#how do I write again?

[bittersqxtch]

drop this sunflower 🌻 into the inboxes of the blogs that make you happy! lets spread a little sunshine ☀️💙

i miss you sooo much, now that the penthouse in on my country Netflix, i can see the scenarios of your the penthouse fic.

OMG MY PENTHOUSE FIC-

I feel like a mother who forgot their child at the store ㅠㅠ I need to go back and take care of that story because I miss it so much now that you've reminded me!!

tbh these past few months haven't been great for writing which is why I was absent from here and wattpad, but since things are more or less normalising now I'm gonna slowly get back into it and hopefully (🤞) update something soon.

[theseneschalxin]

“People often ask why I let my hair grow so long. It is a symbol of my devotion to Demacia and the freedom they provide me” “...” “I fear losing my hair so I wish to keep as much as as I can for as long as I can”

[xandrikart]

[ironunderstands]

The way some of yall mischaracterize Ratio as being stoic in chill when in reality he is 24/7 resisting the urge to rip everyone around him a new one is crazy to me like. He cares so much, so much. It’s unhealthy, he loses the idgaf war every time because Ratio is the least nonchalant person ever like

He was this close to breaking character and throttling Sunday like you cannot tell me he wasn’t planning a murder in this scene. Ratio straight up calls Sunday a crazy bitch but everyone brushed it aside 😭

Honestly his entire conversation with Screwllum is just him tweaking, watch it on YouTube the VAs performance is amazing, you can here just how much He Cares

Genuinely, Aventurine is way better at concealing his true feelings that Ratio. Ratio may be acting for the sake of the plan but the way he truly feels about anything he’s doing always seeps through, it’s why he apologizes to Aventurine in 2.0 in their staged argument scene. It’s why he is as mean to Sunday as he can be. It’s why him pretending that he “hates” Aventurine makes him act so silly. Ratio can’t fully commit to the bit, he can’t force himself to not care or to be someone he isn’t, because fundamentally Ratio CARES and that is something he is incapable of hiding, alabaster bust or not.

The problem is that him expressing his care is often done in a rude and/or blunt manner which people tend to interpret as stoicism or apathy when it’s anything but. Ratio’s vial that he gives to Aventurine is short, sweet and gets straight to the point, because that’s the easiest way for Ratio to express his emotions, even if it’s often detrimental for him and anyone else around him. However Aventurine understands him quite well, and knows that although brief, Ratio telling him to “stay alive, survive this and keep on living” is how he truly feels towards Aventurine, and that’s enough to keep him going.

Underneath Ratios carefully crafted marble facade is a man who cares so much and is so bad at expressing it and I wish the community in general, especially Aventio shippers would acknowledge that more. Ratios true moments of sincerity are brief, but they are anything but stoic. Let the man be soft, it’s in character.

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

Hey hey hey may 31th anon! How's 2024 going? ☆ヾ(*´▽｀)ﾉ This year I have for you a leaked Sherlock season 5 image. Thinking of you!! And everyone!!

[thefloatingstone]

Appleseed PDA montage to save you from reading endless pages of unimportant politics that don't amount to anything

also because I have nothing better to do, I'm bored, I'm moody, my gaming laptop is still broken so no BG3, and it's too late at night to start drawing after doing animation clean-up all day.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki’s extra clingy when he’s sleepy. you know he’s sleepy because he hasn’t left you alone since he came back from his sparring session with kirishima.

it’s almost funny how The katsuki bakugou who’s so scary, who’s all sharp glares and huffs and pinched eyebrows, is hanging off your shoulders like a big fat baby.

“katsuki.” you start, softly rubbing one of his arms tightly wrapped around your shoulder. he grunts. “you can go to bed if you’re tired, handsome. i’ll come up later.” you look back at him as much as you can since he’s barely letting you breathe with how tightly he’s holding you. he huffs, droopy red eyes glaring down at the sandwich you were making for yourself like it was at fault for keeping you out of bed with him.

“ m’not tired.” he slurs, his hold tightens on you and he shoves his head into your shoulder. his hair tickles and you shuffle to the side a little. he follows.

you giggle to yourself. usually, katsuki would have some qualms about being so touchy where someone could walk in at anytime. it’s not like he was ashamed of being with you (not even close) but he has a reputation to uphold, y’know?

as if on cue, he yawns into your shoulder. you let out a light laugh and he nips at your shoulder in retaliation. “ i thought you said you weren’t tired ? what happened to that ?” you question teasingly, a sly little smile forming on your face. he mumbles something into your shoulder you can’t make out. “ i can’t hear you, love.” he groans, lifting his head up slightly but his eyes are still closed. “ s’cus yer takin’ forever. by the time you’re done i’ll be fuckin’ dead, dumbass.” he says before dropping his head back down on your shoulder like a load of bricks and you snort.

“ i’m done. i just want to go eat this sitting down but i can’t because someone won’t let me move.” you shoulder him lightly, he doesn’t budge, but grunts nonetheless.

“ jus’ eat it here.”

“ i’m not eating my sandwich standing up, katsuki.”

“ why the fuck not ?”

“ because !” you laugh “ i wanna enjoy my food !”

“ can enjoy it just fine with me here. why’re ya trying to get away from me ? s’your food less enjoyable when i’m around or somethin’ ?”

you roll your eyes but the smile on your face grows wider. “you’re such a baby.” you let out a light squeal when he pokes your side and lightly smack his arm, he huffs out a little laugh into your shoulder.

“katsuki !”

“fuck you, m’not a baby.”

“ could’ve fooled m—ow ! oh my god !” you yelp as he bites you and the fucker laughs. you huff, grabbing his arms to try to free yourself of the clutches of this absolute demon. he stops laughing then, grunting and groaning at you like you were the one inconveniencing him, while still keeping his head secure in your shoulder. the nerve of this guy.

“ katsuki.” you groan and he growls at you again, like a wild animal, like he’s daring you to try to escape him again. you sigh “ okay, okay, fine. you win, okay?” you say, admitting defeat while you can lest you have a sleepy, pissed off bakugou hanging off you.

“m’not a baby.”

“you’re not a baby.” you confirm. he squeezes you a little tighter and you sigh again. “can i at least go sit down ? i’ll even hold your hand on the way there, is that good ?” you say sarcastically. you snort when he lets out a grumble and pokes at your side and you can feel the unmistakable frown he has on his face.

“ told you m’not a baby.” he complains but he (begrudgingly) lets you go to let you move around. you turn around and he follows immediately. you have to hold back a laugh at the thought of a big buff bad boy like katsuki following you around like a lost puppy. you hold back your laughter but you’ve still got a dorky smile on your face when you sit down. katsuki’s not too far behind you, he never is. he pushes his chair way closer than it needs to be next to you and your knee is pressed against his when he sits down.

“what’re you grinning about, huh ?” you turn to look at him, dorky smile still very much on your face as you gaze at him. he’s still got that horrible frown on his face but his eyebrows aren’t scrunched up anymore, one of his perfect eyebrows is lifted up questioningly and he’s sitting so close to you you’re sure you can count the exact number of lashes he has.

“nothin’.” you sing, taking a bite of your sandwich. he huffs but doesn’t pry further. instead, he leans closer to you. you make eye contact and he looks at you expectantly. you know what he wants after a second, but you’re not gonna give it to him so easily. “ did you need something?” you ask innocently. his eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he’s glaring at you, he’s figured you out. he huffs for the umpteenth time today and he squints at you harder when you giggle lightly.

“ gimme some.” he says gruffly, already opening his mouth slightly like he knows you’ll share with him. and he’s right, because you do. you bring your sandwich closer to his face and he takes a bite, humming contentedly before leaning back into a more comfortable position, never too far though.

“you always take huge bites out of my food, my sandwich’s basically gone.” you tease, playfully pouting dejectedly at your sandwich, holding back a snort when he scoffs at you, offended.

“ fuck off.” he spits, but there’s no animosity in his words. he resorts to pinching your thigh to make up for it,“ didn’t even eat much, you big baby.” he says. usually he’d have something smarter to say but he’s tired now, and you originally intended to take full advantage of the situation, but you’re feeling nice today. he’s tired and you’ve made him wait long enough, in his eyes at least.

you roll your eyes, deciding to ignore his comment and take another bite of your sandwich. you eat in silence and he doesn’t say anything else after that. when you finish he practically jumps up from his seat despite his lack of energy, looking at you expectantly as if to say ‘let’s go already.” you giggle.

“ i hear you, handsome.” you coo, going over to place your plate in the sink, you could wash your plate later when he falls asleep, probably (if he somehow decides to let you go).

you feel like being a little mean to him as you stay where you’re standing by the sink and sigh. katsuki, who had already turned around to go upstairs, turns to you, eyebrow raised in question.

you hum, placing a finger on your chin “ i dunno, i still don’t feel full, maybe i should make another-"

you’re dragged by your arm towards him before you can even fully comprehend what’s happening or even finish your sentence. you let out a big belly laugh when he grumbles. he suddenly has you lifted over his shoulder and you yelp, wondering where the hell this herculean strength came from despite him being so tired.

“ m’tired of your shit, quit fuckin’ around so i can go to bed.” he slaps the back of your thigh lightly and you gasp, but you’re still giggling a little. “you know, you could’ve just went ahead with out me, i would’ve come eventually.” he scoffs like you had just told him something utterly foolish, like the concept of sleeping without you was unfathomable to him, you smile harder at the thought.

“ don’t be stupid,” he mumbles “as if i could do that.” he adds the last part quietly but you catch it either way, there’s blood rushing to your cheeks and you don’t know if it’s because you’re slightly embarrassed by his honesty or if its because he’s been holding you upside down this whole time.

when you get to the elevator, he places you back down. grabs you by the shoulders and squeezes like he’s trying to weld you to the floor and make sure you won’t move. “ we’re going to bed, now.” his tone is decided, clear. you’re not fighting him on this and you honestly don’t want to.

instead you smile, grabbing his hand and squeeze “okay, let’s.” you beam.

he squeezes back.

[mediumgayitalian]

“Oh, fuck.”

The clatter of her practice sword on the ground is almost louder than the crunch that rings out from his wrist. He inhales sharply, biting back a shout — no matter how many times it’s happened, he will never get used to breaking a bone. That shit hurts.

“Fuck, fuck fuck. Fuck, Seaweed Brain, is it broken?”

“Think so,” Percy grits out. He tries for a smile, and Annabeth matches it, small and worried. He leans into the hand she cups over his cheek. “Not too bad, though. If I just dump my water bottle on it —”

“Absolutely not. Water healing leaves you achey when it rains, you know that.” Shifting to wrap her arm around his waist, she helps him stand, shouldering some of his weight like it’s his ankle that’s broken. He lets her, reaching down to squeeze the hand resting on his hip — I’m fine. We’re good. She turns her hand to wrap clasp their hands together — Okay. If you’re sure.

They walk together to the infirmary, taking their time. Aside from the pain pulsing from his arm, it’s not too bad — camp is as balmy as usual, and the spring break energy is practically visible, it’s so potent. The Demeter cabin has plants growing everywhere, flowers and fruit trees blooming as bright as a box of new crayons, and the air is filled with shouts of laughter and teasing. Annabeth’s steps fall in time with his, and she’s a comfortable warmth at his side, pressed from shoulder to hip.

“You still okay?”

“Yep.” He catches her eye, smiling crookedly at her. “Doesn’t even make my top fifty.”

She rolls her eyes, hipchecking him. “Don’t I know it, ya klutz.”

“Not sure I would call being flung from the St. Louis Arch being a klutz. Or exploded in a volcano. Or crushed under the sky. Or slashed by giants. Or chased by —”

“You’re talking, but all I’m hearing is Annabeth, please, please pinch me, as hard as you can —”

“Hey! Get those claws off me, gods you’re worse than an empousai —”

“— and when you’re done pinching me please put me in the tightest headlock you can manage —”

“I am injured! You are beating up an injured person right now!”

“— and then please just bite a chunk out of my shoulder —”

“Cut it out or I’m telling Mom!”

“Wimp,” she taunts, finally releasing him. “I don’t go running to Sally every time I lose a fight.”

“Wha — you do so!”

She ducks through the infirmary door, smirking like she can’t hear him.

“You literally — you snitched on me last week! I got grounded for two days!”

“And you deserved it,” she says primly.

He gapes. “I did not!”

“Anytime you two are done,” Kayla drawls, shoving a clipboard at them. They accept it with matching sheepish grins, cowed at her perfectly arched eyebrow and slowly tapping foot. “I got patients to deal with and older brothers to harass. Let’s get this moving.”

She is shockingly good at humbling people for a thirteen year old. The two of them turn to their clipboard, chagrined, letting her stomp away with an exasperated He’ll be with you soon! Don’t set off the sprinklers again!

“That was one time,” Percy mumbles, ears reddening.

Annabeth pats him on the back. “There, there,” she says mockingly. “The fact that it was one time definitely negates the fact that you flooded the entire Big House because you got jumpscared by a child.”

“Harley can be sneaky, okay. Let me live.”

“Literally no.”

Annabeth does most of the paperwork for him, ‘cause she’s a nerd because his wrist is far too swollen for him to write properly, so it takes maybe half the time it normally would. The infirmary is crowded as Hell, though (he knows, he’s been), so they settle in for the wait, amusing themselves by tearing little pieces off of a blank form, balling them up, and tossing them in increasingly harder places. Percy is winning 7-4, although Annabeth might just pull through if she manages to toss her paper ball into Travis’ wide-open snoring mouth.

“Hey, guys. Sorry for the wait.”

Aw. She missed. Percy was looking forward to that.

“Hey, Will.”

He drags his attention away from the son of Hermes to greet his friend, but frowns before he can open his mouth.

“Woah, dude, you good? You look exhausted.”

Will snorts. “Welcome to spring break, man.” He holds his hand out for the clipboard, scanning it briefly. “Sparring injury? Oh, thank the gods. I could use a break. Here, face me.”

He climbs up onto the minimal left over space on the cot, tucking his legs under his thighs. Percy turns to mirror him, hesitantly sticking out his arm — A break? he mouths to Annabeth, meeting her eyes over Will’s head.

She shrugs.

“Just spent four hours putting Jake’s nose back on his face,” Will mumbles, placing a careful hand on his fingertips and his forearm. Percy flinches — his skin is blisteringly hot. Like someone just dropped a hot stone onto him. “I never want to sing a skin cell hymn again in my life.” He prods at Percy’s wrist for a moment, gentle enough not to hurt. “Okay, hold still, I’m gonna fix ya right up.”

Healing hymns are familiar, by now, but Percy will never get tired of them.

The cool thing about ambrosia and nectar is that as pleasure food for the gods, it’s pleasant. It’s whatever taste you want, whatever you need to have most, you get it. But healing hymns are intentional the way nectar and ambrosia aren’t. Ambrosia and nectar happen to be healing for demigods — healing hymns were constructed to knit you back together, like you mother smoothing a bandaid over a skinned knee. They’re warm and sweet and deeply, endlessly comforting in a way most things simply cannot claim to be. They don’t feel like a medical procedure or a hasty patch job, they feel like someone gripping you tightly and promising you’ll be okay. They feel like getting carried to bed when you fall asleep on the couch. They feel like sitting down after hours of standing, like a drink of water when your throat is drier than sand. Healing hymns draw the pain and sick and ache from your body, and they feel like relief.

But this time, Percy can’t focus on it.

With every word, Will seems to get a little duller. Nothing like the horrible ash-grey he went in the war, dragging the poison from Annabeth’s body, but like his usual sunny disposition was dialed down a few notches. Enough that Annabeth frowns in concern, drumming her hands on her thighs, watching him closely.

“There,” Will says, pulling away. Percy turns his now-healed wrist, noticing the slight pant to Will’s breath, the strain to his smile. The shake of his blistered fingertips.

“You look overworked,” Annabeth says quietly.

Will holds his hands up in a what can you do gesture. “Spring break.”

“You said.”

“It’s just busy, is all.”

“Yeah, but —”

“Guys,” he interrupts, smiling tiredly, “there are two hundred ADHD demigods at this camp right now who have been trapped in a classroom for six months. There are three of us. I’m going to be a little drained; we’re all a little drained. But I’m fine, okay?” He gives them a second to scrutinize his expression, eyebrows raised in amusement. “I have been running my infirmary for years. I know how to pace myself, and I certainly know how to make sure my siblings are pacing themselves. If something goes really wrong, Chiron is a whistle away. I can go longer than you guys without sleep, anyway. Apollo kid health.”

“If you say so,” Percy says reluctantly. “I just — I can wear a wrist brace, man. Not every injury needs to be handled when it happens. You can tell people no.”

“I appreciate that, Percy, and I’ll keep it in mind. Anyways, I’ve got more patients. Stay off that wrist for the rest of the day, okay? It might be tender for a bit.”

Percy turns to Annabeth as Will leaves, frowning. He’s has never noticed the so-called spring break stress before (his camp spring breaks are usually a blast, but now that he’s thinking about it, he can’t think of a single spring break where he spent any time at all with Will, which is odd), but it can’t be good for him. There’s gotta be something they can do to ease some of the bruising under their friend’s eyes.

“I could set off the fire alarms again,” Percy suggests. “That’ll certainly get this place cleared out.”

Annabeth snorts. “I think that’ll cause more harm than good, Seaweed Brain. It’ll just fall in him to clean it all up, after.”

“Shoot.”

Percy counts nine of the forty cots currently unused. Will, Kayla, and Austin are rushing from cot to cot, handing out nectar, wrapping bandages, rattling off hymns at light speed. All three of them look exhausted, squeezing shoulders when they pass each other, knocking hips, exchanging tired smiles. This is so clearly something they’re used to.

Annabeth’s head rests on his shoulder.

“It wasn’t always like this,” she whispers. “When it was fully staffed…”

Percy exhales heavily. Yeah. He remembers. There was a lot less complication, once upon a time. The most chaotic the infirmary would get was when Lee would challenge his siblings to Hymn Karaoke — trying to heal with pop songs. There was a lot more laughter, at one point. A lot more people.

Percy sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. It never does well to dwell, but he — gods, he wish they all had more time. To sit with it, to acknowledge…everything. Siblings. Friends. A camp that’s smaller than it’s supposed to be.

Annabeth squeezes his hand again, and he squeezes back, resting his head on top of hers.

“Hey,” she murmurs after a moment, pursing her lips at the front door. “Look.”

Slinking through the entrance like a criminal is Nico, in all his dork ass black camp shirt glory. He looks around shiftily, like he’s trying to make sure no one sees him, and when his gaze lands on Percy and Annabeth his eyes widen. Annabeth smiles at him, but it does nothing to ease the spooked look to his face, back arched like a startled cat. He turns to leave, but before he can slip back out the door —

“Nico!”

The son of Hades whips back around so quickly he brains himself on the doorframe. Percy ducks his head and bites his lip, hard, because he can feel Nico’s glare at the side of his head like the press of hot coal, and if he laughs as badly as he wants to then the infirmary is about to look like a Spirit Halloween.

Will turns back to his patient, squeezing his eyes shut and rattling a hymn off so quickly it makes a burst of light pop from his whole body, and rushes over to where Nico’s standing. He only trips over two things, which is remarkable for him. Percy would be proud if he wasn’t a little embarrassed on his behalf.

“Nico! Hi!”

“He-ey, Will,” Nico says, voice cracking badly on every vowel. Annabeth shoves her face into Percy’s shoulder, body shaking.

“I didn’t know you were coming! I thought you were in the arena all day.”

Nico shrugs, shoes scuffing the floor. “I am. I just — uh, I got hurt? So. Came to see you.”

Will’s beam is so bright it hurts to look at, a little. Percy squints and realises that’s not just the excitement, actually — he really is glowing, faintly. His hands flap slightly at his sides.

“Well, you’re in the right place, then.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them say anything for a minute, rocking back on their heels. Will watches Nico closely, biting his lip. Nico looks resolutely at the floor.

“We weren’t this bad,” Annabeth whispers, “were we?”

Percy shakes his head. “Nah, there’s no way.”

“Gods. It’s so — I don’t know whether to smile or take a dip in the Lethe. It’s embarrassing and endearing at the same time.”

“Painful to watch, but I can’t stop looking,” Percy agrees.

“What’d you hurt?” Will asks, finally. “Did you pull your shoulder again?”

A look of panic flits briefly across Nico’s face until he smooths it to something neutral, aloof.

“Yep. Totally. During — sword fighting, I swung — I did this really big thrust, actually. Just — hugely powerful, training dummy exploded on impact.” He clears his throat. “Some might say too powerful. If you can imagine.”

Percy cradles his head in his hands. “Oh my gods — ”

“Don’t laugh don’t laugh don’t laugh,” Annabeth chants, “oh my gods, don’t laugh —”

A light flush dusts Will’s cheeks. He brushes a strand of hair behind his ear, fiddling with his earrings. “Woah, really? I’ve never heard of that before.”

Nico smirks, standing up a little straighter. “Well, it’s not the first time. I tend to go pretty hard.” Remembering his supposedly hurt shoulder, he exaggerates a wince. “Too hard sometimes, I guess. Could you do the — the energy thing?”

“Oh — gods, yeah, sorry. Hold on.” He stares at Nico’s shoulder, hesitating. “It, um, works better with skin-to-skin contact.”

“I have seen crystal vases less transparent,” Annabeth says, aghast. “In two years he’s going to remember this and try to drown himself.”

“I will be counting down the days,” Percy says gleefully.

On rare, rare occasions, the gods answer his prayers. Clearly, both Nemesis and Aphrodite are looking at him kindly today. Percy makes a note to scrape some of the good stuff off his plate for them both today. Hell, maybe he’ll skip the portioning and toss them an entire roast chicken each. Or something. They deserve it.

Will places both hands — interesting, Percy notes, his wrist was snapped cleanly in two and he only needed one hand, wonder why that was — on Nico’s shoulder and closes his eyes, screwing up his face in concentration.

“Huh. I’m not feeling much damage. You said it was your right shoulder?”

“I heal quick,” Nico says loudly. “I mean, some of the damage might have — um.” He clears his throat. His face glows a faint crimson. He clears his throat again. “Y’know?”

Will’s face is a similar shade.

“Right, right. Yeah. Um, brace yourself.”

Instead of starting to sing, Will closes his eyes, holding completely still. After a moment, the tips of his fingers begin to glow; soft, ambery yellow, flickering like lit candles. He opens his eyes again and focuses intently on Nico’s bare skin, tracing patterns around every defined muscle, leaving a trail of light behind. He lingers, for a moment, when he connects the last string of light, waiting until it has faded entirely from Nico’s skin to remove his hands and shove them in the pockets of his coat.

“That better?” he asks softly.

Nico swallows. “Yeah.”

“Good. I’m glad, Nico. It means a lot that you — came to me. When you needed it.”

“I trust you, I guess.” Nico looks away. “You know what you’re doing.”

“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little,” Percy says thoughtfully.

Annabeth laughs, shoving his shoulder. “Don’t be mean.” She pauses. “Me too.”

With a sigh that can only be described as besotted, Will steps reluctantly away.

“I have patients,” he says, in the same tone of voice Percy usually says I have midterms. “So I gotta…”

“Yeah, no, go. Do your —” Nico gestures vaguely. “Doctor thing.”

“Right. Yeah. I’m gonna — go.” He turns, walking back towards a group of Hephaestus kids who appear to be tightly entangled in some kind of net. After a few steps, though, he pauses, biting his lip, then darts back over to Nico, pressing a lightning-fast kiss to his cheek — “Um, bye. Thank you for visiting. Bye,” — and then runs back over to his siblings, shy smile on his face.

Nico’s jaw is brushing the floor of his father’s palace. He stands, still as a statue, for four entire minutes.

“I think he just died,” Annabeth observes, eyebrows climbing higher and higher up her forehead with every passing second “Damn. Survived so much only to literally die because a cute boy kissed his cheek. A true hero’s end.”

Percy, because he is a kind, concerned friend, clears his throat loudly.

“Yo, di Angelo, you alive?”

Nico startles so violently he falls right over. Percy shoves his fist in his mouth to keep from cackling.

“Shut the fuck up,” Nico hisses venomously, scrambling upright. “Both of you, shut the — not a word —”

Percy and Annabeth make the mistake of looking at each other and simply erupt. Percy can’t feel his stomach. His lungs have abandoned ship. He’s glad as hell he’s in the infirmary because he is heaving for breath, tears streaming down his face, entire body convulsing. Nico stands in front of them literally shaking with rage, entire body redder than one of Apollo’s sacred cows, trying and failing to string together a threat that will ease any and all of his suffering. Annabeth screeches, almost falling off the bed as she cackles. Percy cannot even find the strength to catch her, his muscles are so weak.

“I fucking — I hate you! Both of you! You’re dead to me!”

“Your face!” Percy shrieks.

“Percy Jackson, I am going to turn you to fucking dark matter! I despise your very essence! I —” He stomps his foot. “I’m leaving, and I’m going to leave a rotting corpse in your cabin! Screw you!”

“Oh my gods,” Annabeth wheezes, digging her nails into his arm. “Oh my gods, that was —”

Percy wipes a tear from his eye. “I love being alive. I love being alive so much.”

“It really is great.” Composing herself, and biting back the leftover giggles that keep bubbling out, Annabeth looks back towards Will. He stands much straighter, now, smile back to full brightness. His siblings, too, look rejuvenated, snickering to each other and making kissy faces behind Will’s back. “So many beautiful things to witness. I’ve never seen his face go that red.”

Percy sighs. “This is genuinely going to carry me through the semester. I think his soul died a little. And Will just — gods, that kid is bold.”

“Oh says you, Mr. Do I Get A Good Luck Kiss.”

“Hey, I earned that.”

Annabeth grins, punching him in the shoulder. He grabs her wrist and tugs her towards him, chasing the curve of her smile. She laughs into his mouth and it taste like strawberries and freedom, and he presses a kiss to her cheek, to her jaw, and the side of her neck, resting there, breathing against her skin. After a moment her hands come up and slide in his hair, gently untangling the knotted mess.

“He is one thousand percent going to put a zombie in your bed, you know,” she says after a moment.

Percy snorts. “Yeah, I know.” He smiles. “Worth it.”

[damian-lil-babybat]

'Dead Poets Society' gang

Headcanon that these four drop poetry and literature quotes on their conversations unprompted.

Jason 'English-major-I-only-visit-the-manor-for-the-library' Todd-Wayne

Damian 'I-master-liberal-arts-unlike-you-plebs-PHD-holder' al Ghul-Wayne

Cassandra 'I-learn-English-thru-Shakespeare-as-god-intended' Cain-Wayne

Duke 'only-title-holder-of-vigilante-poet-and-will-cuss-you-just-as-poetically' Thomas-(future) Wayne

[choccy-milky]

sometimes you gotta lure your overly-studious ravenclaw gf into spending time with you 🥰 📚 ( from 'Every Teardrop is a Waterfall' by Kat_12739 on ao3, GO READ IT!!! the first story is about seb falling sick and still pushing himself/not admitting he's sick until he ends up in the hospital, the second story is about the birth of seb and clora's daughter and seb's reaction to clora almost dying in childbirth, and the third is about dealing with a fussy newborn lewis😭🥹THEY'RE SO GOOD AND SWEET AND SOMEWHAT SAD (not to mention beautifully written) so go check it out!!💖💖 )

[kazz-brekker]

still fascinated by the fact that when writing fire and blood george rr martin was clearly trying to make jaehaerys a decent man beset by interpersonal problems involving his children and instead ended up creating a man that most people who know about the historical targs hate more than maegor the cruel

[feelo-fick]

it can't be too hard right?

it's easy not to think about things, he tells me i don't think all the time! wait...

—

a scene from a fic that i have no clue if ill finish, let alone post, but look i made fanart of my own thing that doesnt even exist :D

[deklo]

my interpretation of adoptive bee :’)

pls don’t repost!

[stealingyourbones]

Never will I stop with the steadfast notion that folks in the DPXDC fandom should interact with at least some form of canon DC media.

There are comics, tv shows, radio dramas both old and new, podcasts, movies, magazines, so much shit that intentionally avoiding the media is simply preventing yourself from spawning new ideas and gaining a new appreciation for a fandom that you’re already in.

The Superman Radio Show has episodes 11 minutes long. A lot of the TV shows don’t have episodes that surpass 30 minutes and most are nearly fully clipped on the official DC YouTube channel. The amount of fan made motion comics is astounding. The amount of fanmade animations is equally as incredible.

[apassingbird]

Buck sighs into the barely there space between them, a small content thing, and burrows himself deeper into the soft fabric of Tommy's bed. It's one of those rare days where they're both off work at the same time. No on-calls or long shifts waiting around the corner. The next twenty-four hours are theirs for the taking, free to do whatever they want with. Buck, at least, plans to stay in this bed for as long as he possibly can. He's all tangled up with Tommy, from head to toe, to the point where he barely knows where he ends and Tommy begins. Everything around him feels soft and warm and safe.

"I missed you, y'know."

It's more a whisper than anything else, but Buck knows Tommy's heard him by the way his fingers pauses momentarily on his back, before continuing to draw lazy patterns up and down his spine.

"I missed you, too." Tommy replies, voice still laced with sleep, deep and raspy. "I missed you a lot, even though we did just see each other two days ago."

"Two long days." Buck points out, his pout turning into a smile when he hears Tommy laugh. "Two excruciatingly long days."

"Yeah, they were long, weren't they." Tommy agrees, flattening his hand against Buck's back and letting it rest there between his shoulder blades. His voice is softer, sadder almost, when he continues, "they always seem longer when you're not here."

Buck's heart aches at that because he knows. He knows, and he feels it, too. He doesn't say anything, though, chooses instead to press a gentle kiss onto Tommy's shoulder, hopes it conveys everything he can't quite put into words. Another sigh escapes him when he feels Tommy dip down to press a kiss of his own to the top of his head. They stay like that for a while, content in simply existing in the same room, breathing the same air. It's a luxury none of them take for granted.

"You know," Buck says eventually, an idea he's been toying with for a while now, making itself known again and spilling out of his mouth within seconds. "I-I could always move in. Here, I mean, with you."

"Evan."

"I could, though." Buck says again, rearranging himself so that he's resting on his elbow, looking down at Tommy. "I'm already here more than I'm at the loft, a-and most of my clothes are here, anyway."

Tommy just... looks at him, like he can't quite believe this is real. Blinks, then swallows, then blinks again. Buck distantly wonders if maybe he's rushing things, if this is going too fast, but then Tommy's face lights up; eyes crinkling and nose scrunching from how wide he's smiling. He looks... adorable, yes, but also so incredibly beautiful. Buck loves him.

"So," Buck says, a little bit more confident now, biting down on his own smile. "Is that a yes?"

Tommy's smile softens at that, eyes warm as his hand moves from Buck's back up towards his neck, the other one coming up to cradle Buck's jaw. Then, he pulls Buck down towards him, leaning up to meet him halfway. Buck absolutely melts against him, reveling in the way Tommy guides him into one kiss after another, before breaking apart and pressing their foreheads together.

"Of course," Tommy breathes, pulling Buck impossibly closer, pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth. Buck moves his hand until it rest on Tommy's chest, feels his heart under the palm of his hand, beating steadily as he continues, "Of course it's a yes."

[elodee]

*head in hands*