think about it!” you whisper-yell, eyes sharp as daggers.

His smirk widens. Infuriating.

Finnick’s smirk deepens, his sea-green eyes glinting in the dim light. “Oh, honey, you wound me,” he drawls, placing a hand over his chest like you’ve personally offended him. “You think I’d sell you out just to stretch my legs?”

You scoff, crossing your arms despite the cramped space. “Yes.”

His lips twitch. “Fair enough.”

You huff, shifting against the wooden door, trying to create some semblance of distance between you and Finnick, but it’s impossible. The small storage cabinet wasn’t designed to hold two people, let alone a six-foot-tall Victor with broad shoulders who takes up way too much space. His arm brushes against yours, and you feel the warmth radiating off him—annoyingly distracting.

Finnick exhales dramatically. “You know, if you wanted to get me alone, you could’ve just asked.”

You whip your head up, glaring. “I will knock you out, Odair.”

He grins. “With what? Your tiny fists? Oh, sweetheart, you’re adorable.”

Your nostrils flare. Infuriating. Absolutely insufferable. You have half a mind to elbow him in the ribs, but knowing Finnick, he’d probably enjoy that too. Instead, you sigh sharply, tilting your head back against the door.

Silence settles between you, save for the muffled sounds of the party outside—the distant laughter, the clinking of glasses, the upbeat music that feels worlds away from the stifling little closet.

Then Finnick speaks again, voice quieter this time. “So, who are you hiding from?”

You hesitate. You don’t owe him an answer. But there’s something disarming about Finnick, something that makes people spill their secrets before they even realize they’ve opened their mouths.

Still, you settle for a vague response. “Someone annoying.”

He hums. “So, not me?”

You shoot him a look, and he chuckles, clearly entertained.

“Let me guess.” He taps his chin, pretending to think. “Overzealous sponsor? Jealous socialite? Deranged fan?”

You shift uncomfortably. Close enough.

Finnick notices. His smirk softens into something less performative, more genuine. “C’mon,” he coaxes, tilting his head. “Who was it?”

You exhale through your nose, deciding to humor him. “That guy who runs the website about me.”

Finnick’s brows raise, then his face twists in sympathy. “Oh, him? Yeah, I’ve got one of those too. Talks about me like we braid each other’s hair at sleepovers.”

Despite yourself, a snort escapes your lips. “Right? He acts like he knows everything about me. It’s creepy.”

Finnick grins. “Well, at least you haven’t been shipped with half of Panem. I swear, if I had a coin for every time someone claimed I was secretly in love with some random socialite…” He shakes his head, mock exasperation in his voice.

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? And who are you secretly in love with, Finnick?”

His smirk falters for half a second—so quick you almost miss it. But then it’s back, all charm and mischief. “Wouldn’t you like to know, sweetheart?”

Your lips press together, and before you can stop yourself, you mutter, “Not really.”

Finnick places a hand over his heart again, gasping. “You wound me twice in one night? Unbelievable.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to it. The frustration you felt earlier has dulled into something else. Something lighter.

Still, you don’t let your guard down. “Just don’t get too comfortable,” you warn. “The second I think it’s safe, I’m out of here.”

Finnick smirks, leaning back against the shelves. “And leave me all alone? In this cold, dark closet?” He sighs dramatically. “How cruel.”

“Ugh, shut up.” You groan, lifting a hand to shove Finnick back.

It happens too fast.

You push him a little harder than intended. His legs catch on the vacuum behind him, throwing him off balance. His arms flail as he tries to grab onto something—unfortunately, that something is you.

You barely have time to react before gravity does its job.

A loud thud echoes through the tiny storage room as you crash into Finnick. Your foreheads smack together, sending a sharp jolt of pain through your skull. Finnick, caught in the most ridiculous position imaginable, hangs awkwardly midair—his back pressed against the wall, legs still half-propped on the vacuum. His arms instinctively wrap around your waist, holding you in place.

You wince, lifting your head slightly, your free hand pressing against your now-throbbing forehead. “Ow,” you mumble. His skull might as well be made of steel.

Finnick lets out a breathy chuckle beneath you, though it’s slightly strained. “Y’know, sweetheart, if you wanted to be on top, you could’ve just asked.”

Your hand immediately smacks his shoulder.

Before he can get another word out, the door creaks open.

“Is there someone in h—oh…”

Finnick’s head snaps up—only for your forehead to slam into Finnick’s again.

“Ow!” you both groan in unison.

You don’t even hesitate before slapping his arm again. He muffles a grunt.

Meanwhile, the woman standing in the doorway is frozen, gloved hand covering her mouth, eyes wide with realization. “Oh my! ” she gasps, face flushing. “Are you two all right?”

Her words barely register as you rub your forehead, still disoriented. A gloved hand touches your shoulder, and you glance up to see her looking between you and Finnick, brows raised.

“Yes, we’re fine,” you mutter automatically, nodding mindlessly.

That’s when you see it—the look on her face. The way her eyes flick between you and Finnick, her lips slightly parted as if processing something. Then it clicks.

Oh. Oh no.

Finnick, still beneath you, shifts uncomfortably, his gaze flicking to the side. His tongue pokes at his cheek, barely suppressing a smirk.

The woman’s face shifts from surprise to intrigue.

“Oh,” she says again, but this time, there’s understanding in her tone. As if she knows exactly what she just walked in on.

Your stomach drops as you realize exactly what she is thinking. She doesn’t just assume she walked in on something—she is convinced of it. And worse, she looks absolutely thrilled.

“Oh,” she says again, her eyes lighting up with amusement. “Oh my.”

You scramble to push yourself off Finnick, but in your flustered state, you end up pressing your weight further onto him instead. His breath catches for just a second before he exhales a soft chuckle.

“Easy there, sweetheart. Didn’t know you were so eager.”

You smack his shoulder, but it only makes him grin wider. “Will you shut up and help me?” you whisper harshly, still trying to push yourself up without making the situation worse.

Finnick sighs dramatically, as if this is somehow an inconvenience for him, before placing his hands on your waist and lifting you off with frustrating ease. Once you’re on your feet, you try to brush yourself off and compose yourself, but before you can say anything, the woman gasps and claps her hands together.

“This is so lovely,” she gushes. “And here I thought the rumors were just speculation! But to think I’d witness it firsthand—oh, this is wonderful.”

You frown, not entirely sure you want to know what she’s talking about. “What?”

She gestures between you and Finnick with an almost conspiratorial expression. “Your little secret romance, dear. You don’t have to pretend with me. I won’t tell a soul.”

You open your mouth, then close it again, completely at a loss for words. Meanwhile, Finnick leans casually against the shelf, watching with clear amusement.

“That’s very kind of you,” he says smoothly, flashing his most charming smile. “We’d hate for anyone to get the wrong idea.”

You whip your head toward him, glaring daggers. Do not encourage this.

The woman giggles, as if she is witnessing something out of a Capitol drama. “Oh, don’t worry. I understand. A little forbidden rendezvous? How thrilling!”

You let out a strangled sound of frustration. “It’s not—we’re not—”

She raises a hand, silencing you with a knowing smile. “Say no more, dear. You have my discretion.”

Finnick hums approvingly. “Much appreciated.”

You feel your blood pressure rise. He is enjoying this far too much, and it’s obvious by the way his lips twitch as he glances at you. The woman sighs wistfully as if she is witnessing the most romantic scandal in all of Panem.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it,” she says, winking before disappearing down the hallway.

For a moment, you just stand there, staring at the empty doorway as your brain struggles to catch up. The silence is thick, filled only by the distant hum of the party outside.

Then, slowly, you turn to Finnick.

He is smirking, arms crossed over his chest. “Well,” he drawls, amusement thick in his voice. “That went well.”

You inhale deeply through your nose, trying to rein in the urge to strangle him. “You absolute—”

Finnick chuckles and tilts his head slightly. “Careful, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want people to think our lover’s quarrel is anything serious.”

You groan, rubbing your temples. You can already hear the whispers spreading through the Capitol. By tomorrow morning, there will be headlines, theories, and most likely an entire fan club dedicated to the two of you.

And Finnick Odair, the bane of your existence, is going to love every second of it.

part two

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick odair x you #hunger games finnick #the hunger games

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notsodelirious · 1 month ago

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PLEASE give me t4t ftm jason todd x reader!! i need to rub my pussy against his post patrol 😭😭‼️‼️

pleasantly surprised by how many people wanted this, but in any case, here you go <3

synopsis: Jason comes back and you help him unwind

notes: NFSW MDNI, both male and female terms are used to describe genitalia

tags: oral sex, fingering, brief penetration, banter, established relationship, wc: 2.7k words

this one fought me in the editing process, but i hope you enjoy anyway

•─────⋅☾⊱♰⊰☽⋅─────•

The chatter from the TV became a soft blur in the sounds of the city below—it was well past 3AM but you could still hear the cars and life, crawling below your open window.

You’d stopped paying attention to the plot and the characters ages ago, content in just watching the pretty colours and actors flash across the screen, with no real sense of direction. They didn’t matter anymore, not as Jason trudged into the apartment with a massive sigh.

“Tough patrol?”

You craned your neck over the side of the sofa, giving him a soft smile as he loomed by your window, helmet in hand. He looked up at you, frustration and exhaustion coiled tight in his frame, shoulders tensed like he was still ready for a fight.

“Fucking dumbasses can’t follow simple fucking directions.”

“Tell me about it,” you said, with an understanding nod as you watched him dump his gear onto your kitchen table.

“One simple fucking direction,” he growled, slammed his gun down, undoubtedly denting the already beaten wood. “How fucking hard is it to understand ‘don’t go in alone’?”

You hummed as you moved to kneel on the sofa, watching him move around your apartment; it was always fascinating watching him exist in your space, like he was always meant to be there, a hole you hadn’t even known had been there filled by his presence.

It was comforting—maybe a little bit terrifying if you thought about it too much, but still comforting.

“Did everybody get out okay?” you asked as you watched him pull off his gloves.

“Everybody’s fine,” he said, shucked his jacket off, draped it across one of your chairs. You watched him shed layer after layer, an undeniable and everlasting warmth enveloping your heart as you sat and admired.

A couple of months ago, you’d never have imagined you’d watch him strip his armour meticulously—you’d have never imagined being trusted enough to be shown the cracks and soft spots in his armour, the latches and weak points.

But Jason undressed in front of you like it was the most comfortable thing in the world.

You couldn’t love him more for it.

“Timbit’s a little scuffed up but he’ll live,” he continued.

“And you?”

“Fine.”

His claim seemed to have some validity to it—in the low light and stripped down to his undershirt, you could see bruises that were blooming an ugly purple and old scrapes; but nothing from tonight.

He kicked off his boots, dropping his socks into them.

“So nothing went horribly wrong?”

He shook his head, white wisps of hair falling in front of his face, curling the slightest bit. His footsteps were heavy as he walked over to you, and slumped onto the sofa with all the grace and care of a walrus.

“So what’s the matter?” you asked softly as you left the sofa to stand between his spread legs, gently cupping his face. You brushed your thumb under his eye, watched as some of the tension slowly bled out of his frame and he leaned into your touch.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, tilting his head just enough to kiss your palm then your wrist. “Just… missed you.”

You huffed softly as you sank onto his lap, straddling his thigh, letting your hand fall from his face, smiling a little when he followed your touch.

“You missed me?”

“Are you gonna be a little shit about it?”

“No clue what you mean,” you smiled, trailing your fingers along his thighs before they caught on the buckle of his holster. You were quick to loosen the straps and pull them off—you were almost sad to see them go; they accentuated his thighs so nicely.

But you wanted access.

“Babe,” he whispered—his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“That’s me,” you smiled teasingly, leaning in just a little closer. His belt fell open with a click.

“Shit- wait-“

“I’m waiting.”

He bit his lip as he looked up at you, opening and closing his mouth as he struggled to find the words to say. You waited patiently, playing with the hem of his shirt, occasionally dipping under, brushing your fingers along his happy trail.

“Yes?”

“I-“ You pulled his fly down.

“Speak up.”

“You don’t have to,” he said, “I’ll get over myself.”

“And if I really want to?”

You pressed your lips to his, a poor distraction to finish undoing his trousers.

“Talk to me,” you said, scratching blunt nails just above the elastic waistband of his boxers.

“Keep going,” he answered as he sank into the sofa.

He bit his lip to stifle a moan and watched as your hand disappeared down the front of his trousers to cup his bare mound.

“Oh fuck.” His voice was soft, breathy—he was already falling apart at the seems in your hand and you’d barely even begun.

“No jockstrap today, huh?”

“Couldn’t be asked,” he grunted as he bucked slightly into your hand, rubbing his t-dick against the heel of your palm.

“Adventurous.”

“It would literally just get in the way.”

You snorted as you pulled your hand back and slipped off his lap and down onto the floor between his knees.

“You sure that was the only reason?”

“Yeah- mmph…”

You nuzzled his crotch, flicking your gaze up to his flustered face then back at your work.

“Yeah?” you smirked as you leaned your weight a little more against him. He cupped your face, petting the apple of your cheek.

“Taking your fucking time there.”

Your face fell immediately as you rolled your eyes, “Shut the fuck up-“

“Make me.” You glared up at him as soon as he said it, his smug ass grinning in return.

“Take off your shirt,” you said, waiting for him to take it off before you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his trousers, “Lift your hips.”

You pulled his trousers and boxers down as he complied, finally divesting him fully, and spread his legs further apart so you could see your prize.

His cunt sat there as a prized possession, and his clit, grown and swollen, throbbed softly in anticipation.

“Why are you so big?” you said softly as you stroked his dick, thumbing it softly as you watched it swell further under your touch. “I didn’t grow that big.”

“Choke on it,” he answered teasingly to which you only chuckled.

“Yes, sir.”

“Wait, I’m kidding- Oh fuck,” his hands held you down instinctively and pushing you closer when you wrapped your lips around his fat clit and sucked.

You licked it softly, teasingly before delving back in to suck his soul from his dick, burying your nose in his curls.

You hummed and watched in delight as a shiver racked up his spine, leaving him panting and whining.

He pushed his hips closer, chasing your mouth, as he tried his best not to suffocate you.

“Please,” he gasped, looking down with wide, pleading eyes. “That’s- dude!”

You gave him a shit eating grin as you pulled away, stopping dead in your tracks before he could reach the slightest bit of satisfaction.

You used the collar of your t-shirt to wipe your face clean of Jason’s excitement before shrugging it over your head.

“You’re such a fucking dick.”

“You love me for it,” you said gleefully as you drop the shirt in favour of pressing your fingers to his cunt, pushing his folds apart as you trailed fingertips around his opening, teasing, watching his hole flutter.

It was mesmerising, watching him struggle and quiver, hole dampening by the second as you parted lips and explored him but never stretched him open.

You pressed soft kisses to the inside of his thighs, biting and suckling occasionally, letting your gaze flicker up to him every time he moaned or whimpered.

Eventually, you took pity.

“Ah, f- uck, baby,” Jason groaned lowly as you sunk your finger past his folds and into his pussy. You grinned when you heard the soft squelch as you pulled out and pushed back in.

You sat up on your knees, passing your clean hand behind his neck to tug him down, closer to you.

“Good?” you asked, tilting your head just enough so your lips could brush against his—you caught his top lip between yours, kissing him softly before you finally pulled away, just enough to hear his response.

“More,” he pleaded softly, rolling his hips in time with your movements—a second finger slipped in easily, his body stretching and accommodating to your intrusion.

“Better?”

“No, I want to feel you, damn it,” he grunted, exasperated, already urging you back up onto the sofa. “Need your fucking cunt on mine, yesterday.”

You chuckled, standing so you could take your sweatpants off and soon you were being pulled back down into his lap. He shifted so you were both sideways on the couch, warm hands splayed across your back, holding you close to him.

“Eager?” you teased—Jason crashed his lips against yours before you could even think to continue. You felt his hand on your chin, felt him cup your jaw softly before he was opening your mouth and pushing his tongue past pliant lips, licking the remnants of his essence from you.

Your cunt dampened under his attention, and you were left subconsciously grinding against his thigh. He pulled away a little and reached forward, fingers that were once holding your face slipping between damp folds.

“I love that pussy so fucking much,” he whispered as you moaned, rolling your hips against his hand. “You’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t you?”

“Look who’s fucking talking,” you gasped. He leaned in again, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, and tugged softly—leaving you moaning and embarrassingly desperate, as you wrapped your arms around his neck to drag yourself closer.

He released you to kiss you properly, smiling softly against your lips—his hand left your pussy to slot one of his leg above yours.

When you finally parted, he leaned back enough to rest against the armrest and let your bodies fit together.

You slipped down before you could steady yourself, accidentally brushing your cunt against his.

You muffled a sound behind your hand but leaned back all the same, rocking your hips against his.

“Shit,” you gasped as you dragged your dick against his, gaze flicking up to his face, just in time to see his eyes roll back a little—Jason groaned, fingers digging into your ass, bring you back down, bucking his hips up so his cunt could meet yours.

“Fuck,” he breathed, and he looked down between your two bodies, watched your swollen clits bump against each other, teasing each other. “Fuck, so good.”

You held onto his thigh as he brought you back down repeated, grinding into your hips—you brushed your fingers against the scars on his skin, admiring his form in front of you, how his chest rose and fell from his laboured breathing, the faint surgery scars silver in the dim light.

“You’re so fucking handsome,” you panted as you began to grind down harder. You whined a little louder, something almost sounding like his name or a prayer.

Wet lips rubbed against each other, glistening in the dim lighting, soft, lewd sounds punctuating your breathing.

“You’re so warm,” he said softly, hands slipping and shifting just enough to start bringing you down at a steadier, more eager pace. “Just like that, just like fuck-“

You slipped up, shifting his leg off you, just enough to slip his dick past your soft folds, leaving you both moaning and panting hard.

It was an amazing fucking day when you figured out Jason had grown long enough to push his cock into you and you’d be damned if you didn’t take advantage of that.

You moved again, pressing your hands against his chest.

“You’re so big,” you groaned as you felt him just barely restraining himself front rutting against you. “You feel that? Feel so good stretching me open.”

“Babe,” he groaned, voice strained as his grip on you tightened, “So good. So fucking good, I-“

You felt his whole body twitch and tremble before he was coming, dick throbbing and cunt drenched.

You pulled away enough for him to slip out of you but still rubbing your pussies together.

“Good?” you smiled cheekily, panted and worked up. You were so entranced by the sight of his orgasm you’d almost forgotten your own.

But as Jason’s eyes found you, you knew he hadn’t.

“It’s okay,” you said softly as he sat up to place a hand behind your neck, the other already finding your clit between your bodies.

“I want to,” he promised in a low voice, lips brushing ever so slightly against yours. “Let me. Please? Let me make you cum all over my face.”

You moaned, just the thought of his face between your legs enough to reignite the spark.

“Yeah,” you swallowed, looking up to meet gorgeous glass green eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

Jason immediately guided you down onto your back—you let him move you however he wished, more focused on the way his biceps shifted as he gripped your thighs and pushed them out.

He moved down to your throbbing cunt, soft, open kisses down your ribs and tummy on the way.

“So fucking hot,” you heard him mumble under your breath. You couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling a little flustered but unable to stop smiling as his gaze flicked up to you. “Something funny, handsome?”

“No,” you smiled as you shook your head.

He just hummed, laying a last kiss at the end of your happy trail before nosing your dick softly.

“Jay-“

He slipped your cock into his mouth, moaning around it softly, holding your hips firm against his face.

He looked up ready to come again from the taste of you alone, eagerly devouring everything you had to offer.

Your hands flew to his hair, gasping softly as you rocked against his face, looking down at him so comfortably buried between your legs, eating your pussy like it was his only purpose in life.

As if he’d found true passion in your body.

You groaned loudly, tugging on inky strands, unsure if you were pushing into or pulling away from his touch.

“Shit,” you gasped, “Good boy. Just like that. Keep doing that.”

He whimpered at the sound of your voice, the gentleness and honesty of your praise. He pushed closed to your cunt, licking up your slit, suckling on your dick.

It coiled in your belly, and you cried out behind muffled lips, eyes rolling as you practically smothered him, thighs clamping around his head.

He whined loudly, happily, growing just a tad bit more eager as he drew you closer and closer to the edge.

Until you finally came, moaning his name.

He lapped at your cunt as you came all over his face, drenching his mouth and jaw in your ecstasy.

Your legs were shivering as you finally came down—Jason slowed a little when he felt your legs release him but didn’t stop until you began to nudge him away.

He pulled away a little, enough that his mouth was no longer on but still lying between your legs.

“Feel better?” you smiled as you wiped your thumb across his cheek, collecting some of yourself from his skin. You felt his full attention on you as you brought your thumb up to your lips, tasting yourself.

“Yeah,” he swallowed as he panted, smiling up at you softly. “So much better.”

He reached down, pulling your shirt off the floor to wipe his face.

“Seriously?”

“First thing I found,” he said with a shit eating grin before tossing it back onto the floor. “Besides, you also wiped your face on it.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist, rested his head against your stomach. You huffed softly, running your fingers through his soft hair, almost as an apology for nearly pulling his hair out.

“It’s my t-shirt,” you said, scratching his scalp, in a way that made him curl into your touch.

“No it’s not,” he snorted “It’s mine.”

You glanced down and lo and behold, he was right.

“So it is.”

“Thief.”

“Shut up. You love it when I wear your shit.”

“You’re still a thief,” he smiled up at you, before leaning down to kiss your hip. “Love you.”

“Yeah, I guess I love you too.”

“That’s gross.”

“Shut the actual fuck up.”

•─────⋅☾⊱♰⊰☽⋅─────•

I have nothing to say for myself :3

requests are closed but my current projects list and masterlist are up on my blog <3

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strangersatellites · 2 months ago

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I owe you a black eye and two kisses

933 words | idk M adjacent I guess

The interviewer’s name is Brooke. Steve isn’t sure who she’s with, he wasn’t paying that much attention.

She seems like a nice girl. Really, she does.

Steve is a little distracted though, trying his best to be earnest when he answers her questions.

“How did it feel when Jeremy told you he wrote the character specifically for you?”

“What was the most meaningful scene for you to film?”

“What was it like working with Nancy Wheeler? She’s my favorite.”

He thinks he does a pretty good job all things considered.

Well- considering that all he can hear is “Eddie! Over here” from the wall of paparazzi to his right. As kind as Brooke seems, he would much rather be hanging off his boyfriend while the crowd screams his name and begs for autographs.

Dating another famous person is all fun and games until work calls you both at the same time.

He looks over his shoulder between questions and catches Eddie throwing him a wink. He’s stood on the red carpet with the other Corroded Coffin boys and they’re all joking and laughing and acting like they don’t have a care in the world.

Steve knows that’s not true. They were all but shaking in their boots on the car ride over while their manager threatened them each on their lives to behave themselves.

He laughs under his breath and tears his eyes away.

“Okay! Now for some rapid-fire fan questions!” she says.

Perfect, this will be a good distraction until Eddie’s done being a goddamned model behind him.

Steve claps his hands together and furrows his eyebrows.

“I’m ready, let's do it.”

“What’s your favorite cereal?”

“Frosted Flakes, obviously.”

“When was the last time you went to the dentist?”

He snorts a laugh. “Uh, about a month ago actually. I chipped a tooth on set.”

“Yikes.” She looks down at the card in her hand. “Who is your most played artist on Spotify?”

He smiles, doesn’t need to pull out his phone to know the answer to that one.

“That would be my boyfriend.”

Brooke smiles at him and leans in conspiratorially, “If he isn’t really, I won’t tell anyone.”

He laughs. “He really is! If you wanted some juice though, Sabrina Carpenter is my second.”

She laughs and nods. “That’s perfect. I so see it. Okay, last one, what is your favorite snack to eat in bed?”

Oddly enough, he doesn’t really have to think to answer this one either.

“Pretzels, easy. We’ve been watching “How to Get Away With Murder” before bed every night and I’ve probably been through three bags this week. Honest.”

Brooke breaks her professional character to laugh and it spurs him on.

“It’s one of those things, I probably haven’t thought about a pretzel in three years and now that I’ve remembered they exist, I cannot put them down.” He notices now that even the camera guy is nodding and laughing. “You know when I was a kid, I used to love dipping a pretzel in my Coke can and hearing it fizz. That shit-”

He cuts himself off with a smile when he feels a warm hand slide around his waist.

“Hey hot stuff,” he giggles.

Eddie smacks a dramatic kiss to his cheek and squeezes his hip. His pretty smile taking over his face once he gets a good look at the blush that paints his cheeks.

“Hey babydoll. What’re you guys talking about?”

Steve’s head whips back around to Brooke. “Ooh! Ask him! I want to see if he says the same thing I did.”

She smiles and points the mic towards Eddie.

“What’s your favorite snack to eat in bed?”

Eddie puts on a faux contemplative look, puts a hand on his chin. He hums.

“Hm. That’s a tough one. God, I just don’t-”

Steve cuts him off, wraps his own arms around Eddie’s frame and gets in his face with a laugh.

“Oh come on, I know you’re thinking it! I want to be right!”

He makes himself giggle into Eddie’s shoulder thinking back to a few nights ago when Eddie had stuck two pretzel rods in his lip and pretended to be a walrus. So his confusion as to why Eddie isn’t answering only grows when he sees the filthy smirk on his face.

Eddie leans back far enough that he can see the mic flag.

“Who did you say you were with again?”

“E! News.”

Oh good. Steve had wanted to know that.

Eddie chuckles and Steve figures out what’s happening as soon as he feels Eddie’s hand shift. He can’t move his own fast enough.

“Well, Brooke from E! News, my favorite snack to eat in bed is my baby,” he punctuates it with a smack to Steve’s ass, “what else?”

Steve buries his blushing face in his boyfriend’s jacket and rushes to smack a hand over Eddie’s mouth before he can get out a, “Have you seen his-”

“OKAY, that’s enough out of you,” he looks back toward Brooke who is laughing hysterically, “I’m so sorry. He’s an animal.”

Steve is going to beat him up. Really, he is.

Eddie grabs his wrist and pulls his hand away from his mouth and settles it over his chest, bare under his studded jacket.

“Can you blame me? Look at him. Never tasted anything better.”

Okay, he’s done for real this time. He grabs Eddie’s arm and pulls him away, back toward the boys and more importantly away from the cameras.

“Thanks so much Brooke, you’re a gem, I am so sorry, again.”

Eddie cackles behind him and he just knows that they’ll never live this one down.

(He doesn’t really want to.)

#if you know the two interviews that prompted this idea #let me kiss you on the mouth #if you don’t #look up that mtv interview of Angelina Jolie and billy bob thornton NEOW #also Keery once genuinely answered the question about pretzels #unironically #steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #gin writes #gins got jokes #shot of gin #gin wrote

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thisapplepielife · 4 days ago

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Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

This Hog

Eddie circles, and Steve turns his head to follow. It's dizzying, but Steve's used to it by now. The constant yapping. Nattering on about fucking girls, guys, anything that moves.

"I just gotta get outta this town first. Nobody here wants to fuck me now."

Steve laughs. "Don't laugh! It's mighty depressing. My dick might fall off from disuse, Harrington. People are missing out, which means I'm missing out. An accused satanic murderer can only tug on it himself so many times."

Steve bends over, laughing his ass off. Waving his hand to try to get Eddie to stop.

"Like, who doesn't want this hog?" Eddie doubles down, cupping his crotch.

Steve can't breathe. He can't.

"Maybe I need one of these legendary rides," Steve banters, catching his breath, wiping at his eyes. He can't remember the last time he laughed so hard he cried.

"I'd rock your world, Harrington," Eddie declares, cocky swagger that Steve finds awfully endearing.

"I'm sure you would, buddy," Steve answers, acting like he's not thinking about it.

He's definitely thinking about it.

It sounds like a dare, and Steve played organized sports. He's done all manner of dumb things just to win bragging rights.

Fucking Eddie? He's definitely curious. He's never been with a man before, but he's fingered himself open a lot, and knows how fucking good that can be. Eddie's dick? That's gotta be better.

"If you think you're man enough, big boy," Eddie crows, and Steve reaches for his belt, enjoying how Eddie's eyes go wide as he stills for the first time all day.

"Really?" Eddie squeaks, and Steve just shrugs. "You're serious?" Eddie probes, pulling his hair over his mouth, like he's suddenly gotten shy.

Why the hell not? Either he'll get fucked, or he'll call Eddie's bluff, winning. He's competitive. Sue him.

Eddie's shirt hits him square in the chest, and Steve grins.

Hell yeah, okay.

He spoke too soon. Legs are suddenly tangled in jeans, as Eddie trips and bounces face-first into Steve's bed. Steve giggles, rolling him onto his back like a high-centered turtle. He'll help. Might be safer that way, and he tugs off both of Eddie's shoes, then his jeans. The right order.

Eddie's laying there in his plaid boxers, and his chest is blotchy and red as his blush creeps up his neck, and Steve thinks someone's gonna get their world rocked, he's just not convinced it's him.

"Rings!" Steve hollers, as a knuckle with a scorpion head or walrus tusk, or whatever the fuck it is, tries to breach him.

"Sorry!" Eddie says, voice going high and nervous, as he tries to remove the offending item. It should slide right off, he's lubed up enough. But he's struggling. Just like he has been since the moment his pants came off, bravado gone.

Steve can't wait for Eddie's trainwreck to find the rails again, and grabs Eddie's wrist, sliding the first two rings off with a firm twisting motion. Three and four slip off easier. He drops them to the carpet and Eddie squawks like a disgruntled bird.

"Do you want to check on your rings or fuck me?" Steve asks, a little bitchy. If Steve were Robin, Eddie'd be racking up tallies in the you suck column. Steve's more forgiving.

"The last one," Eddie says.

"That's what I thought."

Eddie's hands are slightly shaking as he lines up, and Steve tries to relax enough for both of them. He thinks if Eddie meets any resistance he'll melt into a puddle.

He nudges at Steve's loosened hole, and Steve rubs his thigh, "That's really good."

Eddie nods, and manages to pop the head of his cock past that ring of muscle, then slides all the way in. A little fast, but it feels so goddamn good. Steve's full, and he can't wait to be taken apart like this. He's never been on this side, but he's always been curious.

He watches as Eddie trembles, just a little as he pulls back, thrusts once, twice, then tenses, coming.

Steve tries to school his face, but goddamn, was that it?

Eight seconds.

He lasted approximately eight seconds.

Steve is irreparably endeared when Eddie laughs, "Oversold that, huh?"

Just a little.

Steve leans up, pushing his hands into Eddie's hair, "You'll get better next time. You'll last ten, maybe fifteen seconds. Easy."

Eddie laughs, and he's fucking gorgeous for a gremlin.

"Kiss me while we wait," Steve says, and Eddie leans down and only clacks their teeth together once.

His cock slips out, but he replaces it with his fingers. Pushing into Steve's wet hole, and maybe Eddie's stamina needs some work, but everybody starts there. Mindy McMillian probably thought the same thing about him when he lost his virginity.

And Eddie's fingers? They're good, too. Steve tilts his hips, and Eddie brushes against his prostate and Steve lets out a pleased huff.

"That's it, right there."

And Eddie keeps fingering him until Steve comes between them, definitely having no fucking complaints.

They're lounging in the rumpled sheets, when Eddie turns to look at him.

"Wanna know a secret?" Eddie asks, cigarette hanging from his lip, like every cliché Steve's ever seen.

Endearing.

Steve nods.

"I was a virgin," Eddie says, and Steve grins.

"You don't say," Steve answers, and rolls into Eddie as Eddie hits his shoulder, laughing.

"You weren't supposed to know that! You should be shocked!" Eddie says, swinging a leg over Steve's stomach, tilting his head back as he puffs on the cigarette he definitely shouldn't be smoking in the house, but Steve doesn't give a fuck. His mom would have to be home to smell it, and fat fucking chance of that.

He reaches up and snags the cigarette from him, taking a long drag himself. What Robin doesn't know won't hurt her.

He hands it back, "Couldn't even tell."

"You're a fucking liar," Eddie says, and Steve grins, cupping Eddie's ass.

He'll get better. Steve will make sure of it.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

#corrodedcoffinfest #prompt: 8 seconds #eddie munson #steve harrington #thisapplepielife: corrodedcoffinfest #thisapplepielife: short fic #stranger things fic #corrodedcoffinfest: year two #steddie fic #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie stranger things #steddie ficlet #eddie x steve

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dreamdragonkadia · 7 months ago

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p. jackson x hades! reader

Fighting with your half-brother sucked. Fighting with Nico when emotions were running high on both sides? Even worse. And when he pulled that card—“you’re not even my real sister”—it felt like he’d yanked the ground out from under you.

Of course, you knew you couldn’t replace Bianca. You never wanted to. But hearing those words, seeing that fire in his eyes as he said them—it was like he’d reached inside your chest and ripped out something vital. It left you raw and hollow, questioning everything. What was the point of trying, if that’s how Nico really saw you? A failed replacement. A stand-in who didn’t quite fit.

That’s how you ended up here—Cabin Three, face buried in one of Percy’s pillows. You practically slammed the door behind you, barely managing a mumbled “Can I borrow your bed?” before collapsing onto it. Percy hadn’t even blinked, just gave a quiet “Sure” and let you go. Now, here you are, screaming into his pillow like it’s the only thing holding you together, your muffled frustration probably sounding like a strangled walrus.

Percy doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t ask if you’re okay. He just sits down next to you, the bed creaking softly under his weight, and after a moment, his fingers find your hair. Slow, careful, like he’s testing the waters—like he’s afraid he might spook you if he’s not gentle enough. He runs his fingers through the strands, tracing light patterns against your scalp, and somehow, that simple gesture starts to ease the tightness in your chest.

You don’t know how long you lie there, face still buried in his pillow, breathing shaky. Percy doesn’t rush you. Doesn’t fill the silence with empty words or awkward attempts at cheering you up. He just...stays. His hand moves rhythmically, soothing you without trying to fix anything, and it feels like he’s silently saying, I’m here. You don’t have to carry this alone.

Finally, when you’re too drained to keep crying, you whisper into the pillow, “I’m not trying to replace her, you know.” Your voice cracks around the edges, fragile and barely audible, but you don’t think Percy missed it.

His hand pauses for half a second before he resumes, and he hums softly—a sound that says, Keep talking. I’m listening.

“I just...want him to see me,” you continue. “Not as her shadow. Not as a reminder. Just—me.”

There’s a beat of quiet before Percy answers, “Nico’s a stubborn guy,” he says. “He’s been through a lot. That doesn’t excuse what he said, but...he doesn’t mean it. He’s just lashing out. You know that, right?”

You don’t respond because you’re not sure you do know that. Not yet. Percy doesn’t push, doesn’t demand an answer. He just lets the silence settle, broken only by the faint sound of water lapping outside the cabin walls.

“He’ll get there,” Percy says eventually. “He’s not gonna see you like this forever. He can’t. You’re too...you.”

You snort despite yourself. “Too what? Loud? Annoying?”

“Amazing,” he says without hesitation, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You peek up at him, your face still half-smushed into the pillow, and Percy’s wearing that lopsided smile of his. Like he means every word.

Something inside you loosens, just a little, and you finally let out a shaky breath. Percy might not have all the answers, but he knows exactly how to keep you sane, how to make you feel seen when everything else feels too heavy.

“Thanks, Perce,” you mumble, the corners of your mouth twitching up just slightly.

He grins and leans back on his palms. “Anytime.”

#✨️by yours truly✨️#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson x y/n #bookish #percy jackson x you #I just really like writing for percy #even if it's just a random thought of mine

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txttletale · 4 months ago

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not to revive old poll discoures but the thing about the fairy and the walrus is that with the walrus you kind of instantly have to acknowledge it's real, innit? whereas if i saw a fairy i would immediately assume i'm hallucinating/dreaming/being pranked and would carry on with this belief well into whatever interaction we end up having. like as an abstract, "the existence of fairies" is obviously more shocking than "a walrus has found its way outside your house" but if you were actually faced with that situation surely you would not immediately jump to "oh i guess fairies are actually real!" right?

#tattletxt

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existential-squid · 1 year ago

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Reblog for a larger sample size, if convenient.

#nonbinary fashion #nonbinary #transmasc #transfem #gender neutral clothing #shitpost #tumblr polls #my polls #poll #androgynous #transgender #androgyny #trans

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vulgarmaw · 9 months ago

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Back on the walrus fairy post because I saw another one.

It would be like: which is more surprising?

A stranger knocking on your door?

An internet friend you've never met, who doesn't know where you live, who is at least in a different time zone, has never seen your face, doesn't even know your gender, knocking on your door?

Like one of those is way more confusing and takes way more to understand because it's not just happenstance.

If a fairy knocked on my door it's like "Oh, fairies are real and one of them was near my house." it's impersonal.

If a walrus knocked on my door I gotta know why. I have to know if it's intelligent enough to know what knocking means. Does it have a grudge? How did it get to my house?

Sure someone you essentially know knocking seems like it should be logical, they know you of course they're here. But you didn't invite them, you didn't tell them who you were, you didn't say your address, it's not a random knocking person. This is someone with intent choosing to knock on your door.

The walrus knocking on your door, since you know it's a real creature, would need a reason to knock on your door.

A fairy just needs to exist.

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katmaibearfan · 2 months ago

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New To The Bear Cams? Start Here!

This is not a complete guide -- check my pinned post for more in-depth information! My Bear Terminology I Use and My Tagging System Explainer posts are both going to be helpful for people seeking more information.

So, like, how do the cams work?

First, a link to the bear cams, so you know where to find them. Next -- there are many cameras located around Brooks River, and there is a handy labeled map here. There are six main bear cameras -- three cameras near the waterfall, Brooks Falls (BF), Brooks Falls Low (BLF) and Riffles (RF), and three cams downriver, Kat's River View (KRV), River Watch (RW), and the Underwater Salmon Cam (UW). In addition, there is a camera on Dumpling Mountain (DM) that has a lovely view of the whole Brooks Camp area, and a camera on the Naknek River (NR) that sees beautiful sunsets during bear season and beluga whales in the off season! You can switch between these cams by clicking on the one you want to move to -- they're located under the livestream you're currently watching.

The cameras are controlled remotely by volunteer camera operators for Explore, called CamOps. They do not read chat during their shifts, so don't tag them in anything or try to tell them what to do. They are trained, they have guidelines they must follow, and they have a lot of experience doing this -- the Katmai CamOp positions at Explore are highly coveted, and they have to work on other wildlife cams for a while before they are allowed to work the Katmai cams. They'll post in chat when the shift changes, so give them a heartfelt "thank you!" for donating their time to let us see all the lovely things these bears have to offer!

The cams are hosted on Explore.org, which has so many other livestreams! i only really frequent the Katmai Cams, but I do pop in to check on the Walrus and Puffin cams from time to time! Though you don't need an account to watch any of the cams, I highly suggest making one -- especially if you want to take snapshots! If you are logged in, any snapshots you take will automatically be saved to your gallery on explore, so you don't even have to download anything!

In addition, being logged in means you can comment in the chat underneath the livestream, though you can view comments without an account. This is helpful for lots of reasons, but especially for identifying bears and getting answers to any questions you might have. Don't be anxious, come say hi -- We're all here because we love these bears, and we're always happy to see new faces! There are a few folks in the explore chat who are incredibly good at identifying bears. Genuinely, I am an amateur, and a lot of the IDs I post here are crowdsourced from them.

The shape of the season

June is when the cams turn on, and it's quiet -- the bears are returning to the area after hibernation, so they're still sleepy, and the salmon haven't arrived yet. Sows that gave birth over the winter will return with their brand new spring cubs, and sows who enter into estrus will emancipate any cubs they have. It's also mating season (more on that later), which means fighting, playing, courting, and mating are all common. Oh, and the bears will generally look skrungled -- this is because they are shedding out of their winter coats and into their summer ones.

July is hectic -- the salmon arrive, and with them, a ton of activity. The run comes in pulses, slowly increasing in size and frequency until it hits a crescendo and then tapers off again. You can expect up to 30 bears to be at the falls during the peak, all feasting on the hundreds of thousands of salmon that descend upon the river! As the summer days in Alaska are very long -- Katmai peaks at about 18 hours and 20 minutes of daylight on the solstice -- you can find active bears on the cams essentially whenever during this time. Most subadults and sows with young cubs stay in the lower river because it is less crowded, and therefore safer. Up at the falls, you can expect to see lots of boars and single sows, with the boars frequently arguing and fighting over the best fishing spots.

August is quiet again. The salmon are almost completely gone, so many bears leave to go fish elsewhere -- "August Walkabouts", we call them -- and some bears who leave during this time may not come back again until next season. The ones who stick around spend their days fishing what they can, playing, and resting after the chaotic, salmon-filled month they just had.

September is the Fall Feast -- the bodies of the salmon who have spawned and died begin floating downriver. These salmon are not as nutritious as the ones caught in July, but they are still food, so the bears do still eat them. Many (but not all) bears return from their walkabouts, and other bears appear for their first visit of the season. Most of the action here is in the lower river, where you may see some bears diving for fish. Its still slower and less crowded than July, but its more activity than in August.

October sees the end of the fall feast, and the beginning of hibernation season. The bears who are still around will mostly just be chilling & hanging out. there could be some epic nap sessions, or late-season playing. Subadults and Sows with cubs will be the first to go to den, followed by sows without cubs, and finally the boars. Also, October is generally when Fat Bear Week happens, so keep an eye out for that!

By early November, most of the bears will have gone to den, the cams will shut off, and a season of bear watching will conclude once more.

Coat Changes

The bears will, broadly speaking, start the summer much lighter than they end up being by the time fall rolls around. As a result, many bears will look totally different in June than they do in September. Some bears, like 128 Grazer, may only darken a bit or darken unevenly, but others like 903 Gully or 131 Marshmallow will darken a lot. This change will happen slowly, over the course of the summer. This means that bears that stay around for August are pretty easy to track through these coat changes, but bears who leave and then come back in September can be tricky to identify if you aren't familiar with what their fall coat looks like.

If you want to know what a specific bear looks like in early summer vs fall, I suggest looking through my tag for them and taking note of the dates on the post. All bears are tagged by their number, and separately by their nickname (if they have one). For example, 131 Marshmallow is tagged both "#bear131" and "#marshmallow", but 856 is just tagged "#bear856".

Bear Pregnancy, Mating, and Cubs

Cubs are born in mid-winter, roughly late January to early February, while their mother is hibernating. They are very small when they are born, about 1 pound (0.45kg). By the time we see them on the cams, they have already done quite a lot of growing!

But how do we end up with cubs? Well, its quite different from human pregnancy! Mating season is in June, and during this time you will likely see boars following after sows. A sow in estrus gives off pheromones that alert boars to their presence, and boars who are interested will begin following that scent. This courting chase can last for quite a while -- sometimes up to a week -- with the boar following close behind the sow. Sometimes a sow may even approach a boar, seemingly asking him to follow her.

Sows and boars both will mate with multiple partners during mating season, and though some particularly dominant boars may attempt to keep a particular sow from mating with anyone else for the duration of her estrus period, they usually are not successful. As a result, cubs from the same litter may have different fathers!

Though mating season is in June, a phenomena known as delayed implantation means that sows don't actually "become pregnant" until after they go to den for the winter -- and only if they have enough fat stored for them and their potential cubs to survive the whole ordeal. In addition, heavier sows tend to give birth to larger litters, with the largest sows having litters of up to 4 cubs!

Fighting

There's gonna be bear fights. Sometimes the bear fights get nasty. Usually, the bear fights are between adults, most often boars, but adult boars do sometimes attack, and occasionally kill, cubs. You can see my trigger tag policy here.

For the livecams themselves, though -- CamOps will not shy away from violence. In fact, you can generally expect them to focus on violence when it happens, so if you see a fight starting and don't want to see it, you should probably move to a different camera! While many fights between adults end with "only a few scratches" (which may still be big enough to scar), some fights will end with nasty looking injuries that can leave big, lasting, nasty scars -- which the biggest boars often end up covered in by their old age.

It is often helpful to keep in mind that these fights are part of their life. It is how brown bears are. Big injuries can look really nasty, but they are bears, and they are built to survive these things. Cub deaths are always deeply sad to us humans, especially when they happen on camera or at the hands of a well-loved boar, but they are also normal and expected -- only roughly half of cubs at Katmai survive, and you must be ready to confront this fact if you want to watch the bear cams.

In Conclusion

I'll add to this post as I think of more stuff, other things to link to, etc. Oh, and welcome to the bear cam community, we're very happy to have you join us!

#to be pinned later

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meowrimo · 3 months ago

Text

˖˙ ꔫ — ELEMENT OF SURPRISE ˚

꒰ synopsis : another day, another celebration with the straw hats but this time, the truth begins to creep out as zoro begins to let loose. ꒱

꒰ content : zoro roronoa x reader ; alcohol use (zoro is drinking a cup of sake), use of the term “pretty girl”, fluff — WC : 1.9k ꒱

꒰ Whispers of the Wind anthology ꒱

The wispy chill of the fading twilight’s salty breeze brushes across your face, along the cheeks that were warm with the glow of celebration — another party amongst the Straw Hats that left your heart feeling full.

There was no telling exactly what they were celebrating this time around but judging by the spread on the table, it was because someone had caught a huge fish.

Which of course meant Sanji had to pull out all the stops — heaping trays full of colorful appetizers and bottomless cups of booze flitting around the deck of the Sunny that was drumming with a buzz of joy and laughter only the captain could summon up.

It was quite the sight to see.

Soundlessly stalking up beside you with the quiet lethality of a tiger, Zoro’s arm lazily wraps around your shoulders. It was a welcomed weight, a subtle show of how comfortable the swordsman was by your side and the notion made your heart swell.

“Hey.” His voice is gruff but his chest is warm as he mindlessly pulls you closer to it. A homey hearth with a tiny flame of affection that would spark to life whenever he had just a mere drop of alcohol in his system.

The liquid courage made the walls around his heart wobbly, his actions becoming more fluid than they normally would be on a regular basis.

You lived for leisurely times like these.

“Hi, Zo,” You smile sweetly, looking up at him. Your breath almost hitches at the heavenly sight. His unfairly long lashes sweep across his cheek as he blinked down at you with his steely eye. Involuntarily, you touch his chiseled jaw, tracing along the sharp lines as his pointed gaze stays on you. He remains unmoving but you swore you heard the slightest hitch in his breath. Maybe the alcohol affected you in the same way. “Having fun?”

“Now I am.” A satisfied smirk droops across his face before he takes a sip of his drink. It was always easy to see the love that Zoro held in his heart if you knew where to look.

His eye always gave him away.

The sparkle of joy that twinkled like the north star in the otherwise dark and cloudy sky, one filled with the hope of tomorrow and a contentment that is only brought on by being surrounded with the people you can truly let your guard down around.

Zoro didn’t give his feelings up freely, but after a while, he didn’t really need to. Not only were you an expert at reading the stoic swordsman, but the others also became more attune to him as well. Something you’re almost sure he’s never had before he joined Luffy on the journey that changed the trajectory of his life.

“Why don’t we go join them?” You nod over to where Luffy and Usopp are playing a game on the deck, laughing and goofing off together. You wince as Lufffy shoved sticks in his mouth to resemble a walrus and started running circles around a scrambling Usopp — Chopper now in tow and squealing after them.

“Those idiots?” He raises an eyebrow but the glint in his eye tells you everything you need to know. Zoro gives your shoulders an extra squeeze. “Nah, I'm right where I want to be.”

The honest words strike your heart, something said so effortlessly yet leaves you with warming cheeks that rivals the sake that burns down your throat.

“You’re an idiot too, you know.” You can’t help but poke back at him, trying to calm your ever racing heart. But there was no way he didn’t notice the sudden uptick in its beat.

“We all are.” He scoffs amused, “Why else would we join this crew?”

“Fair." The wind picks up and you find yourself burrowing into Zoro's strong side a little more, his arm tightening around you protectively. “We might as well enjoy the show then.”

“Now you’re talkin’.”

The warmth of Zoro’s palm ghosts along your lower back as he leads you to the nearby bench, settling in next to you as you take a seat. The laughter and music from the deck fades away into something softer as you two tuck yourselves away on the outskirts of the celebrations.

Wordlessly, he shifts even closer, so close that the distinct whiff of sea, steel, and sake greets your nose, a scent that never failed to ground you in this ever changing world.

With a subtle, yet almost teasing smile, Zoro glances down at you for a brief moment before covering the delicate curl of his lip with his trusty cup of sake, using it to veil the deep effect you undoubtedly had on him. The hand that kissed your back finds your hip after sliding around your waist and pulling you until you’re flush against him.

The fleeting glance turns away from you, dousing you with a chill from the loss of his warmth. Even though he watches the crew with his everwatchful eye, it’s clear by the firm grip on your side that his attention is here with you.

And you couldn’t stop staring at him.

Something must’ve happened because in the next moment, Zoro barked out a laugh. The kind that takes your whole body to enforce, bubbling and bursting from somewhere deep inside, after having been choked down for so long, finally free to meld into the night air and ease a hidden weight off of his sturdy shoulders.

The usual sharp lines of his features grew dreamlike as a wide smile stretched along his face and you swore you could count all of his teeth. The force of the laugh shook you slightly, encouraging you to join him even though you didn’t really have a clue on what he was laughing at.

But it didn’t matter.

“What?” Zoro’s attention flits back to you, looking down and raising an eyebrow with a slight smirk resting on his handsome features.

“Nothing.” You pause, letting the words marinate in the sweetness of your tongue just a little bit longer, letting it melt into honey before it effortlessly spills from your lips. “I just missed seeing you smile.”

“Oi, don’t give me that crap.” His cheeks dusted pink, blooming all the way to the tips of his ears, leaving a speckle of warmth that you can’t help but find endearing. Even as he scowled, he still managed to leave you breathless.

“Well, you asked.” You fire back, trying to maintain some semblance of control in the exchange that you were quickly falling victim to.

“Well, I didn’t think you’d get all sappy on me.” Zoro takes another swig, some of the sake dribbling down his chin. Transfixed, you watch as the droplet flows down his skin, clinging along his cheek. The sight ushers in a sense of envy as the liquid kisses in places you could only hope to.

“You must not know me very well then.” You tease, fingers twitching to clean it up but his tongue beats you to the punch. The motion has you licking your own lips, a single swipe that does not go unnoticed by the swordsman.

“No, I know you.” The seriousness in his voice almost stopped your heart. The previous banter subsided into a distant dream as reality washed all over you. Now, it was your turn to be flustered.

“Oh stop.” You dismissively wave your hand in the air and he’s quick to catch it, the glass of sake he was holding in his hand was now resting beside him on the bench, the motion happening so quickly you didn't even see.

“I'm serious.” Zoro pauses for a moment, his grip loosening. Instinctively, your hold tightens as your body tenses, your breath trapped in your lungs as you listen intently. “I know you better than anyone else on this ship. Hell, maybe even the world.”

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure?”

“Because I don't forget anything when it comes to you. Everything you say or do stays in my brain. I've known you long enough that I know your tells for whenever you’re not feeling well. How your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes or when you nervously play with your fingers as you try to find a way to speak up.” The pads of his fingers touch yours, spreading them out before they slide along them, interlocking with yours. “I know you.”

“I didn't know you paid that much attention to me.” You murmur as he drops your hand, the loss feeling too great as your own retreats back into your lap. Zoro takes his glass and polishes off the rest of the sake that was responsible for his loose lips. For a man who said he never had a way with words, he’d have his moments where time seemed to stop, that every word he uttered had a gravitational pull that lured you in.

“You’re hard to miss.” He sighed a bit, muttering under his breath. “Impossible to ignore.”

The tidal wave of shock passes over you, leaving you drenched in his honesty. Was it a trick of fate that had your faces pulling together, gazes set on the others lips? Or was it a whirlwind of desire that pushed you forward, the universe begging for the collision that would become a catalyst against the world?

“Ma bien-aimée!” Sanji interrupted with a smile on his face and hearts in his eyes. The sudden emergence of the chef had you jumping back and away from the swordsman, your heart threatening to thump out of your chest and spill out onto the wooden deck floor. “Can I get you another drink? Or perhaps a snack?”

Before you have a chance to catch your breath and answer, Zoro lets out a low huff beside you, muscles tensing under the strain of his annoyance with the cook that never failed to drive him up the wall.

“Oi, eyebrows.” Zoro leveled a glare, one that Sanji quickly matched, his eye narrowing at the man before him. The energy around the three of you grew tense in a heartbeat, an effect you’re used to whenever these two were in close proximity to each other. “Don’t you have something better to do than bother us?”

“I wasn't talking to you.” Sanji snapped back, his attention on you never wavering. “I was talking to the one who is always happy to see me.”

Zoro grumbled something under his breath, no doubt another insult resting at the tip of his tongue, tainted by a swirl of jealousy that not even the booze could wash down.

“It's okay, Sanji. I don't need anything right now but thank you.” You smile, trying to diffuse the tension that was steadily building like a ticking time bomb ready to implode.

“Anything for you my sweet, but don’t let this big green oaf squander your desires.” Sanji moved a little closer, causing Zoro's eye to twitch. “What would you like?”

The swordsman couldn’t hold back anymore, his swords drawn with the speed that only Sanji could pull from him whenever they quarrel. The cook was more than ready, countering with a kick of his own.

The two continued to fight, a flurry of limbs in front of you. Across the deck, you make eye contact with Nami and give her an exasperated look before getting up and making your way over to her.

There was no way you were going to entertain one of their spats, the two lost in their own world for a little while as you mourn the lost moment you could’ve had with the swordsman who’s been steadily claiming your heart.

thank you for reading !!! :3

#feeling a lil rusty eeep !! enjoy :3 #◟˚. ☁️ ⋆ daydreams.#zoro x reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #zoro x you #one piece x you

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