#I love making punk!versions of all the things I love

[fantasiavii]

I honestly highly recommend the Sandman Dreamcast, it is very soothing and wonderful to fall asleep to, but also I have never heard a single thing Desire says because I am always already asleep 😭

[nomaishuttle]

guysss. guys soemthing about us i think i huave covid

[atlabeth]

geyser

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: percy learns about the first girl luke castellan ever loved.

a/n: this is a lil sad. sorry about that. but i really like it and it came out of nowhere in like 2 days so i hope you enjoy despite the sadness. title from the mitski song

wc: 6.5k

warning(s): major character death; not shown but hangs over the whole fic. angst made angstier by fluffy flashbacks. mostly told through percy’s pov but includes luke, annabeth, and reader povs

also if you saw this before on another account DONT WORRY... that account was also me. im just doing some stuff behind the scenes right now as i figure stuff out lol i promise no plagiarism is going on

Percy thought that his head might explode. 

He didn’t know how he was still walking, honestly. His mom died, he killed a— no, the— Minotaur, all the Greek myths were real and his dad was one of them, and now he had to deal with that freak accident with Clarisse and the toilets. 

At least he would be ready next time she tried to beat him up. Percy had been the new kid enough to know there would be a next time.

All he could do was stare at the Minotaur horn in his hands, the only sign that what happened outside the border was real. The horn in his hands and the hole in his heart. 

Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been thrown into the deep end, and the only thing on his mind was when he would start to drown. 

“Hey.” Percy looked up to see the counselor he’d met earlier with Annabeth—Luke. He tossed a ziploc bag at him and he caught it, taking a moment to look at what was in it. 

“I stole you some toiletries from the camp store,” he explained. “Thought it might make you feel more at home.” 

“…Thanks.” He didn’t know if Luke was joking, but the damage had already been done. And it was the nicest thing someone had done for him so far. He set it down next to his Minotaur shoebox. “Is this the best that it gets?” 

Luke’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. “For now. We’re a little crowded, if you couldn’t tell.” 

“Just a little bit.” Percy stood up from his sleeping bag and worked out the knot in his shoulder. “Where’s your bed? Assuming you have one.” 

“I couldn’t wrangle all these cats without some back support,” he said, and he pointed to a bed in the corner. It was the only one on its own without a bunk, and he had a fair amount of decorations. Counselor privileges, he figured. Percy walked over, Luke trailing behind him. 

“Nice place,” he said. Percy picked up the Yankee’s cap on his bedside table and nodded as he looked back at him. “Nice taste.” 

“It’s for Annabeth,” Luke said. “She wanted us to match.” 

Percy nodded again in approval. “Good taste for both of you.”

Luke had various other things around — an alarm clock knocked over next to the baseball cap, a huskie sticker on the wall half-scraped off, a poster for an album he didn’t recognize. 

But the thing that caught his eye was a polaroid hanging on the wall, surrounded by a smattering of others varying in size. 

The first one had to be an old picture—Luke didn’t have his scar, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. He had a girl close with an arm slung around her waist, and she might’ve been smiling even more than Luke. A bright energy emanated around her, something that must have transferred through the picture, because Percy found himself feeling a little better just looking at her. He wondered if she was a camper. 

His eyes flicked to the next picture, which was another one of Luke and that girl. They were both laughing as she tried to put a blue hat on Luke’s head, and he protested with a hand on her wrist. They were in the forefront of a baseball game, Percy noticed.

There were other pictures, too—Luke, a girl dressed all punk, and what looked like a young version of Annabeth, most notably—but a majority of them were either Luke and that girl, or the girl all on her own. In every single one, she beamed brighter than the sun. 

Percy pointed at the picture of Luke and the girl at the baseball game, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who’s that?”

That seemed to catch Luke off-guard, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. It barely took him any time to get back on track, but Percy found himself frowning. 

“That’s…” Luke cleared his throat, wet his lips, shook his head. “A friend. A very good friend.”

“Does she go here?” Percy asked. 

“She did.” 

He frowned. “Where is she, then?” 

“Percy—” Luke’s voice was strained, but he didn’t really notice as he went on. 

“I didn’t see her around,” he continued, “and you look pretty close.” 

Luke blinked a couple times, and Percy swore he could see the telltale glimmer of tears starting in his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and suddenly Percy was worried that he’d said something horribly wrong. He had a talent for that, it seemed. 

Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—conch shell?—and something like relief flooded through Luke’s expression. Tension still coiled in his body. 

“Come on,” he said, that camp counselor smile coming back as he put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and guided him away from the enclave. “That means dinner’s about to start.”

Percy’s frown deepened as curiosity won out again. “Was she your—”

“You don’t wanna be late,” Luke continued, ignoring his attempt. “I assume you’re pretty hungry after two days spent out?”

Well, that only made him want to push harder. But Percy figured he wouldn’t get anything out of him—especially not now. 

“…Yeah,” Percy said. “Starving.”

An odd look flickered across his face, but again, it only lasted for a second before he was back to normal. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Eleven! Fall in!” 

Percy was at the back of the line by virtue of him being the new kid, and he found himself looking back at that picture of Luke and the girl. He didn’t know why, but something drew him to her. Before Percy could think about it more, the line was moving and his growling stomach drew his attention away. 

He would have plenty of time to ask Luke about it later. 

Or rather, ask him and piss off the only person who’d tried to be his friend so far. 

…Gods. 

Maybe he was going to drown sooner than he thought. 

-

“Luke—” 

“No!” 

“Luke, please!” 

“Annabeth will kill me if she knows—” 

“She won’t know!” 

“Alright, alright— stay still, you two!” 

Your mother laughed from behind the camera as you and Luke fought with each other, you trying your damnedest to get your Red Sox cap on his head as he tried his damnedest to stop you. The frantic laughter on both sides made it a little difficult for either of you to succeed in your quest, but eventually, you got the rock up the hill and the hat on his head. 

“Take the picture, Mom!” you exclaimed, pulling Luke even closer by his arms so he couldn’t get it off. “I need the proof!” 

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Luke groaned, staring at the camera as you wrapped your arm around his side and leaned into him. He could already imagine your victorious smile, brighter than the sun beating down on them in the stadium, and just the thought of it made one of his own flit across his lips. 

“Oh, shut up, Castellan,” you said. “You chose to come to this game. Everyone’s gonna know you’re a Red Sox fan now.”

“You said you wouldn’t tell her!” Luke defended, wrenching his arms free of your control to take the hat off his head. “I don’t even care about baseball!” 

“You care so much about it,” you said cloyingly, “and you’re ride or die for the Boston Red Sox.” 

“If you say a single word—” 

“Okay, kids!” Your mother pointed at the seats next to her. “The game’s about to start—you can keep arguing, but only if you sit down so I can see.” 

“Sorry, Mom.” You grinned at her as you pulled Luke over to your seats—they were a step up from nosebleeds, but they were the ones closest to the balcony so you could at least peer over the railing down to the diamond.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She glanced at Luke with a smile, and he could really see where you got it from. “We’ve gotta make him a fan somehow.” 

“I guess I can live with the brand.” Luke set the cap back on your head once you were seated, purposefully pulling the brim a little over your eyes, and he smiled at you. “Even though it looks better on you, anyways.” 

“You just don’t have what it takes to be a Red Sox fan in the heart of Yank territory,” you mused, pushing the hat back up so you could see. “It’s fine.” 

Luke rolled his eyes, but he could hardly bite back his smile. 

“I am glad you came, though,” you said, glancing back at him. “I’m glad you came with me in the first place. This is gonna be the best semester.”

“Thanks for having me,” Luke said. “It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve left camp.” 

“Fingers crossed for no monster attacks, eh?” You held up your hand. “At least, not during the game. I could live with it happening any other time.” 

“Don’t speak it into existence,” your mom said. “We’re going to have a monster-free school year.” 

To humor her, you made a claw over your heart and pushed out. She hummed in satisfaction, and you looked over at Luke. “It’s gonna be fine.” 

“Yeah,” he said. “Because two kids like us aren’t gonna draw any attention.” 

“Oh, I know we will,” you said. “But I know it’ll be fine.” 

Luke frowned. “How can you be so sure?” 

You shrugged with a smile. “I’ve got you.”

And in that moment, he was thankful for the freakish heat that honestly made no sense in the spring—at least it covered up any sign of what your words did to him. 

Luke thought you were joking when you asked him if he wanted to come back home with you for the school year. He didn’t know why you wanted to go back in the first place, being a Big Three kid that apparently had a death wish, but the thought of him leaving camp was almost inconceivable. 

Even after you assured him you weren’t joking, he still wasn’t sure. He was on the run with you for three years, then… 

Well, he couldn’t think about it for too long. But Luke had been on the outskirts of regular society for so long, doing nothing but fighting for his life, that he didn’t know if he could actually function at a normal school.

But it felt right for you two to get some normal time together after you were separated for so long. It took him a semester to decide, but one day during your usual Iris message conversations, he told you he’d love to spend the rest of the year in Boston with you. Luke still remembered the grin you wore, your disbelieving but victorious cheers, the apology you yelled back at your mother for your noise. 

Luke watched you as you talked with your mom, discussing Boston’s chances and player statistics and baseball jargon he didn’t think he’d ever understand, and he knew he would sit through a thousand Red Sox games if it meant he would get to keep seeing your smile.

You must have felt his eyes on you, because you glanced over at him. “Are you okay?” 

Luke smiled. Gods, he was so glad you were here. 

“Never better.” 

-

“That one nearly got me,” Luke said. 

Percy huffed as he picked up his sword from the ground—he was pretty sure he would officially lose his mind if Luke disarmed him with that stupid move one more time. One benefit to the Hermes cabin being too scared to associate with him after getting claimed was that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself in front of other people. 

“Maybe I can only beat you when I pour water on myself,” he said. 

Luke chuckled as he took a bottle from the cooler on the side and held it up. “Wanna try?” 

He shook his head. “I think my arms will fall off if I keep going with you.” 

He tipped his shoulder. “Fair.” 

Percy stared at the ground as Luke gathered himself, trying to put the free range thoughts roaming around his head in order. It didn’t help that he’d gained a million questions after Poseidon claimed him, and it didn’t help that there’s been a newest addition to his dream last night. 

He still felt strange asking Luke about it, but he had to know more about her. Percy didn’t know why it felt like his mission to find out who this mysterious girl was, or why he felt that strange connection to her. Maybe it was the way Luke acted whenever he brought her up, maybe it was that she’d popped up in his dream next to him at the very end, maybe it was just plain old curiosity. 

“I’m not supposed to be alive,” Percy said, breaking the silence. “I could die at any time in a bunch of different horrible ways. So will you tell me more about that girl on your wall?”  

Again, Luke seemed to be caught off guard by it. Percy heard the crunch of plastic as his hand clenched ever so slightly around the bottle, and he tried to cover it up with an arched eyebrow. “Why do you want to know so badly?” 

He shrugged. What was he supposed to say? 

“I’m curious,” he decided. 

Luke huffed a dry laugh before he took a sip of water, and he stared off into the distance for a while. He did a lot of staring whenever this girl was brought up. They looked like they were best friends in those pictures, but maybe whatever they had ended badly. And if she was a demigod too…

Well, it would make sense why he didn’t want to talk about her. 

“You know that phrase about curiosity?” Luke asked. 

“And how it killed the cat?” 

He nodded, drinking some more. “It goes double for demigods.” 

“Everything else wants to kill me,” Percy said. “So curiosity’s gonna have to get in line.” 

Luke’s laugh was a little more genuine this time, and he shook his head. “I guess I can tell you a little about her. You actually probably have a right to know.” 

“Is she a half-blood?” Percy asked immediately. 

He nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Who’s her parent?” 

Luke capped his water bottle and looked at Percy for a good, long moment. His face glowed in the warm afternoon sun, his scar cast in a softer light than usual. The scar used to unnerve him, but he’d gotten used to it after weeks staring at it during sword fighting. 

“She was a child of Poseidon, Percy,” he said. “Just like you.” 

Percy felt short of breath, like Luke had just knocked his sword out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. But he stood on his own two legs that somehow still worked, and Luke hadn’t moved. 

He had a sister? 

“I have a sister?” 

“…Had,” Luke corrected. “She… she died a few years back.” 

A vice latched onto Percy’s heart. He was still having a hard time breathing. No wonder Luke always used past tense when he was talking about her. 

He had a sister, he wasn’t alone, but he was because she was dead. And if Luke was one of her friends, that meant she died young. 

Gods. 

“What about their oath?” Percy asked, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. “I’m already on thin ice for my whole existing thing. How did Poseidon get away with two kids so close to each other?” 

Luke shrugged. “I’ve never known why gods do things. Her mother was a great woman, though—I could see what drew Poseidon to her against the oath.” 

One half of Percy wanted to ask every question that kept popping into his head. The other side of him wanted to break down and cry. 

“How did you meet her?” 

“We ran into each other when we were both young,” he said. “Both child runaways, both demigods, both New Englanders—we decided to rough it out on the road together. Couldn’t be any worse than doing it on our own.”

Percy tried to imagine it. A young Luke and a younger version of that girl—maybe Percy’s age—living together in the wilderness and fighting monsters. Surviving off of nothing but their wit and skill, facing death each day before they’d even reached middle school. 

“It… it didn’t happen then, did it?” he asked hesitantly. 

Luke shook his head. “Couple years later. All we did was watch each other’s backs out there.” 

Percy couldn’t help himself. “What happened to her?”  

“The same thing that happens to everyone,” Luke said flatly. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest one here.” 

“That doesn’t make it better,” Percy insisted. “It— it makes it worse, Luke. You see that, right?”  

Luke stared at his empty water bottle then tossed it back into the cooler. When his gaze met Percy’s, he was shocked by how… tired he looked. Beyond exhausted—bone-weary. Percy wanted to say more, but he didn’t get the chance. 

“This isn’t good conversation,” Luke said, “and it’s getting late. You should hit the showers before dinner.” 

The sun still beat down on them, bright and angry in the sky, but Percy provided no argument. He had a lot to think about. 

Before they went their separate ways, Percy stopped and looked back at him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Luke.” 

Luke’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, his eyes growing glossy. “So am I.” 

-

Percy sat on the floor of the Hermes cabin in the corner that used to be his, staring at his meager belongings. He had to decide what to take on his quest, which was made easier by the fact that he hardly had anything to his name. Things could always be worse, though. At least he would have a change of clothes. 

He should’ve been doing this in his own cabin, but it felt too empty, too suffocating in its silence. Eleven was still more familiar. He heard the door open and saw Luke walk in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Percy. 

“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see you before you left. How’re you feeling pre-quest?” 

“Like the world’s about to end,” he said. 

Luke’s lips twitched into a smile as he sat on the bed across from Percy. “Understandable. It kinda is.” 

“It’s just overwhelming.” Percy shoved the unfolded clothes into his backpack. “I have to clear mine and my dad’s names and get Zeus’s bolt back, or else war will start. No pressure at all.” 

“You were chosen for a reason,” Luke said. “You may not see it, Percy, but you’ve improved a lot since you got here. If anyone can do this, I think it’s you.” 

Percy looked up at him, and he was reminded of the way their last conversation went. He was asking before he could really stop himself. 

“I could die on this quest and never see you again,” Percy said. “So could you tell me more about my sister before I go?”  

Luke smiled wistfully and sighed. “You really won’t let this go, will you?” 

“It’s not really something you just let go,” he said. “Besides, I… I saw her in my dream last night.” 

Luke’s smile faded. “You did?”  

Percy nodded. “For a split second, but I know it was her. I felt the same way I did whenever I looked at her pictures. And… it’s the second time she’s shown up.” 

He let out a long sigh and shook his head, his gaze trailing off to the wall. He always looked so much older when he talked about this girl, like he was a war veteran reminiscing on his lost love. And from what he’d gathered, it might not have been too far off. 

“I told you we ran together when we were young,” he said, and Percy nodded. “We were both nine, and it should’ve been terrible, but she had a way of making everything better. Always found the bright side of things, was always able to make me laugh.” 

“She was from Massachusetts—right in the middle of Boston.” Luke chuckled as he looked at Percy. “Huge Red Sox fan.” 

Percy grimaced. “We all make mistakes.” 

Luke smiled, though it faded a bit. “We got separated for a while, but we found each other again when I got to camp. Things were more peaceful than they are now, so she’d been claimed at camp pretty quickly. I figure Poseidon wanted her to have the protection of him openly standing behind her after what happened.” 

He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?” 

Luke shook his head. “That would be an awful story to send you off on.” 

Percy wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Luke was probably right—Percy didn’t want to make him relive it and then have to go on a death quest right after.

“A happier part, then,” he suggested.

“She ran away from home as a kid to protect her mom, but now that she had an idea of what she was doing, she started going back to school. She invited me to stay with her during the school year one year, and I accepted. That—” Luke’s throat bobbed, and the other hand clenched into a fist— “that was when she died.” 

In his stunned silence, Luke got up and went over to his alcove. He pulled the drawer open on his bedside table and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It must’ve been folded and crumpled a million other times in messier ways by all the creases he could see, but when Luke opened it, he could see handwriting all over the front. 

A letter. 

“We Iris messaged each other constantly while she was at school,” he said, “and we wrote back and forth when we couldn’t. This was the last letter she sent me.” 

Percy’s first instinct was to say he wouldn’t be able to read it, but he realized that he didn’t really care. These were words that his sister wrote—he would sit here the rest of the day forcing sentences to make sense if that was what it took. 

So he took the letter when Luke offered it. 

To the one and only Luke Castellan, 

My mom said yes! After a very long interrogation (she now knows basically everything about you) and a million promises that you would be as careful as possible and that you were good enough at sword fighting to take down anything that could come after us, she said you can spend the year here. We spent a couple hours every day making my mom’s study into a guest room, so you have a place to stay.

I’m an idiot that didn’t bring enough drachmas so that’s why I have to send this letter—hopefully it gets to you soon enough, because we’re gonna come get you a week before my winter break is over. Mom is letting me drive down because she says I have to get my permit soon. It makes sense that my first big test is getting to you. If we don’t make it, it’s because we died in a fiery crash. 

Just kidding. I’m a great driver. But tell me some of your favorite songs when you reply and I’ll burn a CD for the ride—I figured out how to use LimeWire. Oh, and throw in a couple drachmas with the envelope so I can Iris message you next time. I miss your face and your voice, and my hand is cramping up writing all of this. 

But this is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends at school, and show you my favorite places in the city, and make you into a Red Sox fan. And you can come to my soccer games— I’m the greatest forward there is. 

Jokes aside, I’m going to make sure you have the best time. We’ll spend every second together, Luke. We’re gonna make up for the time we lost. 

I can’t wait to see you again.

Your hurricane.  

It took Percy a long time to get through it with the words swimming all over, and it didn’t help that his vision had grown blurry. 

Tears, he realized as he blinked, and he did it again to make sure they wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t cry in front of Luke, not over a girl he didn’t even know—even if she was his sister. But maybe he was grieving that—the fact that he would never get to know her. 

“God, man. I— I’m sorry.” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. “She sounds like she was great.” 

Luke couldn’t even manage a smile this time as he stared at the wall. Percy was surprised he could even talk to him about it. 

“She was,” he murmured. “You would’ve liked her. And gods,” this time, a bit of a smile broke through despite it all, “she would have loved a little brother.” 

“I’m gonna make her proud on this quest,” Percy vowed. “I’m gonna clear our dad’s name for her.”

Something in Luke’s gaze had changed—sadness, almost regret. “You’re a good kid, Percy. I hope your quest doesn’t change that.” 

I hope I come back alive, he wanted to say. But given the topic matter, he didn’t. Percy carefully folded the letter back up and handed it to Luke. 

“Thank you for telling me about her, man,” Percy said. “I… I know it can’t be easy.”

Luke let out a shuddering breath as he stared at the closed letter—Percy wondered how many times he must have sat in this same position, reading her words. “No better way to honor her memory than helping her brother.” He glanced at Percy. “I see a lot of her in you.” 

He’d been wondering if he had anything in common with her. Percy felt a sudden flare of anger shoot through him—it wasn’t fair that she was dead. Poseidon was a god, and she was a teenager. He should have saved her. 

Percy’s mouth was drier than a desert. A part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over the sister he never got the chance to know, but the other part of him knew—from what little Luke had told him about her—that she wouldn’t want him to. 

“I should get going,” Percy said, standing up from the floor. “We have to leave for the quest soon, and Annabeth and Grover are probably wondering where I am, and…” 

Percy trailed off, and Luke nodded in understanding. He turned around and took one of the photos off the wall—one of you alone in the middle of a park, wearing a bucket hat and absolutely beaming. 

“You deserve to have a part of her with you,” he said. “For good luck.” 

He felt himself choking up, and he pushed it down as he accepted the photo. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”

“Good luck, Percy,” Luke said. “You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”

Percy found himself studying the picture of you once he made it outside, trying to memorize your face. With your wide, infectious smile that emanated pure sunlight, he could have mistaken you for an Apollo kid. But when he looked at you, he got that same warmth that he felt every time he imagined his father. 

“I won’t let you down,” he murmured. “I promise.” 

-

After sleeping in his train seat for half the day, Percy vowed to never complain about his bed in Cabin Three again. He was gonna be going down to the Underworld with permanent cricks in his neck. 

Grover was still sound asleep—Percy envied him for how easily it came to him in the worst conditions—but thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t. Her gaze was focused on the view as their train chugged along. 

Percy cleared his throat in a flawless attempt at getting her attention, and it worked. 

“You’re awake,” she said. 

“Unfortunately.” Percy sighed. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?” 

“Another day, at least,” she said. “And we’ve got a layover in St. Louis.” 

“St. Louis,” he hummed. “Nice.” 

They sat in silence for a while—there wasn’t much to talk about when they were coming off of two— or was it three, now?—near-death experiences. But eventually, Annabeth cleared her throat, taking a page from his book, and it worked again. 

“There— there’s probably something you should know,” Annabeth said, and that worked even better than clearing her throat. “You’re not the only Big Three kid to come through Camp Half-blood lately.” 

“I know,” he said. “Grover and Luke explained it.” 

Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned forward in her seat. “Luke did?” 

“…Yeah. You all already told me about Thalia.” Percy glanced away, suddenly feeling a chill in the train car. “Luke told me about my sister.” 

Annabeth went silent. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “I kind of annoyed Luke until he told me. Doesn’t really seem like a subject people at camp like to talk about.” 

“I’m just surprised he did,” she murmured. “They were… they were close, Percy. Her death destroyed him—Thalia and your sister. All of it’s complicated.”  

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I got some of that.” 

“I only knew her for a year at camp, but everyone loved her,” she said. “She was nice. Popular. Always helped when she could, always had the biggest, most infectious smile on her face.” Annabeth looked down at her hands. “She didn’t deserve the fate she got.” 

Percy didn’t think he’d ever grieved so much for someone he never knew. “But her and Luke—were they…?” 

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, “they were a thing, later on.” 

That seemed to be all she wanted to say on the matter. Percy decided not to push. 

“How did you meet her?” he asked. 

Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met her on the day I thought I would die.”

-

For the first time in her life, Annabeth Chase couldn’t think. 

It had all happened so fast. One second she was running with Luke and Thalia and Grover, praying to her mother and any other gods that would listen to make the horde of monsters let up even a centimeter.

The next, she’d collapsed on the ground, never so grateful to have grass and dirt and dust in her face. But she could hear Luke yelling, barely able to make it out in her delirious state—she didn’t know when she’d last had a sip of water, and they’d been running for at least three miles—but he sounded hysterical. 

She remembered her last clear thought: they weren’t going to make it. 

But they had. They had, so why was Luke losing his mind? 

Annabeth pulled herself up from the ground—how long had she been bleeding out of those slashes on her arm?—and looked for the rest of her friends. Luke wasn’t yelling anymore, instead arguing with someone she didn’t recognize in a bright orange shirt. Grover’s furry legs trembled as he stared down the hill they’d just gotten up, completely silent, and Thalia— 

Where was Thalia? 

Annabeth tried to get up but her legs gave out almost immediately, and steady arms caught her before she could fall to the ground again. Kind eyes served to ease some of her panic—she was older than Annabeth, maybe around Luke or Thalia’s age. 

Thalia— 

“Hey, you’re okay,” the voice said, and Annabeth’s attention was drawn back to you. “I’ve got you.” 

“Where’s Thalia?” she blurted out, because now she couldn’t think of anything else. 

Your brows creased and you glanced back down the hill—Annabeth did too, and she saw Grover and Luke arguing with each other. Or rather, Luke was yelling at him as Grover anxiously hooked his hands through his hair. 

“I don’t know,” you said, “but right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Are you hurt?” 

Annabeth absentmindedly held up her arm, but she was only focused on her friends. Why wasn’t Thalia with them? Why was Luke so upset?

You cursed under your breath in Ancient Greek as you cradled her arm, and you looked back down the hill. Annabeth could see at least half a dozen other kids. 

“We’ve got two half-bloods and a satyr, one injured!” you yelled back. “Get Molly and Brayden!” 

“Three,” Annabeth found herself saying. “There’s three half-bloods—” 

“Annabeth!” 

Her head shot up at the sound of Luke calling her name as he bounded over, and her eyes widened at the blood steadily spidering across the fabric of his shirt. 

“Luke, you’re hurt—” 

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s fine.” 

“We have Apollo kids coming,” you said, looking up at him, still cradling Annabeth’s arm. “We’ll get y—” 

Your sentence stuck in your throat, and Annabeth could see tears welling in your eyes as your brows furrowed. She thought Luke’s eyes might burst out of his skull as he stared at you, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Neither of you were able to form words. 

When he finally did get something out, it was a single name. One Annabeth knew by heart, one that he’d mourned for years. 

“Luke?” you whispered. 

Before he had the chance to do anything, two teenagers got over the hill and called out your name, the same one Luke used. He always said you were dead, but you clearly weren’t dead, because you were here and you had her arm in your grasp and while your hands were cold, they weren’t cold enough to be dead— 

“Molly’s gonna take care of you,” you said, looking back at Annabeth and cutting off her inner dialogue. “She’ll get you to the infirmary and heal you up, okay?” 

“My friends—” 

“They’re gonna be okay too,” you said. “I promise.” 

Annabeth looked up at Luke, and he nodded. “We’ll be with you soon, Annabeth. We— we have to talk about some things.” 

So she went with Molly down the hill, and Annabeth put pressure on her bleeding wound when she told her to—it had started to sting like hell now that her adrenaline was fading. 

She looked back just in time to see you and Luke share the tightest hug ever. 

The hug of two people who realized they weren’t seeing ghosts, Annabeth thought. 

-

You bolted up in bed, eyes wide and your chest heaving as you rapidly sucked in air. Your fingers found purchase in your bedsheets, desperate for something familiar—it took a second for you to recognize your surroundings, that you weren’t in an endless void, but your childhood bedroom offered little comfort.  

You ran a hand over your forehead, damp with sweat, as you tried to calm down. Your breathing slowed, but you couldn’t shake that awful feeling that hung over you in your sleep. 

Your nightmares were getting worse, you knew that much. That raspy, demented voice used to be a rarity, and now it appeared every night. You could usually deal with your nightmares, but the sense of absolute dread that voice and the pit fostered in you was too much. You hadn’t managed to sleep through the night once since you came home for the school year.

You could deal with the monsters—to you, this was the worst part of your godly blood.

A knock rattled on the door out of nowhere, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The only thing that calmed you down was the thought that monsters didn’t knock. 

“Come in,” you croaked, your throat drier than a desert. 

Thankfully, a monster hadn’t come to make your night even more miserable. Luke stood in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in concern, messy curls hanging just above his eyes. He wore the Red Sox t-shirt you’d bought for him at the game you dragged him to, and in your addled state, you didn’t even think to tease him about it. 

“Are you okay?” He should’ve been as disoriented as you, but his alerted eyes told a different story. 

You could only think of one thing. “How did you know?” 

Luke’s lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “I could just feel it.”

You managed a smile despite every atom in your body screaming at you. “I think that means you can come in.” 

He closed the door behind him, and you shifted over in your bed to make room for him. There wasn’t much in a twin, but you made it work. Luke’s weight pressed into the mattress, making you adjust your position, and it was more comforting than any amount of blankets. 

“You’re so cold,” he murmured, laying the back of his hand against your arm. “How do you live like that?” 

“Blame my dad,” you said. “I’ve got water in my blood.” 

“I think that’s probably a bad thing,” Luke said, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a huff. 

“You know what I mean.” 

Luke let his hand fall back in his lap, and as you brought your knees up to your chest, you pulled the covers with them. 

“So,” Luke said, glancing at you, “what’s got you awake at the witching hour?” 

“The usual,” you mumbled. 

“Nightmares that might be prophetic?” he asked. 

You made a lazy gesture with your hand. “Bingo.” 

“The worst sense of dread imaginable?” 

“Bullseye.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

You shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.” 

“You don’t always have to put on a front, y’know,” Luke said. You felt his eyes on you. “You don’t always have to be strong.” 

“I’m naturally strong,” you said with mock austerity. “Comes with the god for a dad.” 

Luke chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah,” you murmured. 

You leaned into his side, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. Luke wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, and you let out a contented sigh. 

That voice in your nightmares seemed so small when you had Luke. 

“Can you stay?” you asked softly.��

He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” 

“Just like old times,” you whispered. 

“Just like old times,” he agreed. 

Luke ran hot, and you’d never been more thankful for it as you fully settled into his side. Icy blood ran through your veins, and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat through his chest, and the anxiety from earlier began to steadily fade. You never felt safer than when you were with Luke. 

There was something between you—you weren’t that stupid—but you hadn’t talked about it. With you and Luke, it was just… you and Luke. You didn’t have to put a label to it. 

How could you put a label to your relationship, when you’d spent your first few years together fighting for each day, and then the next few thinking the other was dead? 

Maybe someday, you would talk about it. But for now, this was more than enough. 

“Don’t worry,” Luke murmured in your ear as your eyes began to droop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” 

And by the gods, you believed him. 

[navybrat817]

his tongue 👅

YES. This man and his tongue.

What That Tongue Do?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky doesn't get why you're attracted to an actor who plays him in another world, but he's happy to remind you what his tongue can do. Word Count: Over 1.4k Warnings: Multiverse discussion, Sebastian Stan and his tongue, d/irty talk, implied o/ral (f. and m. receiving), jealousy, humor, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: It's Sebastian Stan's birthday and this is my take on Bucky discovering his existence. And for the Bucks and Noble server, a quick position mention. Hehe. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“I don’t like him.”

You chortled as you turned in your chair to face Bucky, amusement twinkling in your eyes as his nostrils flared. “Why don’t you like him? That’s you. Well. Kind of. His name is Sebastian Stan.”

Bucky honestly couldn’t remember at this point if Tony had played around with something or if Wanda joined in and tampered with an experiment, but the monitors showcased what they were told were different versions of themselves in various worlds and dimensions. And you, his girlfriend, zeroed in on the screen where some punk who admittedly looked similar to him couldn’t stop showing his tongue and licking his lips.

Everyone else left quickly after that.

Does this guy have an oral fixation or is he a slut? Not that I would shame him if he is, but I don’t like how you keep looking at it.

“That is not me,” he stated, crossing his arms with a defiant glare. Had it been his old metal arm instead of the upgraded vibranium one, the distinct “whir” sound would’ve filled the room from how hard he clenched his fingers. “He’s a punk.”

“Steve is a punk. Seb is an actor,” you corrected him.

“Oh, it’s ‘Seb’ now. The punk has a nickname.”

“He is not a punk,” you giggled, the sound bringing a small smile to his face before he raised a lip at the screen.

I know punks and he’s a fucking punk. He can’t fool me. He looks shorter than I am. Why does his hair look so good after a fight? That’s not realistic. I have to admit, they got the likeness of the arm pretty close. Wait, do I make those facial expressions? Why are you smiling at his nose crinkle?

“His tongue is out. AGAIN. I swear he’s doing it on purpose,” he snarled when your head whipped back toward the monitor. “Seriously?! You’re looking?!”

“Only because he looks like you, Bucky!” you said innocently, facing him again. There was nothing innocent about it. The moment that guy’s fucking tongue moved, you clenched your thighs together. The only one he wanted you to do that for was him. “And like I didn’t hear you groan when you saw the Earth 314 version of me.”

That is not the same because I don’t love her. I love you.

“Fine. So, he’s an actor,” he grumbled as you got up and did your best to block out the view of the faces behind you. “And he ‘plays’ me?”

“Yeah, he does. In that world, James Buchanan Barnes, and pretty much everyone here that you know, are comic book characters brought to life. He plays you in the movies. Oh, they made a show, too. About you and Sam.”

What kind of world is that?

“Sam and I in a show together? That would never work.”

“It does in their world,” you said, touching his cheek and bringing his attention back to you and your loving smile. “Stop giving the television that death stare, please? Those monitors are shutting down in the next few minutes and we’ll never see those faces again.”

“Please. You think Stark didn’t find a way to keep that Earth’s video on a loop to taunt me at any given moment?”

Things were better between Bucky and Tony after what happened in Siberia, but the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, according to the actor who portrayed him, liked to give him hell from time to time. It was usually in good fun. Usually.

“So, I shouldn’t tell you it’s Sebastian Stan’s birthday today?” you asked, sucking your lips in as you tried not to giggle.

His nostrils flared again as he took a breath. He was a war hero. The former Winter Soldier turned Avenger. He was not about to be jealous of some actor in another dimension that you’d never see. “Why do you know that?”

“Because the information is right there,” you said, pointing over your shoulder. You had the decency to not turn around. “He was born on August 13th, 1982, in Constanta, Romania and he-”

Your eyes widened as Bucky gently shoved two vibranium fingers into your mouth, pushing them deep enough to make you pause. “Stop talking about the man who can’t keep his fucking tongue in his mouth.”

With a moan, you wrapped your mouth tighter around the digits and bobbed your head. You already choked on him once today. Maybe you’d do it again. Seeing that guy with the bright blue eyes though, he wanted to give you a firm reminder of what he could do to you with his tongue.

Why lust after him when you have me to worship you?

“Why do you like it so much?” he asked as his fingers slipped free.

You began to laugh before he tilted your head to kiss your neck, the sound shifting to a moan. “I don’t like his tongue, Bucky. I like yours.”

“Not good enough,” he murmured against your skin, trying to go slow when he was two seconds away from ripping your clothes off and bending you over the console. “I need you to love my tongue.”

“I do,” you whined, palming him through his pants. “Love when you get it nice and deep, just like your cock. Or when you thrust your fingers in and flick my clit with the tip of your tongue. Make me drip until I’m practically a puddle and you still don’t stop.”

“You and that fucking mouth,” he groaned, laying you back as best as he could and sliding your skirt up. The growing stain on your panties made him twitch and he told himself it had nothing to do with the actor who played his part well. It was all him.

“Remember the last time you ate me out?” you asked, biting your lip as he slid your soaked underwear down your legs. As much as he wanted to shove them in your mouth because he loved making you taste yourself, he didn’t want to smother a single sound. “You had me ride your face and it wasn’t enough. You spun me around after the first orgasm and kept your tongue inside when I got my mouth on your cock.”

That position deserves more attention.

“It’s never enough. I always want more,” he said, taking in the glistening lips of your pussy as he glanced down at what belonged to him and licking his lips as he ran a finger along the slit. “If you could eat yourself out, you’d understand why I love being buried between your thighs.”

“I’ll settle for your cock,” you said as he sank to his knees, a shuddering breath leaving your body. “And I’ll also settle for your tongue first.”

“Should make you beg for it,” he said in a low voice, taking a long lick and groaning at your taste. Sweet and a bit tangy, a hint of your essence coating his taste buds and daring him to have more. “Should slap this pretty pussy and remind you exactly who it belongs to.”

“It’s yours. It blelongs to you, Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes. No one else,” you said, your hand shooting out to grip his long hair and twist the stands. “Get your tongue or your cock in me. I’m begging you.”

Bucky smirked, watching your hole clench around nothing. He’d fill you up the way you need. “That’s my good girl. Gonna make a mess all over this. Might make you lick it up when we’re finished.”

“Not to interrupt?” Steve’s voice rang out over the room speaker as Bucky gripped your thighs. “But I think the speaker is on and we can kind of hear everything?”

And you’re telling us now?!

“Stark has bet me twenty bucks that your lady will call out Sebastian’s name when you bring her to orgasm,” Thor chimed in. “Just so you know, my friend, I have the utmost faith that you will please her.”

You let go of Bucky’s hair to cover your mouth, your body shaking with laughter when he growled.

Of course, I fucking will.

“Make it forty bucks, Point Break. Ha. Bucks. Bucky. Yeah, get to it.”

“You heard the man,” you said through your laughter, not at all embarrassed by the commentary. “Get to it.”

Taking one last look at Sebastian’s face on the screen, Bucky smiled in determination and did exactly that.

Happy Sinday! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[celestica-1988]

Some other Tokyo Revengers characters headcanon. There will be SPOILERS.

When Mikey left the Sano household he brought with him his towel and some pics of the people he lost. Almost every night when he's curled up in his towel ready to sleep he watches the pics and cries. Yes, even when he's in bonten.

Draken biggest regret is not confessing his feelings to Emma. So when he gets up and goes to bed he always says "I love you" to her pic on the wall.

Baji is so scared of his mother tears because when she cries she turns in a really strong opponent. She's the female version of the blue ogre.

Chifuyu thought that his mother hated Peke J till one day when he got home from school and found the two sleeping together snuggling.

Takemichi finds some notes of his past self in which he's confused about being friends with people he doesn't even remember he knew and lately being involved in a gang. Past Takemichi is afraid he's going insane so our Takemichi writes te a note in which he explains everything. Not surprisingly past Takemichi is even more confused and thinks he need a therapist.

Kazutora is proud of his tattoo. He just wish people in Japan wouldn't be so scared of tattoos because sometimes is tired of hide it with turtlenecks.

Takuya likes to watch wrestling.

Yamagishi dream is that his delinquent encyclopedia would be published one day.

Akkun dies his hair red by himself as a training to be an hairdresser.

Mitsuya is very good at karaoke, he likes to sing rock songs.

Hakkai is the first and more hardcore shipper of Mitsuya x Yuzuha. He really wants Taka-chan to be a part of his family.

Sometimes Taiju babysits Mana and Luna. One time they asked him to watch IT (the 90s version) with them since Takanii forbid them to watch such a scary horror movie, Taiju accepted but not much longer the movie started Mana and Luna started to cry and Taiju did his best to comfort them (he said he would punch any clowns that goes close to them or something similar). In the end the little ones fell asleep in his arms and Taiju had to live for a week with the Mitsuya because Mana and Luna felt safe only near to him. Needless to say an angry Mitsuya scolded Taiju.

When Pahchin gets released all the Toman members throw a party for him. He was sad Mikey was not there though.

When Yasuda confessed to Pehyan he malfunctioned and froze for a solid 15 minutes.

Angry thought for a while that he would be a nurse when he will be an adult. He changes his mind after seeing Nahoya smiling with his eyes wide in delight while eating the ramen that he prepared. Since then Angry wants to be a ramen chef.

Smiley once stole Angry favorite stuffed animal, Souya got so upset that accidentally unleashed the blue ogree. Since then Nahoya always politely asks to Souya if he can borrow one of his plushies.

Mucho goes to punk rock concerts, one time he brought Sanzu with him, but it wasn't a good idea. Sanzu beated almost all the people in the venue.

Sanzu ends up regretting killing Mucho, he misses the older brother he was for him. Especially when he feels lonely and he realizes he has got nobody to talk to.

When Kisaki reaches the afterlife Baji punches him in the face so hard that for a moment he was sure he would come back in the world of the livings.

Hanma likes to play shooting games at the arcade, but when he loses he usually punches the machine.

Kokonoi lives in a traditional house when he's in bonten. There are a lot of candles, lanterns and things that make it a cozy place. Only Miley is admitted in his house and only for urgent matters. The house is his sanctuary to find inner peace after dealing with his crazy coworkers.

Inui likes goth girls more because they understand and appreciate his hobbies.

When Izana listens to Queen the whole neighborhood listens to Queen.

Kakucho learned to cook from Mochi.

Mochi hates creeps who harass women and always beat them down to a pulp. Harassing a woman is not an honorable behavior for a man!

Shion always fails tests of courage since when he was a kid. He believes in ghosts and he's afraid of them.

Rindou panicked when Ran slept for a whole day, he thought he was dead or in a coma. That's when he realized how important Ran is to him. When Ran woke up he cried for joy and ran to buy a mont blanc for his brother.

Ran cut his hair because he was tired of Sanzu calling him Wednesday or Annabelle.

Never insult someone because they are not fully Japanese in front of South, he will punch the living shit out of you. Since he's also a mixed race person he hates when people are bullied for that reason.

Wakasa saved a stray cat once and let the kitten live with him. Now when he doesn't wanna hang out with Takeomi he said he's busy... Busy cuddling his cat that he treasures so much because it help him avoid unnecessary social situations. And because... Who doesn't love a cat?

Benkei likes to built copies of castles in miniature. It relaxes him cause it takes great concentration and ability to do that in the right way.

Takeomi gossips like an old lady with his coworkers (may God help them)

Shinichiro cried the first time he watched Titanic, it's one of his favorite movies.

Yuzuha meets with Emma and Senju every month to talk about how hard it is dealing with problematic brothers.

Hinata is a fan of Avril Lavigne and sometimes she dreams of touring around the world playing the songs she wrote. Unluckily she can't sing but she has got some alternative fashion clothes.

Emma talks and sleeps with the plushie Draken gave to her. She calls him Kenken.

Senju goes often to Harajuku to take inspiration for her outfits.

[maxwellatoms]

This is the original marker comp done for the opening shot of the main titles. These sorts of things are done for important shots (or any time you've got time to give something a bit more love). I remember that Art Director Rae McCarson also made a more purple version and a red/orange. I like that this one looked like a bit of a punk rock eyesore, so I went with that.

I always felt that the Grim & Evil titles were obnoxious in the WRONG way, and I wanted to make sure that the Billy & Mandy titles were CORRECTLY obnoxious.

It was a fun title sequence, with the exception of the fact that we had three days and zero extra dollars to put it together. Once we had the art assets, I took a weekend with my roommate La and girlfriend (all of whom worked on the show) and shot a bunch of extra stuff. We threw water balloons full of paint at poster board (which would later be used as mattes for the "splatter" transitions. We filmed smoke swirling in a tube and that can be seen swirling around the edges of the whole sequence. We did dumb little drawings of sharp-toothed Billys and Mandys. Many of those made it in as film scratches or pops. Most of it (like the infamous names on the tombstones) is really hard to see in SD.

Nice we had all of the stuff, editor Bobby Gibis and I spent a couple of days mashing it all together with the music.

My biggest regret is that we weren't given the time or budget for any actual animation, as I'd really wanted Billy & Mandy's sketelons to drop down followed by organs and skin as in the pilot. Instead we just had to use "electricity magic". Still, considering the resources we had... I'm pretty proud of what we were able to accomplish.

This piece (and many others) are on eBay right now under username: gr1mb0t.

I'll be putting more stuff up through the next couple of months, so keep an eye out if you're interested!

[dirksawesomesprites]

editing / fixing sprites + my headcanons

Part 1: Beta Lowbloods

Aradia Megdio

without bag

with bag

dead

she uses she/they and is demigirl and bisexual. her horns are covered in a layer of dust from scavaging for fossils and living in an underground hive. she wears a messanger bag that she uses to keep all of her fossile hunting materials and other things. she uses the fossils to decorate her hive and shes goth (original i know). her matesprit is sollux and her moirail is feferi.

Tavros Nitram

he uses he/him and is a cis guy (just is slightly feminine) he is mlm/gay. he loves fairycore and his favourite dog breed is a golden retriver (speficially the human version dave showed him, not alternian.) his robot legs will occasionslly malfcution, causing them to either get locked in place, squeak loudly, or get sticky joints. dave constantly has to call dirk over to fix his legs. his matesprit is dave, moirail is gamzee, and he has a black crush on gamzee (not very "black" though, mostly a "i can fix him" mentality but it ends up being "i can fix him but itll make me worse in the prossess) type stuff. its a pale leaning black thing.

Sollux Captor

he uses they/he/she and is bisexual and bigender (original i know but its kinda funny concidering my headmate with a sollux source is bisexual and bigender so im stealing that). hes emo and has a johnnie guilbert shrine in his hive he swears is ironic. he is colour blind (blue colour blindess specifically) so he sees voilet/purple as a ugly brown thats why he calls eridan ugly so much. he plays the synthesizer. hes double jointed and likes to gross his friends out with it. his shoes were orignially both white but he lost the second one but was too lazy to find it so he just wears the same brand shoe but different colours. theyre vans shoes. his matesprit is aradia , his moirail is dave , his kismesis is eridan , and his auspistice is karkat.

Karkat Vantas

he uses they/he, theyre nonbinary / transmasculine (has top scars and is technially transmasc but is also nonbinary i dont know if im saying this right) and is unlabeled for sexuality (they kiss guys but is unlabeled take with that what you will) they are punk even if they dont particualerly dress like it. their sweatpants are too big and their sweater is too small / tight so theyre a small gap of stomach showing. he purrs when happy, sleepy, or comfortable. when he gets scared their voice cracks and squeaks. when theyre alone listening to music in their hive hell jump around bouncing off stuff pretending to play the guitar and screaming / singing at the top of his lungs to the song. his matesprit is gamzee, his moirial is eridan, his kismesis is dave, and they aupistice for eridan and sollux.

Nepeta Lejion

she uses she/meow and is girlflux, catgender (original i know), grey romantic, and asexual. when she paints on her shipping wall she tends to get paint all over her and it has since stained her jacket. she has had her hat since she was very little and its very streched out and worn. same with her tail as its not part of her, it drags on the ground behind her and gets dirt, sticks and leaves caught in it most of the time. she likes to play the xylophone, read warrior cats, and play animal jam with equius. she purrs when she his happy / sleepy / comfy like karkat. her matesprit is feferi and her moirail is equius.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Actually,Hobie isn't universal punk,he's afropunk.He's been black since his creation and the comics Spiderband has Riri Willians on it and he acts very distinctively black and his tastes are black too and the movies amped this up big time in design and personality-He has wicks,for goodness sake-and his relathionship in Atsv with Miles is a metaphor for black solidarity and his single love interest is a black woman from his Prowler verse.Hobie's black and punk and you cannot seperate these and i put black first for a reason cause white and nonblack poc punk Spiderman fans be outta pocket with him too often.Hobie's not a generic altie,he's a punk nigga and that's why he'd never be caught dead at Hot Topic or making himself a thirst trap or picking on his friends to be funny and thinks smoking is gross and isn't a cornball 'male feminist' but a womanist and is convinced he's unattractive and unappealing thanks to growing up in such a violently antiblack place like 1970s England that's even worse than our version thanks to it's fascist caused apocalyptic status and he said 'I hate labels' as a trans thing but specifically based off his gender experiences and gender trauma as a black person that led to him becoming unlabeled to begin with and it also refers to white people telling him he should just say he's english instead of jamaican-english.The latter half is headcanons based but all entierly from canon Hobie and irl blackness and has no contradiction because of how well-written he is.Hobie would not act,do or like something or someone just because it's aracial alt but he WOULD absolutely LOVE something if it's afropunk or even just regular black.Spiderpunk is black.Don't you ever take that from him or from me or from us(🖐🏼🖐🏽🖐🏾🖐🏿 < That being us).He's black peoples before he is anyone else's

[rayyrayysanchez]

Sooo, uhh things happened lol! So I hope you guys don't mind if a light drabble helps instead! Still working on the longer fic I wanna do! So here ya go! 💫

(I also am not the best at writing, soo please forgive me! I'll do my best to proofread!)

"Look At Me.." Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Spider-reader

(Light drabble)

This pic inspired this drabble, so this is a jealous!miguel version!

Tags: No use of Y/N, 18+ ahead! MDNI! jealous!Miguel, dirty talk, pet names, degrade/praise kink, dom/sub, grinding, hair pulling, choking, fingering, almost getting caught

Summary: You were a new Spider-Woman, one of the few there is. You were recruited shortly after your dad died, leaving you with not much else in your world but being the one and only Spider-Woman. A little shy, but so sweet, you just had caught the big boss's eyes. You soon became his favorite, until Hobie Brown stumbled into the fold. With all your attention on Hobie, you slowly stopped talking to Miguel. Will you look at him, or will he make you look at him?

His gaze found yours, as you walked into the busy lobby, Hobie talking with you as they walked. A grunt left his mouth, seeing Spider-Punk by your side again. You were a new Spider, only about 6 months being at the Spider Society. You were a sweet little thing, your reputation building as you grew around the Spiders, beginning to consider some of them friends.

Especially Hobie Brown.

Hobie hung around you every single time you were at the Spider Society. You spent your time, learning how to play his electric guitar, becoming closer to the point where you even spent time in his universe.

Every time Miguel saw you with him, he hated the pang of jealousy in his chest, only because you weren't by his side.

He hated the nickname Hobie gave you, calling you his little love, and Miguel gritted his teeth every time he heard it.

Miguel finally had taken all he could bear, and finally had a plan to make you his.

Miguel ordered Lyla to not disturb him, finally having a day off, and finishing his reports early.

He called you to his office, knowing you were sitting somewhere, waiting for Hobie to come back from his mission.

He waited patiently for you, staring at his monitors as he waited for the knock that would announce your presence.

He couldn't help himself, his thoughts drifted to thoughts he had at night. Your body, the way your spandex suit held your curves.

The knock came sooner than expected, jeering him from his thoughts. He cleared his throat, as he spoke. "Come in."

You heard his gruff voice permitting you to enter, as you pushed the door open. "You wanted to see me, Miguel?"

"I did." Was all he said, his back still to you. You shifted on your legs, your eyes finding purchase on his large back.

You wouldn't admit this, but Hobie was the perfect excuse to get close to Miguel. The man in front of you had your complete attention whenever he was in the room.

"Are you listening to me, Nena?" He snapped quietly, your eyes snapping up to meet his now.

A smirk rested on his lips, fully turning to face you before his gaze dropped down to your body, especially how the suit made your tits pop up.

"My eyes are up here, Miguel." You said, smiling softly as you watched him look up to your eyes.

"¿Sabes lo mucho que me has estado tomando el pelo, dulce niña?" Miguel asked you, a blush coating your cheeks as he spoke. (Do you know how much you've been teasing me, sweet girl?

"I haven't done anything yet." You asked and he laughed, his tone incredulous.

"Entonces, ¿puedes entenderme, niña?" Miguel asked, moving closer to you as you nodded. (So, you can understand me, babygirl?)

"I took Spanish for 6 years, Miguel." You countered, smiling up at him as you moved closer.

You looked up at him to find his pupils blown with a need for you. "Tell me to stop now, nena."

You smiled at his words, placing a hand on his wide chest. A growl vibrated through his chest, feeling your warm hand on him.

"I'll make you look at me this time, pretty girl." He growled, before he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you up a bit to press his warm lips against yours.

A soft gasp left your lips when you felt his hands squeeze your asschecks. His tongue slipped into yours, your tongues fighting for dominance.

He pulled away, smirking as he saw your face flushed red. He began leaving open-mouthed kisses down your neck.

A shiver ran down your spine as you felt his canies nip at the tender skin of your neck.

"Fuck, cariño.. I've been waiting to do this." He growled against your neck, his fingers trying to find purchase in your suit.

"How mad would you be if I ripped this?" He whispered into your ear, his breath fanning over it.

"You mean the only suit I have until Jess fits me with a new one?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

He cursed, and felt around your suit for the zipper, pulling it down in a haste. The cool air of his office cause goosebumps all over your skin.

Pulling the suit, his hands felt the plush of your skin, his fingers tracing down your stomach.

His other hand gripped your neck, his fingertips pressing into the sides of your neck.

"Such a pretty little slut, aren't you? Begging for my attention like a little whore, are you hermosa?" Miguel whispered against your ear, as his fingers flicked gently against your clit.

A soft moan left your mouth, your knees almost giving out. If his arms weren't holding you up, you would've fallen.

"P-please.." A soft whine passed your lips, and Miguel chuckled lowly in your ear.

"You like that? Come on, baby, use your words." He growled, flicking your sensitive bud again, as a finger slipped inside your fluttering cunt.

His fingers were much larger than your own, causing a louder moan to pass your lips. "Miguel, please.. mmh!"

He chuckled lowly in your ear, nibbling on your earlobe. "More, nena? You want more?" He chuckled, slipping another finger into your dripping cunt.

His speed began to increase slowly, and your legs started to tremble. He could tell you enjoyed every movement he made, your gasps and moans bringing his bones more to life.

"¿Te gusta eso, amor? ¿Te gusta la forma en que se sienten mis dedos dentro de ti?" Miguel asked, speeding up his fingers, feeling your walls clench around him. (Do you like that, love? Do you like the way my fingers feel inside you?)

"Y-yes, Miggy! 'M.. close!" You gasp out, your eyes fluttering in pleasure. He gripped your neck softly, making you look up at him.

"Cum for me, mami. You're doing such a good job for me." Miguel murmured, his fingers speeding up, feeling your walls clenching his fingers.

A knock on the door sent a shock through your system, making you freeze in his arms. He paused for a moment, before beginning to thrust his fingers back inside you.

"Yes?" His voice was calm, like he wasn't fingering your cunt, his thumb flicking your clit. He smirked at you, hearing Jess's voice.

"Hey, Miguel. We've got a meeting in 5." Jess said, speaking loud enough to be heard.

"Got it." He answered, his eyes fixated on you, as he watched you struggle to keep yourself quiet.

Hearing Jess's footsteps fade, he sped up again, squeezing your neck again.

"Heard that, pretty? Cum for me, baby girl." He almost ordered, as he continued fucking your walls, his thumb rubbing your clit.

Your head fell back as you cried out, your orgasm washing over you. Miguel continued fucking you through your orgasm, his cock hard.

Your chest was heaving as Miguel placed you on the bed, cleaning you up softly. He kissed your head, stroking your cheek.

"Stay here for me, pretty girl. I'll make it worth your while tonight." Miguel whispered, kissing your lips softly before he stood up, leaving for his meeting.

You definitely were going to wait for him.

[lvrtwn]

venus if she was awesome

speedpaint and more thoughts under the cut

venus has always been one of my favorite characters, though i feel her design is pretty underwhelming with a lot of wasted potential. this is kind of a redesign, kind of my own personal headcannon, and kind of how i imagined venus in my head as a kid.

this is supposed to be my version of g1 venus, more similar in facial features and keeping the straight hair. i absolutely love her new hair and face in g3 but im hesitant to call the new outfit an improvement. both g1s outfit and g3s outfit are bad in their own ways. i dont want it to seem like im shitting on the new design. again i think the face sculpts, hair, and body types of g3 are so awesome. its great to see more diversity being included in the designs. i just decided to go with g1 venuses look because thats the venus i grew up with

i definitely took some inspiration from g3s outfit for this design. i like the idea of it but the execution is just not great, not to say her original outfit is any better. i feel like out of all of tge original monsters she was the one with the most waisted potential. i love her personality and the abilities she has but the way she was styled has always bothered me.

in the movies shes described as “eco-punk” which is SUCH a cool style to go with a plant monster character. i just feel like the “punk” in “eco-punk” was never really represented in her outfits. i personally love punk music and clothing; ive been an active member in my local diy scene for many years and i love seeing all the outfits people put together.

i thought i would give her an outfit that shows off a couple of my personal favorite staples of punk style. big chunky leather boots with lots of straps and buckles. kept the shoe mouths from the original because they cool as hell. lots of leather, studs, spikes. i gave her denim cutoff shorts inspired by her gen 3 outfit, same with the torn black top. punk style has a big focus on comfort, practicality, and making things yourself. i imagine she cut a pair of old pants into shorts, roughly cut her “undead kennedys”band shirt tank into a crop top, and probably repurposed the remaining fabric. i also totally didnt draw this whole thing as an excuse to use that pun. i included asymmetrical leg accessories, with one fishnet stocking and one torn up sock. i also feel like she repurposed these, continuing to wear her old torn up socks instead of just throwing them out. i gave her a big chunky studded belt matching one of her cuffs with a recycling symbol belt buckle. i feel like it communicates an important aspect of her personality just at a glance, plus i just love big belt buckles. lastly i added piercings because 1. theyre cool and 2. i for some reason remembered her having an eyebrow piercing but i guess she never had one.

i mostly kept her body and hair the same. changed her ears and hair color slightly but thats just personal preference. i decided to make the vines on her body look more like tattoos instead of being 3d. i imagine she can make them grow into real vines, but when shes not using her powers theyre just flat against her skin. gave her a facial expression that made her look a little more unhinged. she might only do things for the good of the earth but she can still mind control people at will.

i wish i leaned a little bit more into the plant theming but im overall still super happy with how this came out. maybe ill made more monster high redesigns in the future

[bestbouy]

i think i just love the idea of the different universes with their like, styles???

like how Gwen's is totally watercolor and Hobie's is all scrapbookish punk n newspaper, y'know???? and, of course, Miles and Pavitr's are both more "normal" but they still have that... you know... v i b e... they're both normal but they have elements that make it their own. Like how Pavitr's universe is mainly super warm colors?

anyways this got me thinking y'know how it's super obvious Hobie has a different universe style?? not so much for Gwen because hers is a little different, but with the whole. changing skin, the OUTLINE, it's very obvious

I think it'd be super cool if in Hobie's universe, it's kind of like the opposite for anybody who's not from it? They have their own like, radius of... their own dimension???

I'm only comparing this to Hobie's dimension, it's very obvious none of this would happen in CANON so I'm literally just spitballing. Also because Hobie is the only one with the outline and funny overlay thing, and it'd be fun to play around with the other three's possible like,,, vibe!!

Gwen would leave like, imprints of watercolor? like dabbing it on a piece of paper, leaving color that dries out back to normal over time?? it would bleed into the world around her, it might even mimic her emotions with the color!

If she was upset it would be harsh, spread more, it would come out in spiked reds and blacks?

happy would seep in a lot more subtly, and cover a lot more space, but you wouldn't realize how much room it's taking up just because it's so slow to take it up and really is only at about.. idk, 20% opacity, slowly builds up the happier she gets? it would be more visible in puddles, just like with normal watercolor (Compared to anger, which would be very in-your-face and obvious)

It would rely a lot on her emotions, methinks, the stronger they are, the more visible the color!

Miles would have a sketchy, drawing-like atmosphere to him, kind of like what you can see on the spot y'know? and, since the spot came from Miles' dimension, I think it makes sense!

It would be less noticeable, but the things he interacts with would probably turn into a slightly stylized version of itself? A cup he holds or drinks from wouldn't change DRAMATICALLY, but it might copy his look and have sketch-like lines around it. Nothing huge, but enough that you can tell what he's touched in the past few minutes/hours

Pavitr would have a similar vibe to Gwen's, but with warm colors instead! His effect wouldn't change with emotions like hers, but it would probably bleed in the same way as hers. He would leave behind trails of warm oranges and yellows wherever he goes and leaving it behind on what he touches. He wouldn't notice this, but it would be veeery obvious to Hobie or anybody from his dimension.

Actually, I think the way that we can spot Hobie because of his differences in outline/radius effect would highly apply to them in his dimension! Everybody in Hobie's world can CLEARLY tell that Gwen, Miles and Pav aren't from there, and while the common person might not recognize they're from another universe, they might get the same feeling as if you were seeing like.. a skinwalker, or something. They're human, but it doesn't feel like it.

ANYWAYS back to Pavitr

He has a warm, cozy vibe, I think unlike the others his can seep more into emotions, I think he's an empathetic person and that melts into his little area effect. if he's super happy or excited about something the people around him get a tiny bit happier too!! when he's sad (and it's rly hard to make him sad bc this boy is POSITIVE THINKER #1) his colors get a bit colder, but I don't think they would affect other people like his happy ones do, honestly just SEEING such a normally happy guy so sad would do enough to ur mood than some radius effect lol

ANYWAYS that's just a lil thought. they are silly. and this is going into my ideas folder. have a good one n remember to drink water

(I would go on but this is super long already XD)

[yuri-is-online]

i’ve got this picture of Yutu being kind of artsy from your description. besides, being an outcast probably means a lot of solo hobbies from no friends. maybe a bonding method for Yutus with a father that is more artistic 👉👈

You have such a good point about being an outcast driving people towards solo hobbies σ(￣、￣=) certain Yutus are more outgoing than others but that does only get you so far.  Of the ones I have written about, Floyd! and Cater! Yutu both had friend circles before coming to Twisted Wonderland, while Ace!, Azul!, and Riddle! Yutu were certifiably friendless.  Bonding between Yutu and a more artistic dad hmmmmm let's see...

notes: they/them used for Yuu, this is part of my fyuuture kid au, you can find an explanation of it here and here, or look at my masterlist for all of the posts.

Vil! Yutu

... really likes to paint and draw, when I first wrote about him his unique magic involved temporarily bringing his paintings to life.  My brother used to dig through old fashion mags when he was teaching himself to draw and I can see Yutu doing the same.  So when he finally gets to see a not tortured version of his father and finds out he is a model on top of being an actor?  He's so eager to learn about all of it, and Vil has got to be thrilled to share.  You know between him and his own dad Vil has got to have a nice collection of vintage designer items he's willing to let Yutu have a look at.  Yutu has drawn his dad a lot, receiving a drawing someone has made for you is already beyond flattering, but when it's from a family member?  Forget the fridge, Vil is getting this framed.  I can also see him maybe commissioning Yutu because he wants to make sure he never under sells his work.  He is a member of the Schoenheit family, he is allowed, nay required to have a great deal of pride in himself.

Cater! Yutu

... likes playing guitar and he loves playing with his dad.  He's not really interested in playing with the other pop music club members, Yutu is a bit shy around his dad's friends.  When he's stressed he likes to play a few songs and sing, something I could see working for Cater too.  While I'm talking about Cater, I don't think he'd make a bunch of magicam posts about his family, just in general.  He uses magicam as a way of maintaining his false happy facade, his want to date Vil comes at least partially from his presence on magicam, some of his real self is on display there sure but a lot of it is exaggerated and fake.  When he has something real he wants to keep it away from the rest of the world, so while his followers absolutely are told he's #taken #blessed they don't know about the details of his relationship.  At least not if it's a healthy one.

Jade! Yutu

... is someone I haven't written about before but he is also very into music, just not jazz music.  Not that he hates jazz, he's just stuck in that teenage phase of refusing to admit the things his dad likes are cool, something Jade reasonably “sniffles” about but that's not to say music isn't a bonding point for them.  He also plays bass, just an electric not an upright one, and Jade enjoys listening to Yutu play.  He's very supportive and surprisingly soft in his praise for someone who just got done listening to his kid scream out a punk rock song.  As long as Yutu is willing to do some hiking with him (which he is) then he has no real problem with what his kid likes, if anything I can see Jade enjoying their differences.  Life is boring if everyone is the same.

Rook! Yutu

I've been thinking about Rook, just as a character recently and one of those things that's been stuck in my mind is that he was very shy as a child.  To keep this from becoming just general information about Rook! Yutu, unlike his father Yutu never got over his shyness, so a lot of their bonding revolves around Rook encouraging Yutu to see the beauty in himself.  He books tickets to shows, symphonies, and ballets in advance so he can make sure Yutu knows when they are going out and can prepare himself to be seen in public.  They plan their outfits together in advance, look up information about the company and what they are going to see so they can appreciate the art just that much more.  On the day of Rook makes sure to kiss Yuu goodbye,  and promises to come home safe.  But not to worry, he always has Yutu help him pick out a bouquet of flowers to bring back for you.  (Unless you're allergic to pollen in which case he'll bring home something else.)

[depressopax]

HII could you maybe write something for Berlin like HCs being in a relationship with him, maybe with connections to the new show or sm.

(Im actually so glad I found someone who writes for this fandom bc there’s literally no one nearly 😭)

Berlin - Relationship headcanons

Thank you for the request!! <3 I'm happy to see more LCDP fans here omg 😭 Hope ya like it! :)

Smut version can be found here

Pairing: Berlin/Andrés de Fonollosa x gn!reader Genre: Fluff, headcanons Warning(s): Spoilers for LCDP. Cuss words, Berlin being a bit possessive, reader uses they/them pronouns Words: 1145 Summary: Being in a relationship with Berlin would include…  English is not my first language - lmk if there's any spelling mistakes so I can improve my writing! &lt;3

Being in a relationship with this man would be a roller-coaster of emotions…

But you can’t really complain!

People see him as “cold and self-centered”, which is partially true.

BUT when he’s in love, it’s like his whole personality changes.

You are his whole world, and he will do everything to put his ego aside, and show you just how loving he can be.

And boy, he succeeds… 

When he first saw you, it was love at first sight, or at least for him.

He would find out everything about you, what you like to eat, what hobbies you have, and the places you like to be at.

He would just wait for you to approach him first, but it wasn’t that easy…

After a while, he stopped being stubborn and started talking to you.

Berlin would make sure you fall for him, and that would be his biggest goal.

He would take you on extraordinary dates and totally spoil you.

He prefers calm private dates, but wouldn’t mind going to a bar/nightclub if you like that.

Despite his sophisticated looks, he knows how to party. (That one scene in Berlin when he’s at the punk club LMAOO)

Seeing you hyped up makes him happy, so how can he not love partying with you?

The two of you having lazy mornings together. Berlin is a night owl, and getting him out of bed in the morning is a challenge.

He’ll also never let you leave bed. - “Just 5 more minutes, love! - “Are you gonna leave me, all cold and lonely in bed, huh?”

Berlin wouldn’t give up his flirting until you fall in love with him. 

Once that happens - he won’t shut up about you

Like, EVER.

He would drive Sergio and his other friends insane with how much he talks about you, telling them a bit too much about his love life… 

Berlin is the cheesiest guy you’ll ever meet, tbh.

And he takes that as a compliment.

He would write you love letters, send good-morning AND goodnight messages to you, and bring you flowers every now and then. 

Berlin is a man with many talents, and he loves impressing you, especially with his singing

Cheesy as it sounds, he even sings you serenades to express his love and devotion.

You’d have to put up with his weird and impulsive ideas.

Whether it’s planning a spontaneous trip, a heist, etc…

He needs someone to tell him to calm the hell down lol

As seen in the show, Berlin is very passionate and a bit unpredictable.

Being in a relationship is no exception.

Everyday with him is like an adventure, and he knows how to spice things up to not end up like a “boring couple”. 

His goal would be making sure the honeymoon phase never ends. 

He would make sure to tell you how amazing and good-looking you are EVERYDAY. 

He is not afraid to argue with you, but would rather admit he is “wrong” rather than have you be mad at him for too long. 

He’s not always good at reading your emotions and knows what you’re feeling, but tries to. 

It breaks his heart to see you upset, and will try to make you feel better. 

He can be rather possessive too. If someone stares at you for a bit too long, or flirt with you, he’s not afraid to show them that “you are his”.

He’s extra protective of you when you are around his friends. He wants to make sure you feel safe, and also that no one tries hitting on you…

Especially if you are shy, he’d be very close to you, smile at you when you talk and laugh extra loud if you say something funny. 

He makes sure your friends like him. 

He wants to make a good impression on everyone, but especially when it is your friends and family. 

Big fan of PDA. He’s a man that is not afraid to kiss you in public, and he practically never lets go of your hand when you’re outdoors together. 

When cuddling, he prefers being the big spoon. 

One of Berlin’s love languages is touch.

He enjoys having his hand on your thigh, giving your shoulders soft massages, and forehead kisses. He’s the type of guy to kiss your hands, too.

If you have long hair, he tends to fidget with it, running his fingers through it, stroking it away from your face and even braiding it.

Berlin definitely treats you like a god/goddess. 

But the relationship would also be challenging from time to time.

Berlin being a criminal does bother you.

Your fear is for him to get caught and end up in jail.

He’d have to reassure you a lot that he won’t get caught, promising you that he will be fine.

But don’t worry, he makes sure to keep that promise. 

His pet names for you: (My) love, honey, babe… 

His phone is full with pictures of you and you’re definitely both his home- and lock-screen. 

He has lots of money, and spends them on you, whether you like it or not. 

Berlin enjoys luxury and wants to give you a luxurious life.

His dream is to travel and see the world with you by his side.

If you don’t speak Spanish, he would offer to teach it to you. 

He is very overprotective and makes sure you keep a distance from his work. 

But he does enjoy impressing you with dramatic stories about his heists.

During his most difficult and dangerous heists, he will think of you and keep on fighting so he can come back home to you. 

When he’s away for a longer time, Berlin makes sure to text and call you with regular updates. But in all honesty, he just misses your voice.

Like I said earlier, he is an unpredictable man, and if someone is mean to you, yikes… - “Just drop it, Andrés!” “No, babe… I’ll have a ‘chat’ with them…”

Remember the throwback scene of Berlin and the man that made fun of his bow tie? 

Let’s just say, whoever insulted you will return to you and apologize, trembling and crying from pain and fright.  

…Berlin would just return to you with a smug smile, pretending like nothing happened… 

And act all clueless when you confront him about it. 

With you, Berlin is soft and passionate, but others view him as your “scary boyfriend”, a title he accepts with pride. 

To summarize… Despite Berlin's cold exterior, he is the complete opposite with you. He has so much love to give, and isn’t scared to do so. He will make sure to worship you and make sure you feel loved. All he wants is to spend his time with you, and give you the passion, excitement and devotion you deserve. Being together with him is definitely not boring.

I have such hate-love relationship to Berlin bruh 😭 Andrés in Berlin >>>>>>> LCDP

[sleepy-rara]

finally got around to posting this but here’s sir pentious and niffty!

I’m gonna be honest I hate these designs A TINY BIT. I love most aspects of the designs but things will be changed in the future lol anyway onto character stuff

so niffty first. She has much more of a steam punk look, the eyes of the hat are swapped in amount. (pen has one eye on his hat and niffty has two in this version) I didn’t put this in the ref sheet but her version of the egg boys are cute roaches (yes I will do my damndest to make them cute)

and with sir pentious I just wanted him to look like a butler or cleaner. I think did good with that but I wish I had switched their hair lengths :/ he obviously has apple buttons to show he’s owned by Charlie suddenly. She likes having a little something on them that reminds them that they’re “her’s”. Over all he’s just a silly over active guy who’s a little crazy.

I’m definitely going elaborate on Charlie’s character cuz fuck she’s fun to write.

I’m definitely changing things as I move forward but that will only be seen in the future <3

[demolition-lesbians]

Rolling Stone #1119 December 9, 2010 - The Playlist Issue

(click for better quality) Here's the playlist if you want to take a listen! Transcript:

Gerard Way: Glam Rock

My Chemical Romance's frontman grew up a metalhead, but when he heard Iron Maiden's lead singer, Bruce Dickinson, cover Mott the Hoople's "All the Young Dudes," he discovered a whole other world, "I knew I had to find out more," Way says, "To some people, glam is just about makeup. To me, it's a very magical thing almost like witchcraft."

1: "Ziggy Stardust" David Bowie, 1972

This song defines glam. It was also the first thing in rock that really challenged people's notions of sexual orientation. Bowie actually sings about a man's ass! 2: "Children of the Revolution" T. Rex, 1972

You always knew Bowie would make it out alive and turn into another character; with Marc Bolan you didn't know that. He came across as very vulnerable. 3: "All the Young Dudes" Mott the Hoople, 1972

This is kind of a cheat because David Bowie wrote it for them, but I always preferred the Mott the Hoople version. By this point, Bowie was talking about the actual glam movement, which is why it's about kids stealing makeup and breaking into unlocked cars. Glam became about the kid in the room, the poster on the wall, putting on a women's short fur coat and eyeliner, with no shirt on, just listening to this music. 4: "Ballroom Blitz" Sweet, 1973

They completely break the fourth wall when the song opens up and they're calling each other by name. We emulated that on our song "Vampire Money." It literally starts out just like "Ballroom Blitz" does. 5: "Cum On Feel the Noize" Slade, 1973

Obviously, everybody knows this for the Quiet Riot version, but when you hear the original you realize just how bold it is. The soundscape they created is probably one of the best out of all the glam-rock bands. 6: "Love Is the Drug" Roxy Music, 1975

Roxy Music took the glam thing and then modified it. Bryan Ferry looks nothing like a glam artist, and that's what I love about him. He's wearing this great suit and he's got short hair and he's so romantic. Maybe some people wouldn't consider Roxy Music a glam band, but I do, for a lot of reasons. A major one is that they used to have Brian Eno behind the keyboard wearing feathers on his shoulders and eye shadow.

7: "Needles in the Camel's Eye" Brian Eno, 1974

Speaking of Eno, this is the first track on his first solo album. It's the glammiest track on the record. As soon as he finishes that song, he's almost over it, and he's moved on to something else. Besides Bowie, Eno is still the most important artist to me of the glam scene. When you heard his first album, you knew it was gonna be his last glam record. He just needed to do it once and he was done. 8: "Clones (We're All)" Alice Cooper, 1980

With "Clones," Alice Cooper was moving into the glam of the future, like this kind of Blade Runner replicant version of glam. Alice Cooper doesn't get enough credit for being a glam artist. A lot of people just say, "Oh, he's shock rock," but I think he's way more Rocky Horror than he is shock rock. 9: "48 Crash" Suzi Quatro, 1973

She's the most unsung glam rocker. She's also the prototype for the Runaways. "48 Crash" is one of her more aggressive songs. She looks amazing on the cover, wearing this black cat suit. Everything about the song is magic. 10: "Personality Crisis" New York Dolls, 1973

They were a lot more punk, but I will always consider the New York Dolls glam by the nature of how they looked and their attitude. They took glam to America and really challenged the sexuality of it. They also had Johnny Thunders, who's basically like the American Mick Ronson.

[film-in-my-soul]

another regular appointment | 906 | softestpunk / @softest-punk

Summary: The bricks of The New Inn, slick with rain, bite into Dream’s back even through the insulating layer of his coat, but any momentary shock of pain is instantly swallowed up by the warm sanctuary of an eager mouth. It is unprofessional, of course, making repeat visits to the dreams of a particular dreamer without proper cause.

Recompense | 1,445 | Lilibet

Summary: In hindsight, pressing the King of Dreams, an endlessly immortal being of unfathomable power, against the wall of The New Inn is probably not one of Hob’s best ideas.

verdant, fertile, and blooming | 1,893 | softestpunk / @softest-punk

Summary: The Dreaming enjoys Hob's visits very much—to Dream's increasing distress.

lonesome nights are over | 1,934 | thewalrus_said / @thewalrus-said

Summary: Hob's restraint broke at the one-year mark, six months since the start of their odd, circumstantial friendship. "Tell me truly, Dream, have you ever paid for a drink in your life?" Dream blinked, looking down at his half-empty glass. "What?" he asked, a rare loss of words from him. "Every month, someone pays for your drink for you, and you've never taken them up on it," Hob said. "Were you really not interested in any of them?" "Interested?" Dream's brow furrowed, like he was trying to understand and couldn't. "Interested in what?"

let me in before the rainy season starts again | 2,633 | tiltingheartand / @tiltingheartand

Summary: “Oh shit,” he says, eyes wide. And then, “oh fuck,” as he’s scooting backwards as quick as he can, “sorry, sorry, I’m sorry,” because what else can you say when you realize, oh, that’s not just a version of your friend that your brain conjured up, that’s your actual friend, the anthropomorphic personification of dreams, in your actual dream. The dream where you’re naked and waiting for him to come be naked with you.

Please see below for more recommendations!

all i want is to be a bit warm for you | 7,848 | im_not_corrupted / @im-not-corrupted

Summary: Upon escaping Fawney Rig, the King of Dreams does not feel anything. His skin is numb to feeling. Desperate to feel something other than the cold that became a constant companion since he was so cruelly caged, he makes himself bleed. Still, he doesn’t feel it. During one of their weekly meetings, Hob notices. And he watches as it becomes a pattern. Concerned, he inevitably brings it up, only to learn more about where his friend had been in their century apart than he expected.

How Adam Loved Eve | 9,761 | Moorishflower / @moorishflower

Summary: It's said in the Bible that when the Lord took the rib from Adam and used it to craft Eve, there upon her breast, where the rib rested beneath her skin, was Adam's name writ in the old language of angels and higher powers. Hob wonders, sometimes, if Adam bore Eve's name somewhere upon his person, or if she spent the rest of her life wondering if God had chained a man to her that would never love her back. Everyone is born with the name of their soulmate as a mark on their palm. Hob Gadling is born with a thousand titles in looping scrawl on his arm and a name on his palm that no one can see but him.

Real People | 9,781 | spqr / @andthepeople

Summary: Desire’s blood red lips curl into a smile so knowing and devious that Dream’s heart drops into his stomach. “I know,” they say, nearly purring. “As an apology, dear brother, I’ll give you the one thing you want most in the universe. The thing you don’t even know you’re yearning for.”

À Cœur Vaillant | 10,156 | WyvernQuill / @wyvernquill

Summary: The young man turned, and asked, determination and cowardice both flickering in his eyes, “Professor, do you think it’s wicked to help the devil?” For a moment, Hob thought - and tried to not let his mind dwell overly long on an entity he had long thought demonic. Is it wicked to help the devil? Less than to love one, surely.

What Manner Of Creature | 13,727 | Myrocongridae (Anguilliformes)

Summary: Hob's had a number of theories about his strange friend over the years. They are all, of course, completely incorrect.

Terms of Endearment | 13,871 | BeholdingTheGaytimes / @beholdingthegaytimes

Summary: It’s been somewhere between two or three months, he reckons, since Hob started consistently having domestic dreams about a man he hasn’t seen in about a hundred and thirty years. It’s only a bit mortifying. Dreams and the subconscious are odd, and he’s not going to start judging himself now for any wanton desires.

Hope and Stubbornness Endure | 14,028 | icarus_chained

Summary: There are consequences to being caught in nightmares not your own, in the tormented memories of beings infinitely more powerful than you. Hob Gadling doesn't care. Nightmares can't kill him. And if this was ever real, he has no choice but to try and fight it now. To show ... to show his friend that he would have rescued him. If he'd known. He would have tried, no matter what it cost.

I have lately learned the difference | 18,085 | Chthonion / @chthonion

Summary: While Dream is imprisoned, Hob dreams of prisons, until, one by one, all of them take the same shape: a glass cage. Hob doesn't realize why until he meets Dream again, and the dreams don’t stop afterward.

In the Arms of Morpheus | 18,473 | Kavute / @mashumaru

Summary: In the year 1916 the sleepy sickness struck the world. Over the years millions of people were affected with no real cure or known cause. Hob Gadling, currently known as Robert Gadlen, a respected neuroscientist, uses his time to try to solve the mystery of sleepy sickness and missing dreams. When the old familiar Stranger returns to his life, Hob's understanding of the world shifts once more.

Get Lonely | 19,058 | Moorishflower / @moorishflower

Summary: It has been four months and two weeks since Orpheus died. Struggling to come to terms with his role in the death of his son, newly-divorced ghostwriter Dream Murphy finds solace in an ASMR YouTube channel run by a kind, faceless man. When he starts to feel more than gratitude for the man to whom he credits his recovery, he must make the difficult choice between standing sentinel over his son's memory, or moving forward with his life.

string of pearls (by fate's design) | 21,642 | youcanseethecosmos / @youcanseethecosmos

Summary: He knew of Roderick Burgess. Every man, woman, child, and dog has heard of The Great Collector and his labyrinth of mythical creatures. Hob had never been rich enough to get invited to the shows and parties Burgess would throw at his mansion. Nor was he ever sneaky enough to attempt pretending he was a nobleman. But Hob knew what happened at those parties by observing others. Listening in on drunken rambles of the aristocracy who enter The White Horse to escape their totally miserable lavish lives. What a bunch of cunts they are. But again… a job is a job.

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