#ill probably give it away tbh

[mymp3]

trailer talk

[bitchfitch]

my goal for tomorrow is to draw something

cursed.

I do not have a visual imagination but the rumblings of what is to come is already starting to unerve me.

[couldreallyeatawholecakerightnow]

Honestly so consumed by thoughts rn

[rinhaler]

NOTSCAREDNOTSCAREDNOTSCARED!

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ frat boy!oliver aiku x f!reader

Genre: college!au (mostly shameless smut tbh) Notes: first fic on my new blog and it's absolutely disgusting, enjoy. Warnings: 18+, noncon, somnophilia, drugging, virgin killer!oliver, implied virgin reader, tit sucking, pussy eating, biting, fingering, marking, love bites ♡, creampie, spit, alcohol consumption, lmk if I missed any!! Words: 5.3k

What a naïve little thing you are.

That’s the first thing Oliver thinks when he sets his sights on you. A shy, sweet girl wearing the one and only cocktail dress you probably own. It’s so simple but makes a loud statement. You don’t look like the other girls here. You aren’t wearing designer clothes that fit you like a glove, no. The ill-fitting garment you’ve chosen to wear speaks volumes to your innocent nature and your lack of confidence. You don’t have friends, do you? You’re here, alone, in the sleaziest and most prolific fraternity on campus. Of course, it’s a party, and anyone is welcome to attend. But the fact that you decided to come here, alone, makes him think you might be a little stupid.

But that suits him just fine.

He doesn’t approach immediately, for fear of giving the game away too soon. He bides his time and observes your behaviours and mannerisms as you wade through the crowds. His eyes have followed your longing gaze a few times and noticed how you keep looking towards the kitchen. It’s the busiest room in the house right now, he assumes. That’s where the keg and all of the alcohol is.

But almost as soon as you look that way, you avert your eyes and look elsewhere in search of a place to belong. You’ve tried starting a few conversations with the girls, but Oliver knows how catty and mean they can be. Poor thing, fresh meat like you doesn’t stand a chance.

You’re lonely, aren’t you? You’ll feel better with a little company, yeah?

He carefully walks by you in a way that will cause you to spill the drink from your grasp. And with that, this sinful game can begin. The one in which he tells you how sorry he is for causing an accident and ruining your dress. He’s so apologetic that you just can’t help but forgive him right away. And his attractiveness doesn’t go amiss. The kindest person you’ve met thus far just so happens to be so deliciously handsome.

“Let me get you a refill, it’s only fair.” he winks. And you hate yourself because your stomach flits at the casual gesture. It’s probably a line that he uses on all of the girls he meets at parties like this. It’s plain to see that he’s confident. You’re sure there won’t be a shortage of girls throwing themselves at him after a gesture like that.

But you aren’t stupid enough to be the same.

He seems older, by at least two years. He seems comfortable enough here to get you a drink so maybe this is his party. He could have a girlfriend for all you know that is in another room and completely oblivious. You don’t want to make waves before you even experience your first day of class.

People seem friendlier towards you when they notice you with him. Is it genuine? Or could they be laughing at you? His hand resides in the small of your back as he guides you far into the kitchen; until you’re standing between an island counter and the fridge. Your body is warming, and, fuck, he can feel it. You’re so shy. He hasn’t seen a girl like you in a long time. The slightest bit of attention and touching and you’re putty in his hand. What a good girl you are, he’s going to have so much fun with you.

You watch him, carefully, as he rummages through the fridge and grabs a can of beer.

You’re a little deflated as he cracks it for himself and begins to chug.

“I didn’t catch your name.” he states as his unmistakable eyes watch you intently. He has eyes you’ve never seen before, and you’ll have a hard time forgetting. Mismatched purple and green. They’re dull, but not uninteresting by any means. They’re the eyes of a man who always gets what he wants. Those eyes beautiful eyes… they’re bored because they are a prestigious, all access key to gain whatever his heart desires. You hum, hesitating for a moment until you decide you’re too awkward and uncomfortable to hide your name from him. “Oh, that’s a real pretty name. I’m Oliver.” he introduces himself.

“Hey… Oliver.” you smile, unsure of how to respond. You’re so on edge. His peculiar eyes are examining each and every movement you make like you’re being graded. And your heart is pounding… you can’t help yourself. Nobody here has extended so much as a pitying smile. You want to pass his test, he’s the only person being remotely nice to you. But still, there’s a gnawing feeling eating away and corroding your insides and it makes you feel like a criminal, like you’re doing something wrong.

Like you absolutely should not be talking to him right now.

“You’re pretty too.” he smiles, brazenly. His voice is so deep and charming, a sonorous lull as he knows all he needs to do is utter these three simple words to get a girl like you to be completely and utterly captivated. It’s such a pathetic, insipid sentence and you can’t stand that it’s working on you.

You get a full view of his wide, toothy grin and you sense that he’s trying to extend a gesture of trust to you. And you’re encapsulated by it. Pristine pearls almost blinding you and short circuiting your brain as you arrive at the realisation that he might be perfect. His features nothing short of perfection and accentuate his beguiling persona that you can’t get enough of. You haven’t even noticed the way your chest is heaving as you devour a mind-altering cocktail with him as the main ingredient.

And he can’t help but chuckle when he notices how flustered you’ve become from his words, you adorable thing. Three little words are making you squeeze your thighs together and fold your arms over your chest. And don’t think he hasn’t noticed the quickened breaths you’re taking and the dampening forehead you’re suddenly trying to wipe away. He’s noticing everything about you and making mental notes in his mind he will use later.

Do you know how vulnerable you’re being?

You should know better than to be so visibly rattled by him. He may be handsome but he’s hardly screaming upstanding citizen at you. It’s the facial hair. It’s so grotesque and sleazy and wholly unpleasant. And still, the only thought swirling around your tiny, tipsy mind is how it would feel against your skin as you kiss. How would the scruff feel between your inner thighs as he devoured your petalled flesh. You shouldn’t be thinking like this, you aren’t sure what’s wrong with you.

You don’t know how to act, do you?

“Don’t be so nervous, sweetheart.” he tells you, getting closer. The smell of his cologne invading your senses. It’s familiar, it smells expensive and suits him just fine. The type of fragrance you’d save for a special occasion to make an impact and impress people you’re around. Your nostrils flare as you inhale more. More of it. More of him. You need more.

He angles his head as he monitors your response to his proximity. He grins when he notes that you aren’t sure where to put your hands. Moving them a few times before you decide to grip the overhang of the counter behind you until the skin covering your knuckles are taut, turning white. You want to feel his chest, don’t you? It’s so broad and muscular and peaking under his shirt, he doesn’t blame you. You probably haven’t had much experience with a guy like him.

He's more than happy to show you.

You’re starting to think your heart is packing up its belongings and preparing to flee from your own chest as you feel it beating rapidly against your ribs. He’s so intoxicating, you feel lightheaded and overwhelmed by the mere presence of him. His body is trapping yours against the counter. He’s so damn tall, taller than you could have possibly imagined now that he’s pressed against you like this. Your cheeks fill with heat, and you think you might actually faint against him if he doesn’t move away. “There are bad guys at places like this, y’know? Dangerous place to be so pretty.” he warns you, whispering gently in your ear. The tone rushing through your veins and forcing you to shiver. His eyes meet yours after he speaks, his stare willing you to understand what he’s saying.

“T-Thank you…” you mumble.

“Hey, don’t worry so much. I’m the house president, I’ll keep an eye on you.” he assures you, moving away ever so slightly while keeping a lingering hand on your shoulder. A commanding touch to make your body and your mind focus on him. His hand is cold to the touch and you realise it’s from holding the metal can, cold from the refrigerator. The cooling caress of his fingers is polar opposite to the warm smile he’s offering you. You aren’t sure what to do or say, but you need not worry about yourself anymore. He had intended on doing all of your thinking for you tonight, anyway. “Oh, shit, you wanted a drink, right? Let me get one for you.” he speaks, his body moving to act before you can even answer.

“U-Um…” you hesitate, seeing him grab a bottle of rum and a mixer. You hate spirits because they always get you embarrassingly wasted. There are four prominent occasions in the forefront of your mind as you reminisce on the states you’ve found yourself in after drinking spirits. The smell alone is enough to make you gag, but you do all you can to ignore it. You don’t want to make a fool of yourself, you don’t want to do something humiliating that will be talked about for years to come.

You aren’t a prude; you aren’t opposed to getting drunk. You just don’t think it’s a good way to introduce yourself.

He’s moving so fast, and his back is to you as he pours your drink, the red solo cup obscured from your vision as he fills it to the brim for you.

You dumb little thing.

Isn’t this something you’ve been warned about? Not letting your drinks out of your sight at any point, ever. Of course you have, it’s rule number one of going to parties or nightclubs or anywhere that your drink can be tampered with.

You just aren’t thinking straight.

And why would you?

You’re so out of place in this big, intimidating environment. You’re hardly going to suspect the first person to show you a bit of kindness is actually the shadiest guy at the party. But deep down, you know you should consider everyone a suspect after hearing what he had to say. If the guys here are so shady, why does he stick with them? If he’s the president, why doesn’t he tell them to do better?

These few fleeting thoughts have been nothing but. Passing ideas that you thought of and discarded as quickly as they arrived. You can’t live your life in fear or you’ll never make any friends here. And he’s going to all of this trouble for you. You’re nobody to him, and he’s still finding it in his heart to extend a benevolent demeanour to you and making sure you have a drink and a friendly face to keep you company for the night.

So you aren’t going to think twice that he’s slipped something in your drink, you can’t see what he’s doing, but for some reason, you trust him. Would you trust him, still, if he wasn’t so good looking? Would you trust him less if he hadn’t announced he is the fraternity president? He knows you’d never have trusted receiving a drink from him if he just offered it to you out of nowhere.

He’s happy he didn’t have to work too hard, you aren’t completely stupid, but you’re still dumb enough to accept a drink from him like this. You barely even think about it as he flashes you a beaming smile and hands it to you. Hell, it might even loosen you up. You knock half of it back in three seconds and you giggle after the fact.

He’s laughing too.

But it’s at your expense, you poor, sweet thing. You’re going to be seeing so many stars tonight, a sight reserved for Oliver’s favourite angels.

“You’re crazy, huh? You like to party a lot, baby?” he wonders, taking another swig of his drink as he rests against the fridge beside him.

“No, never! This is my first big party.” you confess, and he doesn’t miss the way you slightly cringe at yourself for saying something you must think is a little embarrassing. “I mean, I’ve been to parties… this one is just—”

“You’ll get used to it.” he tells you. “The first one is always memorable, though.”

“Really? How come?” you ask, curiously.

God you’re so cute, it’s killing him. Even he can’t hide the smirk forming on his face as he tries to conceal it with his beer. He decides to not answer. Instead, he admires the way you look disappointed at the prospect of him losing interest in you. He thinks he could bathe in the watery sheen glossing over your eyes as you worry that you’ve said something so stupid that he doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.

He's such a disgustingly vile man. All he can think to do is refuse to put you out of your misery. Instead, he revels in the way you knock back the rest of your drink. The way your eyes widen paints a perfect picture in telling him it was too strong for you. Stronger than anything you’ve ever drank in your life. And that’s without the added ingredient he decided to slip in.

“I— do you have a girlfriend?” your question is abrupt as you wipe the excess liquid from your plump lips. Your watery eyes watching him keenly as you do your best to decipher his intentions.

“No.”

You scoff and shake your head. “I don’t even know why I asked you that, as if you’d tell the truth.” you mumble to yourself, but it’s loud enough for him to hear. And just as you’re about to walk away, he responds.

“I don’t care if you know whether I have a girlfriend or not. I would only care if I was trying to fuck you.” the sentence rolls off his tongue with ease. Like he knew exactly what you were going to say before you even thought of it. And you feel a wave of humiliation crash throughout your body; you feel a current trying to drag you under and suffocate you under the foaming sea.

“Y-You aren’t?” you need to stop talking. You need to stop embarrassing yourself like this. For his benefit. For the other people in the kitchen with you. It feels like everyone is staring at you and laughing at your expense. Maybe you’re just drunk and being paranoid. You should go, you should sprint out of here with whatever small scraps of dignity you have left.

He shakes his head, his hand reaching out to yours to pull you closer to him. It trails, up your side and to your chin as your eyes fixate on his. His thumb smooths over your chin, encouraging you to open your mouth for him. He tilts his can of beer onto your lower lip. The golden, yeasty liquid spills from the metal container and onto your tongue. Your eyes don’t leave his as all you can do is stand there and take it. Your little throat expanding with each glug of the disgustingly bitter drink.

Your body is once again pressed against the counter. He snickers when he feels your body jolt against his as you hear the sound of the beer can he was holding clattering against the tiled floor. And he takes great delight in the way your body melts against his touch as he places a hand on your hip. The other, smoothing the shell of your ear before he levels his mouth with it.

“I don’t need to try, I’m going to fuck you.” he whispers, he kisses against your ear a few times and the sound rushes straight to your clit. You squeeze your thighs together again hoping to alleviate the brewing tension. You pray you were discreet enough for him to not notice.

You weren’t.

And it’s worse as he kisses your neck so openly in front of everyone. He sucks and sucks and sucks until his name is signed in blue and purple blooms against your skin. You bite your lip, internally cursing him for forcing you to have to wear a scarf for the coming weeks until it fades away.

“S-Stop it.” your legs buckle and there is something wrong with your eyes. The room won’t stop spinning. You didn’t drink that much, did you?

“Woah!” Oliver exclaims as you fall into his hold. “You don’t know how to handle your drink, hm? I think you need to sleep it off.”

“T-Tax—”

“No, no. I’d be a terrible host if I made you get a taxi all by yourself. C’mon.” he lifts you with ease, your entire body limp in his arms. And he just can’t believe how lucky he is. How blessed he is to be born so genetically gifted. Because he knows there is no way in hell he’d be getting away with this if he wasn’t attractive. Girls looking at him like he’s some kind of hero coming to your rescue. Him, a hero. It would almost be hilarious if it wasn’t so fucking tragic.

There’s no way you’re forgetting your first frat party.

He’ll make sure of that.

As he passes a few of his brothers on the stairs, they all share a knowing look. Like this isn’t the first time Oliver has been in this predicament. And it surely won’t be the last. He winks at them as he walks by, and he puts you down as he reaches his door, your body dropping like a stone as he lets you fall with no care.

You can do nothing but groan as he drags you by your underarms and into his room. God you want to go home. Not to your student accommodation. Home. You want to be with your parents and under your own roof, sleeping in your own bed. It’s hard to even tell where you are. Are you still in the kitchen? No, there’s no way.

All you can think about is how tired you are.

Suddenly, you’re in the air, being flung onto a nearby bed. You feel like your body doesn’t belong to you. You’re no longer in control and you can’t move your limbs how you want to. You want to use your legs and walk right on out of here and into a taxi.

But you’re lucky, really.

Your body doesn’t belong to you anymore. It’s all his. His to do whatever he wants with. You can’t move, and yet Oliver is going to be kind enough to move you however he likes. Maybe you don’t feel so lucky about it. But you’re just confused right now. Oliver knows you wanted this. Wanted him. The pill in your drink was just a little insurance policy to make sure everyone got what they want.

He prefers girls like this anyway.

Nice ‘n pliant.

“Said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” he smiles, lecherous hands feeling each and every inch of your body. A curious hand reaching up to touch the fat flesh of one of your tits as he massages it over your tiny little dress. “Think you can wear something like this and expect me not to fuck you?” he whispers.

“Mmmpf…” you hum, there’s still a little defiance in you. At this point, he wouldn’t mind if you were on the cusp of sleep. There’s something so special to him about extracting salacious moans from unconscious bodies.

“’m just getting you out of this little thing… gonna find a comfy t-shirt for you to wear to sleep.” he assures you. He wonders if you believe him. He almost believes himself. But as he pulls down the strapless bust of your dress and your supple flesh is revealed to him, the thought of covering it again dies an instant death in his mind. “Fuuuuuck, gorgeous fuckin’ tits.” he moans, his bulge straining against his jeans as envisions himself sucking them until they’re puckered and raw.

He climbs over you, your tiny frame beneath his domineering one. He’s sure you hadn’t neglected to notice how muscular he is before you passed out, even beneath his clothes. He must be some kind of athlete. He’s too beefy not to be. And boy, does he use his weight and size to his advantage when he’s dealing with delicate things like you.

His head practically falls from his shoulder as he decides to let his fantasy come to life. He licks and laves over your tits individually until he gets a little rougher. Softly nibbling the tender buds until they are aching and so sore. His teeth bruise your flesh as he marks them. An assortment of canines and molars as well as decorative love bites.

Any chance you had of forgetting this party are gone.

You’ll know what happened to you.

You might even remember who did it.

But there’s no way a sweet, timid freshman like you is going to have the courage to tell such an unbelievable tale. You might think there are steps in place to protect innocent things like you. You’re a victim, after all. You need protecting. But once again, that would just be so telling as to how naïve you truly are. Drugging pretty girls at college parties is never going to end. The staff, the students, even the police are never going to side with you.

And why would they? These false statements issued by the board, talks of ‘standing with victims’ and offering a listening ear are nothing but lip service. The institution you have found yourself in will say anything to seem like a worthwhile choice. The right and most beneficial choice to you and your future.

But the harrowing truth is that they don’t have time to protect girls like you when they are too busy covering up the messes of men like him.

He pushes your dress up to your midsection, exposing a pair of white lace panties.

“Awe, for me? You knew you were gonna get lucky tonight, didn’t you?” he asks. But of course, you’re unresponsive. His finger prods at the thin material, an involuntary laugh leaving his lungs as he is greeted with the feeling of your soaked underwear on the pad of his digit. “Too dumb t’speak right now… good job your cunt is telling me how much you want me.”

His thumb circles your clit over the material. And even he’s a little dumbfounded at the way your body betrays you. You squirm and your brows furrow as you try to stave off the pleasurable feeling. But for all he knows, you could be trying to fight him off.

He doesn’t care, though, your pussy already gave your true feelings away.

Even he can’t ignore the way his cock is leaking at the sight of your tight heat becoming exposed as he peels away your panties. A slick string connecting your sex to the material.

You must be a virgin, he thinks. Virgins get wet so easily. He suspected it from the moment he saw you. You’re so awkward and uncomfortable around people, but especially guys. You fumble over your words, and you can’t flirt to save your fucking life. But he didn’t care. The thought of your first time being with him was enough to make him want you. And even if you have fucked before. It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t need to know. The very thought is enough.

He pins your knees to your chest, and he begins to feast on your dripping cunt. You shudder as your body feels the tension building with each suckle and slurp against your clit. It’s unrelenting, he can’t get enough of you. He’s fucking addicted to the taste of your slick and he doesn’t know how he’s gone so long without it. Your left leg ragdolls as he lets go, opting to slip a finger into your unprepared hole without stopping his assault on your swollen clit.

And without hesitation, he’s adding another. He takes his time scissoring you open, and by now he’s convinced you’re a virgin. You’re so fucking tight. There’s no way you’ve had a dick inside of you. Or if you have, it must have been small.

You won’t have to worry about that with him.

Even unconscious, he’s sure you’ll feel how he’s gonna stretch you.

Your lazy groans are like a cheer to him. Your body is telling him what a great job he’s doing. How close you are. How badly you want to cum in his mouth and douse his thick, calloused fingers in your syrupy sheen.

The tip of his tongue lashes over the throbbing button at the apex of your thighs. He doesn’t particularly care if you take him well or not. You’re going to take him regardless. But he isn’t so heartless he won’t try and make it a little less painful for you. He’s urging you to cum for him, his free hand pressing down on your abdomen in a bid to enhance your pleasure. With each whip of his tongue against your clit and every press of your spongy insides with his fingers, he’s trying to drag you over the edge.

Your lifeless body surprises him once more.

He pulls away and observes the way your pussy pulses and your walls tighten around his fingers as you begin to cum for him. Your spent little cunt drooling around his thick digits and coating them in your slick. You even moaned for him. Not loudly, of course. A few tell-tale grunts to let him know you were happy with his work.

His eyes ogle your tits once again, admiring the way your chest rises and falls as he sucks his fingers clean. You’re so fucking cute. You must be heaven sent, the way you stepped into the frat may as well have been a gift with a garish bow from Santa Claus himself.

He unbuckles his belt with one hand whilst squeezing and pinching your nipples once again. They’re so pretty, the prettiest pair of tits he’s ever seen. He’s rock hard in his jeans, leaking like crazy and desperate to be buried to the hilt in your sweet little snatch.

And his heavy cock springs free, the tip leaving evidence of just how desperate he is on his v-neck shirt. Pearly pre shimmering against the black material that is soon to dry and harden and meld with the cotton fibres. But he can’t find it in himself to care. He pulls it over his head and throws it into the corner of his room, he’ll deal with it another time. There’s something much more entertaining lying atop his sheets right now.

“Mmm… think this is gonna hurt sweetheart. But you’re gonna be good ‘n take it f’me, yeah?” he lines himself up with your entrance and gives your still body one final look before breaching your insides with his thick cockhead. “Fuckin’ hell you’re tight. You’re so fucking tight, might cum just from this.” he speaks.

He knows you can’t understand him, but he can’t stop himself from communicating with you anyway. He needs you to know how special you are. That out of all of the girls at the party, he chose you. Don’t you feel special? He’s sure you will when you’re stuffed full of his cum. It’ll all dawn on you tomorrow and you’ll feel so honoured that the one and only Oliver Aiku fucked you open and covered you in so many pretty patterns and was even kind enough to pump you full of his cum.

You have no idea how much restraint he’s showing by not instantly splitting you open on his thick, heavy cock. He can’t help but feel that slowly plunging into your virgin walls is a better display of claiming your body. It’s almost torture for him, easing in inch at a time at an agonising pace.

And when he’s fully sheathed inside your suffocating walls, the pleasure is almost too much, he could shed a tear at the feeling. But, of course, he won’t. He’s prioritising the task at hand.

He holds under your knee and pushes it further into your chest and begins to slowly roll his hips. It’s hypnotising, the way even out of consciousness your eyes can still roll back into your skull. He takes note of how he’s moving when your eyelids begin to flutter.

“Oh baby… right there? Like it when I fuck you there?” he wonders, experimenting with his movement and speeding up ever so slightly. His cockhead is nudging your g-spot so perfectly. It’s so deliciously soft, and those saccharine expressions you’re donning are about to drag him to an early demise.

His grip on your thigh is harsh. Another galaxy of purple bruises forming under his fingers on your doughy skin. He hasn’t noticed. It’s second nature to him to be a little rougher than intended. But it’s part of the fun, right? More little discoveries for you to find in days to come.

He’s entranced by the way his cock vanishes inside of your cute cunt. He’s being swallowed whole by your sticky lips. The sound reverberates throughout the room. The suctioning sounds of you pulling him inside and the tackiness of your pussy and his cock meeting again and again and again.

Your eyes squint as he yanks down your jaw until he sees your tongue. He’s so abhorrent and even at this point he knows this to be the truth himself. He just can’t fucking help it. He wants to do anything and everything to you. He wants to humiliate you because you’re just that special to him. With a cartoonish ‘ptuh’ sound, a glob of spit has landed on your tongue and is slowly sliding down your throat.

With a few more presses of his tip against your sweet spot, you’re spasming around him again. Maybe you liked it after all. You wouldn’t cum if you didn’t. Do you like being taken advantage of by reprehensible scum like Oliver Aiku? Do you like being unconscious while getting your insides pummelled? This might warp your tiny little mind. Maybe you’ll think this is love and this is what you’re meant for. It is, as far as Oliver is concerned. He doesn’t let up humping into your tiny hole. He spits in your mouth again, and it’s the final straw to pull him into his oncoming bliss right along with you.

“Little slut,” he pants, his hips faltering as he feels himself reaching the precipice. “Mine. My little slut. My fuckin’ cunt. H-Hear me? Mine.” he practically growls as he shoots load after load into your unprotected womb. “Ah— fuck. Fuuuuuck—” he finishes, fucking his viscous seed back into you.

He pulls out immediately after, admiring the way his sperm drips and squelches out of your spent cunt. You’re clenching around nothing, poor thing. You must miss him.

But you don’t have to worry. You won’t have to miss him for long. You’re not done, after all. He just needs some time to recharge. He wasn’t just going to fuck you once and be done with you. Not a perfect little pussy like that, no. Those drugs will be in your system for a few hours.

He’s far from done with you yet.

© 2023 rinitxshi

[helpallthenamesaretakenblog]

rating every 'you drool when you sleep'

BOOK:

the standard literally

Reading it later on you realise that annabeth isn't some cool nonchalant girlboss like how percy saw her, she was internally prolly just like

"ok how to boy?? How to communicate to pretty boy (OMG HE HAS PRETTY EYES) that I'm an intimidating queen who should not be messed around with?? ooh yes I'll tell him that he drools ah yes I'm so slay”

And she just skipped away with "her blonde hair bouncing behind her"

and percy fell for it he was like 😯 woah she’s playing hard to get wow i should watch my drooling from now on shes so cool

and ykw she's the legend the icon and the moment we love and stan her

peak twelve year old

also kickstarted one of the best ships

Infinity/10

MOVIE

Deleted scene smh

Its so weird coming out of an adult woman's mouth, not alexandra’s fault its the writers fault (probably why it was deleted), but her line delivery makes it sound like she’s reminding percy of an office meeting later on in the day

logan’s wtf face was funny tho ill give it that

3.5/10

MUSICAL

“IVE NEVER SEEN A FACE AS BEAUTIFUL AS—“ “you drool when you sleep”

I know kristen was way too old to play annabeth just as alexandra but her voice is so high pitched she plays it off well

Peak comedy

just percy singing a ballad about this pretty angel who he feels a very good weird way about while annabeth is there like 🤨 you drool when you sleep lol

and the fact that annabeth had a reprise of that saying that percy was cute in a good weird way and i-🥺 (ik its the deluxe version that wasnt in the main musical, but its official, so its musical canon shush)

10/10 (i changed my mind)

TV SHOW

OK BUT ANNABETH BEING A SLEEP PARALYSIS DEMON IS SO FUNNY

*hovering over percy as he slips in and out of consciousness in a dark room* you drool when you sleep😒

But tbh if i was a show only watcher i would be like “what is the point of this?”

But it really supports that aspect of annabeth’s character in the show that does not know any social skills so its kind of even more cuter???i guess??

9/10

[partycatty]

Do you write for other characters like bi han or tomas?

i do! i'm just mentally ill over johnny LOL

lin kuei trio > caught

the boys can't keep their eyes off of you! what're you gonna do about it?!

warnings: idk nothing much tbh, i guess a little nsfw at the end of smoke's part but nothing crazy, controversial bi-han take? kuai favoritism <3 & google translate

notes: pretend that bi-han's betrayal doesn't happen for his part. i rewrote this twice bc i kept accidentally clicking on notifs and forgetting to save. third time's the charm :3 also pls admire that i specifically made gifs of each man making eye contact w you teehee

masterlist <3

♡

bi-han >

•let me preface this by saying i heavily disagree with the headcanons of most of his fics. this man is ASS at verbalizing affection, and probably wants a trad wife to serve him. he won't call you "princess" or "doll," and PDA is not his strong suit. he'll love you of course, he just wouldn't show it with flowers and cuddles.

•that being said, all he could do was eye you down as you opened the front door, coming face to face with him, his brother kuai liang, and the fire god liu kang. your jaw opened and closed rapidly, trying to make sense of the two ninjas and man with glowing eyes.

•"uhh, there's no hunky ninja-themed bachelorette party here tonight," you say, raising an eyebrow. "try two houses down. lord knows they're a couple of freaks—" before you could close the door on them, bi-han reaches forward and sticks his foot in the door. liu kang, the primary voice of reason and supposed leader of the situation, asks to enter your home. you don't feel like you're in a position to decline.

•kuai liang wanders your living room, tracing his finger across your shelves and leaning in to inspect your paintings. liu kang stands in front of you, giving you the whole "earthrealm, fire god, tournament, chosen one" spiel, we all know how it goes. but you're struggling to focus, struggling pretty hard actually, because bi-han is literally standing like a statue at your kitchen island a few feet away, his icy glare seemingly stabbing through your skull. perhaps he's just intimidating you into an agreement. it works.

•you really hope that bi-han's staring ends there, but you are a damn fool.

•you train alongside the other recruited earthrealmers, taking a short break when you see a now-familiar trio stroll through the training grounds. yellow, grey... and blue. and even though their destination seems well past your location, bi-han literally could not tear his eyes away from you as you sat under the tree as you try to relieve yourself of the ruthless heat of the sun. he drinks in your damp form, and the way your hair sticks sweetly to your forehead. that is, until kuai liang gives him an obvious playful jab to his side, making bi-han snap forward and continue to lead his brothers, not before shooting him a nasty look. icy frost is noticeable on his fists as he clenches them.

•are you losing your mind? why the hell is the grandmaster of the lin kuei eating you alive with his eyes alone? you try to confide in your earthrealm partners, but raiden shrugs, kenshi's at a loss for words, and kung lao and johnny just laugh boisterously at your oblivious nature.

•finally, you're accompanying the lin kuei trio as they wait for instruction from liu kang regarding the soul stealing beacons. smoke and scorpion sit on the bench while sub-zero paces endlessly. each time he faces your way, he locks eyes with you. what is this guy's deal? it literally looks like he wants to skin you alive.

•kung lao and raiden permit them to enter liu kang's meeting room, and bi-han immediately struts off with a noticeable tinge of pink on his face. as the other two follow, you stop and grab kuai liang's shoulder gently, making him face you with surprised eyes.

•"pardon my hindrance, scorpion," you say with a quick bow. "but your grandmaster has been eyeing me down since as long as i've known him. is... is there something i did? something he is displeased with? i find it quite unnerving."

•kuai liang's face freezes, and then very clearly fights a shit-eating smirk. it's not typical for him to be as amused as he is now, but how could he resist when he could literally see what was going on? he chuckles for a moment.

•"bi-han thinks you'd make a good wife," kuai liang replies, a smile tugging at his lips. "please forgive his harsh expression. he couldn't shake it if he tried."

•with that, bi-han's younger brother turns on his heel and enters the mission debrief, leaving you beet red and suddenly completely understanding the signs after the fact.

•when the trio returns successful, you stop noticing his eye contact, because you're too embarrassed to even glance in his general direction. doesn't stop him, though.

♡

smoke >

•you were an initiate of the shirai ryu following its formation. disgusted by the betrayal of your former grandmaster, tomas and kuai liang beckoned you to carry on a new oath in a new chapter of the close-knit clan. you had not seen them much prior to this, but they didn't think to question your dedication.

•since reforming the clan and being given a higher position rather than a lowly grunt, your uniform changed. the once all-black, full-body uniform became something you could design. you opted for something a little more... breathable. think mk11 mileena.

•shut up i know ninja uniforms are like that for a reason just bear with me

•you decide to debut said outfit at a meeting over tea, strutting in and taking your seat with grace. tomas nearly chokes on his damn tea, a single puff of smoke shooting from his lips as he coughs. he wishes he had his mask on right about now, so he could conceal his reddening cheeks. you, his brother, and harumi look at him with partially perplexed, partially amused glances before moving on, hoping to save smoke from the embarrassment of being confronted.

•every time you leaned forward to point at the map centered on the table, tomas's eyes were glued to you. this poor man doesn't know what to do with himself when you're just so pretty! taking a gentle sip of your tea as kuai liang asks tomas about the new recruit, that hasashi boy, you glance up past the cup and realize tomas is quite literally giving you heart eyes, completely entranced. you chuckle to yourself. it is quite cute when he looks at you like that, lips parted and eyes gentle.

•"grandmaster," you say calmly, turning toward the pyromancer. "it seems your second-in-command missed your question. would you mind repeating yourself?" as you ask, tomas seemingly snaps out of it and tries to conceal his devious thoughts, putting his palm over his mouth and leaning on his elbow on the table.

•kuai liang groans to himself before repeating the question, one that tomas answers quickly and a little anxiously. he flashes you a sheepish smile. harumi giggles and look at the two of you knowingly.

•a long evening of training kicked your ass, and you decided you deserved a good rest in the nearby hot springs. fully confirming you're alone in the moonlight, you strip of your uniform and dip into the hot water. your tense muscles unravel at the warmth and you let out a pleased moan at the relief. the water reaches just above your breasts and you're about to lean your head back and close your eyes, letting the comfort of the water encapsulate you.

•that is, until you see a faint trail of smoke creep out from behind you and dip into the water around you. you smile knowingly, not even bothering to turn around.

•"tomas," you say, a hint of playful displeasure in your tone. "for a ninja, your stealth skills are starting to fall apart."

•your trained ears hear him freeze completely and let out a little gasp. tomas slips out a curse in his native language. now it's time to toy with your food.

•still in the water, you spin around and prop yourself up against the ledge of the hot springs, looking up at him seductively. tomas breaks from his deer in headlights pose and faces you, looking down and trying so incredibly hard to remain focused on your eyes, but it's just so hard when your breasts are right—

•"i've seen the way you look at me," you confess in a sultry voice. "i'm not a blind fool. it's incessant."

•"i-i didn't think you were," tomas stammers out, crouching down to be more eye level with you. "i meant no offense, you're just so... so—"

•"none taken," you chuckle, tilting your head. "were you going to be a peeping tom, or join me, then?"

♡

kuai liang >

•since being recruited for earthrealm's part in the tournament, kuai liang has paid more visits than probably necessary to run into you during your months of training.

•he'd be all like "omg heeeey what are youuuu doing hereeee" knowing damn well of your schedule (i'm lying i'm just in love with this yummy little s'more).

•though he would get into the habit of taking late night strolls around the wu shi academy to clear his mind. it was happenstance that you enjoyed the same habit.

•this man is huge and hunky, giving you comfort and safety as you navigate the moonlit paths of the land. he finds you to be a sweet conversation partner, carrying yourself with elegance and kindness that perfectly compliments his humble, noble spirit. you speak of a passion to fight for what is right, so focused on speaking and gesturing that you don't even realize kuai liang is staring down at you with utmost admiration. his heart warms (more than usual) at what a catch you are — for the tournament...!

•"tell me, scorpion," you speak up, looking up at him with eyes that could melt. "are you the only of your family to harness the power of fire?"

•"it is a long running ability in my family," kuai liang replies, confidently but with a gentle tone. "the methods in which we harness this power are a well-kept secret."

•"even so, scorpions don't burn," you reply quickly with an amused tone, grinning up at the man. you realize he was already looking down at you with a mirrored smile. "what makes you a scorpion?"

•"my strength and sting," he says as if he were reading a script. then again, he's probably been asked this hundreds of times. his brothers were icy sub-zero and hazy smoke, his name didn't exactly fit the narrative.

•as you part your lips to continue your conversation, a gust of wind makes you shiver and you let out a little gasp, instinctively wrapping your arms around yourself. kuai remains unfazed but takes note of your chilliness.

•"are you alright, xiǎo huǒhuā?" he asks with a hint of uncharacteristic concern. your face warms momentarily at the nickname, only to be reminded of the bitter cold with another gust of wind. it wasn't the first time he said that unfamiliar phrase, but you just never thought to ask about it. reflecting on it now, you're realizing it's a pet name. you rub your arms.

•"just... cold," you reply with a trembling lip. "times like these i wish i had your power." for the first time in a while, kuai liang breaks his gaze from you and looks down at his hands, debating whether or not to speak up. he didn't want to push any boundaries with you, as he genuinely enjoyed your presence. still, he decided he's only got one shot.

•"it's a power i'm willing to share," he replies lowly, sticking his hands out palms-up. you look up at him, hesitant about his offer. another gust of wind, harsher this time, pushes on your back and pulls you toward him. you catch yourself on his hands. they're so warm and inviting. they're not necessarily soft, but they feel comforting and... god, so warm. as you sigh with relief, you look up again and realize that, just like every time beforehand, kuai liang was looking down at you with a soft smile. he was just always warm as a pyromancer, heat creeping through his skin no matter the weather.

•you two had successfully broken the barrier of touch, and you continue to walk down the path. kuai holds both of your hands in one of his, the other wrapped around your shoulder and rubbing up and down your arm to keep you from being too chilly. it's a sweet embrace, one that neither of you want to fully unpack yet, but it's a step nonetheless.

•"why is it that every time i look at you, you're already looking at me?" you ask quietly, enamored by his embrace. kuai tenses up momentarily, feeling a little sheepish at the direct confrontation. he soon relaxes after finding the right words.

•"because you're beautiful, xiǎo huǒhuā," he replies gently, squeezing your arm and hands tenderly.

•"what does that word mean?" you ask, face flushed and entire body no longer concerned over the cold.

•"...little spark."

•and so, you two continue to walk down the path in the moonlight, now in his comforting, toasty embrace.

[drac-kool-aid]

Seward's bone deep desire to run away from the asylum is not exactly surprising. There have been a lot of really good meta posts about how the return of Van Helsing into his life is the turning point where we see the caring and good side of him and how we can interpret his life as a student in Amersterdam as one of freedom and happiness. How he is part of the tragedy of manners, how strict social expectations allow Dracula to persist, and how they only exacerbate the unhappiness of the characters.

And I think the tragedy of Seward is that, really, he should not be the head of an asylum. It's a job that brings him no joy, and he's BAD at it. We can all recognize that if your first reaction to going back to work is "What if I just leave it all." That isn't a healthy work environment.

Now, in the modern day, the ability to pick and choose a work environment, even to leave one that is damaging your mental health, is a privilege. (IT SHOULDNT BE, but it is). And, although it is definitely reaching crisis levels in modern times, major changes in your career have almost always been difficult (unless you are really rich, or a particular brand of academic in the 17th-18th century, or both).

Seward can't just leave and become a surgeon. To give up the lofty position of "Head of an Asylum" would be unthinkable in the 1890s, especially for a reason like "Being here is basically turning me into the Joker." Like, how would Seward explain that in polite society? Would they accept that reasoning? Would they create salacious gossip if they didn't? Can Seward leave his position without losing a great amount of social capital?

Probably not.

His rise to head of an asylum, as many have pointed out, was meteoric, to say the least. It has afforded him status and respect and also left him deeply, deeply fucked up. And he can't leave!

I think his desperate attempts to quantify Renfield's behaviors into a new mental illness are telling in this regard. Maybe he is too used to having to meet some sort of expectation, and now he thinks this is the logical next step (It's NOT, but I digress). The feeling of having to keep performing above expectations, grasping at straws to do so, and subsequently burning oneself out (as well as others around you) and engaging in unethical practices? Idk. It sounds like something that would happen today. (tbh there are probably a ton of Sewards out there today, as there are still systemic problems within the mental health system that allow for the dehumanizing and abuse of patients).

It doesn't excuse his behavior. Nothing he does to Renfield is excusable, but I think it does explain some of the *why*. He isn't just cruel for cruelty's sake.

So, tldr I guess: I think reading Seward as someone who got stuck on a career path that he realized was unfufilling and that he ends up hating. Social conventions restrict him from just quitting without and a (socially acceptable) good reason to do so, and a lifetime of being regarded as one of the smartest people in the room means he can not allow himself to fail. Unfortunately, this also means he can not admit when his actions or his ideas are wrong when it comes to his job.

(But he can show that uncertainty FOR Lucy, and TO Arthur and Van Helsing, which speaks his trust and love for them)

[dangopango00]

ABYSS RAZOR CRUSH HCS BC IF I DONT GET SOME CONTENT I WILL DIE

Abyss Razor x gn reader

Prompt: yall r madly in love he has a crush on youuu (boyfail situationship hcs more like tbh)

A/N: sorry if this is rambly i cant live like this i keep rereading the same 4 or 5 posts over and over again ive been waiting for like a year and im getting teased with the tip PLEASEEE WRITE HIM 😭😭🤞 i cant ever escape the ‘nobodys fave but mine’ curse help

Ily losermen

Ily high ponytail men

Ily abyss razor

more utc

- Im gonna jump he is so kewt. Idek what to say im just ill

- You’d probably often compliment his eyes and you have this image that hes so calm and collected— which he is! But! Not with you! So every conversation with you is him just fighting for his life trying to look cool and not implode at the same time

- ^^^ THIS is one thing. But what really gets him falling for you is when you get a bit closer and have a talk with him, telling him in no uncertain terms that he’ll always have someone to return to if others are cruel because you won’t be leaving him

- Gives you things VERY often, usually little things because hed die if he had to directly give you a gift and then have to explain why, so he shows his affection in little ways like letting you have his best pencils and pens if you need it (lets you keep it too)

- oh he absolutely loses it if he sees you continue to use his pen hes so touched that you’re taking good care of what he gives you it shows that it means a lot to you and that he means a lot to you

- The only actual gift he gives you during this stage are things he has an excuse for like origami (idk why but i feel like he makes cool ass origami) he can just say he made too many so hes giving them away yet you and maybe Abel are the only ones who received some…

- He wants so badly to be useful to you he gets so flustered and happy just hearing you say thanks when he answers your question about the assignment or when he lends you his materials

- Immediately stiffens when you make any sort of contact. Dont stop though, he can count the times hes been hugged on one hand

- Speaking of his touch starvation, he’d let you play with his hair and looks forward to it tbh he’d just rather not initiate anything it’s too much for his heart

- If you have him take down his hair and play with it (like braid it or try different hairstyles) he’d feel so content; ofc he’s nervous but at the same time he just feels so at peace as if it’s only you two in the world and all the people who have ever wronged him never existed in the first place

- He’s a little bit delulu, i fear

- He gets so nervous texting and calling you bc what if you tell him ily. No that could never happen. Wait but what if it did— do you see his dilemma?

- He’s a chronic overthinker and in a way its a bit sweet because he used to worry about you randomly saying you didn’t want to be friends with him but now he wouldn’t even consider that possibility; it just no longer enters his mind

- He’d also find himself drifting off, losing himself in thought and end up daydreaming about if you two were in a relationship

- It’s very innocent, it’s just you two being cute and going places together while holding hands and such until it drifts even further to imagining you two kissing

- His face is on fire and he has to stop thinking NOW but hes in too deep hes imagining kissing ice cream off the side of your mouth and other cliches like that it’s so over

- Abel wondering wth is wrong with his right hand; all he said was that he was going to make mother happy by doing his homework today meanwhile Abyss can no longer be normal

- The kissing is just his guilty pleasure but Abyss constantly imagines holding hands with you like if you walk too close to him his hands will get clammy and his fingertips will get cold because he wants to hold your hand but is scared to initiate it

- God forbid you actually hold his hand even for a second while he’s having his entire internal monologue. He will die. You killed him. How could you?

- He won’t let go though like. Ever . Handholding is his favorite thing 5ever and as soon as he gets a taste he’s hooked

- He likes handholding so much that if you held his hand enough times then one time he’d accidentally grab your hand and initiate for once (immediately gets flustered after but it counts)

- Really really REALLY likes when u trace over his magic lines. Ruins his life everytime and he just melts in your touch; subconsciously leans in and his face softens and EVERYTHING

- Ok i wasn’t gonna say it bc itd probably involve sm sneaking but: Sleepovers. IM JUST SAYING 🤞🤞🤞 I feel like this is where most of the softer moments happen tbh like your roommate being out and you two have a sleepover

- I think this is where the playing with his hair and tracing the lines on his face would happen if not this then when you’re bored in class

- Not a fan of PDA even if ur not dating so he does play with your hair but usually during the sleepovers if you’ll allow him (not quite trying new hairstyles like you do but letting it fall through his fingers, running his hands through it or just rubbing the ends with his fingers to feel how soft it is)

- If you are bald he would slightly hold the back of your head and rub your temples with his thumb to help you relax

- Idk ik i just went on about how hes a loser but I feel like when it comes to affection relating to hair or like anything not affectionate in a cliche sense he doesn’t really pay attention and does it without thinking; only realizes its too affectionate if you point it out (please do not, he feels very comfortable right now. He will stop and never do it again if you point it out)

- You have a lot of deep talks and give him encouraging words during sleepovers tbh it just gives you both time to just… enjoy each other uninterrupted

- Sometimes instinctually distances himself from you because you make his heart do somersaults and his head feels like it’ll explode around you though he doesn’t last long, he needs you with him everyday atp 😭

- Although the above is true, sometimes he gets clingy ish (just by your side all the time) and protective over you even knowing you aren’t his

A/N: a ridonkulous amount of these r based on things ive done erm. Ok. Ig next thing i should write is him with an equally loser gf i def fit the bill LOL

[kimpossibly]

THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART ONE: drummers' curse

PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: mentions of minor injuries (NOTE: some warnings for this story include MAJOR spoilers for this series down the line, so I'll put those beneath the cut. If you don't want to get the story spoiled, then just ignore it ― but I did want to provide the chance for you to get an idea of how the story will go later down the line if you have any sensitive topics you'd like to avoid. please prioritize your mental wellbeing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apologies in advance for making Y/n the drummer and putting Warren on rhythmic guitar. I just loooooooove female drummers. Also can you tell that I love Karen and Camila? Because I love them with alllllll my heart and soul. Another sorry in advance because this one may break your heart a little ― it sure broke mine. NOTES ON THE WORK: I used the timeline from the book, mostly because I couldn't keep track of it in the show haha. I read the book twice before watching what episodes of the show were out, so the lines may blur between the two. For your convenience (and mine, tbh), I'll put the year all the characters were born underneath this note so you can reference it when you need to. I just couldn't keep track honestly. I think in the show they start the band when Graham is fourteen, but in the book he's around 18 when they add Warren on, so it's kind of confusing?? I decided to stick with the book because it was a more physical timeline. Anyways, enough talking, here's your guide! ― YEARS BORN (in order of age) Billy Dunne -> 1947 Camila Dunne -> 1949 Graham Dunne -> 1949 Warren Rhodes -> 1949 Eddie Roundtree -> 1949 Daisy Jones -> 1951 Y/n L/n -> 1951

WARNINGS (SPOILERS INCLUDED): reader has a terminal illness. Discussions about death and loss, depictions of grief, hospitals

It's no secret that the renowned 1970s band Daisy Jones & The Six went through its fair share of ups and downs. Until their inexplicable split on July 12, 1979, they were undeniably one of the biggest bands in the world. While a more detailed account of the band's history will be recounted in a more thorough transcript, this advanced edition will focus specifically on two of the band members: Eddie Roundtree and Y/n L/n. More specifically, it will focus on their individual and combined roles they played in the band's eventual downfall.

THE RISE OF THE SIX (1965 - 1972)

GRAHAM: Y/n grew up next door to us. She was a little younger, two years or so, so we never really gave her a second look. Until the day she wandered into our garage during band practice out of nowhere. She practically ripped the drum sticks out of Chuck's hand and just started...wailing on 'em. I mean, she could make your head spin. Here was this thirteen, fourteen year old girl next door, this kid, and she was the best fuckin' drummer we'd seen. I mean, in the neighborhood. She wasn't Mitch Mitchell, but she was the closest thing we had. And she was too good to be shoved in the back with a tambourine. But we couldn't just take Chuck's spot away and hand it over to the new girl.

CHUCK: I knew right then and there that they wanted to give my spot to the new girl. There was no doubt in my mind. And, you know what? I got it. This chick was good. Way too good. Did I feel threatened by her? Hell yeah, I did. And at the time I probably wanted to tell her to screw off, but now...now I get it.

EDDIE: She was good. Amazing, actually. Graham and I looked at each other and knew that she was something we'd be stupid to pass up on.

BILLY: When Chuck told us he wanted out, we were pissed, of course. We were heading off to open for Winters that week. It felt like things were going to look up, just like I always knew they would, and he was ditching. I know now that that wasn't really what it was ― he'd gotten into college, fan-fucking-tastic. It was a good opportunity for him, a sure thing. But right then it felt like a betrayal.

WARREN: So he ditched, and Billy just turned right to Eddie and said, "Go tell Y/n she's in." And he was just...terrified.

EDDIE: I said, "why me?" You know? It wasn't my band, it was Billy's. And here he was, ordering me to tell some new girl she was in. I was fifteen and could barely ask a waitress for ketchup. At the time, that was probably the last thing I wanted to do.

GRAHAM: He asked why it had to be him, and I told him the truth: he was the least intimidating. Billy, you know him. He had a tendency to get too focused on the task at hand and could get a little...harsh. And Warren? He had one of the biggest personalities you could find. He'd scare her off before we had a chance to offer her the spot...[Pauses] I probably could've done it, in all honesty. I just didn't want to screw it up. Eddie was better with words than I was, and we needed her in our band. Badly.

EDDIE: And I remember thinking, "Here goes fucking nothing."

The doorbell ringing was what got her attention. No one ever used the doorbell. It was always a knock ― that, or someone just walked in. The L/n's front door was hardly ever locked back then. Y/n's mom was a nurse, formerly a school nurse. She didn't want to risk the chance that some kid took a spill and had to limp home on an injured leg. So all the neighborhood knew, if you got hurt playing outside, you could march on over to Miss L/n's place to get yourself fixed up.

Y/n had her own share of walk-ins, too. By the time she was ten, she had seen her mom help out enough kids that she was practically a nurse herself. She could disinfect and bandage and stitch up any old case that walked through her front door. And if someone who was too busted up for first aid? She knew where the keys to the family Winnebago was and how to drive herself and them to the local hospital. She was only fourteen and didn't have a license, but it didn't matter. She was a safer driver than most everyone else on the road.

So when someone rang the doorbell, she assumed that it was someone too injured to knock. She grabbed the car keys and made sure her suture kit was within reach.

When she opened the door, she didn't see the blood and broken bones she was expecting. Instead, Eddie Roundtree stood on her front porch, hands shoved anxiously in his pockets. He looked all right, but that didn't stop her from asking: "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Um. No," Eddie said quickly, taking his hands out of his pockets.

"Okay," she said slowly, eyes narrowing. "Do you want to come in?"

"Yeah, sure."

Y/n turned and walked further into the house, prompting him to close the door and follow her. She led him to the kitchen. "Lemonade? I made it this morning," she offered, already opening the fridge.

EDDIE: That jug of lemonade was bigger than she was. [Laughs] I could barely watch her get it down. I was afraid she'd drop it on her foot. But she just took her time getting it from the fridge to the table. I found out later that her mom bought a pound of lemons a week because Y/n wanted something to offer every kid that came through their front door. [Pauses]. She was just like that.

He gave a nod. Y/n stood on her toes to grab two glasses from the cabinet. She poured one glass, hands shaking from the weight of the jug, and Eddie realized that this awkward silence was probably the best time to transition into his real reason for visiting.

"Chuck left the band."

"Oh," she said simply. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

She paused, looking confused. And Eddie, who's will to live was slowly draining from this conversation alone, raced to finish what he had (awkwardly) started.

"I just mean that...you're in. The band. If you want to be our drummer, you're in."

Y/n paused mid-pour, setting the pitcher down on the counter carefully. She turned around until her back pressed into the kitchen counter, arms crossed over her chest. "And you thought I'd jump at the chance to join?"

"No. No," Eddie said quickly. "We just wanted to offer you the spot if you still wanted it."

"Did I say that I wanted it?"

"No, but―"

"Okay, just making sure," she handed him a glass and hopped up onto the counter, crossing her legs underneath her. "So you need a drummer?"

"Yes. Badly."

She took a sip from her glass and paused, as if weighing her options in her mind. She swallowed. "Are there any other girls in the band yet?"

EDDIE: Yet. Like she knew it was going to happen. It was just a matter of time.

"No, not yet." he replied.

"Then be honest with me: are you guys sleazeballs?"

EDDIE: Sleazeballs. She didn't sugarcoat things. She wanted to know if we were creeps or if we'd let her play drums in peace. I get that, one hundred percent. but back then, it felt like she was trying to accuse us of something.

"No," he said quickly, "Well...Warren can be a little much, but he means well."

She took another slow sip, once again weighing her options in her mind. "When's your next gig?"

"We play pretty much every night, wherever we can find. It might take us a bit to teach you the songs, but―"

"I can learn them," she said confidently. "How soon do you need someone?"

"Soon as possible."

EDDIE: By then, I was terrified she'd say no. All these questions and never once did she seem really interested in joining. I was already trying to figure out which of us would be the least shit at the drums.

"Okay. I'm in."

EDDIE: And that was it. She said yes. I didn't appreciate how much she'd saved our asses right then, but I was relieved. That was for sure.

GRAHAM: Eddie came back, told us she said yes. She couldn't join practice until her mom got home ― she didn't want the house to be empty if some injured kid wandered by ― so we had about an hour and a half to teach her every song.

BILLY: She picked 'em up like [snaps] that. Never doubted it for a single second, either. Once she knew it, she knew it.

EDDIE: She showed up to the first gig in overalls and sneakers. She let Camila put a little makeup on her, too, but we could all tell she hated it.

CAMILA: She was sweet. And, surprisingly, a little shy. I could tell she was a little scared of the boys. That's why she was a little cold to them at first. But she was just the coolest kid. I mean, fourteen years old and joining a rock band? She was a little rockstar, right off the bat. She asked me to put some makeup on her before her first gig with the band. When I gave her a mirror after and asked her what she thought, she said, "I like it, but it makes me feel like a doll. Not a drummer." She liked the glitter the most, though. It became her trademark. She put it on her cheeks, in her hair, everywhere that would catch the light. She'd come off stage and you'd see a little pile of sparkles behind the drum set.

EDDIE: Right off the bat, first gig. It was enough to freak anyone out. She joined the band six hours ago, learned the songs three hours ago, and now she was playing in a club to a couple dozen people. It seems so small now, but back then? It was like starting at Wembley.

Y/n shook out her hands for the eighth time. It wasn't about loosening up for the gig anymore, she just needed something to do that didn't involve throwing a punch or screaming at the top of her lungs. She looked up at Billy, standing at the front of the group, cool and calm as ever, and she had the distinct urge to kick him in the shin. Why did he get to be so calm when she was right behind him, on the verge of throwing up?

She turned to anxiously twisting a single drum stick between her fingers, around and around, faster and faster. Eventually it became so mindless that she barely noticed as the stick slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor. She bent to retrieve it quickly, hoping no one had noticed.

But, of course, someone did.

"Hey," Eddie said, looking back at her.

"Warren knocked it out of my hands." she said quickly.

Eddie glanced over at Warren, who was a solid two feet ahead of her, physically unable to have knocked a drum stick out of her hands. Y/n knew from that glance that he could see right through her lie. Now she really wasn't in the mood to talk.

EDDIE: She was terrified. And she was lying her ass off about it. I didn't want to run the risk that she choked up in the middle of the show and screwed up our set. So I figured I'd just, talk. And if she wanted me to screw off, she'd tell me. She had a way of saying exactly what she wanted.

"You've heard of the Drummer's Curse, right?" he asked.

She frowned in a way that told him no, she did not.

"First, there's the obvious stuff: drummers have to lug around the most shit out of anyone in the band. Drums sets are heavy and expensive, so there's that. But the worst part is that they're easy to overlook, you know? They're at the back of the stage behind all this shit, everyone stands in front of 'em. Drummers can fade into the background real easy. The best drummers can outshine anyone else onstage. You'll do that one day, but if you're freaked out now, just let yourself fade a little. You'll play better than anyone up there and the crowd'll know it, but you can let them focus on someone else if you want. You get what I'm saying?"

EDDIE: For a second, I thought she was going to punch me.

But then she nodded, wiped off some of the pink lipstick Camila had put on her with the back of her hand, and pushed her bangs to the side. "Drummers' Curse, huh?"

"Some people believe in it, some don't."

"And you?" she asked, turning to him. "Do you believe in that kind of stuff?"

Eddie paused. Shrugged. "Sure. Seems true enough to me."

Y/n nodded. "I don't. It sounds like bullshit to me."

Eddie frowned. She looked up at him. "I'm not going to let myself fade because I'm scared. I signed up for this, you know. The least I can do is own my place. If I outshine you, it's just because I'm that good," she said matter-of-factly. "I will need help carrying the stuff, though."

EDDIE: I didn't know what to say. I mean, [laughs] what the hell do you say to that?

He felt like he'd had the rug pulled out from under him. And then, he surprised himself: he laughed.

And Y/n surprised herself then, too ― she smiled.

EDDIE: That was just...[Shakes head. Smiles.] I don't know.

"I think we can manage that." he said with a smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen...The Dunne Brothers!"

WARREN: If I were still the guy I was back then, I would completely undersell her to you right now. I'd tell you she was an average drummer who was more in it for the thrill than the craft. But that wasn't it at all. She got up there and she just...shined.

GRAHAM: We all knew she'd be scared before the first gig. In fact, she looked about ready to throw up when they announced us on stage. But the second she hit those lights, it was like she was a different person. She waved and smiled like she'd done it a hundred times. The only other person I'd seen do that ― I mean really become another person on stage ― is Billy.

BILLY: That first show with Y/n was a little bit of a trainwreck. We were at least a half beat behind the entire show. And I'm not saying I blame her, but she was new and shiny. We got through it just fine, but I think we all felt it wasn't our best show.

WARREN: That show was bitchin'.

GRAHAM: It was a great show.

WARREN: Back in those days, we'd get off stage and start cheering for ourselves like we'd just won the goddamn lottery. Somewhere along the way, that stopped. We'd just pat each other on the back, say 'good job,' and that was that. But when Y/n got backstage? She was screaming and yelling like it was the best night of her life. And all of us joined in without a second thought ― well, maybe all of us except Billy. He was kind of a hard ass, even then. None of us had ever heard this girl talk louder than a glorified whisper, and then she came out of nowhere with this full-body scream. And who did she run to? Well, I think you can guess.

CAMILA: She just about jumped into Eddie's arms.

Adrenaline is a funny thing. For one, the effect is had on different people can be vastly different depending on who it was. Some people mellowed out, some people amped up. Y/n fell into the second category.

The second she got off the stage, a giddy laugh ripped from her chest, turning more into a scream of triumph halfway through. She was buzzing. Literally. Her hands felt numb ― or, more accurately, they felt like they felt more. Everything she touched was sharp and blinding.

The next person to join in on the screaming and jumping around was Warren. Then Graham. Then Eddie. And then, reluctantly, Billy. Eddie was the last to come off stage, slinging his guitar off his shoulders, and Y/n, without thinking much about it, ran straight to him, leaping directly into his unsuspecting arms.

The others were too hyped up on their own adrenaline rushes to notice that anything out of the ordinary had happened. She wrapped her legs around his waist hanging onto him like a koala. And Eddie, who couldn't deny adrenaline, held onto her back without a second thought.

After a moment, she leaned back, arms still wrapped around his neck, faces inches apart. "Drummers' curse, huh?"

EDDIE: She didn't fade. She couldn't, not even if she tried.

Eddie just smiled and shook his head. "Sounds like bullshit to me."

[erisvansserra]

The Witch and The Viper | Eris x Reader

A/N: Hey guys! here is chapter 2 to my Fanfic. Tbh i think it's a little longer than chapter 1 ( which you can find on my page) Only light editing done because I am tired from work Anyways have fun! No triggers

You can read part 1 here

Y/N sat on a couch in the Night Court townhouse, a book on the courts history propped on her legs. Rhysand sent y/n an invite to stay at his house for a few days to meet his High lady, Feyre. The two were introduced on casual terms, then spent the whole night sharing a bottle of wine by the fire place. The next morning Y/N asked Azriel to bring her a book from the court library and here she sat, eating the book up. History was her favourite subject to read about, along with court law and policy. However , when she needed a break from all the books on past wars and legislations, she turned to romance novels. She never doubted a good romance novel paired with a glass of wine and a cozy fire could cure any illness. "Good morning y/n" Feyre chimed as she entered the sitting room, her mate by her side. Y/N looked up at the high lord and lady, giving them a bright smile "good morning" she greeted, closing the book in her lap. Rhysand was dressed in his usual all black, where as his mate chose leggings and an oversized jumper, the look of casual comfort. "I'm glad to see how interested you are in our court y/n" Rhysand smiled " to keep you in the loop we have a.. guest stopping by for a meeting today, I hope they don't bother your studies" he continued. Even though his smile was broad, y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of uneasiness at his comment of "guest". "I was just about to put it down actually" she said, reaching over and placing the 800 page book on the coffee table. "Oh good, I wish to introduce you to my sisters while Rhysand has his dull meeting" Feyre rolled her eyes and smiled to the witch of winter. After a few more words were exchanged y/n got up and went into the guest room to get changed. As she joined Feyre in the foyer she mulled over the interaction she had with the high lord and lady, she made a mental note to bring it up later.

As the day went on y/n learned three things.

One. Feyre's sister Nesta was awfully rude. Two. Feyre had a lot of patience. Three. Her sisters, like her were made.

When they returned to the townhouse later that afternoon, Feyre urged y/n to stay outside with her until the meeting was over. Y/N didn't want to cause trouble in a different court so she obeyed and sat with Feyre to watch the sun set over the mountains. It was truely beautiful, as the day became dusk the sky was painted with pink and purple hues. The cool air that swept through the night court always smelt sweet to y/n, like the whole court was constantly baking fresh goods.

Once the last beams of sunlight struggled to surpass the top of the mountain, y/n started to hear raised voices from inside the house. She looked to the High Lady who was also trying to eves drop on her mates meeting. "it's probably nothing" she assured then turned her attention back to the sky, her blue eyes dashed over the horizon like she was trying to photograph every colour in her mind. Y/N nodded her agreement, as her mind drifted she couldn't help but think about how odd Rhysand seemed earlier. Is this why he invited her here? who was he meeting with? why was it a secret? is it some political strategy meeting that was not to leave this court? Her mind raced, she had seen this exact scenario in so many of the books and reports she had read, it never turned out well. Beside her the HighLady chuckled, turning her attention back to y/n, she lifted an eyebrow and waited for Feyre to speak. "Your mental shields were down.. sorry I overheard every thought" she smiled and leaned over to grab y/n's hand. Snapping her shields back into place she retracted her hand away from Feyre. "I don't like having to keep my thoughts private" y/n warned in a cool tone. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you" Feyre said quickly lifting both of her hands in a sign of apology " But to ease your nerves, Rhysand is only establishing a new trade with another court.." she continued. Y/N did not believe a single word that came from her mouth, but decided against questioning it. She turned her attention back to the setting sun, the sky truely representing the court she was visiting. Then the front door opened. Y/N watched as a tall, red head man dressed in Autumn Court finery left the townhouse. Like he scented her on the wind, he slowly turned his head in her direction and walked over. Y/N stood at his approach, her hands clasped behind her back, puffing out her chest as she peered up at the Heir of Autumn, his canine teeth on display as he smirked down at her. "Hello, little witch" He purred with a voice of velvet "Hello Eris" she greeted back, her eyes darting between his auburn ones. "What are you doing here?" Y/n asked tilting her head to the side studying his features. His smirk turned into a charming smile as he leaned closer to the witch of winter, the tip of his nose almost touching her own. "I could ask you the same thing" he cooed, she felt goosebump raise on her arms as he spoke to her. His scent was a mixture of whiskey and smoke, y/n allowed herself to revel in it a little. But before she answered him, Rhysand crossed the threshold. "You're supposed to be leaving, eris" he reminded as his violet eyes darted between the two, a quiet threat that y/n knew wasn't for her lingered in the air. Eris rolled his eyes then straightened his posture, turning to look at the High Lord that was gesturing to the stairs before him. "Always a pleasure Rhysand" Eris scoffed as he walked away from Y/n, his back muscles rippling as he walked down the stairs and made his way to the dirt road. Y/n didn't realise she was following the Autumn court male until her feet were on the top step of the stairs, she leaned against the railing and watched as Eris winnowed away. "I didn't know you two knew each other?" Rhys asked, tucking his mate into his side as they joined y/n on the steps. "We don't know each other very well" y/n answered honestly, not looking away from where eris winnowed away "he just lives next door" she joked.

Feyre and Rhys chuckled at her comment, finally pulling her eyes away from that dirt road. Feyre left Rhysands side to link arms with y/n, together they walked back inside and sat for dinner. No mention of Eris was made that night.

Two days later she was back home, but on this morning she didn't care about her walk. She wanted to talk to him. She walked to usual place their patrols crossed paths, but to her surprise Eris was already there, waiting for her. She approached him slowly, making sure to note the area around him incase someone was lurking behind a tree. Eris wore his usual riding uniform with complementary knee high boots, his red hair was slick back and messy like he had just woken up. "Hello Eris" she greeted casually, her toes just on the line that separated their two courts "want something?" she continued. Eris turned on his charm and smiled at the witch of winter, only it did not have the affect he hopped it would. Y/N's mind was steel when it came to court affairs, she had read too many books to not know when something was a miss, wether it was her court or not. "I just wanted to see you" he answered, his boots crunching on the foliage as he approached the edge of his border. "Liar" she cooed softly to him, his eyes shone with something she couldn't place as the word left her lips.

Sighing deeply he rolled his eyes and shook his head, his arrogance was plastered on his face as he looked to her again. "Is that anyway to speak to an heir?" he asked raising an eyebrow "do heirs often lie to their bordering courts?" she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest. Eris was fully aware, as most people are, of how well read y/n was. How strategic and almost menacing her presence was in any war room, based on her knowledge alone she was a threat and an ally. He licked his lips slowly as he studied her, trying to find the right words to say that may ease her suspicions of that night in the town house. "What is it you wish to ask, witch?" He asked, matching her stance and crossing his arms, almost like he was mocking her. "What were you truely doing in the night court?" finally, she had asked the question that had been plaguing her for the last 48 hours. Courts having meetings with each other was normal, what wasn't was an heir meeting a high lord for a trade deal.. and fighting about it.

"You know I can't tell you" he chuckled warmly, his face brightening as he watched her face turn from stoic to frustrated. Eris couldn't lie to himself, he found her question.. cute, endearing even. The fact she thought she could pry the truth from him made just by asking a simple question made his lips quirk up into an easy smile. Y/n's arms slacked to her side as she huffed in frustration, Eris let out a breathy laugh in response. She looked back to him, her eyes blazing with determination, the magic on the tip of her tongue but before she could coax the answer out of him, she stopped. "Do it" he urged his eyebrows furrowed as he marked her movements "Coax me witch" he challenged, his demeanour changing from casual courtier to powerful heir.

"I'm not going to use my powers on you eris.. and stop calling me that" she sighed and ran a hand through her hair. They were at a standstill, one had information the other so desperately wanted, but neither wanted to go to extremes to obtain it.

Y/N huffed another sigh and turned on her heel to trudge back up to the winter court castle. "Where are you going now?' Eris called after her "Home" she called back almost loosing her footing on the slippery grass. Eris watched her leave from his place against the tree. He wanted to call out to her some more, challenge that intelligent mind of hers further. But he found himself unable to speak, not because of a curse or a charm, he just didn't want to ruin the drive she had to figure it out. He shrugged and pushed off the maple tree, turned his back on the winter court and walked back to his forest home.

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen take care of their sick s/o

requested by @cinnamoroxie : "agh i think ive been getting sick 😭 could u write svt w a sick reader / or just a reader w a sore throat and cant speak w out it hurting pls? love u hope youre doing well "

notes: i :(((( want :((( a joshua :((((

masterlist

seungcheol:

cancels all your plans for the rest of the day when you wake up in the morning barely able to speak. won't let you protest, saying that you need to prioritise your health okay bc these people you're meeting aren't as important to him as you are. if you've just got a sniffly nose n sore throat, he'll let you sleep on him but if you're coughing n sneezing everywhere then sorry, he loves you but maybe stay away from him for a few days? 

jeonghan:

will do everything for you. even tho he doesn't have the loudest voice, he'll try his hardest to yell over the other members to get them to quieten down so he can listen to your hoarse whispers n get you whatever you need <3 gives you so many cough drops that you constantly have one in your mouth the entire time. you can taste them still on your tongue for like a day after you feel better

joshua:

gives you head massages if you have a headache, makes you honey tea if your throat hurts, always has tissues on hand if your nose is running. The Best™ at looking after you. won't leave your side, even if you're spraying germs everywhere, and he has a cold that lasts for three weeks by the end of it, but you're happy and healthy n that's all that matters to him

junhui:

kind of a fluttery mess when you get sick, doesn't rlly know what to do. pats your head constantly, asking if you're okay, and swaddles you in blankets. also gives you so many painkillers and antibiotics bc he doesn't Know what else to do okay and please you sound so terrible n croaky pls take this medicine bc it's meant to make you better and he hates when you're ill :((

hoshi:

coos and baby talks to you when you're sick and a blocked nose mess. speaks in a whisper back to you if you have a sore throat and can barely speak, makes those canned soups for you and spoon feeds it to you. he's a messy feeder tho, n most of it gets around your mouth but he wipes it away vv gently afterwards. hoshi is probably so, so soft when taking care of someone when they're sick tbh &lt;3

wonwoo:

accompanies you everywhere you go. insists you lie down and sleep but if you don't, then he's hovering around you like a concerned mother to make sure you don't overdo it. tells everyone you meet that you have a sore throat and so you can't speak, and Will drag you away if you start coughing too hard, scolding you lightly and pulling a scarf out of nowhere to wrap around your neck

woozi:

wants to take time off working so bad to help take care of you but he rlly can't </3 sets medicine and a glass of water on the table for you to take in the morning, regularly calls you (or texts, if you can't speak) to see how you're doing. checks up on you at night, smiles and kisses you on the forehead if you wake up and blearily murmur his name. he's busy, but he'll still make time to be soft for you

minghao:

always has tissues. and hand sanitizer. and cough drops. and paracetamol. has literally everything, really. says well done and pats your head when you drain a whole glass of water while swallowing the medicine, bc drinking water and flushing out toxins is the best way to get rid of an illness. another person who baby talks you if you're all sick n pouty

mingyu:

makes soup. makes tea. forces both liquids down your throat even if you complain bc it's good for you and he spent so much of his precious time making it for you how dare you try and refuse???? it definitely helps with your sore throat the next day, though, and he looks so smug as he ladles you another bowl of soup to have in the morning. 

dokyeom:

almost starts crying when you tell him u have a sore throat through barely-there whispers bc the pain :((( of not being able to speak :((( that breaks his heart to think about. knows the struggles of runny noses So Well, whips out a tissue and presents it in front of your face if you so much as sniffle quietly. hugs you the entire time, wakes up the next morning with a sore throat and then Actually starts crying

seungkwan:

your personal megaphone whenever you're sick and can't speak. yells at the other members to shut up and listen when you have something to say, and then repeats what you whisper in his rlly loud voice. won't let you have meds (they are!! the demon's pills!!!!) but learns from mingyu how to make rlly good chicken broth for you

vernon:

gets so sad for u when you croak out to him that you can't speak bc your throat hurts so bad. makes you gargle with salt water after brushing your teeth bc it helps disinfect your throat (this is true actually n it really helps). randomly holds his hand to your forehead to check your temperature, but he can never tell if you're running hot or if it's just him

chan:

is all "oh no you're sick :(((( that's terrible also pls don't come too close to me" but pulls you in for a hug immediately if you even vaguely hint at wanting one. googles if throat massages are a thing when you tell him you can't speak bc it hurts, gives you lemon honey tea bc he finds out that helps. kinda ends up massaging your throat? his hands are always warm and they feel nice when placed on your neck

request guidelines

[kingcunny]

thank you sm!! <3

ive made a couple posts about balerion and viserys before, and i got another one in the works in my drafts. like im obviously biased but theyre one of my favorite dragon-rider bonds, even though they were only together for a year.

jorah in the main series says at one point that targaryen dragons were bred for war, and in war they died. balerion being the last of the valyria-born dragons probably has this instinct better than most. he takes aegon i as his rider because aegon is a conqueror, and is going to use him for the purpose he was born for.

the aegon i -> maegor line i think is pretty easy to understand. just like aegon i, maegor is also a conqueror. balerion sees in him that same war-instinct that he saw in aegon i, that he himself has.

maegor -> aerea is where things start to shift. balerion is an old war machine, but his last two riders died outside of war and away from him. aegon i from a stroke, maegor was eaten by the iron throne. hes made his lair on his not-quite-home dragonstone, when this upset little girl who misses the excitement of her life at court climbs on his back and tells him to take her home. i think balerion was fairly homesick at this point and thought “*i* want to go home too.” so he takes them home. back to his home. except balerion doesnt know that his home as been destroyed while he was gone. he spends those years with aerea *searching* for anything, any sign that the valyria that he remembers is still there. but theres nothing. its doomed and filled with monsters now. aerea spends the whole time begging him to take her back home, back to her mother. its only after hes injured and aerea is deathly ill that hes forced to accept that this is no longer their home. theres nothing here for them anymore, they dont belong here anymore than he belongs in westeros. so balerion reluctantly takes aerea back. maybe theres something they can do to save her, or failing that, at least shell be able to die in her home even if he cant die in his. after this balerion becomes the first dragon chained in the dragonpit.

finally, aerea -> viserys. i think viserys felt fairly alienated from the rest of his family, as he was so different from any of the other men he was related to. but he was raised to idolize old valyria (or at least the targaryens version of it) and feels that if he can claim balerion, if the last living aspect of valyria accepted him, well that means theres *something* targaryen in him. balerion was the living god of the thing he was raised to worship. when alyssa wanted to claim balerion, the dragonkeepers dissuaded her by telling her hes old and slow now, and wouldnt she rather a younger more energetic mount? i wonder if they tried the same thing with viserys, but viserys wouldnt care about that. thats not why viserys wanted balerion. all viserys wanted was balerions acceptance. balerion is very old now, old and tired and in pain. hes a war machine that can no longer fight, a dragon that can barely fly. but hes still holding on. he cant die yet. viserys is very different from balerions other riders, and i think that was the point. balerion could tell viserys didnt want anything from him, other than *him*. so balerion accepted viserys as he was, and viserys accepts balerion as he is. balerion gives viserys his final flight and thats enough for him. more than that even, after their first and last flight viserys tells baelon he wanted to fly to dragonstone but was worried that balerion wouldnt survive the flight. he was *worried for balerion*, worried about *his* health and safety and comfort. when has he had another rider care about him like that? (when has any dragon tbh...) viserys doesnt want to put more on balerion than he can handle. whatever balerion can offer him is enough. all viserys wanted was his love, and he got that. so he loves and comforts balerion in his final days. balerion doesnt have a home anymore, but viserys gives him one inside himself. he loves balerion enough to let him go. to let balerion finally lay down and rest.

(sorry for the screenshot answer i accidentally posted it before i was done <3)

[crabonfire]

Oh no! The [merc class] has been captured! An enemy team member is preparing for torture/interrogation... Right?

Maybe not!

"You know, I've told them dozens of times to give me clear orders. But today I've been ordered to, and I quote, "take good care of [class]". So that's exactly what I'm going to do."

And then they give the captive a massage/mani-pedi/tea party idk.

So yeah, mercs of TF2 being "taken good care of", except it's literal care (with exception of restraints, probably, since malicious compliance can only go so far and outright letting a captive go would be too much).

HAHAHAHAHAHHA I love this!!! s/o just like me fr!!!

Mercs who's..being taken care of by the enemy s/o.

warnings: this is silly!!! beware of the goof

characters: all mercs

note: this can be seen as platonic or romantic!!😎😎

♡Scout♡

•...what? what the hell?

• "is this some kinda joke or sum?" He says as you pour him a cup of tea, still tied up.

"Are you questioning my tea pouring abilities? I'm pretty good okay! I've been practicing you know?"

"...what?"

"Oh were you not...talking about the tea?"

"fuck no??"

• he's not really complaining? Just?? Angrily confused and pleasantly surprised at the same time???

• he saw how tough you can be on the battlefield so when you just sit him down on a tiny table with an authentic Chinese tea set, with plates of cookies and cake he's...what?

He honestly thinks it's kinda nice how your actually not gonna torture him (again why would he complain) but...goddamn. okay.

♡Pyro♡

• LETS GOOOOOOOO

• "do you want more tea?"

"MmMPH!! mmmph mmhhuhhd mmhhh :)" ( yes!! more sugar please :) )

"got it."

• You both get along great. Trust that he will openly get himself kidnapped if it meant that you'd be his friend.

"Hey wait-they get back in 4 hours...you...wanna paint each others nails?"

"MMMMHHH!?!?!?! mmh mmhhy mmhd." (YESSS?!?! oh my god.)

• painting each others nails (on his gloves because he wants his gloves to be pretty) and just gossiping about each others teams. it's nice. he got a new person to ramble to!!

"Dude oh my god our scout is so ANNOYINGGGG"

"mmhmm mmhhhd mmh mmhds...mmhhs mh mmmhd." (You should see ours...he's a dick.)

♡Soldier♡

• he feels embarrassed and disappointed. (if you read the comics you know why)

• he's just quiet the entire time, angry and confused on why he's not being roughly tortured now. (he's definitely masochistic or something...not surprising!!! he loves the fight)

• "why aren't you drinking your tea?"

"I DONT WANT YOUR SCUMMY TEA! I DO NOT TRUST ANYTHING THAT YOU WANT TO GIVE ME!"

"Suit yourself."

a couple minutes pass by, and he gives in and takes a sip. he does not like tea. you laugh and give him something else, and he ends up just accepting his fate.

• "what colour do you want your nails to be?"

"...RED...blue...and...white..?"

"Like the American flag?"

"YES!"

He calms down after a while and just rambles about his "war" stories to you.

Once he gets back to base completely unharmed with a newfound appreciation for the enemy team's [YOUR CLASS] and...American themed nails? He gets stared at by his co workers.

"WHAT ARE YOU LOOKIN AT? YOU WANT TO START A FIGHT BOY?"

"ACK-FUCK- no no-nothin...geez solly what happened to ya?"

He glares daggers at him through his helmet, and moves on with his day.

♡Demo♡

• oh. okay.

• all his worry just washes away as he sits down with you, getting his nails painted purple.

"Oh, you don't like tea? What do you like?"

"Ya got any scrumpy?"

"Huh, yeah actually. A ton, I'll get you a bottle."

"Thanks love, yer an angel."

• you really think he's gonna complain about it? Nah...free alcohol AND he gets his nails done? bro. he might take you out for dinner to repay your generosity tbh.

• you two just joke around and have some fun, he really likes you now. he will talk to you in the middle of battle and just casually flirt. (If your not interested he'll back off.)

♡Heavy♡

• thinks it's a trick but once he senses there is no ill intentions from you he's caved in.

• thinks it's pretty sweet, such a determined spirit in battle is so sweet and silly within closed doors.

• you two will exchange stories on each others personal lives, he will gladly ramble on about his family if you let him.

• has a newfound interest in you, you two don't fight much now during battles and just pass each other by, you two are like friends!!

♡Engie♡

• OK lmao

• yeah sure, has to do this with pyro daily so it's no different coming from the enemy team.

• "Sorry to bother you sugar, but my restrains are gettin' a little tight. Mind loosening them up a bit?"

"Oh totally, sorry man."

"S' alright, thank you for your hospitality."

• you two just sorta gossip about your teams, he has an insane amount of dirt on each of the mercenaries...

"No way, actually?"

"Yeah. You shoulda' seen the poor guys face when Soldier did that to him. Scout and Demoman were laughin' so hard I thought they were gonna choke!"

• you two probably spend too much time together that you've both forgotten that you were supposed to hold him captive, now his arm is around your shoulder, the two of you, slightly drunk and laughing crying to hilarious stories.

• he respects you as a person, and enjoys your company. Wouldn't mind being kidnapped again if it meant he'd spent it with you.

♡Medic♡

• he's laughing. Okay, sure, fine, better than torture.

• I genuinely don't know what to say other than the fact I think the whole time he's just laughing due to how silly it is.

• comes back and rambles to heavy about how his kidnapping was literally just a free spa day, with white painted nails and the smell of tea radiated from him.

♡Sniper♡

• is this some kind of sick, fucked up joke?

• he'll actually be kinda mad, like all this trouble just for you to drink tea with him? Fuck off

• "Mate, when I get outta these restraints I'm gonna show you why you shouldn't fuck with me."

"...dude what? chillax dawg I'm literally making us tea."

"Bloody hell."

• he gives in...after an hour or so.

• sighing, "just pick a random color, don't make it bright." He says, as your pulling our your nail polish. "You got it boss." You smile, taking out a muddy green color that fits him quite well.

• he's just ranting the entire time honestly it's like a therapy session

♡Spy♡

• finds this amusing and will play along.

• "Your tea set has quite an exquisite color, it's one I have yet seen on any tea sets."

"Yeah! Got this off of a bidding, she's a real beauty."

He snickers, "Indeed she is. May I have another cup?"

"Of course my good man."

• it's like he's role-playing with somebody he finds it cute!!

• he will not say much, but he will listen. He will not let you do his nails, but he will do them for you instead. flirting, trying to woo you.

"You have the prettiest hands, I cannot believe these are the hands that have stolen my lives, time and time again. You are full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Aw man, you charmer. Your just saying that."

"No, I am simply stating the truth. You are quite the interesting character."

• bro got that victim rizz (he got kidnapped so technically)

Hi...I'm back...sortve. um. Yeah. Sup brooo

[shower-phantom-ideas]

You guys just don’t understand

You can’t even begin to grasp the amount of pranks Danny could pull on super heros (is that one words? Superheros?)

Added a read more because I hate long posts

Danny as a ghost is so powerful. Like our boy can walk through walls, disappear, and fly! Do you even grasp how much more unique he is than the others guys??

Jokes aside just imagine if you will. Danny could leave batburger cups next to Batman all the time (he comes back later to toss em out of Big ol B doesn’t)

Like hell we talk about Danny just showing up basically stalking the heros but ok hear me out. He didn’t mean to figure out Batmans identity ok but he was in the right place at the right time and over heard some stuff. Now he follows Bruce Wayne around instead. Always spitting out if a batburger cup. Maybe Bruce makes eye contact with him and one time Danny just leans his drink out to as one does to offer a sip xD the man is horrified.

For the ?Robins? The other bats maybe he leaves gifts of sorts. Stuff they would like made from his ice or something. He can understand becoming a hero young and most (if not all) of them did that. He plays favourites with the younger Heros for sure. But hes still making them have there “God?? Is that you” moments like everyone else.

Hell he could follow Superman around and always make his cape flow against the wind and the Hero wouldn’t know wtf is going on. Maybe Superman hears a very slight snickering maybe but the prank is harmless enough so why worry too much. I mean it’s probably bad someone can do this without getting detected till they give themselves away by laughing but nothing harmful yet. (Yet would emphasise Batman)

I don’t know anything about GreenArrow but I assume he uses a bow and arrow so I could imagine Danny grabbing his arrows and making them fly in crazy wild paths before hitting their mark.

Idk honestly how he would fuck with GreenLatern besides like using his ghost powers to try and one up his ring. Like Lantern makes a shield? Danny makes a better one next to it or in front of it. Tbh it’s actually helping Danny get better at his powers so he does this a lot rip Hal (I did not know he was played by Ryan Reynolds maybe ill watch the newer movie)

He refuses to mess with Wonder Woman because the Phandom has told me she is his fav thus he refuses to prank her. He respects her too much and is a huge enough fan that hes too nervous to even approach. Thus she thinks she is this pranksters least favourite since she is never bothered.

Aqua-man (thx for the correction siri) is pretty fun to prank because Danny can follow the man underwater. Idk anything about science of it but imagine Danny like making a space he can talk in with his ice powers (making a bubble of sorts) to make spooky noises at ?Arthur? (R we seriously going with Arthur in this one?) like I assume without actual fish related powers, or with them I havent seen any thing aquaman, you can’t talk underwater. But also if Danny figures out his real name hes 100% gonna be playing the Hey Arthur theme at this man all the time.

He just lowkey overshadows cyborg. Not in a controlling way but just along for the ride kinda way. He was gonna make remarks about his tech but ended up being stunned by how good it is. “Fam I aint gonna lie. I came here to follow you around and make comments like a streamer but your tech is crazy cool. I mean you could have saved a little room with a more compact cooling unit but I mean this is probably some of the best stuff I have seen outside my family!” Or something idk. Maybe he goes full on antman in coldwar

As for the Flash thats pretty simple. He doesn’t let the Flash run from him. I don’t think Danny could keep up with the Flash at all. Like man cants have everyones powers (can’t he tho) but he just hangs on and pretends to have followed. I mean hes invisible the whole time so not like anyone can see lmao though if (idk who the flash is? So ill use Barry cause thats why google say) if Barry goes too fast he might get Danny to give up the game cause boy is on the side vomiting. Barry is pretty smug about probably being the first to throw the prankster for a loop but Danny is just on the side like “how can you go that fast and not be sick dude”

Like tbh I was gonna just make a list of pranks he pulls on Batman but yall seem to enjoy the Justice League so here go off I guess.

Honestly I had to charge my phone so I forget a lot of the post rip this kne

[burningvelvet]

I officially finished Pride and Prejudice yesterday! Some more rambles to add to the ongoing collection:

1 Learning that Wickham and Lydia are on the downward path I predicted is really satisfying for some reason. Just the image of the classic rake being forced to marry the unruly teen he had a fling with and then being forced to deal with the repercussions of his actions for the first time in his life — so good considering he seemingly believed he could partake in ruining her reputation and get away with it. And Lydia isn’t consciously suffering (although in reality, her prospects/reputation have indeed suffered) because she’s so oblivious to the misfortune around her that she thinks her life is much better than it is. It’s all just so true to life imo. Nothing is black-and-white. Every family has the worrisome trainwreck couple and these two are the perfect representation of that. Also, Wickham/Lydia give me major Byron/Claire Clairmont vibes (my fellow Romanticists iykyk).

2 Elizabeth’s conversation with Lady Catherine was so nerve-wracking. Elizabeth handled it so well, which surprised me. Toward the end of the novel I was getting a sense that Elizabeth had really come into her own self & seeing how expressive she became in comparison to some of the other women around her was very refreshing.

3 Elizabeth and Darcy’s long conversation while walking was actually cute, I can’t lie. I didn’t really find Darcy personally appealing at first, but he grew on me — which I’m aware was the intention — but due to the popularity of the romantic elements of the story in popular media and film adaptations, I was really surprised just how little Darcy and Elizabeth interacted if we take into account the entire length of the novel and how many actual conversations they had. It’s more realistic that way due to how things like travel, socializing, and marriage were conducted back then. I think for the sake of modern audiences and modern concepts of romance/etc., adaptations and maybe even fans themselves really overemphasize the romantic elements of the story. What I mean is that it is a love story, yes, but our concepts of love in the Anglosphere have changed a lot since Austen’s time. Adaptations reflect this change, although they also probably skew the reader’s reception of the original novel. Alternatively, the Georgian era was a bit more lively than we regularly think, which is seen by Wickham/Lydia’s rendezvous, and so we could also interpret the novel as containing more passion covertly hidden beneath the pages. There are a lot of ways to interpret the concepts of love/romance as shown in the novel.

4 Lydia is truly her mother’s daughter imo. I don’t have a thought-out argument to defend this opinion but it definitely showed that Lydia was her mother’s favorite and Elizabeth was her father’s favorite — and interestingly, they married two men who were enemies to each other, and diametrically opposed in personality. I think one of the biggest takeaways from the novel is that the Bennet parents were an ill-suited match and so their children are having this struggle of trying not to repeat the generational curse — in Lydia’s case she fails like her parents did, whereas Elizabeth and Jane manage well.

5 I routinely forgot that Mary Bennet existed. Like was she even in the novel or was I just zoning out every time she appeared? Lmao

6 Mr. Bennet sarcastically saying that he loves Wickham and Collins more than Darcy and Bingley because the former two amuse him more and give him free entertainment… same tbh!

7 It’s interesting how all the men and women function as foils for each other and represent various reactions to the system they live in. Mrs. Bennet, Mrs. Bingley, Lady Catherine, Mrs. Gardiner, are all interesting to compare to each other, and Mr. Collins, Mr. Bingley, Mr. Wickham, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bennet, Mr. Gardiner are also in that way very neatly comparable.

8 I’m biased because I’ve studied Shakespeare but I really got a big Shakespeare vibe the entire time. I saw someone on here post that the novel may have been inspired by Much Ado specifically and I completely agree! I looked it up and there have been articles and academic papers writing about the influence of Shakespeare on Austen and P&P particularly, so we’re not alone here.

— Overall, I’ve been pleasantly surprised to find that I enjoyed this book way more than I thought I would! If none of you have read it, or are only familiar with adaptations, definitely give it a try.

[angelgoeslewd]

cannot find aNY OMEGAVERSE Sigma headcanons SO ILL DO IT

alpha sigma is 100% the alpha everyone wants to have.

he’s super in tune with his omega: aftercare during heats (or even just in general tbh), senses even the slightest change in your scent (probably will tell u when ur heat is coming even before you know). literally an omega’s alpha. he’s head over heels when it comes to taking care of you.

but do not confuse his gentle care towards you for weakness. his alphaness can be a crutch of sorts, at times. since he isn’t combat gifted, he heavily relies on his scent and fangs to keep people away from you. he is 100% the type to jump to baring his teeth when he feels like you’re in danger. which, in this omegaverse, is Not Good™️ and also Very Illegal™️ (basically on the same level as pulling a gun)

u are probably covered in his scent 24/7

in fact, he loves to come over you on his break or lunch (or bOTH) and rescent you. nuzzling your neck until he’s doused you in his own smell. 🥰 he loves your own scent, but he can’t stand the thought of anyone thinking you are anything but His.

stronger alphas like fyodor or dazai can tell he does this as overcompensation but it works on the general population Very Well. and he will keep doing it.

this also includes your mark.

he prefers if you keep it displayed and will happily remark you at anytime, but understands if you want or have to keep it under wraps. not that he likes it. (and yes, this will make him somehow scent you MORE)

but all in all, Sigma’s truly just worried about your safety. he hates to think that he wouldn’t be able to defend his other half, something so entirely His in this world that he is so objectively removed from, if push came to shove.

but his defensiveness can also work against him at times. it does make people think he’s a lot worse than he actually is. many people ask if you’re alright when you’re alone, and if you need help. you have to reassure many other omegas that your alpha is a lovely man and would never do anything to harm you, in any sort of way. your parents probably had a heart attack when you visited, thoroughly covered in Sigma’s smell. wondering if you would ever be coming back again or if you hid bruises under your clothes… of course, you brought him with you next time, and they were happy and satisfied when they met the kind, gentle man you had made your alpha.

you would be known around the casino as his. basically treated like a VIP. people would make way when you walked around. the Casino Man’s Omega was not to be messed with. most people knew better than to hit on you or make you uncomfortable. That was probably one of the only way to be thrown out, but it was most literally.

you could play any game you wanted for free, and the dealers would always make it so you could win… if you wanted. drinks and food were always on the house. anything else would be airlifted within an hour. Sigma would spare no expense on you.

the only thing that would worried him would be Fyodor. he knows he wouldn’t be able to take you from him, whether or not it was willful. he has severe anxiety attacks over you ever meeting him. and whether or not he should keep you from his knowledge or not. he knows Fyodor will probably find out anyways, and it might make it worse if he keeps you a secret from him, but the thought of you ever even touching his hand as a greeting spirals him. as a happy medium, he does tell Fyodor about you but makes sure you have a self care day in his chambers ALONE and MONITORED by no one else but himself whenever Fyodor comes around. (logistically he knows that wouldn’t stop him if he really tried but it’s a way Sigmas copes, ok!?)

he doesn’t know that Fyodor has already gone out of his way to meet you. he’s happy that you give Sigma extra motivation to stay on his plan and to defend the casino for the moment, but he does realize that you can be a loose end for his end goal. but you are a gorgeous Omega… he has never thought of himself as an Alpha to take an Omega but you might change those thoughts in him…

Sigma gets extremely needy when his rut rolls around. He’s basically holed up in his office all day, cock buried in you, as you perch on his lap, his nose shove into your neck so he can just breath you in all day long. he’s never rough, but is very handsy. you might be left with small bruises just from how many times he grabs you.

do not make fun of him if he tears up at the amount of pleasure. he has literally never experienced anything close to this before and it Euphoric. he sometimes can’t stand it, but he doesn’t want it to stop either. he didn’t even know HOW to be an Alpha before you.

and that thought is grounding. the fact that you’ve made something out of his nothing. it makes him feel worthy. it makes him feel special. it makes you feel like his home.