#*ੈ✎ stories

[aezuria]

*ੈ✎ xoxo, gossip girl!

content: leo valdez x reader, percy jackson x reader, jason grace x reader

╰┈▸ back cover: how would gossip sessions with them go?

warnings: cursing, rude humor??

librarian's annotations: doing this instead of requests um

*ੈ LEO VALDEZ

SASSY MAN APOCALYPSE

god hes probably talking shit more than u

"oh her? yeah she was such a bitch like no way she looked at you like that when i said i was so obviously taken!"

"and her hair? has she ever heard of a brush? like, if you're gonna come at my girlfriend, at least make yourself look better so you don't embarrass yourself. oh wait, you can't!"

probably laying on you as he does this, and starts squeezing you tightly

"because my girlfriend is the prettiest girl in the world!"

awww that's cute right?

WRONG this man is so quick with his comebacks its actually insane

does NOT think before he speaks

doesnt hold back, even against you (booo why did ur gf privileges not apply to that)

"leo! can you like, move your fat ass off me?" you groan under him as he lays down with his dead weight on top of you.

"like the fat ass you don't have?"

were you silent or SILENCED

everytime you think he wouldnt take it that far?? oh he will go THERE (but he always makes sure u know hes joking)

doesnt want to invoke your wrath so he apologizes IMMEDIATELY

"fix your hair-"

"fix your face- IM SORRY I DIDNT MEAN TO-"

*ੈ PERCY JACKSON

guys. we cant forget abt the OG SASSY MAN

also talking shit a whole lot more than he should

"uh, she needs to get her act together before she can start coming at others; like-" rolls his eyes for EMPHASIS "who does she think she is, talking to you like that?"

damn, who taught this man sass?

bro was BORN with it or smth

even outsasses you sometimes

if you tell him to get like a snack or something and hes in the mood to just lay down with you, he will huff SO loudly

"ugh, fine!"

gets you extra snacks anyway in case you want more (and drinks obviously)

SO SO INVESTED like he has the WHOLE story down

but sometimes mixes up the ppl if its been a while

"wait wait, so the library girl and the jock are dating?"

"the nerd and the library girl are dating, but the jock wanted library girl."

"that makes a lot of sense, actually."

has tea of his OWN because the sea knows everything apparently

"tobias told me-" percy started.

"who the fuck is tobias?"

"the turtle, duh. anyway, he said that this guy always takes girls to the beach on their first date, to make them fall in love with him or something. like, every single girl he's dated."

"...does that count as a manipulation tactic?"

*ੈ JASON GRACE

will be on your side no matter what

like if you end it with an "it is what it is"

um??? it is NOT what it is hello?

doesnt look like hes listening but hes paying attention to EVERYTHING

like hes "reading" a book but hes been on the same page for the entire time youve been talking

tries not to laugh at your rather creative insults, but sometimes you get a soft chuckle out of him

you take that as a win

once, you caught him listening through the door as you gossiped with piper over the phone

he was SO embarrassed omg

after that, you made sure to tell him all the tea as soon as you have it

"—and he cheated on her with her SISTER. who's like, three years younger than him! like, what the fuck? that's not even all he did!" you sit up, hands playing with the blanket. you think you see him lean a bit closer, as if wanting to hear more. "she fucked his brother in his room, like, her ex boyfriend's room for revenge! okay, that was a bitch move, but was it deserved?"

jason shrugged. "i'd say no one deserves to be cheated on, but he kinda did deserve it."

"exactly!"

[fear-is-truth]

dug up an old sketch i did after watching murder house a couple of years ago.

[workingbynyx]

Could you write some Loki x reader crack? Could be based off this incorrect quote idk lol

Y/N: Bro-

Loki: No, no, hold up, rewind.

Loki: My tongue was down in your throat just a second ago and now you're calling me bro??

"I Beg Your Biggest Pardon?" — Loki x GN!Reader Oneshot

↷ summary — you've just finished a heated session with the God of Mischief (or stories...👀) himself, and you're calling him what now? ˎˊ˗

↷ pairing — loki x gn!readerˎˊ˗

↷ genre — crack, oneshot (based off of given prompt!) ˎˊ˗

↷ warning/s — none! ˎˊ˗

↷ a/n — omg i love this, i feel like s1!loki or ragnarok loki would most definitely react like this so what i'm gonna be doing is basing him off of those in this fic hihihi and can we just talk about loki in this gif i found ?!@?#* (also i am absolutely so sorry if this fic is shorter than some of my works! T_T) ˎˊ˗

"No bro listen–" loki's head snapped towards you, "I...i beg your pardon?" he interrupted in whatever you were arguing about for the past 10 minutes. he didn't seem to remember what it was about not when you just called him...'bro'. "what? I'm just saying I've been living in the compound for years and tony nor bruce can't build me one of those restaurant robots but willingly build another armored suit? That's unfair y'know!" you protested. "my love, as much as i truly understand your frustrations. i wish to know what did you just call me?" loki's eyes studied yours, it wasn't hard to avoid his deep gaze— the two of you were basically tangled up against each other on your couch.

"called you what?" you asked, tilting your head slightly. "just mere seconds ago, you called me something i didn't quite catch" loki's mischievous nature came into play as he began to lean closer, his eyes slightly squinting the more you seem to play innocent. "...oh" your knitted brows softened at the realization. "darling, my tongue was down your throat moments ago and now you're calling me..bro?" the corners of his lips slowly curled into a smirk. "i was talking fast my love— force of habit!" you exclaimed.

"very well, perhaps i should have you remember who i am to you then?" his eyes drop down to your lips to which you smacked his arm for. "you dirty little man" says you. "i'm a God" he continues. "whatever" you added with a laugh. "fine, but it is well established i'm more than a 'bro' aren't i?" loki suddenly asked, obviously taunting you. "okay okay i admit to my mistake, can we drop it now?" you playfully frowned, earning a chuckle from him. "as you wish, my love"

[unhetalia]

England headcanons (pt. 1):

Chain-smokes like a motherfucker. Alfred, who doesn't smoke and pretends very hard to think smoking is disgusting, hasn't yet realised where his secret smoking kink comes from.

Currently works for British Intelligence/has infiltrated his own government.

Carries around either a cane or umbrella that hides a sword even though he has never ONCE had to use it. He just feels more comfortable having a sword. (He does also carry around a gun, which, in contrast, has been used often.)

Also carries around his own pen, and absolutely loathes the thought of using someone else's. The pen is a first edition Michel Perchin Serpent in Champagne LE Fountain Pen given to him by Alfred - only ten were ever made and it cost a cool 8k. While Arthur has more valuable things - especially from his time as a pirate and back when he personally knew his royal family - the pen is still one of his most prized possessions.

His favourite tea is actually French Earl Grey - which is Earl Grey with rose petals. Not actually French? But Arthur's still pretty annoyed about it.

As mentioned in a few of my other posts - Arthur is incredibly physical and has kept up with sword fighting and various martial arts over the years, and regularly goes to the gym. He's very disciplined about it.

Tends to eat only for fuel as opposed to enjoyment whenever he's left to his own devices.

If pressed, Arthur will admit his best friend is Francis. Francis would say the same about Arthur.

(Despite their individual body counts, Francis and Arthur have never slept with each other.)

(Arthur doesn't have a lot of friends and has a strained relationship with his siblings, and has always felt that people don't like spending time with him. Even when he was on top of the world, working with his government to become an Empire, he still felt like an underdog.)

On that note, Arthur worked with his government longer than the other Nations, and was a huge part of establishing the British Empire. It made his already fraught relationship with his siblings even worse, and he regrets a lot of it.

Nations get scars very rarely, because very few things have the ability to give them scars - magical weapons is one of those things. Out of all the Nations, England has the most scars.

England is amazing at knitting and crochet, and he gifts Francis crocheted figurines from French cartoons for his birthday every year, which Francis adores. He also knits Canada scarves and gloves and beanies whenever he remembers him.

One of Arthur's most embarrassing memories is getting gonorrhea during his pirate days. He didn't have sex for a month after his healing kicked in - a record back then - and he became a lot more diligent in procuring and using the linen sheaths they used as condoms at the time.

Three of Arthur's back molars are implants made of real gold.

Alfred is the first (and last) person Arthur will say he's ever fallen in love with BUT the closest he's come is with another American - a nurse that took care of him during World War I. She was blonde and blue eyed and once shouted Arthur down when he insisted on continuing to fight even with a bullet lodged in his shoulder. She completely disappeared in April 1917, just before the Americans officially joined the war. He sometimes wonders what happened to her.

[oletus-manors-log]

Hey! I just wanted to say I love your work and your recent Orpheus drabble was super good! I was wondering if you could do a short story about Orpheus confessing to the survivor!reader? (GN) I understand that short story’s might take longer then headcanons and dabbles, so please take as much time as you need! Thanks again 🫶

OBSERVER'S NOTE :

“ Hello, and thank you so much for the compliment for my recent work on Orpheus! As for the confession, I believe I can make it work with the headcannons I have listed in the past.

I'm not too sure if there's anything else you'd like for me to add with the story, so I decided to make it happen in a... Special match. Although it can be a terrible place to confess... Well, sometimes it can work out in your favor. ”

Golden Hour

The match, needless to say, was a mess.

Orpheus couldn't tell whether he regretted having to come in because he's up against himself (or, really, what he sees himself as), or the fact that he's seeing the slow descent of the match after the first 60 second chair.

As he saw the raven bird chase after the enchantress and with the journalist on her second chair, he stuck to decoding in wedding hall. The pallets were thrown in advance by him, so it would make things easier.

Since the progress wasn't done before he arrived, he had done quick work on decoding it. Although, he didn't seem to notice when someone else joined him during the halfway mark of the cipher, one cipher actually done and Alice rescued off of it.

"Seems like you're struggling over there, aren't you?"

He flinched and looked over towards the speaker, noticing that it was Alice. Ah, she was patched up— good, that means that someone rescued her.

"Perhaps," he said idly, focusing his attention on the cipher machine before it malfunctioned and electrocuted him. "But it isn't like miss Dorval is struggling against him. She's been kiting for us and you're on your last legs after being chaired twice."

Alice shakes her head as she turned the knobs of the machine.

"I'll be fine. I'll just have to stay out of sight for the time being— it can't be that hard, can't it?"

... Hm, she only has one film left, he noted, sparing a glance at the camera. She will have to make sure he doesn't catch her— her mirages of me when I was younger is... Quite a feat. It could keep him distracted if such a miracle can happen.

[ Beware! The hunter has changed target! ]

The two looked up as a crow flies over to their cipher. Orpheus shoves Alice off of it so it would fly over to the novelist, sprinting like a madman to the pallet to vault and start running out.

"Keep decoding!"

He ran straight to the church, feeling smoke permeate the air as it swirled and manifested behind him. The sound of a deafening thud echoed as Nightmare, their hunter of the match, appeared behind him, causing him to falter if not for the reminder that he would be killed if he stayed standing.

"I did not expect for you to take it instead of miss DeRoss, Orpheus," spoke the nightmarish entity as it chased him, footsteps thundering as the novelist sprinted to the window to vault. "Why? Are you trying to relive the feeling of a good chase from the past?"

Truly, he fits the name and title for himself— Nightmare, the novelist thought bitterly. It's almost like he was "invited" to haunt the poor novelist even in (metaphorically, of course) death.

"I believe we both know why. I don't wish for her to die in this match after you targeted her."

"Hm? But why not? It's quite... Amusing, is it not?" He scoffed, his gaze focused on him as the novelist continued to keep distance, making sure to break out of line of sight from the latter so he can't focus on him. "For her to take your place after she was grown, after you went missing—"

"I don't want to be reminded of that incident."

"Oh, I know that. But you'd know better than for me to let it go, would you?"

Ah, he should have known. Why the hell would he let it go, hm?

Instead of replying, he went through a pallet— this time, passing by someone he didn't expect.

SLAM!

"Go!"

He felt the wind push him as he turned to see a certain survivor stunning the looming hunter, attire ragged despite wearing it for God knows how long. He could only whisper a "good luck" as he sprinted to the window, vaulting over it before running off.

The only thing he could hear from outside of the church was the aggravated yell of Nightmare, followed by daring taunts that he could recognize all too well.

... You never change, do you? Ever the daredevil, he thought with a chuckle, this time sprinting to another cipher to decode.

Despite the mishaps from before, Orpheus could see that it proceeded as smoothly as it possibly could, considering the bird had his sights on you and not the novelist. Unfortunately for Nightmare, you were one of the few that never saw danger as one to be feared.

In the survivor faction, you were a force to be reckoned with; someone with such a job that can spell trouble to those whose never heard of it.

Your occupation was of a trickster, one assigned like the Acrobat and the Weeping Clown if it weren't for your malicious streak. Reckoned by many hunters as a "hunter in a survivor's body", you were called by many as a horseman of chaos, bringing about destruction in your wake.

So far, only few had managed to keep you down, but even the novelist knew you would find a way to make them regret their misdeeds.

Truthfully. Orpheus feared you. Unlike him, you saw danger akin to a pet, and not once did he understood what makes you tick. But perhaps, much like your occupation, you live your life in constant terror.

The way your eyes gleam as you evade Nightmare's attacks was one of such cases, and he couldn't help but fathom on how you look so... Alive.

... So free.

Alas, it had been the last cipher and he had it primed. Nightmare had already chaired you once, but by some miracle, Alice had got you out of the chair and you were kiting the man like your life depended on it. And, well, it did— you were keeping Alice from being chaired the third time as both of you were injured.

But it didn't last long when he saw the crow fly over to his cipher, and he could hear the ping from you and Alice that he's switching targets.

Back to me, I suppose.

Pulling away from the cipher, he pinged that it was primed and started sprinting, hearing the wind pull itself and manifest the living terror in his waking life. To him, he saw the man as one of monstrosity, whereas most cannot see it that way. It terrified him that only a few, such as him, can see the raven for what he is.

Swiftly getting hit with the sharp tip, he stumbled from the window he was about to vault, causing yet another deep gash to form on his back. He gritted in pain as he felt blood seep through and taint his white coat, coating it in crimson.

—And then, the two could hear the deafening pop.

Thus, the sirens follow, and mark the 'endgame' of their match.

With the sudden boost of adrenaline, he sped off, his legs screaming as he heard Nightmare's ghoulish calls. Still, he paid no heed as he looked back, constantly pinging the rest of his team of Nightmare's ventures.

Detention... A trait that no man or monster understood. Miss Nightingale briefed everyone on it when they first came here, and he still recall what she told to their group.

Detention is a trait that every hunter possesses— a trait that, when activated, causes the hunter to give into the carnal desires to kill any survivor in its wake.

No one understood how to counter it. If anything, all they can do was run. Run until they were sure that it was safe.

For those who do not will be slaughtered in its wake.

Reaching the open gates, he could hear your calls as you yelled for him to get out— that you would cover for him.

His eyes widened at this. At the state of Nightmare and with Detention of all things, the last thing he'd want is for you to be slaughtered instead of him.

He cannot have that. He won't have that. Over his dead corpse.

"No!" he yelled, yanking your wrist when you went back to bodyblock for him, pulling you forward with such strength that many do not think he would have the capability to posses. "Go! Get out, now!"

With one last curse to have Nightmare go through such pain, you and the others got out, leaving the deserted church and the cries of Nightmare in the wake of a survivor's win.

After the stressful match, he had to go to Emily as he was still injured from Nightmare. Despite the adrenaline for when the last cipher was popped, he felt the fatigue crash on him hard after they had left, and he didn't want to deal with Emily getting (justifiably) upset at his own recklessness.

Although, there was another reason on why he had to go to Emily. It was for something else... Something that he wanted to speak to her about. Alone.

"... I see," Emily murmured, currently patching up Orpheus's back with a few stitches. Checking for other injuries, she sighed, facing the novelist with a knowing look in her eye.

"I don't wish to undermine your efforts, Orpheus, but they're... Well, they live up to their occupation. Are you sure you'd want to look for them? Even I'm not sure on where they have went off to this time."

Orpheus chuckled, giving her a smile as he answered, "I'm sure. I believe I know my limits, miss Dyer. After all, I have dealt with them the longest, have I not?"

You were... A mystery to him. Something that needed to be solved. Despite how long you and him were, in the lack of terms, friends... He never really knew the answer for his question since he's known you.

Just what it is that makes you so interesting to him?

"I suppose you'd be right on that," Emily replied, shaking her head as she wrapped the bandages around his waist. "Well, I believe they went to Moonlit River Park. I tried to ask why, but all they said was that they have a show to prepare and didn't want to be late."

Tying it off right afterwards, she dug through her pockets and handed Orpheus a note. The paper was yellow and worn, but he could recognize the handwriting peeking out... Couple with a few scribbles. You were always fond of drawing in your notes, he noticed.

"Here," she said, smiling exasperatedly. "They also wanted me to give you this. Now, don't strain yourself too much, okay?"

With a nod, the brunette took the note and bid his goodbyes to the doctor, leaving the clinic. He walked down the hall, opening the note that she gave him to see what you wrote for him.

In the note, it reads...

Hello, hello, mister novelist! Surprised to get a note from yours truly, are you? ☆

Now, now... I know you must be wondering where I went! And you know me well by now, Orpheus— I am not one to give such a straight answer. Why, if I am, I'd certainly lose the title of being a 'trickster', wouldn't I?

Anyway, I'd like to play a... Game with you. How does hide and seek sound? It'd be like those we play in matches. Ah, but with less killing, of course.

I want you to find me. The doctor already told me where I am, so I implore you, Orpheus—

"—find me, and find the piece I seek."

... A peculiar note indeed.

Now, he was no detective. Unlike Alice, he never dabbled quite well into detective work; he used to do that if he needed first hand experience on writing a thriller book. However, with the manor hosting various events that does consist of solving mysteries...

Well. He cannot say that he didn't have experience on dealing with them in his downtime.

Checking the back of the note, he raised an eyebrow at the sight of the note. From an unobservant eye, they'd chalk it off as something normal. But to him, he knew you enough to have something hidden in an ordinary object.

Raising up the note against the light, he hummed at the sight, reading the note more clearly.

Big tent.

...

How cheeky.

Rolling his eyes out of amusement, he lowered the note and trudged on to Moonlit River Park. This time... He has a date, and he isn't going to be late.

Arriving at the big tent of Moonlit River Park, he can see the sight of the thrown pallets around and some abandoned attractions on stage. The basement was sealed, so he assumed that it would be open on the two story building.

What was it? Hullabaloo? He should to check the name again when he sees it.

Walking on the stairs of the stage, he inspected the entire tent, noticing the sight of a note plastered on the wall. It was the same as the letter he retrieved from Emily, so he had no hesitation to take it.

Checking the front of the note, he red through what you wrote this time.

If you found this note, then I was right to put my faith in you, Orpheus. You know my tricks enough to figure out where my note was lying about, huh? Maybe I should up the ante of this game of ours...

Haha! I'm kidding, of course. Why would I? It'd be terrible if your 2nd hint is in a place you can't find so easily.

Anyway, to find where it is, the answer is what you're reading. If you're confused or, mayhaps, lost... Read it again. You'll see what I mean.

... See? What in the world...

His brows furrowed as he red through the note again. There was something in those words, and if he can take your statement for what it is...

...

Rereading through it again, he can see a pattern. From your writing, it was hard to tell, but there were letters that are emphasized more than others.

... I'm at 2nd stop. Hah, how cheeky of you.

Tucking the note away, he left the stage and raised one of the flaps, running out of it. The faint chime of the circus music echoed around the map, haunting yet nostalgic for those that have witnessed its glory. For Orpheus, though, that brought some... Awful memories of his losses there.

... Ah, he can't be reminiscing now. He needn't remember what happened in one of his visits here.

Reaching the other side of the large map, he could see a bird perched up on the rails, perking up to see the novelist arriving by the stairs. With a chirp, the blue bird flew to him, its claws carrying another letter.

Whispering a 'thanks' to the bird, he watched it fly off before opening the third letter in his hands.

Moonlit River Park is a beautiful place, isn't it? Regardless of what many may think, the circus holds a special place in my heart. Such a shame that the tragedy has ruined it for what it's worth...

... Such is beauty, I suppose. The manor holds such unique yet curious people, just like you.

Where am I going with this? Hm, good question. I wish I have the answer to that, but I'm not sure if I have one. After all, I lack the voice to speak of such a thing, or to answer your inquiries.

Now, if you wish to look for where I really am, you'd know where to find me this time.

Why, I can see you now, little novelist. Look over to your left.

Look ove—

"Boo."

Orpheus could feel his heart give out for a moment, his head whipping to see you peering over him with a cheeky grin. Seeing the look of fear in his face, you couldn't help but laugh, your voice ringing in the air of the abandoned park.

"Ahaha! You should've seen the look on your face, Orphy," you said, amusement ringing in your voice. Jabbing him lightly, you snickered, "Perhaps I should subject you more to such simple mysteries. I'm surprised you manage to get through them!"

Orpheus scoffed. Despite your streak, he swore that you were but a child to someone like him.

"Hmph, and you should know that I have a weak heart. Not everyone can keep a straight face when they're snuck up from behind."

"Yes, yes," you drawled, patting his shoulder. "I suppose that's true. I'll spare you the... Worse I can bring, then."

... Just for me? How kind, he thought, but he didn't voice that out to you in fear of being seen as ungrateful.

"That aside, do you need me for something, [Name]?" he asked, finally facing you, raising an eyebrow at your demeanor. "Forgive me for saying this, but you never reach out to me first other than to cause mischief."

"Oh! Right, about that..."

You paused, your head turning slightly to the side. With a sheepish laugh, you continued, "I just... Wanted to bring you here. I remember you telling me that you never got to see the park when it wasn't used for matches— well, not without Memory, but that's understandable— so-"

Ah... So that's why.

...

Despite your behavior, you have a kind heart.

That is one thing he cannot deny that he liked about you. You may have a sadistic streak, but your kindness will always shine through it.

"... And I thought of getting Antonio as well, because he was planning to perform, and—"

"[Name]," he said, cutting you off. You perked up at him, humming to let him know you were listening. Orpheus couldn't help but let a chuckle slip, giving you a smile that was different from his usual poker face.

This one was more of sincerity— an emotion rarely seen of the novelist.

"Thank you," he continued, his eyes closing for a bit as he let out a soft laugh. "But please, you don't need to do this much for me. If anything, just being here with you is enough."

Before he can stop himself, he reached out to grab your hand, fingers interlocking with yours.

"... If I'm being honest, I am not a man seeking of such lavish and desire simplicity. However, since meeting you, you showed me just how adding a bit of uniqueness and extravagance can make things more memorable."

He could see your eyes widen at his confession, but he continued, as if he didn't wish to stop.

"Truly, I must blame you for claiming my heart as your own— you do it so effortlessly, it feels more like you've know how to weave me into your tales. However, as unfortunate for some, I don't think I'll be able to blame you for stealing it."

Tightening his grip, he reached out and grasped your cheek— watching as you relaxed on his hold.

"Not when I'm about to do a crime of my own, little trickster."

Under the guise of the sundown, the rays begin to emit such a glow that can make things more enchanting to the observant eye.

And a kiss was sealed, the untold confession of the novelist marked in the midst of golden hour.

© ᴏʟᴇᴛᴜs-ᴍᴀɴᴏʀs-ʟᴏɢ | 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟹 ✧ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛs ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀʀᴇ | ᴀʀᴛ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢs ᴛᴏ ʀɪɢʜᴛғᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀs

[star-quill]

woah just had a thought.....

dating neighbour!peter in secret and wanting to go on holiday with him. you both discuss it and he ends up renting a private villa on the south coast of spain. you tell your parents you're going away with your friends and they just make sure you're all set and packed, ready to go. peter makes sure he offers you a lift to the airport, telling your parents he's visiting family across the country and so it's more convenient for you to ride with him. and your parents don't suspect a thing.

you're so giddy on the car ride over to the airport and peter just chuckles, one of his hands on your thigh.

"alright baby.. alright.. someone's a little excited.."

"pete.. it's our first trip away.. of course i'm excited.."

you get to the airport and get through security smoothly. even the plane journey was calm and relaxing, no turbulence which you're relieved about.

then the real holiday begins. walking hand in hand with him through the little villages, laying on the beach and getting a tan. you knew you'd probably have to explain peter's tan when you get back but you knew they would never have let you go with him if you mentioned anything before. you just wanted to enjoy your time together before running into any problems when you get home again.

the villa he rented was so pretty, it had views right across the sea and was completely secluded from anyone else peeking in. so naturally, you would wander around the back garden in just your two piece swimsuit. but then there were times peter was in the pool, swimming up and down, when you'd wander into the garden, sit down on the edge and wait for him to notice you. you'd be wearing a little skirt, one that barely covered anything, and then nothing else. no top, no bra, no bikini top, nothing.

he stopped after a few lengths, slicking his hair back and staring at you.

"hi, baby.."

"hi.."

he wouldn't even hesitate, moving in between your legs and burying his head under your skirt, making you come once, then twice just from his mouth and fingers. then he'd stand up, his hips level with yours as he tugged his shorts down, pulling you right to the edge as he pushed into you.

"pretty baby couldn't wait, hm? needed me so badly, hm?"

"mmhm.. want you to make me cry.. please.."

"gonna stretch you out real good, baby.."

he took it slow, rocking into you and letting you feel every inch as he sunk deeper into you. you just lay back on the grass, his hands gripping your waist and watching your body move with every slow thrust he was giving you. he was just mesmerised by you, the golden tan adorning your skin was even more beautiful under the light of the sunset. he couldn't stop looking everywhere at you, your eyes closed shut, your mouth wide open, your tits softly bouncing with each thrust—you were so perfect in this moment and he wanted to treasure it for the rest of his life. that's when he noticed the discarded polaroid camera on the grass. he had taken a photo of the view earlier and he threw it down gently before diving into the pool.

"baby, hey baby.. get the camera for me.."

you blinked your eyes open and followed his hand pointing to it. you just about reached it and handed it to him. he smiled, holding it up to his eye and snapping a photo of you from the skirt upwards. he showed it to you when it developed and you could only blush, hiding your face.

"baby, don't hide.. you look fuckin' beautiful.."

"you think so?"

"i know so.."

[sugar-phoenix]

un-satyr.

I decided to swallow my perfectionism and just write out a short story without making it special or anything, just writing all the parts that I wanted to write and finishing. I might edit/add more but honestly I'm pretty happy with what I wrote and I wanted to share it.

tw: gore/violence, mentions of blood + wounds + pelting + pain

Sitting on the riverbank, I carefully brushed my platinum locks. They fell over my shoulders in strands, and on all sides of my head. I hated having my hair cut. If I could, I would wrap them around my horns to keep them out of my eyes. 

But I didn’t have horns.

I dipped my hooves into the water, and continued straightening out my hair until it no longer looked like I had tossed and turned all night. Only my family and the village doctor knew I had been suffering from terrible migraines. It was one more defect to add to my list of flaws. One more reason why I didn't belong. I hoped to hide my problems from the rest of the world.

Alas, brushing your hair out did not fix the dark circles under your eyes, and against my sickeningly pale skin, it was wildly obvious I was losing sleep.

I frowned as I felt a painful throb inside my skull. Why was I born this way? Blindingly white, horn-less, and now, having terrible migraines. Instead of being a regular, normal satyr, I was the village abomination.

I rose from the riverbank to walk.

The smell of the lavender field cleared my migraines a little bit and made it better. Here, I was further from the village, from the feeling of being out of place. Here, I belonged.

I laid in the grass and rested. 

And then they began to pelt me.

Younglings, picking up pebbles and throwing them at me. Telling me I was a freak, a monster. Taunting me with their little nubs of horns on their heads.

Although nobody had ever outright expressed their distaste of me in the village (fae such as us were loath to express anything that might make us seem ungraceful), the behavior of the children spoke volumes of what they thought of me. I rose from the lavender field. A pebble struck my forehead. I ran, blood dripping down my face.

The pain was immense. I clutched my forehead in bed, gently bandaged by my mother, and screamed as my father sent for the village doctor. It didn’t hurt this much initially, yet ever since I came home, the pain had only steadily increased. I struggled to hold still as the doctor unwrapped my bandage, checked my forehead, and reported nothing out of the ordinary. The pain was merely a product of the concussion combined with my migraines. Nonetheless, he re-bandaged it, and gave me a potion that was sure to knock me out as cold as a corpse.

I slept.

I woke up free of the pain that plagued me only hours ago, to a dry, crusty pillowcase. It was stained a deep, dark red. I gasped, and jumped up from my bed to inspect my wound in the mirror. 

My reflection’s eyes stared back at me, the eyebags underneath them gone. My skin glowed, pale as ever, yet it was… sparkling? The hair that fell around the wound was caked red, yet the rest of my hair flowed flawlessly. In between my bangs, I saw something else. Something new.

Ivory and pearlescent, it tore out of the bandages that had unknowingly held it back. A single, solitary horn.

dividers by @cafekitsune here. Header is Young Lady with Roses by The Bank of a Lake, Nathaniel Sichel, from this post here.

[dearmahiru]

i literally can't take the "mahiru is a kidnapper" theory because its just so funny

people, with their whole chest, will claim mahiru drugged her boyfriend on day nine. but then apparently she immediately gave him a hangover cure after. because mahiru can't drive so she needs her boyfriend sober to get them home or else waste money on an uber. sir this is the beginning of a comedy skit

[helldustedstories]

It would be SO EASY for me to play villain!Stolas. I'm actually really good at playing characters that exist in those shades of grey or even skew darker (Ask me about F.rank F.ontaine sometime), and I could even see how it could happen: All that love he has to give turned to hate, the desperate longing for connection turned to entitlement. Rather than lowering himself and learning to people please to keep the peace, he'd lean into the raw power he has and make them fear him. There would be many more casual displays of power, because he would want to be seen as powerful, would make SURE he was seen as powerful.

And while that could be interesting and even fun, I love my little broken bird, slowly learning to heal and trust, helping others to heal and trust with his absolute faith in them (yes, I'm talking about Blitz). It's a long road, and far from easy, but there's just something about the fact that he's still so GOOD, after everything he's been through, that draws me in so much more than the cliched villainy angle would have.

[unrealization]

⋆ “you should’ve told me this was going on. i would’ve put a stop to it the second i heard about it.” ( from Mitsuru to Yuki )

@braveryhearted

"It's not that big of a deal."

He wasn't sure how Mitsuru had heard about the fight. Surely Sanada hadn't brought it up to her. Makoto could count on one hand the number of times he'd been in a fight outside the dark hour, but he was always surprised at how slow the average person was. Almost ten people against him and Sanada, they crashed against them like waves breaking against a rocky shore.

The punks had hassled him and Sanada for a while and they'd just avoided them up until the last time. They threatened the others, which made things simple. As the leader, it was Makoto's job to keep his team safe and healthy.

It had been easy. Sanada and Makoto fought for their lives every time they went to Tartarus. Even without their personas, they were stronger than your average street thug.

"Either way, its done. Nothing to worry about now."

[q-starhalo]

"But the lovers found it - love is a finder, always" - Pyramus and Thisbe

[aezuria]

*ੈ✎ two boys (one to kiss your neck and one to bring you breakfast)

note: guys this wasnt supposed to be my first work here but it came to me the easiest 😔😔 song title is bike dream by rostum 😍this isnt like the meaning of the song tho dw

content: leo valdez x reader, jason x reader; dating hcs

*ੈ LEO VALDEZ

loves affectionately and openly

he'll peck your lips in front of everyone without a care in the world, as if after he's had a taste of your touch, he can't go a second without it (he'd probably make out with you if you let him)

he follows you everywhere, even trying to go with you while you shower (he'll never go inside the actual shower unless you want to)

"leo, as much as i love you, no. not today at least!"

"i'll just sit on the toilet seat, i swear! and i can talk about all my cool inventions!"

(maybe you'll change your mind?)

has to have a hand on you at all times

even a pinky will do for him

he loves holding pinkies actually, he thinks its so cute

will make you pinky promise not to snitch on him when he blurts out a new prank idea in the works

loves overexaggerating gentlemanly acts?? for the sillies

like he'll bow down to a 90 degree angle and swoop an arm out while the other kisses your hand

opens the car door for you like an escort

"for you, milady!" and does a cheeky little wink as he bows

he loves it when you play along like a rich noble from the 1800s

showers you with the metal work he does

he'll make you cute little rings and necklaces if you like jewelry

or metal flowers that'll never wilt

or something more practical, like a switchblade if you like those

either wakes up at 5am or sleeps in until noon there is no in between

or maybe he stays up until 5am because one time you caught him slipping out of bed to finish up the gift he was making you

"leo? what are you doing up?" you rub your eyes sleepily as you catch him at his desk, the lamp you gifted him glowing dimly

he startles and shoves (gently) the scraps of metal you see behind his arm

he grins sheepishly and rests his hand on his fist, positioning himself so you wouldn't see what he was making

"uh.. nothing! just finishing something!" he doesn't lie per se, but he'd rather not tell you the whole truth just yet (he loves how your face lights up when he presents another gift to you)

being the half-asleep mess you are, you didn't notice much

"alright.. just go to sleep soon, okay?" you yawn and turn back around to head back to bed.

"will do!" he whisper-shouts after you and sighs to himself in relief once you leave. close call!

you find a warm blanket preventing you from getting up the next morning, which just happened to be leo, his arms wrapped around your waist as if you were a pillow

a few more hours of sleep can't hurt, right?

*ੈ JASON GRACE

he's a bit shy to love

doesn't really do pda, but he'll hold your hand lotsss

if you guys started dating but didn't announce it, no one would catch on until they see you and jason holding hands (that took a lot of courage on his end btw)

after that he was a bit more open about it

i feel like he's kind of awkward at first

he tried to sneak up behind you one time and hug you but you turned around too soon and accidentally rammed your head into his chin

he tried to play it off because he's too cool to be embarrassed (his face was bright red)

can and will pick you up

it all started when you guys were running from monsters but your leg was injured so you couldn't move that fast and he literally just swooped you up bridal style and RAN

ran like the wind, even (haha guys pls laugh)

literally sprinting even as he carries a whole person like you were nothing

you fell in love (again)

he found out you like it when he does that so he'll do it randomly

"so then i said-" you were cut off with a yelp as jason picked you up off the bed and carried you in his arms, swinging you gently with a smile on his face

you pause in your storytelling, blinking at him as you grow increasingly flustered

he merely nods at you, saying, "keep going, i'm listening."

OH MY GOODNESS

tried to do reps with you after but you kept laughing

acts of service is so him

when you complain about it being too hot, he'll send a cool breeze your way

if you ask him if he did that, he'll play dumb

it was sweltering outside, the summer heat even worse as the both of you hiked up a trail

"gods, it's so hot!" you complained, taking a long swig of your water

jason hummed his agreement, and shortly after you felt a weird breeze out of nowhere

you pause, eyeing the demigod in front of you

"jason?"

"yeah?"

"did you do that?" you prod at his back teasingly, the smile evident in your voice

"i have no idea what you're talking about."

[fear-is-truth]

ben harmon is a cheating scumbag but i gotta give him credit for resisting moira o’ hara

ahs: murder house | moira o’ hara.

[fatescaprice]

Do you write for Firefly ?

hello anon, yes i do !!

[inkmimicry]

An old plot thread from the 'Bootleg Toons' story that went all the way back to my teen years was this idea that 'canon toons' were capability of well, destroying non-official toons (read: fan-characters) with mere words alone. Much like Peter Pan's ever deadly 'I don't believe in fairies!'.

Now, this would only work if the fan-character was conceptualized in-universe as being connected to the canon character in some way. So purely original characters, even if they were created with an IP in mind, were usually safe. A character drawn up as say, a theoretical sibling or child? If the canon toon outright said something along the lines of 'no the heck they ain't!' my morbid little brain imagined the OC poofing straight out of existence, or slowing fading away like Tinkerbelle in Return to Neverland. So, many fancharaters would avoid their 'inspirators' like the plague, even if they're not explicably written as relatives or friends, or even AU versions of that character. Rumours start spreading among the Bootleg Toons that you can find a way to make yourself 'more original' by abandoning your 'core concept' as a character...which may be your way out of this scary fate.

Just another fun little brainstorm as to how fandoms would work in this universe wherein cartoon characters came alive.

[reyalvr]

can we all agree that trudy’s death was the most unnecessary one from avatar 2009 🤕