#it was so fucking strange. just the oddest thing.

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: February 7

"Living Next Door to Alice (Who the Fuck is Alice)" by Smokie

[spdrvyn]

nauseously nurtured: MIGUEL O'HARA

after getting discharged from work, miguel tries to give you as much as attention as possible while he's away. only to grow concerned, when you don't pick up his call on the last day of your break.

hurt/comfort. omg?! another post?! that's crazy, anyway time to disappear for a month! (just kidding, i have another fic to post on v-day)

Love is in the air? Wrong, gas leak! 

That was the clever message you sent to Miguel while he bombarded you with calls immediately afterwards to check if you were okay. It was as you described, there was a gas leak at work so you had the next three days off as they sorted the issue. 

He had insisted (if not, forced) you to quarantine in that duration for good reasoning, spoiling you with all of your favorite take out places while you two tried to keep in touch through call and messages. 

Concern had worn Miguel through when he got back home to you, he wasn't able to tear himself away. Checking your eyes, ears, mouth even for any signs of sickness and letting out the biggest huff of relief when you're completely spotless. You insisted that the only sickness in you was how sick you were for him, to that he wanted to roll his eyes at but he'll put up with your corny lines as long as it meant you were healthy and happy. 

Next morning, he dreaded having to go to work. Multiversal protection wasn't something he was feeling when you were home and all his for the taking, but you practically pushed him out of bed when he didn't let up on his grasp on you. Still, his attachment didn't evade you even when you were miles away from each other. 

You texted him the oddest things, Miguel found himself with a fond smile in the middle of a full cafeteria with multiple eyes on him because you sent him a stupid fucking 0.5 image of a stray cat. To which he had to glare other spiders down from sheer embarrassment, scarfing down his food to hide back into his office. 

The call time averaged on four hours, sometimes seven to eight if there wasn't any urgent business. Jess or Peter B. would join in too, but the latter was more intrusive if all else. 

On the third way, you don't call him. 

Nor do you pick up Miguel's calls, the worry came back to him like it always did. He texted you, over and over but you didn't even leave him on read either. 

Of course, he's unlucky enough to have more business that urgently needs tending to so he takes care of that first. Gruffly pushing buttons on his watch to call you again as the extraction team works behind him, he brightens up under the mask when you actually answer him this time. 

That little hologram he'd have of you doesn't appear this time, which means that your video was off. Again, strange. You always had your video on when talking to him, most of the time it wasn't even focused on you but whatever you were doing. Still, he wasn't going to waste the little time he had thinking about it. 

"Cariño," he felt the breath enter his lungs again. "You didn't pick up my call a while ago, que paso? Are you feeling sick from the leak?" That last question stuck to his suspicions as he heard the sound of sniffling and nose blowing on the other side of the call, the grip he had on his wrist tightening. 

"Migs, I need you." you sniffled, "Could you come home please?" You didn't need to say anymore than that. 

As the team begun to call for him, he cussed under his breath. Moving closer to his watch to wish you a goodbye before ending the call, sending you a quick text that he'd be home soon and he does. 

Two hours later. 

There were too many problems that needed taking care of. Injured spiders, broken equipment, not to mention that the signal towers were down for whatever reason so he couldn't find a way to contact you. It was maddening to maintain any sort of composure in those two hours, the thought of you all sick and needy at home was the only thing keeping him from simply losing it. 

He'd swung back to his home in a daze, nearly missing sight of the poles or buildings in his way that he'd almost bumped into them and probably would have caused him more time to get back to you. It was already dark when he slipped into the window, when he saw your shriveling form on the bed. 

You had a comforter draped over your entire body, a show blasting from your phone speaker. Multiple tissues were scattered on the sheets of the bed, littered on the floor too. An empty glass of water with a crumpled pack of chips on the bedside table, how pitiful it all looked. 

He approached the bed slowly, letting his presence be known by his weight being brought down on the mattress as it sunk slightly. The noises from your phone silence as he pulls the blanket up slightly, only to discover that you're not sick. 

Puffy eyes, messy hair, ruined makeup, outside clothes, and runny mascara were telltale signs of what had happened for you to be in such a state. His gaze had softened, but yours didn't. Your frown deepened as you yanked the comforter from his grasp and covered yourself with it again as another sob was ripped from you. 

"I– things were getting too crazy back at work," he begun to grovel. "Lo siento, por favor. I should've been there for you and I wasn't, please forgive me." 

He noticed the tremble as you growled in frustration, abandoning your hiding altogether as you seethed at him. "God damn it!" the ink from your mascara no longer had any sort of effect, clear tears streamed down your cheeks. "Why– why do you have to do this everytime? Ask for forgiveness, be so- so understanding and caring for- for other people—" 

His confusion is most imminent, but the fretfulness on his face overshadowed that as you curled against him, your hands fisting the nano-fabric of his suit. It glitches and bends around your manicured fingers, his own hands move to grip your waist and pull you closer to him in some form of a hug. 

"You know what they said about you?" your voice shook with unease, "They said that you're so perfect, too good for me, how it was even possible that I bagged someone like you." 

Disdain plagued each word that you spewed, Miguel wanted to be offended, he should have been offended. But deep down, he knows that all of his hatred was truly directed at yourself. "Who's 'they'?"

"My friends!" you pushed against him once more, but his hands remained steady on you. Moving up and down your sides in a gesture of soothing, you push a dainty finger against the hard muscle of his chest. "And they're right! I don't even know if it's all in good fun anymore because- because you—" 

No more is able to come out of your mouth aside from a pathetic croak, you shudder before your grip on his suit loosens and you become limp against his hold. "M'sorry," you whimper, "I'm being emotional again. Too much. You have too much of me." 

This hurt so much more than any wound he's sustained from battle, seeing you in this state was bad enough, but to know that he wasn't able to come to your beck and call the moment he'd heard about it probably stung even more. 

How could he be so careless? Why couldn't he go just a little faster at HQ? Maybe then, you wouldn't have turned out like this. A sad, shivering mess in his hold. His fingers curl around your cheeks, flushed and red. Either from crying or from being inebriated, it didn't matter.

"It's okay," he leans forward, your tears are salty as he kisses them away. Your breath hitches, eyelashes fluttering as his lips feel hot on your skin. "I think it's beautiful. You're beautiful." 

The moment freezes for a bit, Miguel's lips barely leave your face, neither does his hands as he calms you down. You think how someone could be so sweet, while barely even saying a word. He mumbles unintelligible phrases under his breath that you're too dazed to pick up on, but you can only hope he's whispering about how much he loves you.

And he really does, he loves you more than whatever "too much" meant. The rush of victory he feels after successfully completing a mission couldn't compare to the sheer happiness of getting home to you, safe and sound. Confiding in your presence, forgetting about everything and everybody else until the next morning. 

It gets harder and harder to move, to breathe, you go as limp as a ragdoll. Miguel still holds you, he moves his lips to your forehead in one long kiss. There's still some part of you that wants to be closer, closest, so weakly you pull at his bicep.

He shields you from all else for a while, the idle sounds of the city don't even make it to your ears except for the steady thump of Miguel's heart as your cheek is pressed against his chest. His hand tangles in your hair, brushing through knots while scratching at your scalp in the meanwhile. 

You don't think that you say anything to each other for the rest of the night, but that's okay. You're okay. You're beautiful. 

[dear-tortured-adam]

" warmth from a calmer sensation " | MINI FIC

╰┈➤ is it the fever? or my love for you? | WC : ≈ 0.9K

" Would you then be kind enough to let me tend to you? "

pairing: barbatos x GN!MC

ᡣ𐭩 ⸻ It was a normal day at RAD — so normal that you forgot you were isekai'd in this lovingly sinful of a place. One thing was strange, however: you were tired.

SO TIRED that it was getting concerning. It was simply suffocating.

With walking feeling like a chore or even headaches forming with no particular reason. With how you groaned when you had to bring papers to the newspaper club even when it's just two printed documents. With how your world spun in circles with no direction, on blurs and unblurs, on the heat you sensed from your tongue . . .

It caught you off-guard when you placed your finger on your lips, flinching upon feeling the warm sensation. Unusual. You swore it shouldn't be... You grabbed your hand and gilded it down your cheek, feeling the back of it against your neck and—

Oh. OH.

The hand retracted itself. You stare at the wall as you continue to process... That yes, you might have a fever.

Looking around the room, you frantically searched for something, anything to prove you're wrong. That's right, it's not a fever— today must be hotter than usual!! Yes that made sense! [Not when the Devildom lacks a sun.]

You got up from your seat, putting back all your belongings in your bag. You needed to leave this place. With a groan and a hand along your hair, you begin walking out the class—

"Is something wrong, my dear?”

—or not. Fuck. You hope you heard the wrong voice. That was a hallucination. He is not behind you. That deeply sweet addicting voice's owner wasn't behind you. That's right. You took another step—

—You feel a cotton glove touch your shoulder, sending a jolt down your spine. He was behind you.

"You seem troubled," the voice spoke with a sigh. Even without seeing his face, you could tell that he was beyond disappointed with your gesture. Akin to the tone he used when you overhead him scolding the young master. Out of courtesy, you turned around. Awkwardly facing the renowned butler. . .

"Hey Barbatos..."

This surely was an embarrassing moment. He squinted his eyes at you, observing your demeanour from head to toe. His frown had already shifted to a small smile, though Barbatos wasn't willing to excuse you just yet.

The latter bowed his head, removing the hand from your shoulder. Was he... frowning? It was near difficult to notice any slight change in his poker face. "How displeasing it is that you keep your worries to yourself..." he said. "Tell me, what's wrong, dear sheep?"

"! ! !"

Always the caring butler; here to make sure that this academy's dearest human doesn't fall ill to what may concern them.

"Just..."

You had no choice, huh? He'll find out one way or another. But you also didn't want to directly tell him. Whatever emotion you felt earlier was replaced with a tinge of frustration.

"Can you lend me a hand?"

Barbatos perked up. "Oya?"

Drat. Flushed red while looking away.

"Just let me borrow your hand."

Was it weird to ask? Yes. But you had to- not only to inadvertently tell him about your situation, but to also make sure that your initial assumption was right. You could feel the heat getting worse by the second, the heart beating a tad bit faster.

Barbatos raised a brow, curious about your endeavors. It wasn't the oddest request he's ever heard, but it had surprised him to ask him at a time like this. Still, he wouldn't dare refuse you, going as far as to carefully remove the white gloves off his right hand.

"As you wish," Barbatos said, a glint of reassurance in his eyes. Whatever you need, he will gladly provide.

Feeling impatient, you grab his wrist in a flash. Your grip around it tight as you felt the back of his hand touching your neck.

"I'll just— ! "

You were in panic mode, heart thumping at an exhilarating face. You felt like you needed space to breathe; space to cool off the burning sensation. Unbearable.

Barbatos' eyes widened upon feeling the heat inhibiting from your skin. Carefully, he moved his hand along your neck. A wave of concern breaking his carefully curated poker face. "My..." he muttered, looking directly in your eyes. "You're burning."

As you were about to speak, Barbatos moved his hand away from your neck to other parts. Both of your cheeks, your forehead, the sides of your head, all back and forth as he whispered murmurs of worry. "Darling, how long have you been feeling this?"

Was it you, or was the room getting hotter? Still, you weren't able to answer the question when you just found out about it earlier. That didn't matter, with how Barbatos grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

"Allow me," Barbatos spoke with a determined look on his face.

"!?"

Shushing you, he lets his other hand cling onto your shoulder. You couldn't help but feel... calm. Looking back at you, Barbatos leaned closer. "Please, my love. Allow me to take care of you."

Do you accept? Father forbids how you then have to deal with the rumors of the all-reserved butler having his hand around your neck while being alone in that classroom. Though, you shan't worry no more, his liege.

There was now a different sense of warmth circling in the pit of your stomach. Sure, the fever was getting a tad worse as it remaind a second too long untreated, but it's... calming. A warmth you sense in your darkest days. That warmth and serenity that he was willing to offer you.

Go rest, he'll eliminate any obstacle to your recovery — just as how you like it.

divider/s by @/cafekitsune | inspiration [jk, I'm alright now :")) ]

[deandoesthingstome]

Heart Wide Open

Pairing: Syverson x Fem!reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: just some talk about sexual situations, a little pining

A/N: There is a lot going on that isn’t Syverson these days, but this just came to me in a haze and I wanted to write it down and send it off to the world. Much like this letter you decided you needed to write to the guy you spent a few weeks with before he shipped out. It was no big deal, right?

Dear Sy,

I hope it’s okay that I'm writing. You said I could if I wanted to. It was weird addressing the envelope (yes, I addressed the envelope before I started this letter; I was nervous. Sue me.) Writing your full name, I mean. You said I could just call you Sy, but I’m doubting the US Army knows how to find you by just Sy. 

Or maybe they do.

Anyway. I was thinking about you the other day, in the oddest place. I mean, it’s not an odd place for me. Just a strange place to be thinking about you. I was at the yoga studio for an evening class. It was one of those “hippy dippy” classes you liked to tease me about. Not the power flow classes that you almost respected, but the slow, stretchy, touchy-feely one with the real quiet voices and everything on the ground.

Anyway. I started thinking about the way your fingers and lips danced over my skin when you had me naked on my back. The way you held the swell of my tits in your hands. The way it felt when you kissed my lips and then my neck, down my chest and onto my belly. The way you didn’t hesitate at all between my legs. I remembered the way it felt every time you sank your hips against mine and pressed into me, rocking with some kind of magic that let you hold on while I let go, over and over again.

I wonder how long this letter is going to take to get to you and where you’ll be when it arrives. Will you be able to read it in privacy? God I hope so. Maybe I should rip this up and start again.

Except I can’t, because I wanted to tell you how I think about what it’ll be like for you when you get this letter. If maybe you’ll be able to stay quiet in your bunk. Or maybe you have a private room somehow. Because I hope that when you read about the way I think about you, you’ll think about me, too. And maybe, while you’re reading this, you’ll need to unbutton your pants while you think about the way I used to take you between my lips. And maybe you’ll try to imagine it’s my hand wrapped around you.

God I hope you weren’t kidding about all those times you shifted me up and over your chest so I could settle right down on your tongue and let you make me scream again while I held onto the headboard. You said you liked doing that and I definitely like having it done, so maybe that’s something you’ll think about. 

God, Sy, I fucking miss you so much. Maybe I’m not supposed to say that this soon. But I do. I know I’m probably not supposed to say a lot of these things in this letter. (Fuck, does the military read your letters like you were in prison? God I hope not!) 

But I just can’t stop myself from telling you how I feel. I held back when you left. I didn’t want to make you nervous. Like you owed me anything. But I really like you, Sy. I never thought I’d say that about someone like you. But you made it so easy to look past our differences and find the things we had in common, even if just for that short amount of time. 

I know it was just a little companionship before you left. I mean, that’s all we said it would be. But I think about you all the fucking time, and I miss you.

I know I’m supposed to keep it light. Talk about the day to day so you can keep a little of home in your head.  Okay, but when I think about telling you about the new restaurant they opened up downtown, all I can imagine is taking you there when you get home. (Yes, fine, I know. Letting you take me there when you get home. Whatever.) I think you’d like it, Sy. It’s pretty all-american food but in a nicer-than-a-bar atmosphere. And I know, there’s nothing wrong with a bar. It is, afterall, where we met. 

But I wondered if the end of the night would turn out the same if you took me home from this restaurant instead of from the bar. If you’d still want to tear my clothes off as soon as we stepped over the threshold and locked the door. If I’d have to remind you to keep it down for the neighbors before I just gave up and joined you, funny looks in the parking lot be damned.

If we’d even make it to the bedroom, or if you’d take me bent over on the couch first, the way you did that first night. I really fucking liked that. Did I tell you that? I’m sure I did, but just in case. Sy. You can fuck me bent over the couch any time you want. 

Shit, there I go again. I should really rip this up and start over. Except you said I could say anything I wanted if I decided to write. Come to think of it, why did you ask me to write? We said we were keeping it light, and I didn’t want to scare you off, but something about the way you asked me to write…Should I have said something sooner? Before you got on that bus?

Fuck. Okay. So I’m supposed to tell you about the everyday. But my everyday was always so much different than your everyday, remember? It was a fluke I was at that bar that night. An out of town friend who had a thing for military guys. We were just out catching up. I figured we’d have a few drinks, she’d find someone to shack up with, and I’d send her on her way with his details on a piece of paper in case she didn’t make it home the next day. 

God I was so uncomfortable there. I couldn’t believe she’d talked me into it. And I was about to turn around and walk out when you walked in. Remember? How could you forget? I crashed right into you. And you apologized even though it was so clearly my fault, and you bought me and my friend a round and sat with us while you waited for your buddies.

I swear, Sy. I had no idea she’d take both of them home that night, leaving you all alone with little old me. But you didn’t care. We closed that bar down. I never do that.  And after you came home with me that night, after you took me on that couch, and then the bed, and later in the shower before you left? You called me. 

God I’m really stupid, aren’t I? Telling you all this like you weren’t there. But in writing this all down, I’m seeing so many signs I must have just willfully ignored. You made time for me, over and over again even though you were getting ready to ship out. Was I that reserved, maybe even a little standoff-ish, that you worried if you came on too strong, I’d run? Is that why you said, “just a bit of fun, okay?” To make it easier for me? 

Hey, when you come back, we should go to dinner. Maybe a movie. I know a great place to go hiking. Sy, I want to spend more time with you. I guess that’s what this letter is all about. And I know I started off talking about how well you fucked me, and I mean that for sure. But I want you to know I really liked our times together even when we weren’t fucking. I liked talking with you about the things we agree and disagree on. I liked seeing you laugh. I loved it when you made me laugh. 

Shit. I think I really fucked this up, Sy. I know I was supposed to keep it light. But I just can’t. I want you to know, so there’s no misunderstanding. I’m waiting for you to come back. I’ll keep an eye on the mail, too. If you write back and tell me I read it all wrong, I mean, it’ll suck, but I’ll respect that. 

But I couldn’t let you go on over there thinking there wasn’t anyone back home thinking about you and wishing you well every night. That yoga class the other day? Her theme was heart openers. Every pose, designed to drop the collarbones away from the chest and open up the space. I guess that’s how I got to thinking about you. During the meditation, she invited us to send love first to ourselves, then to someone we care about, and finally even to someone we don’t particularly care about. 

Taglist: @sillyrabbit81​ @kittenofdoomage​ @raccoon-eyed-rebel​ @mayloma​ @geralts-yenn​ @fvckinghenrycavill​ @kebabgirl67​ @beck07990​ @itsrubberbisquit​ @sweetdreamsofgelato​ @liveoncoffeeandflowersss​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @marantha​ @aireraume​ @angelmather1​ @lizzystuffsthings​ @enchantedbytomandhenry​ @omgkatinka​ @littlefreya​ @avengersfan25​ @thesaucynomad​ @just-chirpin​

But when it was someone I care about, I sent my love to you, Sy. I’m sending it to you now. I’ve got my heart wide open for you. I hope you want it.

Part 2

[bulkyphrase]

Cap-IM Rec Week - Better Together Monday

Welcome to @cap-ironman Rec Week 2024! I've got some fun lists planned for this week, starting with this one, which features some of my favorite fics where, via assorted shenanigans, Steve and Tony are now sharing their thoughts, feelings, or personal space.

So basically, stories where they've been forced together into a magical "We Will Get Along" shirt.

inside my shell-shaped mind by Mizzy (@mizzy2k) (616, Teen And Up Audiences, 18,217 words)

Summary: Before Ikaris of the Eternals died along with the rest of his people, he gave Tony Stark the power of the Uni-Mind, a power Tony used in order to help stop the Horde from destroying the universe. The Magistrati are the Living Tribunal's enforcers of Universal Law. They are the judges, jurors, and advocates of the universe. And Tony’s Uni-Mind ability has been judged too dangerous: he must be put to death. Steve thinks he has a solution. To save Tony's life, he must undergo an intimate version of the Uni-Mind known as the Gann Josin, a type of bonding that creates a mental union between two people...and makes them lifelong soulmates. Well, it's probably not the oddest way to save someone's life, but it's certainly not going to be easy. Especially when Tony seems determined that the bond should be broken, as soon as possible. (Set just after War of the Realms #4.) Also available as a podfic read by Pywren (@phyrrhicvictory)

Machines and Marvels by rainbowninja167 (@rainbowtitania) (MCU, Teen And Up Audiences, 23,443 words)

Summary: "The only future in which you have a hope of defeating Thanos is one where the Avengers remain whole and undivided. Do you understand? No matter what else happens, it’s imperative that the Avengers stay together." “Wait. What the fuck are the Avengers?” Or: In an alternate timeline where the Avengers never formed, Steve and Tony need a crash course in team bonding. Stephen Strange just had to take that literally.

More below the cut!

Breathless by @kandisheek (MCU, Explicit, 36,966 words)

Summary: How do you even start a conversation like that? Hey, sorry, but last night you sort of jerked me off through our bond and now I know the serum makes you shoot off in like two seconds, oops. Wherein Tony can feel everything Steve feels and it makes things very awkward.

made to make you blue by @gottalovev (MCU, Explicit, 26,022 words)

Summary: Steve, drunk for the first time since the serum, hits on Tony. It's everything Tony's ever dreamt about, but he refuses to have sex with a drunk Steve who can't truly consent. They do kiss, though, and Tony stays the night. The morning after brings a misunderstanding of disastrous proportion, where both men wrongly assume the other is uninterested. Life gets extremely complicated when Enchantress, mad at Thor, casts a spell that links people who love each other together, letting them feel the other's pain.

read my mind by orphan_account (MCU, Explicit, 6,691 words)

Summary: A run in with Loki gives Tony the ability to read Steve's thoughts. Unbeknownst to Loki, it actually brings them closer together.

Never Too Late for Love by @sineala (Ults, Explicit, 98,060 words)

Summary: Steve has always believed that a soulbond is a blessing -- a rare and beautiful miracle, joining the thoughts and feelings of two people forever, from the first time they touch. Steve knows he's not going to be one of the lucky ones. He knows Gail isn't his soulmate. But he loves her, even if they're not soulmates, and he's going to do right by her. After the war's over, he's going to marry her, and they're going to settle down. They'll buy a house. They'll have children. He'll see his family again. Maybe Bucky will live next door. It's going to be a good life. He doesn't need a soulbond. He'll be fine without one. Then Steve wakes up sixty years in the future to find that his wonderful life has moved on without him. His family is long dead. His fiancée married his best friend. And the only purpose he has left is leading the Ultimates, a misbegotten team of superheroes with flaws too numerous to count. Steve hates everything about the future -- but most of all he detests Tony, flashy and flirtatious, who embodies everything Steve hates about a world he never wanted to live in. And, oh, yeah, Steve has a soulmate after all: Tony fucking Stark. Also available as a podfic read by Cathalinareads (@cathalinaheart)

one foot in (and one foot back) by kehinki (MCU, Explicit, 32,479 words)

Summary: This isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to Tony, but it's in the top five.

When I Think (Oh, it Terrifies Me) by celli (MCU, Explicit, 8,642 words)

Summary: Look, some mornings you wake up and little green men are invading New York City; some mornings you wake up and you can hear Captain America's voice in your head. Tony has been an Avenger long enough that he saves his freakout for important things. Also available as a podfic read by RsCreighton (@rosecreighton)

A Meeting of Minds by Nix (CrimsonQuills) (616, Explicit, 17,770 words)

Summary: As it turns out, the Extremis hadn't quite finished rewriting Tony's brain. The only potential fix has...consequences.

[jackdelroys]

errmm.... Doctor Fearless x Reader

You accidentally stumble upon his spooky castle when hiking and find the most pathetic and lonely vampire wearing a party city wig living there... what do you do....

sighs. you give him crazy insane good head. what else. anyways here's 1.6k words of just that

warnings; nsfw!!! holy shit. sorry.

YOU weren't sure how you got here, but you managed to. Actually, it was almost amazing how fucking lost you'd gotten, impressive even. How you'd managed to end up so far off-track from your supposedly soul searching hike was a mystery to you, and a dead phone and therefore no gps could attest to that. But hey, maybe the looming, creepy castle in the middle of the woods would offer help, you hoped, or at the least an outlet to plug your charger into. 

You stood at the foot of the staircase leading to the mansion. It towered above you, but maybe it was just the rain making it seem like such a climb. You took the first step cautiously as to not slip, and after successfully making it approximately three stairs in, you found yourself facefirst with the concrete, and minus one healthy ankle. 

You yelped in pain, regretting now not prowling the premises for an outdoor outlet first.

You took a deep breath, pushing yourself up from the ground and hobbling, now drenched, to the front door. You stare at it for quite some time before your clothes become uncomfortably sticky from the rain, heavy and cold and you came to the conclusion that this whole situation sucked. You still hadn’t rang the doorbell. 

I mean, how would you even explain yourself? 

‘Hi, I was creeping around your incredibly off-putting home to hope to siphon some electricity to charge my phone. Unfortunately, it seems like I broke my ankle instead! May I spend the night?’

You settle for knocking. 

The door creaks open soon enough, beyond which you cannot make out much besides a looming darkness. At least it's out of the rain.

You take a cautious step in, and when you do, the distant fireplace lights, casting a low glow over the weathered hall. You follow the rug through the foyer until you're met with a grand staircase, at which point you're finally met with your gracious host, high above you. 

He's awkwardly posed there, one hand on the bannister, the other holding his draped cloak close to himself. But that wasn't the oddest part, no, it was the strange way his matted-down hair was kept slick to his head, bowl-cut and all, terrible uneven bangs included. You dared not laugh at the fangs that hung over his bottom lip, or gothic eye-makeup worthy of a serious MySpace profile picture. He looked like an overgrown fusion of Bunnicula and the Berries and Cream Lad, and it nearly had you in fits until his booming, clichéd voice reverberated off the walls.

“Welcome to my humble abode, dear stranger. Come freely, go safely, etcetera, etcetera. And who might it be that I am so privileged to host this dark, dreary evening?”

You avoid stating your name plainly, eyes shifting around at the strange demeanor. Perhaps this was some kind of weird sex roleplay you stumbled upon. Yeah, that's probably the case, right?

“Well, they call me…Doctor Fearless!”

“...Huh?” your even more puzzled expression almost caught him off guard. He seemed to falter for a moment, but then he was back, cape pulled close around him and head tilted back to look down at you.

“Ah, but what brings such a pretty young thing to my doorstep in the middle of the night, unless it is a death wish?”

Your brow furrows, squinting confused (or was it cautiously?) at him. Your reply was slow, and deliberate.

“I twisted my ankle trying to climb the steps to ask for directions…”

He stares at you, disappointed; Clearly, he wanted you to play along. Oops.

“So, you wish for safe lodging while the storm passes and your injuries heal? Perhaps that can be arranged…for a price,” the thunder conveniently struck at that moment, for dramatic effect you assume. At least someone out there was on his side, because looking over the awful, choppy bangs he wore, it certainly wasn't mother nature and her ugly stick. 

A price? Your heart sunk. Of course there was a ‘yes, but…’ what else could you expect? And what the hell was his price anyways? Though, the way his grin grew, enough for those goofy fucking fangs to poke out and the way he pushed his cloak beyond his shoulders as he descended the stairs to meet you gave you a decent idea.

Whatever. You were way too fucking tired, and in way too much pain for this. And he was far too pathetic and weirdly hot to not fuck, really.

You're on your knees before you know it, grasping at his belt and tearing the buckle free. He sucks in a breath above you, still looking down on you, expression falling dark. Like he's observing some kind of animal...Hot?

You're testing the waters at first, adjusting your kneel so that your ankle isn't fucking screaming at you to please god stop, oh christ, and your palm is finding its center at the crotch of his pants, gently at first but then, at the faintest feeling of twitch you press down harder, grinding your hand against him as he lets out a grunt that sends shivers through the rest of you. 

He's grabbing your wrist soon enough, and shoving down his pants to free his cock -- which to no surprise has already hardened, tip glistening from where his precum’s been smeared across the head in the rush to push aside his underwear. 

He's panting before you even begin, and so when you take your time in spreading your tongue across the underside of his shaft, he's nearly weeping. Agonizingly slowly, you give the same attention to the length of him, more than once until the almost sweet taste of him is dripping onto your lips and he's tossed his head back, one hand easing itself into your hair. 

How was this so exciting?

His mouth falls open, just for a moment, then he's biting down onto his cheek hard with a strangled moan as your own fist around his dick spreads evenly your spit until you're ready to take him now fully into your mouth. You start with the tip, tongue running over his slit with a low groan, for someone so fucking strange, he tasted oddly good, almost as if it was on purpose.

You carefully move down, taking as much of him as you can, which is to say all of him, and steadying yourself before you choke. He curses under his breath, and you almost gag there from laughing, but you compose yourself when he scowls, and jerks the back of your head, shoving your face into his hips where he holds you before pulling back.

You got the idea. 

You're bobbing your head at a leisurely pace for your own comfort, but as you pull far enough back, you're sure to swipe your tongue across the sensitive spot on that underside vein each time. You're rewarded with a grunt and the feeling of him throbbing in your mouth which, all in all, was a fairly decent exchange. Though, after a few minutes, it seems to catch up to him, especially when he steals glances at the way you're rubbing your own thighs together, fingernails digging into the back of his legs and happily working his cock with your mouth. He takes your face and forces you down, faster, harder. 

It's then he's realized he hasn't a clue what to call you, which makes for quite the awkward interjection, hands on either side of your head pulling you back just enough to meet your eyes, and you somehow manage to spit a rather garbled, muffled version of your name. He gets the gist, and quickly shoves you back down onto his dick, narrowly avoiding the worst of your gag reflex as he pants a butchered version of your name, at least. 

Your throat’s quickly getting sore, and with a few whines if your own, and some particularly sinful noises he's properly fucking your face -- having forgotten completely about that friendly, goofy demeanor clearly chasing his own end, punctuating each movement with some sort of expletive, and you're almost worried for a minute he's one thrust from a “gee whillickers!” until he pulls at your hair again, harshly now. Your face is buried into the cold, bony frame of his abdomen as deep as he can go as he finally cums, warm and thick down your throat without hesitation. The moan he lets out is absolutely fucking delicious (much like everything else, if not a bit salty), and he breathes your name alongside a string of curses.

“Fuck,” he gasps one last time, finally releasing your hair. He sounds…normal. No faux accent. Just human.

You look up at the voice, hand now frozen from wiping the corner of your mouth.

“...What the fuck?”

“You know, I was just going to ask to split takeout if you wanted dinner, but shit.”

His chest was still heaving, and you only now noticed that at some point, the plastic fangs he'd been wearing were taken off, and the wig had fallen to the wayside, enough for him to rip the thing off and toss it to the floor adjacent to you both. Save for the awful makeup, he looked…strangely normal. And in a way, a little less attractive like this. But still very attractive, you correct yourself. 

“...Fearless?”

“Dwight,” he breathes, “It's fucking -- Dwight. Jesus.”

You nod, knees sore as you stand again, with his help. He's rushing to shove himself back into his pants, nearly tripping on the belt still dangling to the floor as he motions behind himself for you to follow; He's leading you further into the castle now, presumably towards your room for the night, giving you support for your still aching ankle.

Smallest price you've had to pay for an overnight stay, honestly.

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

DC

my dearly departed by redrobin1989

Kon heard the stories about how Tim had fallen apart after he died. He couldn’t imagine what Tim had gone through, what he’d been feeling. Even now, with the shoe now on the other foot, Conner doesn’t know how to cope. Especially when he needs to keep his boyfriend’s collapsing family together.

Exit Strategy by smilebackwards

Batman needs a Robin and Batman has a Robin. Tim is just extraneous now, vestigial. He’s a bandage over a healed wound. He doesn’t know what he’s hanging on to.

Or: Tim didn’t expect his exit strategy from the Batfamily to involve quite so much bonding time with Damian over Wayne Enterprises bureaucracy.

the capillaries in my eyes are bursting by Scarlet_Ribbons

Bruce grunts, standing up. “Jenkins said the same. What about what you weren’t told?”

And without dissembling, Jason says, “I think they fucked that kid up, B.”

[Jack and Janet die. As things get weirder and weirder, it feels like Tim might be at the center of the unfolding conspiracy.]

Stranger Things

and i know that you don’t, but if i ask you if you love me— by fakecharliebrown

Once, only a few weeks before his parents decide he’s too old to be tucked into bed at night, Steve grabs his mother by the wrist and asks, “Does Father love me?”

“Of course he does,” she says immediately, smoothing the blanket where it rests over his chest.

Steve blinks up at her. “Then how come he never says it?”

She purses her lips. “He shouldn’t have to, sweetheart. You should just know.”

(It isn’t until years down the line that Steve realizes she’d somehow turned that into being his fault.)

or; Steve Harrington through the years, on loving and being loved.

Percy Jackson

percy jackson and the scrutiny of his coworkers by pqrker

Jim turned back to the tank and looked at Marcie the seal, who was now staring at the spot his coworker had been standing just moments before with that same strange look of reverence in her eyes.

Percy Jackson truly was the oddest person Jim Elpool had ever worked with.

Or: 5 times percy's coworkers were confounded by his fish magic, plus 1 time they try to figure it out.

Star Wars

Bounty by smilebackwards

"You took a puck for Luke Skywalker?”

Din looks up at the tenseness in Cara’s voice.

“Yes?” The puck for Skywalker had been passed over by half a dozen hunters, surprising considering the price on his head, but Din had assumed that was because his last known location was Coruscant. The Core is a dangerous place to hunt bounties.

“If I didn’t consider you a friend,” Cara says, with a tone that sounds like she’s reconsidering it, “I’d shoot you where you stand for admitting that."

SVSSS

What Is Seen by CaveteDracones

....is not [always] the real truth.

Truth-compelling artifacts in the hands of an enemy to one side, SYSTEM-mandated silence on the other, and Shen Qingqiu caught between the two. Is it too late to go back to the Water Prison?

and judgment is just like a cup that we share by Kieron_ODuibhir

The blob finished rotating into place in a way that wasn’t quite compatible with geometry as Shen Qingqiu understood it, and cleared a throat it didn’t seem to have.

“Greetings,” it said, somehow clearly addressing him in particular more than the room as a whole despite its total lack of features other than blueness and translucency. “I’m here on behalf of the Hyper-Celestial Peace and Order Enforcement Bureau. Crime scene secure, proceeding to interviews. Beginning with Subject One: You are Shen Qingqiu, formerly Shen Yuan, also known as Peerless Cucumber?"

[smuttyfang]

Johnny Silverhand, Seeing His Daughter

"If I can make a request for Johnny Silverhand x reader johnny while still being stuck in V finds out that His girlfriend had his daughter and he wants to see them so V takes him."

Words: 1,369

"Are you really sure about this?" You were feeling the tension and how nervous Johnny was. No words had to be spoken for you to feel each others emotions. His form materialized against the outside of the building, right beside of the entrance. It was in a nice area of Japantown.

"I need to see her. I didn't know I.. had a fucking kid. How was I supposed to know? I have to see her." He materialized again beside of you, looking up at the huge skyscraper. "Nice place.."

"Seems like she must live in a condo. Alt.. Well, Alt's current form, said she lived at the top." Johnny was visibly nervous, and wasn't doing a very good job of hiding it.

"Why didn't she tell me before she died? I could have found her, could have.." You wanted to chuckle at him, but you both knew that never would have happened. It almost made you feel sorry for him.

"Been a father?" You said, almost sad. There's no way he would have been a good father for her in his past, considering what his goals were back then. Not to mention his lifestyle.

"A shitty one, probably.. but I could have been one." His reaction made you feel even worse for him. He knew he wouldn't have made for a good father, even if he wanted to be one. He knew it too.

"Listen.." You crossed your arms. "I'll come up with a lie. I'll say that I knew her father for quite some time, long time ago. Before you decide if you want me to tell her who you really are. If you do, I'll tell her about you. If not, I'll paint a picture that she had a decent man as her father and give her some kind of closure. Without the gory details of your past." He thought for a good long while. Long enough for you to pull out a cigarette and take a few puffs. You knew that you smoking would also help him think, subconciously, in some strange way.

"Alright. I'll let you know what I'm thinkin'. Let's go." He disappeared. Entering the building, you realized this place was fancy, much too rich for your blood. She must make a pretty decent living. You stepped into the elevator, heading for the top floor. You could feel the complete fear coming from Johnny, even though he had no words to say in the moment. It was the oddest thing, thinking of Johnny Silverhand of all people being speechless. Once the elevator stopped, the doors opened into a small hallway, leading to the main door of the condo. You walked to it, lightly tapping on the door. You could hear the click of heels on the hardwood floor. Opening the door, she raised her eyebrow at you.

"Hi.. Can I help you?" The resembelance to Johnny was uncanny. She had the same jet black hair, dark eyes, the same slender face and cheekbones. She was wearing a dress, but you could see some colorful tattoos on her neck that trailed down her chest. She had some cybernetics on her face around her eyes, but not much else that you could see. She didn't look much like Alt, from what you have seen of her.

"Yeah, hey.. This might sound really strange to you, but do you know who your father is?" She scoffed at you.

"No, I don't, nor do I care to. Goodbye." She started to close the door on you, but you stopped her. She clearly had her father's attitude. Was she anything like Alt?

"Just- please wait. I knew him." She stopped for a moment, gulping.

"Knew?" You nodded. "I see.. You can come in I suppose." She opened the door, allowing you inside. Her condo was just as expensive looking as the rest of the building. It almost looked as though nobody actually lived there. Everything was spotless. She led you to her living room. A huge open window led outside to a pool on her patio. It was all complimented by a huge fully stocked bar, with plenty of vintage wines. "What can I get you to drink?"

"Nothin' fancy, just some vodka." She poured a glass for you, and poured some wine for herself. She brought the glass back to you, and motioned for you to sit down on the couch. You did so, before hearing Johnny in your head.

"She's nothin' like me." He appeared beside you on the couch, leaning back casually. He was probably in denial. You spoke back to him, in your own thoughts.

"She is just like you. Just maybe with much better circumstances in life." He huffed at you, knowing you were right. You turned your attention back to Johnny's daughter. "Thanks for the drink." You took a sip.

"Welcome. So.. you knew my father? I assume he is long dead by now." She takes a big gulp of her wine. She doesn't seem to feel entirely comfortable talking about it, but she needed to know.

"Yeah.. he is. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Didn't know him." She shrugged her shoulders. "Hard for me to feel attached."

"I know, but he wished he could have met you. He would, if he were still here." Johnny still stayed silent.

"What makes you so sure? He's not here to tell you that." Hardheaded. Not surprising.

"He and I were close. I just know he would." Leaning forward, you rested your elbows on your knees. "I thought I would come here to tell you about him, if you wanted to know. But I'm also here to learn a little about you. He wanted someone to know." She sighed, finishing her glass.

"I need more wine for this." She went to the bar, getting more drinks. Time went on in your conversation, and more drinks were swallowed down. She told you that she was living nicely because she had a very high paying job working on cyber security systems. She freelanced and managed herself, choosing who she worked for. She told you that she knew who to stay away from, including Arosaka. "Dangerous, dangerous people." She shook her head. "I'm not saying they deserved to be blown up but.. it was hard to feel bad for them when I learned about it." Johnny laughed.

"Nevermind. She really must be my daughter."

"She's also like Alt in one way. She's too smart for her own good, sounds like." Your head began to feel somewhat fuzzy, so you only halfway finished your last drink. "You're a lot like your dad."

"Am I? I guess it's possible." She stood up, walking to the window to look out at the city. "I never wanted children. Would he have wanted grandchildren too, I wonder?" Johnny didn't have a response.

"I'm not sure. He only wanted to know you. I know even though he's not here, he would have been proud of you for how successful you've become. Also for making better choices than he did."

"Better choices, huh..?" She hummed. "What was he like?" She turned to you. It was time for Johnny to make a choice. You looked in his direction. He sighed and shook his head.

"Don't tell her who I was.. my name. She's too good a kid. She deserves a good dad. To think she had a good dad." You stood up, walking over to her. You put your hand on her shoulder.

"Your dad was, most times, a stubborn, hateful jackass who made a lot of mistakes and bad choices in his life." She looked to the floor. "But he wanted to atone for his mistakes in the end, especially with not being in your life. He would have loved you. I know he would."

"I'm.. glad to know that he would have." She crossed her arms. Johnny suddenly stood up, then materialized at the door.

"Alright, that's enough.. I don't want her to know what kind of person her dad really is. Let's go, before she finds out. Please." In meeting his daughter, he suddenly was hit with all the shame and guilt from his actions in the past. All at once. "I'm such an idiot."

Link to the original post on AO3.

[sleepynegress]

On Challengers...

Okay.

So, here's the thing. It's decent.

It's sassy, catfighty, but with dudes using rackets and tongue-wrestling, and the tennis scenes are tense, but... it wasn't at all confidently scandalous like I would've expected.

....Like I feel like they didn't push it far enough, somehow? And not even in the way you might think, with dicks a-swingin and thrusts abundant. Remember, the movie Closer? -I think that came out in 2007ish and was rated PG-13??? Or could have been if not for the language.

Natalie Portman has a similar nudity clause to her contract and *STILL* had the absolute sexiest scene with Clive Owen.... .....Which I'll put in this post to demonstrate what I mean. This felt like it held back at moments... When it came to pushing desire, between the men and/or with Zendaya, with one or the other. It just felt so tame to me given the hype. I was hoping for a return to artistic sensuality in film again, instead of this weird sort of by-rote-feeling purity culture we're having rn. (I'm watching Love Lies Bleeding tonight and I BET that delivers. Lesbians, salude!) I was hoping for Cruel Intentions' lush cut with The Dreamers' sensuality..if that makes sense?? AND some good-good tennis. THAT did deliver. WOW, some of the shots for that were eye-popping. A critic I follow noted that her issue (she always has the best takes I don't agree with all of them but they are always well-articulated) was that Zendaya was not fleshed out as a central figure, especially as a BLACK WOMAN. It was yet again another case of a Black woman dropped down from the moon coming from no people of her own, but just somehow existing in a sea of white people with not a hint of Black friends or loved ones.

Hell, they could've even laid out *her people* like the brilliantly underrated Beyond The Lights with Minnie Driver playing the stage manager mom to Gugu Mbatha Raw's biracial pop star. But that comes down to the white male gaze fucking it up, yet again. I looked up the screenwriter and just kind of nodded knowingly with an 'oh, yeah that's what I expected, that explains it...' He simply didn't have the range beyond a sort of vague tennis fetish for brown girls in short skirts grunting and swinging and wanting to do something with that. He admitted that Naomi and another Black woman player's interaction on the court *inspired* this...

Perception of Black women doing ANYTHING can be so heavy with a weirdly asexual gaze from white women and hyper-sexualized by white men. And if desire/centering tips in the "wrong" direction deemed by prejudice and our assumed place....*yeesh* we catch hell. You're either bafflingly too ugly to be treated with desire (whew the incel bigots are big mad that it's Zendaya and not a Sweeney-type) or only deemed good enough for it, because of that white gaze. And resented regardless.

*sigh* Can't win for losing. But I digress. Zendaya's co-stars are the oddest looking mystical-dwarf-head ass forest creature white boys with big ears, but they GAVE in the acting department. Mike Faist is a STAR. He has a sort of laidback sweetly confident rizz. But he definitely is the lovechild of a young Scott Glenn and DJ Qualls. I want to put him in a western immediately because he has Civil War photo face.

Mike O'Connor has that desperate dirty hairy scruffy thing like dude from The Bear. Like you KNOW he has a scratch tat somewhere and would do the dirty with his partner in the toilet stalls or anywhere else. Hollyweird is strange about beauty standards man. Back in the day, they used to pretend old white men, who looked like they smelled like Barbasol mixed w/ urine would somehow be sexy to a twentysomething. Now, we have this dichotomy of thankfully a little more of a diverse gaze for the centered "bombshell" other than blonde with large breasts number 32637263872.... but we also have some actresses cutting fat out their cheeks and being Ozempic thin. *sigh* ...While the "basic" hot boys are punching the air rn because they are also passé. Got to have something interesting going on in the face for everyone now, I think. Can't just be AI "pretty" anymore. Thankfully.

....Anyway. It is good, but with those caveats I laid out.

P.S. ICONIC for me is seeing Zendaya's Black-ass nose bridge drawn large on that poster. P.P.S Thank LUCA for doing the queer elements well... I personally don't think it went far enough, tho...

Mike bottoming for all, including getting pegged by Zendaya would've happened in my version of this... at least implied, come on (ficwriters?) Oh! and here are the clips from Closer, but then it was a successful play first, so the script is more substantial in that.

This is how filthy I expected Challengers to be, and it's just. not. Nothing in The Challengers touches the heavy heady nastiness in this scene IMO, but something in that movie should have, dammit! Note they never even touch each other.

[kaisazen]

you call it love, i call it insomnia

SYPNOSIS. In which a specific harbinger keeps coming into your diner at the oddest times because of his weird job, to your surprise, things don't go very well when a tired snezhnayan man shamelessly flirts with someone he's barely met before.

THEME.

AU: Canon Universe (Genshin)

Character Ship: Tartaglia x Gn!Reader

Prompt: "you come into my 24hour diner at the oddest times bc of your weird job but you keep forgetting that we talk because you're always sleep deprived"

Content: Flirting!!!, mentions of sex/intercourse, two flirty insomniac idiots being questionable.

"Well look who the cat dragged in", you murmured as a tired looking man entered the store with his head hung low.

He does a double take to make sure his eyes were seeing things right, and they were. It was you, working on the same time he came. He released a relieved sigh, and made his way to the counter.

"I'll have a cup of coffee, no milk, and no sugar." He looks back at you with a dazed expression that didn't make his tiredness obvious.

"Would that be all?"

"Actually, I want to add an extra. I wanna get the charming and cute worker here that's working hard to serve me during these ungodly hours." The man said as he rested his arm on the counter, his face staring awfully close to yours.

You roll your eyes as you move his resting arm away from the counter that reflected the fluorescent lights. Of course, you weren't a stranger to weirdos like him. There were a lot of people ranging from hobos to potential criminals that you'd encounter during your midnight shifts.

"I see you're not the type to converse"

"I pay no heed to weirdos like you that go into my diner at ungodly hours. And oh my archons, you even think that's attractive." You lay his coffee cup infront of him with utter caution though you'd rather spill the hot substance onto his face at any given moment.

"I just wanted to find a way to talk to you"

"Well that's awfully direct. I go by the name of (Name)".

The man smirks and helds out a hand for you. "You can call me Tartaglia, though most people call me Childe. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, fellow insomniac."

And after that first night of name exchange, Childe kept coming for the next consecutive nights. You found it awfully strange of how you have never seen him in Liyue before. But you get to see the flirty outlander whenever night hits and people no longer open those doors except for him. You just wonder what his job in Liyue might be.

"Hey (Name), aren't you at least curious for what my occupation in Liyue might be?"

You put down the glass that you were wiping dry, only to be met by drunken eyes that were starting to shape like hearts if you squint enough.

"No, as a matter of fact. I don't think I need to stick my nose that far out of people's lives."

You can see from the corner of your eye at the slight twitch of his lip, insisting on showing his smirk.

"How would you feel if I told you that I'm feared by nations and recognized as part of the most powerful organizations in Teyvat?"

"And how would you feel if I told you that you're looking like I could totally fuck you right now?" You murmur jokingly but you made it audible enough for him to hear.

Perhaps you did mean it. Was it the smell of chemical alcohol getting to your head? Or was it the number of times this man had been visiting the place, always wondering how his sultry voice finds its way into your own heart?

"Oh, so you're saying you wanna fuck with one of the Fatui Harbingers?"

"Even better. So stop coming to my diner when you can go to my place instead."

You cut of his lustful trance with a smack of a card right between his dazed eyes. The card had your home address and with your contact number.

"What was that for?!"

"That's what you call seduction. Not bad for a mere diner owner that now knows how to woo a Harbinger, no?".

After that night, you didn't know whether Childe was only bluffing about him being part of the Harbingers or if he was actually dead-ass serious.

[anrisimps]

Krs whump

Krs's uncle who got recruited by the hunters was tasked with the job of keeping the anomaly (krs) under control so that he doesn't get in their way in the future as Cale and they rather want him to be subservient to them.  

This krs ran away from his uncle when he had had enough of his uncle and his abuse ( lies, he was just scared that he was going to die that day. His uncle came smelling of alcohol that day and the man being drunk never meant good for krs. The child flinched when the keys jingled outside of the door, trying to find the keyhole- no doubt fumbling bcoz he was drunk and then there was angry yelling and it terrified krs. He had an inkling that if he hadn't run away that day, he wouldn't be here drinking with his hyungs)  and was living his best life with his team. The monsters still attacked everyone and the world was thrown into chaos but he was the happiest he had ever been. 

One night, there was a knock on his door. Usually krs wasn't one to open the door at night but he was used to cjs coming at his house at the oddest time and he ended up opening the door on autopilot, still half asleep.  His hand froze on the doorknob when he found him standing in front of his door instead of cjs. His heart seemed to drop to his stomach and all he could do was stare blankly, hiding his trembling hand behind himself while his uncle stared down maliciously at him. 

For a split second he contemplated running back inside, to call his team leader nim, cjs or anyone really- anyone who could save him from this monster but his legs refused to move. It was as if his muscles had been locked into place and all he could do was stand there like a lamb ready to be slaughtered. 

He was quick. It didn't take long for deft fingers to clench around his neck. He crowded krs against the wall, whispering how fragile his neck looked, how easy it would be to snap it in two, how funny it would be to see krs choking to death. He seemed extremely amused with the way krs trembled yet his face remained as expressionless as ever.

That brought a strange, hungry gleam in his uncle's eyes and he realized he had managed to doom himself yet again. He was barely given any time to process anything when his uncle lugged him out of the door, leaving it open for anyone to raid his house or just too unbothered to close it. Krs doesn't know how he didnt realize his uncle awakened. He was sure that the man had died in the cataclysm. 

"Are you saddened to find your uncle alive, Rok Soo-yah?" fingers grabbed his face harshly, forcing him to face the older man. He remained quiet. He knew all too well that the man didn't like him talking. 

Slap!

"Answer me. Answer your uncle Rok Soo- yah" His hair was being pulled after that but krs felt too dazed to register the pain slowly spreading all over his scalp. 

"You have grown too cocky after being left alone for so long. Clearly you need to be reminded of your place-"

Krs stopped listening. He knew he was fucked. He could see the moonlight glinting off the knife his uncle had hidden in the car. If he dared to anger the man any further, he might end up getting stabbed. Will he finally be dead for good? Would his hyungs mourn him if he died? Would anyone care? 

After all, why should anyone care for an emotionless bastard like him? It didn't matter if he lived or died. He didn't have any useful abilities either except his slightly sharper memory. Their company won't waste their precious resources in trying to rescue him. Perhaps, in another life, if he hadn't been so useless, would he have been rescued? 

That was the last thought krs had before he was knocked out and thrown into the basement of an abandoned house.

—-----

Drip

Drip

Water continuously dripped from the roof. The pipeline seemed to be broken. The sound was driving him insane but that was also the only thing keeping his sanity in check. Without it, there was nothing to distract him from his injuries and the dull ache in his muscles. Everything had turned numb. This was a lot better than the deafening silence he had grown used to for the past few days? weeks?- at the very least. 

Ah, look at him being hypocritical now. How often did he tell cjs to shut up because he was noisy? Why did he crave this silence back then? 

Cough-!!

Krs coughed out a large chunk of blood. His chest heaved up and down as he struggled to breathe, each movement sending sharp bouts of pain across his body. One of his ribs seemed to be broken too. Countless other bruises throbbed but he couldn't feel anything except a dull ache- his body too numb, too broken to register the pain. Has he always been like this? He couldn't seem to remember how he dealt with the aftermath of his uncle's drinking habit. 

Few weeks ago, he wouldn't have even remembered his uncle but after spending all this time in the basement with him had refreshed his memories. When he was being tortured, he chose to retreat into his mind, far away from the monster who called himself his uncle but after some days, that became useless too. Memories from his childhood, starring his uncle plagued his mind and he found no respite. It had become a cycle. 

His uncle would come and play with him. 

Krs would retreat within the recesses of his mind. 

His uncle would continue to torture both his body and mind and then leave him to stew in his nightmares. 

He would get a few scraps of food so that he doesn't die so easily.

Later, the entire night was spent toeing the line between consciousness and unconsciousness. 

And then repeat. 

This had become his life ever since his uncle kidnapped him. He didn't know what the man did with his body when he wasn't mentally present here but it seemed his unresponsiveness had particularly angered the man last night. The whip marks down his back smarted as he tried to shift, to relieve some pressure of his broken legs but that just ended up opening other wounds. 

His memory was blurry but he remembered his uncle promising something "special" for the next time and the thought turned his heart to stone. What more could he possibly do? What hadn't he already done to krs? Krs felt that the man would be disappointed again tomorrow for krs was already broken, there was nothing more to break anymore and his uncle was on a failed mission if he wanted to get a response out of him. 

With that thought, he drifted off to a restless sleep.

–

Contrary to his beliefs, his uncle didn't bring anything special to torture him with. Krs had barely glanced at him for a moment before quickly putting his head down- unwilling to gaze at the revolting man. He was sure he could take it. No new instruments meant he would use the old ones and krs was dearly familiar with them already. What could possibly go wrong? 

"Did you ever think how I got my hands on you?" his uncle asked lightly, as if they were taking a walk in the park. 

Drip

"Do you wonder why no one came for you?"

Drip

"Oh? You already seem to know how worthless you are. Interesting"

Krs flinched at the response and lifted up his head to glare at the man and promptly froze. Wha- what was this?

Lsh's face smiled condescendingly down at him. 

"My, this expression looks good on you, nephew" 

Krs's pupil shook as he stared at the man in front of him. Hyung? His hyung was here? Why was he smiling like that? Why wasn't he rescuing krs? Did he want to hurt him too? 

The man smiled again and krs flinched. It wasn't his hyung. It couldn't be his hyung. He had never seen such a disgusting expression on his hyung's face and knew it wasn't him. And he still sounded like his despicable uncle. 

His uncle frowned when krs's eyes cleared up and he clicked his tongue in annoyance. 

"Tsk, I forgot about the voice." 

And surely, the next time he spoke, it sounded exactly the same as his hyung.  

Krs's mind grew chaotic as his hyung's husky voice washed over him. He trembled when the man came close and caressed his cheek- the same way like he always had. The only difference was that krs wasn't usually tied up and bleeding from 10 different places while lsh stared at him in equal parts fascination and disgust. 

Horror crept up his spine and ice flooded his veins when he realized his uncle's schemes. He was unable to tear his gaze away as the repulsive man wearing his hyung's face came closer and closer, whispering about how he was going to ruin krs, how he would have krs begging for death soon, how dare krs live when he ruined so many lives just by existing. 

Krs would have ignored him, as usual, but he couldnt ignore his hyung. He couldnt ignore the warm voice which would usually be laced with exasperation as his hyung tried to scold him and cjs for their latest shenanigans. He could hardly take his eyes off hyung. 

The eyes which used to look at him with so much love, so much adoration held so much contempt, disgust for him that it shocked him into stillness. He wasnt used to those warm, gentle eyes gazing at him like that. He wasnt used to his hyung gazing at him like that.

Krs wondered how could a person feel so different when they had the same face. Everything was same, yet so different. Lsh's usually reliable figure and gentle demeanour didnt feel safe or reassuring at all today. With every step he took, krs felt a closer to death. 

With a icy chill, krs realized that he isnt going to come out unscathed or alive when his hyung uncle was done with him today. 

[shinobicyrus]

Old Bad Movies I Enjoyed Recently (And So Can You!)

TUFF TURF (1985) I am torn about Tuff Turf, because this short movie is confused in tone, bouncing between badly written romance, teen shenanigans like crashing the buffet tables of country clubs, rad rock concerts, and...oh... intimate partner violence and attempted murder. James Spader is a bicycle vigilante rocker who gets on the bad side of his new school's local bully/gang leader. Things do not improve when Spader also decides that he simply must charm said gang leader's girlfriend. What tension!

Honestly, the only reason this movie sticks with me is the presence of a young Robert Downey Jr, who is, I apologize to say, fucking hot. He plays the drums at a rock concert shirtless using handcuffs as belts for his leather pants. Look it up. Rather than the main romance, the more interesting chemistry is the friendship of RDJ's and Spader's characters (insert Ultron fanfic joke here), which borders on the intensely homoerotic. Really, Tuff Turf makes me yearn for a more interesting film that would have removed the "fighting over a girl" element of the story and just had RDJ and Spader as rad rocker/vigilante boyfriends partners.

IRON EAGLE (1986) This movie about fighter jets actually predates Top Gun by a few months - only instead of Tom Cruise and very heterosexual volleyball matches it's about a group of military brats living on a US Military base. The main character's dad is a pilot who was shot down over a non-specific (but definitely evil) Middle Eastern country, but since the mean adults don't want to do anything, it's up to the kids to steal an F-16 fighter jet and rescue him! This film is only the Purest 80s Reagan Americana where you get to see classic Teen Movie shenanigans evolve into "and then the main character committed war crimes."

A ridiculous, awful film. Did this movie change my life? Possibly.

AMERICA 3000 (1986) A strange, weird, absurd film set in the post apocalypse, where nuclear war has set humans back to the stone age and Amazon women rule over (mostly) intellectually inferior men. My friends and I couldn't decide whether the slang they invented and used copiously in this film was annoying or not. Hilariously, it being in the 80s, the dumbest thing about this whole film is that despite the tyrannical Amazons hating men and only reluctantly using them for breeding, this film also stubbornly refuses to acknowledge even a hint of the existence of homosexuality. Which is probably a blessing, to be honest.

I found it tolerably bizarre enough to watch. Once. Your results may vary.

HACKERS (1995) We now jump into the 90s, and have you heard of these new-fangled things called computers? Standing out as one of Angelie Jolie's earliest movies and a real breakout role for her (it's also where she meets her future ex-husband, Johnny Lee Miller - who most people on this site will recognize as Sherlock Holmes in Elementary). The movie is essentially about a group of high-school hackers with ridiculous handles who run afoul of a corporate conspiracy, are framed, and must dodge the Secret Service while trying to clear their names. But the plot doesn't really matter all that much. What makes this movie shine is the dialogue, the characters, the costumes, and the✨ vibes ✨. This movie is a cult classic for a reason, and the queer coding of all the hackers is undeniable to a modern audience.

It's not a good movie, but its imperfections are what make it so strange, hilarious, and unique. I felt the oddest sense of nostalgia watching this movie, despite the fact that the bizarre pseudo-futuristic world it depicts never actually existed. It made such an impression that I instantly acquired a physical copy of Hackers after my first viewing of it. Hack the Planet!

Space Truckers (1996) To round us off we have Dennis Hopper starring in this film with surprisingly good production values (for the time) failing utterly at everything it attempts to do. Ostensibly about down-to-earth (ha) blue collar space truckers just trying to make an honest living hauling goods across a solar system being increasingly corporatized and hostile to independent workers.

Throw in an evil corporation, space pirates, and a plot to overthrow earth's government with night-unstoppable killer robots, and you have all the elements for what could be a decent movie, but none of them really mesh and are soured by some pretty uncomfortable "romance" elements that have not aged well.

It's a movie that fails in so many ways, but it is at least interesting in its attempt. The people who made Space Truckers took a risk, and in this age of constant sequels and reboots even a failure like this feels...refreshing.

[willowmckinley]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

@love-leah said it was a tag for anyone who wanted to join, and I did!

1. How many works do you have on ao3? 46! 34 for of which are for Justified-- that's 74%!

2. What's your total ao3 word count? 364,850... oh my god... girl... that's too many... I blame Justified completely... it's the brain worms........

3. What fandoms do you write for? Justified! I mean. Yeah. I also wrote for Succession and The Last of Us. I want to write more for The Last of Us, to be honest. I should do that, after I write my fic for @skelingtonsderek and my bingo board and and that other bingo board and..........

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 1) Falling in Love with Every You I Meet (The Last of Us), 2) Sweet as Honey, Sweet as Pie (The Last of Us), 3) Before Rome Burns (Succession), 4) Hotboxing Sex Smells (Succession), and 5) Like a Sleepy Blue Ocean (The Last of Us). I'm not surprised three of the five are The Last of Us, while the other 2 are Succession! My top five fics by Kudos for only Justified are 1) The Opposite of, 2) swiped the fire in you for myself, 3) The Raylan to English Dictionary: Translation Notes Included, 4) Two Drakes in a Pond, and 5) The Body of the Beast

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes! Every time, as long as they aren't rude, in which case I delete them. I just love reading what people say on my fic and answering and talking about the thing I love so much! I love this thing! I get to talk *more* about thing!? For free!?

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don't write a lot of angst! If anything, I write a lot more bittersweet. I think if I had to answer, I would say Like an Incendiary Device. While the ending is more bittersweet for Zach, who has his whole life ahead of him, who has his mom and best friend, who gets to move on, Raylan's ending is still so fucking devastating. Boyd is still gone. He has irrevocably ruined something for his daughter. He is still not processing his grief and still not confronting his life. I'm so fucking sad for him, even after writing him hurting the people he loves most in this one.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I think I'd have to say The Opposite of. This is a Raylan and Boyd who have had 20+ years of working their horseshit out and having each other and making each other better and worse in turn in the oddest of ways. Nothing is ever really "resolved" since it's so difficult to really get over deeply ingrained insecurities, but it's a Raylan and Boyd who have each other to see it through them. I think it's happy to have someone who makes you happy, even when you're making each other the most annoyed you have ever been and will ever be in your life.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Ohhhh my god, no, but I did have one really weird commenter who said awful shit about the pairing I wrote for and then went a condescending, several paragraph long rant about how i personally am the reason their rare pair naruto fics don't get any comments and i just. blocked them.

9. Do you write smut? Yee :P Also, thank you bingo boards for my life, I write so much better now, fr fr.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Yessssss :D I've written a few! Justifed x Over the Garden Wall, Justifed x Howl's Moving Castle, Justified x Cabin in the Woods. I'll give special mention to my Justified x Stardew Valley fic, It's Strange, but the Taste Reminds You of Vanilla Ice Cream

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? No, thank GOD. The person I'd become....

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? No, but anyone is welcome to, as long as they credit me!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but @gaylanrivens invited me as a co-author for their series watch a few movies, take a few notes after allowing me to play in their sandbox :D

14. What's your all-time favorite ship? All time? All time, all time? How am I to choose??? I have RaylanBoyd, which I'm most obsessed with at the moment, but It's impossible to pick anything for all time.

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? Probably.... teeth fic? Man, I've written and rewritten and edited teeth fic over and over again. It started as its own fic, and then I tried reworking it for masqball, and then a bingo... It's got a lot of fun conceptual elements (*chanting* teeth teeth teeth teeth teeth!), but I started it before I really decided how I see Raylan, and now the characterization for him just doesn't make the fic seem feasible anymore

16. What are your writing strengths? I'm... not sure? I mean, I know I have some, but I feel on the spot. Um. I think, writing captivating and dark and intriguing romance? Can I say that? Does that make sense? Maybe??? Imagery????????

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I've answered this one before, in other asks!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I can't speak much more than English, so I'm not writing in multiple languages. I might have it translated to English and then in italics to signify other languages. When I write for anime/manga or Chinese/Korean novels/comics, I try to match the, how do you put it, sentence structure? It was once said that a good translation doesn't sound like it was always in English, but it gives you a better idea of how another language flows. I try to match that.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Naruto when I was like. Ten. I shipped Naruto with Hinata, because I hadn't realized she was a lesbian yet.

20. Favorite fic you've written? Noooo, how could you ask me that!? Um, Cherry Compote! What's not to like about cannibalism and Stockholm syndrome!?

I'm tagging a bunch of people, but no one feel pressured, and if I missed you, I am adding you mentally: @itookyoudown, @skelingtonsderek, @dyinglikeastar, @gaylanrivens, @cheerupghost, @wildglitterwolf, @sublightsleeper, @empathieves

[tharkilm]

if i may, can i give lilac, charm and nightmare a beanbag that looks like them.

i just think its neat.

Lilac: He’ll stare at the beanbag, then back at you, then back at the beanbag. Well, this is… This is going to make him snort, which will then result in him snickering like a madman before ending up in him clutching his none-existing stomach as he laughs uncontrollably. Fucking hell, this is the most hilarious gift he’s received in ever so long. He’ll definitely plop down onto it whilst grinning widely. He loves it.

Charm: That is simultaneously the cutest and funniest thing you’ve ever done to him; this month. Aww, sugar, he loves it so much! Did you make it yourself? Did you sneak a picture of him to use as a reference? How did you do this without him knowing anything at all? He’s bombarding you with questions whilst also squishing the beanbag with his hands, almost resembling a cat making biscuits whilst doing so. He adores this gift.

Nightmare: This… this is different. You have an affinity for finding or making strange gifts for him, but this one must be the oddest of them all. Having his own stern face looking back at him in beanbag form is truly something. He can feel the sting of your pride and happiness from making it, though a delicious taste of anxiety is steadily building up from his lack of response. He’ll let it marinate for a few more seconds, but he’ll give eventually give you his honest response. He’s flattered you spent so much time on creating something like this, though he can’t see himself ever using it. You’re free to bring it into his office when you want to spend time with him, though. He thinks it’s somewhat endearing.

[erabundus]

@mmriesoftvat &&. said... [txt ; kami] so uh [txt ; kami] have you ever had a 2ton paperweight get crushed by another 2ton paperweight while sitting in it [txt ; kami] cause the oddest thing just happened to me [txt ; kami] help [txt ; kami] /img upload of kami's car with the front bumper damaged/

it's  been  a  little  less  than  an  hour  since  his  stream  ended,  and  ren  finds  he's  still  a  bit  on  edge.  there's  a  part  of  him  that  wants  nothing  more  than  to  wrap  his  hands  around  the  neck  of  whichever  idiot  suggested  he  give  frostpunk  a  shot  —  and  another  part  of  him  that  begrudgingly  acknowledges  his  SUFFERING  at  least  makes  for  good  content.  (  feed  the  people  sawdust,  they  said!  that's  the  last  time  he  follows  suggestions  from  chat.  )  he's  taken  a  shower,  washed  off  more  layers  of  glitter  and  makeup  than  he  cares  to  think  about  and  thrown  on  a  set  of  pajamas ...  that  may  actually  belong  to  kazuha  if  the  way  they  fit  on  his  frame  serve  as  any  indication.  at  least  the  t-shirt;  it  wouldn't  be  a  stretch  to  say  ren  stole  it  on  purpose.  in  any  case,  he's  looking  forward  to  a  long,  insomnia-fueled  evening  of  recovering  from  the  mortifying  ordeal  of  being  known.

he's  curled  his  entire  body  up  in  his  chair  in  a  manner  that  may  very  well  earn  a  scrap  of  respect  from  any  skilled  contortionist.  there's  a  can  of  cold  brew  coffee  clutched  in  one  hand  that  purportedly  contains  an  exuberant  amount  of  caffeine,  but  ren  thinks  he'll  be  the  JUDGE  of  that.  he's  just  about  to  open  it  —  when  suddenly  his  phone  starts  buzzing  away  on  his  desk.

❝  ...  ❞  once  he  can  (  and  will  )  ignore.  but  then  it  happens  again.  and  again.  and  again.  and  finally  he  thinks  he  probably  can't  IGNORE  IT  anymore  —  which  is  irritating,  at  least  until  he  snatches  up  the  device  with  a  frustrated  huff  and  squints  at  the  name  displayed  across  the  screen.  kaminari?  the  streamer  arches  a  brow  and  puts  down  his  coffee,  turning  his  full  attention  on  the  phone.  deft  fingers  swiftly  input  his  passcode  and  he  watches  as  the  messages  continue  to  flood  in  all  the  while.  a  two  ton  paperweight?  is  this  some  kind  of  RIDDLE?  he  wouldn't  really  put  it  past  kami  to  send  him  something  so  strange  and  obscure  without  any  prior  context  —  particularly  not  when  ren  is  equally  guilty  of  doing  the  same.

then  he  sees  the  picture  —  and  promptly  realizes  this  isn't  a  JOKE  at  all.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑: what the fuck

seriously.  he's  at  a  bit  of  a  loss  for  words  here.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑: are you okay?? where the hell are you right now 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑: for the record that joke was terrible. 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑: i hope you're concussed. 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑: but seriously. do you need a ride

he ... doesn't have a car.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑: hospital???

[oriocookie]

percy jackson fic list

as soon as this list gets too big, itll separate into smaller, more specific categories

masterlist

A School Thrives off of Rumors and Gossip by the_fandoms_have_risen

Percy was different it only made sense that people would talk about it.

confessions of a drive-thru employee by thelordofshrimp for buoyantsaturn

a block down the street from DOA Records is a coffee shop. the mess spills over.

inspired by twenty four seven, i hate my love for you by buoyantsaturn! i was not allowed to say this was inspired by a series so i just linked to the first part. read that before this, or else this will make no sense and you, like our narrator, will be grasping at straws

The Overwhelming Specter of Your Mothers Book Club by 60sec400

Martha Blofis stared at her son in shock. “What do you mean,” she said slowly, “that you’re married?” Her son fidgeted nervously. First, he ran a hand through his peppered hair, and then his eyes flickered down and away. Then he lifted them again and smiled meekly at her. “Paul,” she said, “I need you to tell me what in gods name you were thinking.” “Her name is Sally Jackson?” Paul said, his voice lifting as he weren’t quite sure what the name of his wife was.

AKA Paul tells his mother he hasn't seen in four years that he's married. Really, the only thing she can think about is what she's going to tell her boook club.

crush crush crush by skyekingsleigh

Claire is new, and she's crushing on Percy hard. Only, he's "unavailable." Whatever that means.

through mortal eyes by ysavalkyrie (orphan_account)

Cassandra Fabroa was paired with Will Solace on their final project for Latin class.

She was very grateful. Not only because Cass had noticed that Will was really educated on that particular subject (he was top of that class too) but Will Solace was also hot.

Really hot.

percy jackson and the scrutiny of his coworkers by pqrker

Jim turned back to the tank and looked at Marcie the seal, who was now staring at the spot his coworker had been standing just moments before with that same strange look of reverence in her eyes.

Percy Jackson truly was the oddest person Jim Elpool had ever worked with.

or

5 times percy's coworkers were confounded by his fish magic, plus 1 time they try to figure it out

the jackson files by Ideasofmarch

Makin’ pancakes @makinbaconpancakes Does anyone know who the fuck Percy Jackson is???

Oranges are spicy @ronaldmcd Whomst?

Makin’ pancakes @makinbaconpancakes Check rachel dares insta story

Oranges are spicy @ronaldmcd k

Oranges are spicy @ronaldmcd Okay somebody find out who this kid is right damn now.

-

Rachel Elizabeth Dare posts a video of Percy on her instagram story. it all just spirals from there.

Someone to You by mrthology

Anna wasn't sure what to think of Percy Jackson, truth be told, having only met him twice. She adored her daughter in law Sally and her little granddaughter, but there was something about Percy that put her on edge. She had no idea what - he was a kind boy, eager to help with his baby sister when most teenagers would run for the hills and clearly adored his mother - but there was just something about him, something about his too-bright eyes that made her feel uneasy.

~~~

Or, Paul's parents are taking care of Estelle for a few days. When picking her up, they meet Percy again as well as his older brother (what was his name? Tri?). At this point, Anna just wants to know what the dad looks like to have kids that look like THIS. Especially when, several days later, they meet the stepmother as well.

the kids are all hopped up and ready to go by SammiPhoenix

Annabeth was fighting for her life, for the fate of the entire world, and her soulmate was singing the duck song. “A duck walked up to the lemonade stand and he said to the man, running the stand, ‘hey,’ bam, bam, bum, ‘got any grrrrrrrrapes?’” - - - - Annabeth doesn't try to find her soulmate, they find her.

etched on skin by unsureavenger

After Long Island is struck by ancient magic, Annabeth finds that broken sentences start to appear on her wrist; the thoughts of her soulmate. And she isn't the only one.

To Feel at Home by aMantaRay

There were a few stipulations, of course. Come up to make it look like he was breathing every once in a while, maybe appear a little wet in the water, and maybe, just maybe, let the other kids win every once in a while.

He smiled slightly at the thought, stepping out of the locker room, parka draped comfortably over his shoulders, arms not through the sleeves. Nah, today he’d win. It was the final meet before nationals and he wanted to compete.

After the war, Percy finally has a chance to feel a little bit normal.

The Baffling Transcontinental Road Trip of Percy Jackson by CassandraStarflower

“This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved, we cover the case of Percy Jackson.”

Start Over by RainKiss

Mr. Morelli is not a nervous person by character, but the file in front of him gives the scholastic transgressions of the new kid, who has been allowed to attend Goode High school—the place where he works.

Long Time No Sword-Fight? by ACrazyCooki

Annabeth decides to visit Percy at Goode Highschool. However, a video of them sparring is leaked to the entire school.

Get to Know You Better by the_seaworthy_muffin

If Paul may say so himself, he thinks he’s getting better at all this demigod business. * Or: Percy is struggling in the aftermath of the Pit, and Paul tries to help. Hilarity, Angst, and heaps of Family Feels ensue. A (Step) father-son bonding fic.

The Flood by Hazel652

A flood at Goode High causes Percy to explain the truth about his identity to Paul. Paul and Sally have an important talk.

The Boyfriend by Roselightfairy

The cliche: Annabeth's private-school friend finds out that Annabeth has a boyfriend. The twist: This mortal already knows Percy Jackson, from long ago.

Witnesses by Roselightfairy

Percy and Annabeth probably thought they were being subtle, but everyone knew about them even before they did. These are their "moments" from the perspectives of the people who just happened to be watching.