#it's just every once in a while when he feels love from sally and feels human for a microsecond he suddenly becomes aware of the

[pumkinzee]

Could you write smth similar to your husband!jason HCs but with percy please? i love all that you've written!

PAPER RINGS ˏˏ HUSBAND!PERCY JACKSON

pairing: Percy Jackson x gn!reader

⌑ - English isn't my first language so I'm using a translator and my basic knowledge of the language!

𝐑equest 𝐨pens! + 𝐫ules!

If Jason planned for months what the proposal would be like, he is the complete opposite. He always knew that he wanted to marry you, he knew that you were the one, the one who would raise his children, the one who he would wake up in bed with every day, he already knew that he would spend the rest of his days with you, he just didn't know how to handle the idea of ​​marriage. Too nervous? Yes, but mostly hesitant, he spoke a lot with his mother about how to take it and how to analyze when the right time would be. It took him longer than necessary not because of the decision, but because learn to organize. 

When you told him yes, he had a fit of nervous laughter, you thought it had all been a joke and you almost got angry with him until you saw how he started to cry from emotion. Yes, it was a complete disaster. 

Small and special wedding, his friends, his mother, Paul and Estelle, what we would all think. Beach wedding? Try to get the idea out of my head. Honeymoon to Montauk, you guys couldn't afford anything too expensive, it was a special place for him and he got to make it special for you too, it was the perfect place. 

You move in together a little while after the wedding, a comfortable and bright flat with a sea view, always lit up, sand on the floor and the smell of blue food, if that makes any sense. The move is quicker than you thought because of how used he is to moving, schools, houses, cities, everything Sally did for him unconsciously developed in him a great speed when it comes to moving.

As boyfriends he was already cuddly, as a husband? You're lost, wait till you spend the first week with a clingy, complaining husband, the kind that clings to your foot and you end up dragging him while you walk because he won't even let you go to the bathroom.

He is afraid of losing his ring, he wears it whenever he leaves the house, even when they go to the corner just to buy bread, he is very proud of his marriage. He tells his life to people who mention his ring just because they thought it was pretty, they learned to stop asking stupid things to stupid strangers.

He's not allowed to touch the kitchen, even if it's with all his heart and Sally taught him how to cook, I don't think he has any talent for cooking, I feel like he forgets he has things in the oven, he doesn't know how to turn on the stove, he cuts his fingers. You better cook or you'll have the kitchen as a decoration, sometimes you just ask Sally for help.

Sally? Oh, she LOVES you. You become another of his children, spoiled and pampered who will always have a plate of blue cookies on the table, she talks to you for hours about so many different things that you never get bored.

With Paul it's much the same, a good cup of tea and you'll be comfortable talking with your father-in-law about adult life and life in general.

They love you, you are never bored and you are always invited to spend the holidays with them, there comes a point where they ask about you so much that Percy wonders if they ever hesitated to adopt you before the wedding.

Estelle adores you, she loves it when Percy brings you with him because she can run to you so you can hug her and carry her into the air. You spoil her a lot secretly from Sally, she is your little accomplice to play pranks on Percy.

Percy develops a baby fever that lasts...oh, how it lasts.

nswf cut!

Once you were lying on your bed, happy to be alive since demigods live less than average, and the next you have Percy between your legs. He doesn't say much, at first you think he just wants cuddles and is being whimsical, but you quickly realize he has something else on his mind.

Dealing with horny Percy is...wow. Dealing with him on your honeymoon was just the beginning, he's quick and possessive, but not toxic possessiveness, he owns you because he wants you to be there for him and him alone, it hurts his heart when you're not with him. He is healthily obsessed with you.

Kisses on the neck drive him crazy, he is not a very vocal person, but be prepared to have to shut him up, you will never see him making as much noise as now again

He loves being on top of you, reading your features, how you roll your eyes, how you shyly moan his name. He gives you kisses all over your face when you take him because he knows which is big

He has a very big ego, sorry, this man is obsessed with the way you squeeze him or squirm because of him

Sex in public? Yeah, well, no. Places where no one is there but someone could walk in, he knows what he's doing.

nsfw cut!

He’s a dad son

Yes, we would all want to see him with a daughter, he would treat her like a princess and spoil her a lot (Estelle would be jealous) but I feel that with a son he could be the boy he never could; He would scream, he would laugh, he would run around the house, they would watch movies until late, he would take him to the movies, they would play soccer together, he would take him to the beach, he would be the boy Gabe never let him be.

He is not overprotective, but that does not mean he is irresponsible, he knows that, if his son has his powers, he would know how to defend himself perfectly, he would train him but in his own way, being the son of the most powerful demigod will not make him weak, and Percy knows that.

If your son gets suspended or something, Percy will defend him the way Sally defended him.

Blue food everywhere.

You come home from work and the first thing you see is Percy asleep in the living room with your son asleep on your chest, the television is on and there are cookie crumbs on the floor.

©pumkinzee

[leaawrites]

Sally!

Tucker Pillsbury/Role Model x fem!reader

Summary: Tucker bringing an extra special guest on stage for 'Sally'.

Warnings: fluff, some angst at the beginning

Wordcount: 0.6k

This can be read as a part two to Tour Date, doesn't have to though.

Masterlist, Hollywood Masterlist

The crowd was already buzzing with anticipation. Everyone's eyes glued to the side of the stage to not miss the person coming out from behind it tonight.

What became a fun occasion for fans to go on stage with Tucker quickly turned into a tradition partaken by celebrities. And now it was her turn.

Nervously she bounced her foot on the wooden floor, mumbling the words she knew by heart already. Having stood in the crowd countless times already gave her an advantage to knowing how the night would progress.

Usually she would be standing here and watch, not prepare, or in the middle of the crowd, acting like any other fan there to see him. And while she was there to see him, she wasn't just any other fan.

Which was the whole problem.

Tucker had gotten the idea the moment they came up with the tradition. 'Someday, I want you up there,' he said as they both stood in front of the stage after soundcheck one day. 'And I won't hold back showing how much I love you.'

It was a horrible idea in her mind as first. Every bad thought she ever had about herself crawling back up her spine. But he made it seem so easy. Jumping around on stage, joking with fans, making them feel like they were nothing but long distance friends that haven't seen each other in a while.

"Alright," she mumbled as they came closer to the bridge with every word. "This is gonna be alright, it's nothing crazy."

And then she heard it, "Who is my Sally tonight, huh?"

Her cue. Her time to step out. Shaking the nerves from her body, she let her body move to the music like they'd done together countless times in their living room. Eyes steadily focusing on him and nothing else. His outstretched hand as he waited for her to be close enough to pull her in.

"Oh my god," he said into the mic. "It's the girl of my dreams!"

At his words, not only did she feel lighter, her muscles were easier to move now, the fans were screaming, raving, trying to get a closer look at her.

When her hand got to his, he took it tightly, pulling her closer to his chest so that there was just enough space for the mic to reach his lips. Squeezing her hand before twirling her in a silly manner he started singing with the crowd.

'Oh shit, here we go again'

Every gaze was focused on them. The words laying heavy in the air around them.

'I'm falling head first'

Pulling her in again, he never left her enough time to pull away fully. With his hand on her waist, he moved their bodies like they were dancing only for the two of them, not with hundreds of eyes watching them. Adrenaline flooding every nerve system in the room.

'Ankles hit the two-step, Sally makes my head hurt'

The smile inevitable on his face, taking over his body as he messed up the lyrics when seeing her comfortably pull away and skipping across stage. Moving to the melody like standing on stage wasn't new to her.

'Heard through the grapevine, she can be a diva'

She acted it out, did the things she did in the crowd. Singing with him. Dancing like no one was watching.

'Cold like Minnesota, hotter than a fever'

And when it came back to the chorus, Tucker screamed, "Sally!" before pulling her in. Crashing his lips on hers and making the room freak out once more. More shouting, more excited screaming, more silence in their heads. It was done now. They had done it and it couldn't have been better.

'Private, but not a secret' They agreed on it before the show.

[blondejellykitty]

₊♡ ˚⊹ hidden deep inside ₊♡ ˚⊹

୨୧ percy jackson x mortal reader ୨୧ is it foolish to think that greek mythology is real and that your boyfriend is a part of it? find part one: i know all your secrets a/n: (1.4k words) finally part two is here! sorry it took so long x 🩷

A month. You had a month until your lovely boyfriend Percy Jackson had his birthday.

You'd walked through almost every store in your city eight times before realizing you had no idea what to get him.

As horrible as it sounded it was true. What kind of a girlfriend couldn't think of a good gift?

You'd quickly given up trying to find clothes he'd like. Which shade of blue would he like best in his shirts? Was it too easy to give him clothes in his favourite colour? What if you'd overdone it and he no longer likes blue?

No clothes then.

You'd look at jewelry, you knew he prefers silver over gold. but he didn't like things that jangled and made noise. A ring then. But as you looked at the prices of the few you thought he'd like. Your heart broke as each one rose higher than the last.

No rings then.

You'd thought about cologne, none of the stores had the specific one he liked most. 

Then you saw a store that sold skateboards but you knew his friend, Annabeth, was getting him one. she'd thankfully told you before she bought it what she was getting him so you knew not to get it.

You briefly passed a bookstore before remembering how Percy made clear how he had difficulty reading. 

Everything you'd thought of it just didn't feel right. It didn't feel enough. Percy always put thought into the gift he showers you in, and while you try to reciprocate that, his birthday was different. 

This had to be the gift.

He had mentioned a restaurant he'd found, one that served all his favourites and you'd tried to get a reservation but they were all booked out.

He'd told you stories about how his mother used to give him blue candy from the store she used to work at but when you talked to her on the phone she mentioned how she was gifting it to him once again.

He'd tell you of the times he'd go to montonk with his mother but you had no idea how to get him there without him noticing. 

Perhaps you should just tell him. Tell him you didn't have any surprises but you still wanted to spend time with him. You could make his favourite food and do whatever he wanted. You could stargaze and he could relax, he could tell you more stories and have a peaceful day.

Stories. Percy loved stories! Of course, if you couldn't buy him a present you could just make him one. He couldn't read English well, but you knew he could read Greek, ancient greek. 

You'd been on a date at a museum and there was a statue holding a slab of writing. Offhandedly you said that you wished you knew what it said, Percy automatically read it out. He'd quickly brushed it off that he was joking but you knew better than that.

Over the year you two had been together and the year prior you both were friends for, you knew to take notice of the odd little slip up he has. 

When he's asleep and mumbles something in another language, one you'd bet was ancient greek. 

When you both visit the beach and his tanned shoulders and back over various scars. the odd white streak in his hair that he never has to dye to stay there, and from the baby photos sally showed you, he wasn't born with it. 

And finally there was his father. You'd never met the man but Percy often talks about him, and the strange family business at sea he works for.

You were researching and trying to learn greek, modern greek so at least you might have a headstart on the ancient language next. Planning to write the story, his story in a language he could understand.

But the more Greek mythology you read the more foolish you thought you were becoming.

A part of you, the part who loved a good fantasy story enjoyed the idea of it all. Stories of tragedy, love and war. Of heroes and gods alike. It all seemed far fetched of course but a nagging part of you wanted to believe it to be true.

Which was ridiculous. How could both science and mythology be true at the same time? 

Could the Earth rotating on its axis be the reason for the sun rising or could it be Apollo and his chariot? 

The reason for thunder and lightning is that Zeus was having a bad day or that there's a buildup of electric charges in storm clouds? 

Do you dream because your brain still thinks it's awake while you sleep or because Morpheus blessed you with a dream?

Is it possible for both to happen at once? That the sun is both at once? That the lightning is both together? That dreams have reasons?

Surely not... that would be absurd.

However it would make more sense about the weird horse that follows Percy everywhere, seriously that horse has strange vibes. Like he can understand your questing gaze, not to mention if you looked at him close enough you're sure you can see wings.

Or the time you briefly met Percy's brother on the way to work. You were running late and Tyson, you later learned his name was, knocked on the front door looking for Percy. 

They had something to do at work together and had come to pick him up. You were in such a rush to not be later than you already were, it wasn't until later when you thought back on it. 

You were sure Tyson only had one eye, but it was blurry like one second he was fine then next his eyes shifted into one in the middle of his face, before quickly disappearing again. You just assumed it was because of the busy morning you had.

The more you remembered the more that deep nagging feeling in you got stronger. To the point of it almost hurting.

Nevertheless you kept learning and kept writing, it wasn't completely accurate (not by a long shot), you just hoped it was somewhat understandable.

By the time you were finished the entire book percy had almost spoiled the surprise for himself three times. You could tell he was becoming more and more suspicious especially when you would continue to brush his questions off.

But it would be worth it. Hopefully.

His birthday couldn't have come any quicker. You both promised Sally to visit and have dinner with them but you got him all to yourself in the morning.

Everything was going to plan.

You'd made him his favourite breakfast without any error. 

You'd both gone on a morning walk around the city just like he said he wanted to, all without any incidents. 

You'd both bought lunch to take back home where you two watched a movie he got to pick.

After all of that, you finally worked up the courage to give him his gift. You'd left to grab it where you'd hidden it away. 

You looked over the birthday wrapping paper double checking everything was still perfect before running back into the living room where percy patiently sat.

"I really hope you like it, Happy Birthday love" You mumbled nervously as you handed the wrapped gift to his waiting hands.

"I know I will, beauty" His easy smile soothed your worries.

He carefully unwrapped his present, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion before he flipped the book over. His eyes followed the greek letters on the handbound cover.

The Tales of Perseus Jackson.

A modern day hero.

Written by his love sick poet.

He delicately opened the cover to read the dedication page.

For Percy,

Whether love is a chemical reaction or a arrow shot by Eros

I love you more than words, although the muses can try.

Happy birthday my love.

He looked up at you, tears threatening to fall past his waterline. He looked at you like you'd just hung the stars in the night sky, suddenly you felt a little silly. Why were you ever worried?

He raced up to tightly hug you, his head buried in your shoulder. His whispers of 'I love you's and thank you’s' melted your heart. 

It was all worth it. The late nights, the travelling to libraries, the endless studying.

You realized you'd do just about anything to see that wide smile on his face.

[nylqnder]

𝐏𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐊𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐎 | 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

— cozytober masterlist !

summary: as you and quinn have a little pumpkin carving contest, a hidden talent of his emerges.

warnings: quinn being a bully (kidding but also not), halloween fluff!

word count: 1.59k

notes: fic number three of cozytober! also making it a headcanon that quinn would actually be a secretly elite pumpkin carver.

The sun was just beginning to set as you and Quinn stepped through the rows of pumpkins, your uggs crunching on the hay-strewn path. The air was crisp with that signature fall chill, and the scent of autumn leaves filled your senses. You loved this time of year—the cozy sweaters, the pumpkin-flavored everything, and, of course, the Halloween traditions. But what made it even better was doing it all with Quinn. It was your first fall that you were spending with Quinn and you were elated to do fall-themed coupley stuff with him.

Rows upon rows of bright orange pumpkins stretched out in front of you. Quinn’s hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, his breath coming out in little white clouds.

“Think this one has potential?” you ask, nudging a round, medium-sized pumpkin with your boot.

“It’s… okay,” Quinn says, you snorting at his pickiness around pumpkins. “It’s a perfectly average pumpkin.”

“Alright, buddy,” you say, rolling your eyes and picking the pumpkin off the ground. “I’m taking it.”

You continue on, stepping over rogue vines, while Quinn scans the patch for the perfect pumpkin. Finally, Quinn picks one—big, smooth, and almost annoyingly perfect. Of course, he would. Meanwhile, yours is a little less flawless, but it has character, you tell yourself. It’s smaller, but round with just the right amount of wonky.

Once back at your place, you both set up at the kitchen table, spreading out newspapers and pulling out carving tools. Quinn insists that you carve in secret—“so we can do a big reveal at the end,” he says, waggling his eyebrows like this is some high-stakes challenge. You agree, slightly amused by how into this he’s getting.

The kitchen is filled with the sound of scraping, slicing, and your occasional grunt of frustration as you work on your pumpkin. The strong scent of pumpkin guts filled the air as the two of you worked side by side, throwing the seeds and pulp into a bowl. Every now and then, Quinn would glance over at you, trying to sneak a peek at your progress.

“Hey! No peeking at my masterpiece,” you scolded, pointing your spoon at him.

Quinn held his hands up in surrender, a smirk on his lips. “Alright, alright, sorry. I’ll wait.”

You go for one of those basic patterns—the triangle eyes, a jagged smile. It was simple, but you figured it was foolproof. Quinn, on the other hand, seemed focused, too focused, as he meticulously worked on his pumpkin. His brow was furrowed in concentration, tongue poking out slightly in the way it did when he was deep in a thought.

“Almost done over there?” Quinn calls from his side of the table, sounding suspiciously confident.

“Almost,” you lie, frantically trying to smooth out the jagged lines that seem to get worse the more you touch them.

After what feels like forever, Quinn finally announces, “Alright, the moment of truth. Ready?”

You hesitate, glancing down at your pumpkin. It’s…well, it’s not your best work. The eyes are uneven, the smile is crooked, and the whole thing is more ‘lumpy blob’ than ‘spooky jack-o-lantern.’ “How about you go first.” you suggest, hoping that Quinn’s carving will make you feel better about your own.

Quinn turned his pumpkin around with a dramatic flourish. And you froze.

“Oh my god,”

Quinn has somehow carved an intricate scene—Jack Skellington and Sally, perfectly etched into the smooth orange skin of his pumpkin. The detail is incredible, down to the stitching on Sally’s dress and the eerie grin on Jack’s face. It’s from your favorite movie, The Nightmare Before Christmas.

“How did you—?” you stammer, still staring at it in disbelief.

Quinn rubs the back of his neck, looking oddly proud of himself. “I know it’s your favorite, so I figured I’d give it a shot.”

Your heart squeezes. He knew. He remembered. “It’s amazing,” you say softly, still staring at the pumpkin like it’s a masterpiece in a gallery. “Seriously, Quinn, this is…it’s perfect.”

He grins, his usual cocky confidence flickering in his eyes. “Yeah? You like it?”

“Like it? I love it.”

But then you glance down at your pumpkin — your sad, lopsided creation — and suddenly feel a wave of embarrassment. Compared to Quinn’s masterpiece, yours looks like it was carved by a five-year-old.

“Alright, your turn.” Quinn says, urging you to turn around your pumpkin to display your artwork.

“Nah, that’s okay, I think this one ought to go in the compost.” you joke, picking it up and turning to take it out to the bins.

“Hey, hey, no backing out now,” he says, pulling you back to him. “Let’s see it.”

You sigh, placing it back on the table and reluctantly turning it to face Quinn. You hold your breath, bracing for the teasing you know is bound to happen.

To his credit, Quinn tries. He really does. He looks at your pumpkin, his lips twitching as he fights the urge to laugh. You see it in his eyes, the struggle to hold back, but after a second, he just can’t help it and he bursts out laughing.

You cross your arms, fighting a smile. “You’re mean”

“No, no, I’m sorry,” Quinn says between laughs, holding his hands up in surrender. “It’s cute! It’s, uh—” he pauses, still chuckling. “It’s unique. Yeah, that’s the word.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but you can’t help but laugh too. “Yeah, ‘unique.’ That’s what people say when they don’t want to say it’s bad.”

He steps around the table and nudges you with his elbow, his laughter fading into a softer smile. “Hey, I’m serious. It’s cute. I mean, I wasn’t expecting you to carve, like, Michelangelo or anything.”

“Gee thanks, I’m glad you kept your expectations low for me,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Hey, hey,” Quinn says in a soft tone, stepping behind you and wrapping his arms around your torso. “It’s actually really cute… in a kind of dopey way.”

You snort, pushing out of your boyfriend's grasp, going back to Quinn’s pumpkin that you can’t help but admire. “Whatever, at least we have a cute pumpkin to display.”

“Yeah… you know I think I’ve found my true calling.” Quinn joked.

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Pro pumpkin carver instead of pro hockey player? Bold career shift,” you quipped, crossing your arms and giving him a playful look.

Quinn shrugged dramatically, eyes twinkling. “The heart wants what it wants, babe. Sure, scoring goals is fun, but nothing beats the thrill of carving cartoon characters into a gourd.”

You burst out laughing, the sound filling the cozy kitchen. “Right, because that's totally the dream: trading in ice skates for carving tools.”

He stepped closer, slipping his arms around your waist again, pulling you into him with a smirk. “Hey, don’t underestimate me. Maybe I could be the first dual-career athlete and pumpkin carving champion.”

You couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across your face. “I can see it now—‘Quinn Hughes: NHL star by day, pumpkin Picasso by night.’”

“Now that is a title I could get behind,” he said, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. His playful grin softened as his lips lingered for a moment. "But really, this was a good night. You’re a pretty great carving partner, you know?”

You smiled up at him, warmth spreading through you as you rested your hands on his chest. “I’d say the same about you, but I think you might have stolen the spotlight.”

Quinn chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. “How about we light these suckers up and see how they look in the dark?”

You grab the package of tea lights that you’d purchased from the Dollar Store earlier that day, placing them in the middle of your pumpkins and lighting them, before flicking off the kitchen lights. The small flame illuminates the inside of your pumpkins, fully showing off the designs.

“How does it look worse in the dark?” you groan, Quinn chuckling softly.

“I think it has… a rustic charm. Like, it’s so bad, it’s good.”

You roll your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. “You’re terrible. But fine, it can stay.” You step back, admiring his intricate carving of Jack and Sally, illuminated now in a way that makes it feel almost magical. The soft candlelight flickers, casting shadows that give Jack’s face a slightly sinister edge while Sally looks hauntingly beautiful.

A thought suddenly pops into your head, and you turn to Quinn, eyes lighting up. “Alright, we have to watch Nightmare Before Christmas now. It’s basically a requirement after this,” you say, gesturing to his pumpkin. “You can’t just carve Jack and Sally and not watch the movie. That’s sacrilegious.”

Quinn grins, stepping closer to you. “You sure you’re not just looking for an excuse to cuddle up and watch your favorite Halloween movie?”

You smirk, raising an eyebrow at him. “Maybe… but you’re the one who set the mood with this carving, so really, it’s your fault.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he pulls you into a warm embrace. “Alright, alright, I’ll take the blame. But you’re in charge of making popcorn. I’ll go put these on the porch.”

“Deal,” you say, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before slipping out of his arms.

As you head to the kitchen to grab popcorn, you feel a rush of warmth and contentment. This was exactly what you’d imagined—a perfect fall night even if your pumpkin didn’t turn out exactly how you’d hoped.

[baphmochii]

Random Thought #3:

[Been a hot minute since I last wrote a random lil' thought onto my blog, ofc it's about our man Sal. This thought has been coming to mind.. A LOT lately and I'm kinda loving it, heh.]

. . .

What if.. Sal had chest hair?

➤ To get this out off my chest, I don't think Sal would have a beard considering it doesn't make sense nor is it.. possible for him. I can see Sal having slight stuble on the none-scared part of his face (left side) like if he's too lazy to shave, haha.

➤ Hear me out.. Sal with chest hair, preferably much older Sally - around his mid or late twenties and so on. It's obvious his father (Henry) seems to be quite the hairy guy so maybe Sal inherited some of those genetics from his pops.

➤ Sal isn't overly hairy on his chest, not like werewolf levels of hairy, lol but was thinking as an example: Brahms Heelshire (The Boy). If anyone can see my vision with this and get a good understanding of it as well, thank you. I am horrid at trying to properly explain I'd have to flat out draw Sal with his mighty chest hair, lmao.

➤ Hairy man Sal just.. awakens something inside of me, y'know? Obviously, I can see him with some arm, leg, and underarm hair but the happy trail on that man and just something about Sal having a hairy chest drives me up a wall. (I HAVE to draw it).

➤ At first, Sal didn't care much for his hairy chest, thinking about shaving it off to have that smooth feel again but once you had told him how much you loved it on him - he quit shaving his chest. Sal loves the way you feel him up too, he finds it arousing yet comforting, he loves when you touch him whether it be his face or hands - the man loves your touch.

➤ Sal also finds it incredibly adorable how you'll shove your face in his chest, he loves when the two of you are cuddling and of course you're lying on top of him - face buried in his furry chest slightly dozing off while your arms are wrapped around him. Every so often he'll glance down at you, a smile on his handsome scared face as he rubs your back before turning his attention back to whatever he's watching on the television in your guy's shared bedroom.

➤ Now, I do not see young adult Sal (18-19) having much of a hairy chest, for my vision around these ages he doesn't start growing chest hair until he's hitting his twenties like some hairs here and there, if that makes sense. By the time this man is 26-30 and so on.. the mans.. GROWN ASS MAN. Larry kind of gets jealous a bit from it, older bro jealous that younger bro's got hairs on his chest (and bigger muscles lol) thought that'd be funny.

➤ Sal doesn't really take his shirt off often whether he's indoors or outdoors, I feel like it's every once in awhile when it's too hot or something. I feel like Sal would wear (obviously) his icon long sleeve shirt or a regular shirt or some tank he has lying around his room, the times he doesn't wear a shirt you can't really take your eyes off your man. I'll leave whatever thoughts you'd have of him to the imagination, lol.

➤ Regardless of his body type whether it's muscular or dad bod Sally with a hairy chest you'd still be all over him in a heartbeat, you'd be on him so much he'll have to keep a crowbar on him at all times to get you off of him when needed, lmao.

. . .

[That's all I got unfortunately.. it isn't the best random ass thought for tonight but.. it's something I suppose and I hardly see any Sal stuff on here anymore which makes me sad.. I wanna have more fics of my darling husband.]

[starlightshadowsworld]

Concept: There’s a moment that Jason and Leo have that I feel could’ve been interesting to explore with Jason and Percy.

At the start of the series Leo likes Jason but he’s also very jealous of him. Because Jason is everything he’s not.

He’s tall, blond, conventionally attractive and got the girl. On paper Jason is perfect in all the ways Leo isn’t and he both loves and resents him for it.

And the turning point, when Leo first realises thats not the case is when they all learn about Beryl Grace. But It’s not that Jason’s mother is dead that does it.

It’s that Jason has no memories of her. He is sat listening to Thalia recount a tragedy and for the first time Leo doesn’t envy him at all.

Because the only thing Leo has ever had to hold onto to keep him going is the memory of his mother. His mother was a loving, kind woman and Leo would never want to live a life without any recollection of her.

For the first time Jason looks so painfully lost and alone. For the first time that perfect mask shatters and Leo sees the real Jason.

And that’s who he befriends for real.

Now I’m not saying that Percy is jealous of Jason or that he should be. But much like Leo he also views Jason as this perfect kind of person.

He’s blond superman. He looks like every popular kid that used to bully Percy. And much like Leo, Percy both loves and resents Jason for it.

And I think an interesting turning point could’ve been Jason meeting Sally.

Unlike the rest of his friends, Jason has no real concept of what family and thus what a parent is supposed to be. He never met his father, he met his mother’s corrupted ghost sure but he only really learned about her from Thalia.

And of course he cares about Thalia but he hasn’t been her little brother in over a decade. The closest thing to a parent Jason’s had is Lupa who raised him as one of her own.

But even that was temporary. And well first rule of the Wolf house is self-reliance…imagine learning that as a toddler. And then being sent to and growing up in what’s essentially the military.

All Jason’s experiences with adults are that he has to serve a purpose and once he’s served that purpose, he will be discarded.

Meanwhile Percy, similar to Leo dealt with a lot growing up but he always had Sally. He always had someone he could be himself around. Someone who loved and cherished him no matter what he did.

Jason meeting Sally in my eyes is him doing his best to be polite and respectful. All things Jason does normally so it’s nothing out of the ordinary at first.

His father’s domain does contain hospitality after all.

But it doesn’t ever go away, not even when the rest of Percy’s friends are a lot more at ease with Sally. There’s such a noticeable difference between the Jason that Percy knows and the one that shows up to his house.

To the point he genuinely thinks Jason’s more at ease fighting monsters than talking to his mother.

And while his mind immediately jumps to oh Jason’s showing off or something, Percy quickly tosses that thought out. Because Jason just isn’t like that as a person.

He’s always respectful. He always asks if there’s anything he can do to help. He always sits closest to the door at dinner. He’s the first to leave. He never stays over. He never comes over if he knows Percy isn’t there, even if others are.

He waits to be dismissed at the table. He always looks kind of unsure if he’s left in the room with her…..

And then it hits Percy that Jason is afraid of his mum. It sounds ridiculous but it makes sense. He’s never seen Jason be this tense around anyone. The guy called his dad’s Greek equivalent unwise once, he’s not afraid like that.

But in the face of Sally Jackson, Jason freezes. He doesn’t dare look her in the eye nor even breathe to loudly in her presence. It’s the way Percy once felt around Gabe.

It’s then he realises another heartbreaking thing, that whenever his mum is around Jason seeks him out. Kinda glues himself by Percy for the rest of the visit.

And now he feels bad for being a bit annoyed by it when he wanted to talk to Annabeth and bam there was Jason.

Because Jason was scared and he sought him out. Not even his own sister but Percy. And it’s just this moment where Percy doesn’t see some unstoppable perfect image.

He sees a scared kid. He’s reminded that Jason is only a year younger than him. But he’s been in this fight long before Percy ever knew it existed.

And Jason had no one. He doesn’t know what a caring home is like. So he sees the embodiment of that in Sally, has no idea how to act.

And it frightens him.

Percy wonders how he never noticed it before. How Jason wears such a mask so well. But he’s seen the real Jason Grace.

And he won’t forget him.

[strawberryflavoredvenum]

Creepypasta insecurities

Toby

🩷his tics(duh)

He isn't as bothered by it as he used to be but every once in a while, he'll get a particularly noticeable one and others will look at him. He hates when people he isn't close with brings them up.

🩷 Sometimes he worries that he is being annoying. Sometimes he actually is being annoying. He is a lot more talkative now that he's been a proxy for a while. He isn't used to socializing so he doesn't always understands social cues. He has the tendency to overshare or interrupt people.

🩷His muzzle leaves a red mark on the bridge of his nose and he hates it. Luckily other proxies don't see him without it for very long. Just to eat or around bed time.

Jeff

🩷He is not the most hygienic person and he hopes it's not noticeable. He wears axe but that makes it so much worse. One time someone left old spice at his door anonymously. It made him feel really bad but he did use it.

🩷Jeff doesn't feel much shame. Mostly because he chooses to block out any memory of his past. Liu is a constant reminder of what happened and though he does love his brother, it's hard to be around him sometimes.

🩷When Sally first met him she cried. He laughed at the time but he still thinks about it and feels bad. It made him feel bad, especially when Sally wasn't scared of most of the other killers.

🩷He has big hands and long fingers. Sometimes they feel out of place and he doesn't know where to put them. He did trex arms as a kid but it was corrected by his parents. Now he just puts them in his hoodie pockets.

Lj

🩷His arms are much too long for his body. It's useful when killing people but they get in the way sometimes.

🩷He is also much much bigger than the other proxies. That combined with his clown aesthetic makes him stand out a lot. He feels out of place.

Ej

🩷 Sometimes his eyes drip onto things or people. Other proxies do not take kindly to it and reactions have ranged from annoyance to aggression. He keeps his personal space.

🩷Jack isn't shy but he is a reserved guy. He doesn't get too personal with most of the proxies. It's not that he doesn't want to talk more, but he doesn't know what to say. By the time he comes up with a response to one topic, the conversation has moved on already.

Nina

🩷 The whole 'jeff obsession' is so embarrassing to her now. She moves on from one obsession to the next pretty quickly. Now that she thinks about it, Jeff isn't even that cool. She likes to pretend that it never happened.

🩷She has an unstable sense of identity. Switching from one aesthetic to the next, much like her obsessions. It seemed to come so easily to everyone else.

Ben

🩷Others do not take him seriously. It's not something that Ben just feels, it's the truth. Despite how much he contributes to the team, he isn't given the same respect. He doesn't want to just be comic relief. (he makes sure none of them end up on the internet/news. He helps wipe their images and records so they aren't found. He can also spy through screens and get valuable info.)

🩷He is much older than Sally, yet they are constantly made to hang out. He gets that Sally needs supervision but he doesn't get why he has to be the all-day babysitter. It's not that he doesn't like Sally, but he rather have peers his own age. (I hc him as an older kid. Like 12-13 or something. I'm not that into Ben drowned so maybe this isn't accurate.)

Helen

🩷 He has a small and lanky build. Not particularly tall either. He is one of the weaker creepypastas and it bothers him sometimes. It also makes him feel less safe being around everyone else.

[respectthepetty]

I really love that Wa and Yotha are good exes to each other now that they are in other relationships fifteen episodes into Perfect 10 Liners. And I love that they keep talking under the "Don't text your ex" sign.

Because even though Wa's relationship with Klao has more than its share of problems, they balance each other out. Klao needs someone to save him from himself, and Wa wants to be a savior.

And Wa couldn't be that person for Yotha. Wa couldn't rescue Yotha all the time. Yotha needed a guy who saw all his darkness and embraced it.

Sometimes a Black Brooder doesn't need to be saved by a Heavenly Human. Sometimes he simply needs a chill Green Guy to remind him that the world isn't such a dark place.

And Yotha found that light in Gun.

Much like Red Rascal Arc realized he could experience happiness every day instead of believing every day was a fight through his love for Yellow Yal Arm.

And Blue Boy Sand and his elite Mean Girls shirt found the perfect guy to understand him in Orange Oddity Pond.

Pond makes him breakfast and leaves little orange notes with daily encouragement.

And Sand loves every second of it!

So it's time for these color-coded boys in love to follow their seniors into domestic bliss, so now that Yotha has apologized for hurting his Green Guy, all is well.

Regardless if Faifa likes it or not.

They could have at least waited until Faifa was pretending to be asleep. The disrespect!

But our pretty Blue Boy still comes out on top after becoming the newest campus star, and he gets a beautiful crown of flowers for it because he deserves nice things.

So while his brothers and brother-in-law are about to go through trails and tribulations, Faifa is just going to be enjoying his win.

And while MY HEART IS BEING RIPPED OUT OF MY BODY, Faifa is going to be celebrating in the bar with his friends.

AND WHEN YOTHA'S HEART IS BEING RIPPED OUT OF HIS BODY AND BEING SMASHED IN FRONT OF HIS FACE, Faifa will be drinking the night away knowing he is the bestest boy on campus.

Narrator: Faifa will, in fact, be very pissed off.

But thank goodness Newton is about that business and decided to bring a gun to a knife fight, so the Jets and Sharks will have to sort out their differences another day.

(These two are so dramatic and constantly remind me that this is a JittiRain series)

But, thankfully, Faifa and his "Where there is love, this is life" shirt exit quickly once he sees everyone is okay and notices that Gun is wearing Yotha's black shirt since he knows that shirt isn't going to stay on long now that Yotha is aware of his feelings.

Gun is pulling a Sally Field right now and is shocked that Yotha actually loves him when all of the signs pointed to Yotha being in love with him, but I love this journey of realization for Gun.

And now Yotha has to negotiate how many cows he is willing to give Gun's family so he can keep him and Gun's dad said he just needed to pay a utility bill every now and then (probably electricity, am I right?), and he can keep his son for life. I love this for them!

BUT I DON'T LOVE THIS! Love does not heal trauma, babes! NO! You are not certified to perform exposure therapy! Don't make Gun cry like this. IT HURTS ME!

*rocking back and forth* I'm going to look at the parents' books about colors and design to calm down. Just leave me here for a second. I'll be fine.

Now this is more like it. Just be there for him when he wakes him. Comfort him. Love him.

Be his sunshine in the darkness.

But do NOT do what you are thinking about doing in his childhood room in his parents' house.

You know what? Actually, go for it! They deserve this.

I have a sister to put to bed anyway.

AYEEE

[hmar177]

DALLAS WINSTON ONE SHOT <3

******SMUTTTTTTTYYYYY******

I'm not sure when I stopped loving Jack, but I know it crept out of the subconscious of my mind the second I saw that damn photo. I know I shouldn't feel this way, Jack is perfect. He comes from a good family, he's sweet and charming, he gets along with my friends and brings my mom flowers everytime he comes over. He was everything I could have dreamed for myself. He is who I should want. But that damn picture of Dallas Winston.

I wish he had just stayed on his side like he was supposed to.

My predicament started a few months ago when I was walking home from school. I had to stay late after my final class to run over a few plans with the committee for the dance coming up. It was my first dance that I was fully running myself and I was over the moon about it. I loved planning big events like this. My brain worked meticulously over every detail and it was so satisfying watching it all come together.

After I had finished my meeting with Sally and Davis, I found myself taking my normal walk home. It was a beautiful day out. The sun was just low enough in the sky to cast a gentle, warm glow on my face, the leaves left a quiet hum in my ears, and I found myself inhaling the glorious scent of the freshly landscaped houses as if the scent would live forever in my lungs if I breathed deep enough.

As I rounded the last corner before my street, I heard loud screeching coming from behind me. A car full of what seemed to be 4 or 5 rowdy boys came barreling down the street. Blasting loud rock music and howling like a pack of wolves, the boys came up fast. I stopped in place and watched as they came closer. They slowed up ever so slightly as they passed me, giving me a good chance to glance into the vehicle. I didn't recognize them, but I did recognize the driver. Dallas Winston.

With his sunglasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose and a cigarette hanging lazily out of his mouth, he held my eyes as he cruised by. I can't tell if I imagined it or not, but I thought I caught a hint of a smirk on his face before he punched the accelerator once more and took off before I could even register the entire exchange. It almost felt like I had just hallucinated that whole sequence.

What were a bunch of greasers doing over here on the west side? Not that I ever had anything against them, I just figured they would want to stay clear of a bunch of privileged, snotty folks who are constantly after their demise.

I had never met Dallas before, but I knew bits and pieces about him. Grew up with a rough homelife, dropped out of school, and even wound up in prison for a while. Everyone in this town saw Dallas and all the greasers as less than. I saw them as kids who just had shit luck when it came to the parents department.

I knew some greasers. There were quite a few in my grade, like Sodapop Curtis. He was one of the sweetest kids I ever met. Had a heart of gold, and a boatload of love for some girl Sandy he always seemed to mention. Soda dropped out a few months ago though after his parents both died tragically in a car accident. Another example of kids with shit luck and no ones around this town to sympathize for them.

Later that night, I found myself sitting at my desk trying to work on my short story. I was assigned by my English teacher to write a short story loosely based on a truly exciting and invigorating time in my life that made me feel alive. The only problem was I have never had an experience in my life that could remotely be described as such.

Everyday, I wake up, go to school, go to event committee meetings, or to my internship at the local newspaper, The Tulsa Chronicles. After all that, I either come home and do homework, or just hangout at the drive in with my friends and my boyfriend Jack. Nothing about my routine is special or interesting. It never changes and I don't see it altering anytime soon. In a town with so little to do, it is quite the tall order to ask us to find something interesting to write about.

I want to be a writer some day, so when I can't complete a simple short story for school, it horrifies me that I may be chasing after a hopeless dream. I intern at the Tulsa Chronicles in hope of it being a good addition to my college applications, but for now I am just helping with the printing and shipping of the papers. One of the editors told me if I had a writing piece that I was proud of, I could pass it along to them and they could give it a read and see if there were any opportunities for me to write something for the paper soon. I was hoping this short story could be that piece that I was proud of, but that is looking like a pipe dream now.

After staring at my blank paper for what feels like hours, I decide tonight is not the night that I am going to find any inspiration, so I turn out the lights and climb into bed. Maybe my dreams will inspire me. Maybe I'll dream of those greasers, flying through neighborhoods and screaming, sounding like they are high on the freedom that life has to offer. I want a taste of what they are having.

The next day is the same as all the other ones, not to anyone's surprise. I woke up, went to school, and made my way over to the Tulsa Chronicles. When I walked in, the newsroom was buzzing much more than normal. In a town as boring as Tulsa, there is not a ton of news to report, so when the newsroom was like this, something major must have happened.

“Rose, get to the printer stat. We need to start loading up these boxes now!” my boss Susan yelled from across the room.

“On it!” I let her know.

As I made my way to the printer, pages were flying out faster than I have ever seen before. This must be a big story if they have the printers working this hard.

Page after page, I watched them stack into a nice pile until the cover page finally flew out.

It read, “Delinquent youths turn heroes after daring fire rescue”

Right next to the title, I saw their faces, Ponyboy Curtis, Johnny Caid, and Dallas Winston.

Pony and Johnny's pictures didn't shock me. Cherry Valance told me a few days ago how sweet and kind they had been to her at the drive in and they always seemed like kind approachable kids. But cherry had also mentioned that Pony and Johnny had protected her from, Dallas Winston

Dallas had always seemed so cold and foreboding. Even his smirk from yesterday's drive by left a chill down my spine. It wasnt that I was afraid of him, but Dallas Winston wasn't someone you just assumed you could become fast friends with. You had to earn his loyalty to be seen with him. His picture being tagged alongside this story seemed extremely out of character. Dallas had his family of greasers and he had himself. There wasn't much else he was looking after. Especially not strangers in some random church fire.

I picked up the front page and looked at it very closely. Part of me didn't want to assume like the rest of this town that this was a mistake, but a bigger part of me couldn't help but think this wasn't true. Dallas Winston saving children he didn't know? Dallas didn't walk by a child in the street without trying to terrify them in some way. Something isn't adding up. Were we all utterly wrong about him? I couldn't help but just stare at his picture, trying to see him run into that burning church. Coming out covered in ash, carrying a couple kids in his arms and placing them down gently before rushing back inside to save more. I felt a twinge in my chest. Something I haven't felt before.

“Rose! Quit daydreaming and pack up those papers. The delivery service will be here in 20 to take those boxes out. They better be filled!” Susan yelled.

“Yes of course.” I replied, suddenly taken out of my temporary, and odd trance.

As I loaded each paper into the boxes, my eyes lingered a little too long on Dallas’s face as each paper piled onto the next. After what must have been hundreds of papers, I “accidentally” misplaced one in my bag sitting next to me. I don't know why I took it. I would surely be getting one of these papers delivered to my house within the next day or so, but part of me wanted to just have this for me. I also didn't want to explain to my dad why I needed his morning paper, the one I had helped package and ship out and have had access to for over a day.

After loading the last box and as a sudden calmness came over the newsroom, it was finally time to head home. I grabbed my bag, making sure the paper was tucked in enough so that it wouldn't be seen, said goodnight to the staff, and made my way out.

As I walked out of the building, I looked up to see Jack leaned up against his shiny new sports car that his parents just bought him as a good job for making the basketball team present. It sounds ridiculous and it is ridiculous. When you come from money like Jack's family, there are very few occasions that don't involve an illustrious gift such as the sports car he now leans against.

I say all this with complete understanding that I come from a family very similar to Jacks. I am privileged and I know that, but I don't see that as a reason to act any differently towards others. Why should the number that's on my fathers paychecks determine whether I am a better person than others? It doesn't. But people like Jack feel that it does. But Jack makes me smile, and my mother hasn't shut up about those lilies he brought her this past weekend when he was over for dinner. Who could hate Jack, right?

“Hey there honey. How was the journalism world today?” Jack says with a smile as he opens the passenger side door for me to get in. Jack picks me up whenever he's in the area and he knows I'm here. It's very sweet of him. Another reason to love him, right?

“Busy. There was a big story today so there were a lot more papers to print and ship.” I told him.

“Really! What was the story?” He asked.

I hesitated for a second.

“Oh I don't remember. I didn't really get a chance to read it. Too busy getting them into boxes.” I explained. I don't know why I lied. I think a part of me felt guilty about the things I felt and thought as I looked at Dallas’s picture the past few hours and another part of me wanted to keep Dallas to myself for a bit longer because by morning everyone would be talking about him. More people would be picturing him as this grand hero, and I still wanted to be the only one who saw him that way.

The rest of the ride, we sat in comfortable silence. That was the best way to describe me and Jack's relationship. Comfortable. Our parents set us up freshman year of highschool and we fell into the narrative with ease. He was cute and popular. It made sense why I should want him, so I convinced myself I did. And it worked for a while. A long while now. But as we come towards the midway point of Junior year, I'm not too sure how much longer I can convince myself that Jack is what I want. But what would be my reason for leaving him? He was too nice to my parents? He made one too many jokes that made all my friends laugh? He was too popular? Too athletic? On paper he was perfect. Trying to tell anyone that my time with Jack was coming to an end would make me sound like the biggest fool. So I just stayed. There was no reason to leave, even though I wanted there to be so badly.

We pulled up to the front of my house and he came around and opened my door. I thanked him and looked up to my house. The big, beautiful white home sat on top of the hill at the top of my street with a huge porch that wrapped around the whole house, and perfectly painted blue shutters. It was truly out of a magazine and I was eternally grateful for being able to be raised in a home as beautiful as this one. The dining room light shined bright and I knew my parents were in there waiting for me to arrive so we could have dinner as a family. Jack took my hand and walked me to the door. My mother opened it as we took the final step onto the porch.

“Jack!’ My mother said, “How kind of you to bring Rose home. Won't you come in and join us for dinner.”

A pit immediately formed in my stomach.

“I'd love-” Jack started before I cut him off.

“I'm actually not feeling very well so I think I am just gonna go to bed.” I quickly sputtered out. Facing Jack I said, “Maybe another night.”

I gave him a quick peck on the cheek before rushing up the stairs and straight into my room before anyone else could say anything. That was definitely rude of me, but the thought of having to sit next to Jack for the next hour, knowing I smuggled home a paper with the only intention of staring at the man on the cover made me extremely nauseous. I may not feel for Jack the way I used to, but I wouldn't be disrespectful, and if I was gonna be disrespectful, I wasn't gonna allow him to eat dinner with me and my family as if everything was fine and dandy.

I sat down on my bed and immediately removed the paper from my bag. It wasn't often that I had strange outbursts such as the one I just had downstairs, so I knew my parents would leave me be for a while. I took the paper, and got comfortable. Reading the entire article front and back and learning that what the title states was indeed true, I took the cover and discarded the rest of the pages. Holding Dallas’s picture up, I thought about the words in the article and how they described the man I was looking at. Bold. Courageous. Brave. Not words I would initially think of when I heard the name Dallas Winston.

His face held hard lines in his jaw and forehead. He had strong dark features and striking eyes. He was beautiful in a rugged and tired way. A way that you never see here in the west side neighborhoods. I was mesmerized by his stern stare. I wanted to know everything about him and I wanted to know it now. I wanted to spend a day with him and learn what it took to earn his trust. To earn a glance from those haunting eyes. The way he looked at me as he rode past me in his car yesterday felt like a shot of espresso. It jolted something awake inside of me. I needed another hit. I craved it.

Before I could comprehend what I was doing, my body was up and at my desk. I was opening my drawer and pulling out a pair of scissors. I slowly and carefully cut around his face making sure not to accidentally trim anything important off, because truthfully it was all important. He was important and I needed to know why.

I held the small picture of Dallas Winston between my fingers, holding as close to the edge as possible, with fear I might smudge it, and I grabbed a piece of tape. Walking over to my bed, I taped the picture on my wall right next to where my head lays when I sleep. I could hide it during the day behind my pillows when I made my bed. It was just for me. He was my new interest. He was my excitement that I had been looking for, I just had to find a way to make these little daydreams something real. As I crawled into bed with the image of dark raven eyes flashing through my mind, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, Jack, my parents, and Tulsa all feeling like a distant memory rather than my reality.

It could have been 3 hours or 3 minutes, but before I knew it, I was woken up by the sound of my desk lamp falling to the ground and a soft breeze coming from my window that I was sure was closed when I got into bed. I shot up like an arrow and reached for the lamp on my bedside table, flicking it on as fast as I could. As the light flooded the room, I was immediately met with the eyes I saw as I lulled myself to sleep. I had to be imagining him right? Dallas Winston stood right there in the middle of my bedroom, standing at least 6 foot 2, drowning in his leather jacket, with his signature blue jeans, and a black eye that was shining through even in the dim lighting.

“Dallas?” I began before he ran over to my bed and clasped his hand around my mouth and the other one slid behind my head keeping me quiet and still.

Slowly he shook his head as if to tell me, now is not a time for talking. I assumed he was scared my parents would hear him, which I am now realizing never even crossed my mind. My parents would lose their minds if they strolled into my room right now to find a greaser, Dallas Winston worst of all, standing in my bedroom at, I flashed my eyes to my clock, 2am. But my parents never even entered my head, nothing really entered my head. Not fear, not my parents, not jack. All I could think about was that incredible shot of adrenaline I felt when I saw him, and coming up with a plan to make him stay as long as possible so I didn't have to stop this feeling.

All of a sudden I heard sirens, and red and blue lights flash past the house at a high speed. I looked up at Dallas who was looking out the window to make sure the coast was clear. His hands were still firmly placed around my head. I studied his face while he wasn't paying attention to me, just as I was doing last night. But this was ten times better. The picture didn't do him justice. He was gorgeous. A light sheen of sweat coated his forehead from running I assumed, and his hair drooped gently in front of his eyes, giving him a rugged elvis look. I could stare at him for hours and not get bored for a second.

Once he saw that he was in the clear, he slowly brought his attention back to me. He studied my face for a second, a small shimmer of something in his eyes but I don't know what it was. After a moment he brought his eyes around my room, studying the pictures and posters on my walls that I'm sure I'll be embarrassed about later, to the books on my nightstand, and with another flick of his gaze, he was locked in on something behind me. He stared long and hard and I couldn't think of what it could be. He slowly came inclose, his lips right next to my ear.

“Well I'll be damned. Looks like I have a fan.” He whispered, his warm breath hitting my neck.

My eyes widened, the picture. Dallas WInston was looking at the picture of him I cut out and taped next to my bed.

“Now tell me darling, if I remove my hands, can you stay quiet and not let anyone know I am here? Because I do have a few questions about this I'd like to ask.” He said quietly with a shit eating grin on his face, so good, that it could seduce the Queen of England.

I slowly nod. Why am I not terrified right now? A known felon is standing in my room right now in the middle of the night. He snuck in my window in an attempt to run from the cops. I am harboring a criminal right now as we speak and all I can think about is how I can end things with Jack so that this lasts forever.

“Good Girl.” He says softly, then slowly takes his hands off my mouth, immediately missing the feel of his touch. God I was so fucked.

He pulled over my desk chair and took a seat right in front of me, our knees almost touching. He held the picture between his fingers looking at it, then up to me.

“So tell me, what's a nice girl like you doing hanging up pictures of bad Dallas Winston on her pretty pink bedroom walls?” He asks.

I think I stopped breathing. What was I supposed to say? There was no real explanation for why I hung up the picture other than I was chasing a feeling I couldn't even name. I stared blankly trying to say anything, trying to think of something to say that would make him as interested in me as I was in him.

“Well?” He pushed after I sat there stunned for I don't even know how long.

“Uhh, I, Uh….. I think I want to feel what you feel.” I said. Shit. That didn't even make any sense. He for sure thought I was crazy. He looked at me puzzled.

“Honey, the last thing you want is to feel what I feel.” He gave a small laugh that created small needles in the back of my throat and moved to get up.

“I want to feel alive. I want to be reckless and have fun. You have fun, don't you?” I said quickly, anything coming out of my mouth was just a hidden plea for him to stay.

He stopped in his tracks, and looked back over to me. The moon casting a soft glow on his hard features. The shimmer in his eyes came back for a second. He slowly sat back down.

“Oh, I have fun. But the kind of fun I have would give a soc like you nightmares.” He said with venom on his tongue. I couldn't tell if he was threatening me or daring me to push him more.

“Show me.” I whispered. Dally smirked at me pondering my dare for a split second, before he slid his switchblade knife out of his pocket and softly dragged the blade from my fingertips, up my arm, and across my collar bone. Every hair on my body stood straight up. My breath hitched ever so slightly and he moved the blade to my neck and held it there.

Part of me was truly scared, and another part of me felt that there was something a bit performative too. Dallas Winston wasn't going to hurt me. I knew that for a fact. He leaned in close, taking a strand of my hair in his other hand, and brought his lips to my ear.

“Are you having fun yet?” He said. I couldn't see his face, but I could hear the smirk in his words.

I backed away so I could meet his eyes. A fire raged behind them. I would give anything to look inside his brain, even for just a moment. I smiled at him and I could see the excitement grow. I don't know why, but I liked what was happening. I liked the uncertainty of what he was going to say and do, and I liked that I trusted him for no reason at all.

“I think I like you more than I should.” I say. I don't know why I said that. I wasn't even embarrassed that I did. It was like being close to him unlocked a new version of myself that I didn't know existed. A version of myself that had confidence and a desire to push the limits. I felt alive.

“Do you like me more than your boyfriend?” He grinned.

“Do you want me to?” I challenged. He grinned and his gaze flicked down to my lips for a moment before it returned to my eyes. The knife at my throat is all but forgotten.

“Let's make a deal. If I can kiss better than a soc, you have to go out with me.” He said.

“And if you can't?” I said, barely a whisper.

“Oh honey, there are very few things I can't do.” He said leaning in and attaching his lips to mine. I felt the knife hit the bed next to me as I melted into his kiss and his hands wrapping around my face.

It was soft and slow for all but a moment, before I knew it he was laying me down on the bed and forcing his tongue into my mouth. I guess it wasn't forcing it, more like me waiting for it and craving it.

My hands roamed his body, feeling his toned muscles through his thin black tee shirt. I slid his leather jacket off, as his hands found their way under my shirt. He planted his hand on my stomach and pushed me down to the mattress keeping me in place. A breeze gently floated in from the window, and it made me hyper aware of the slickness that was now coating my thighs.

His mouth moved to my cheek and then to my neck. I clasp one of my hands over my mouth to muffle my moans. He placed his thigh between my legs allowing me to move my hips to get some relief.

God what was I doing? How did it come to me grinding on Dallas Winston in my bed at 2 in the morning. I couldn't bring myself to stop though. It was all too much. Too good.

“How am I doing sweetheart?” He said in my ear before he brought his face back up to look me in the eyes. “I think the tears in your eyes are telling me that I'm gonna see you tomorrow night.”

I moaned into his shoulder, as I felt his hand trail down my abdomen and underneath my waistband. He teased there for a moment, smirking down at me waiting for me to stop him, but there was no way in hell I wanted this to ever end. I gave him a quick nod before he cupped me over my underwear. He quickly covered my mouth with his own as he knew I was about to moan. He chuckled softly into the kiss.

“My God Dallas. Oh my god” I moaned into his mouth.

“I am a God, aren't I?” He growled before sliding his fingers underneath my underwear and inside of me. The pleasure was so overwhelming, that I bit into his shoulder to stop myself from crying out. He groaned from the pain, but I knew he liked it.

As his fingers pumped in and out of me, he slowly started to grind himself into my hip. He was hard. I felt him poking through his tight jeans, begging to be let out.

“Dallas. I want you.” I begged. I need more of him. I need him closer.

He removed his fingers from me, leaving me feeling empty. I looked up at him and he immediately placed his fingers into his mouth, sucking me off of them. I let out a moan. He was trailing kisses down my chest, then my stomach, never taking his eyes off of me.

“I know baby, I know. Not yet though.” He assured me. “I just need a little taste first.”

He grabbed the waistband of my shorts and my underwear and slowly pulled them down, never stopping his trail of kisses that now led down my leg.

“So beautiful.” He whispered to himself as he was now eye level with my core. “Spread your legs for me baby.” I do what I'm told. “That's it. Good Girl. Now lay back and let me worship you.”

Dallas wastes absolutely no time diving right in and taking all of me into his mouth. He licks from top to bottom and back again before taking my clit into his mouth and sucking. “So sweet.” He moans into me.

I have to grab the pillow on my bed and cover my face because the scream I almost let out would have surely woken up the entire neighborhood. Dallas’s name on the tip of my tongue. The name about to escape with every moan that shoots through me, which would not only let the town know I was in the middle of the most erotic moment of my life, but also it was Dallas Winston that was buried between my legs.

I feel one of Dallas’s hands remove from my thigh and I look down to see what he was doing. I look down to see Dallas’s mouth still attached to my clit, but his eyes boring into mine with the most seductive look I have ever seen in my life. Without ever looking away from me, Dallas removes his mouth, now just an inch away from me, and takes a little gold foil packet out of his pocket and takes it straight to his mouth. He rips the foil open with his teeth and slides the condom out.

He stands up. His 6 foot 2, god-like stance, looming over me, made me feel so small and helpless on my bed. God, I wish I could be a fly on the wall right now, wanting to see what I might look like. My shirt pushed up, shorts and underwear thrown about the room somewhere, My hair probably a mess, and tears staining my face as Dallas Winston stands over me, slowly unbuckling his belt.

He smirks down at me and he pulls his pants and boxers down, revealing his erection and my god it was big. I honestly didn't know if it was gonna fit inside of me. Right on cue, as if he could read my mind, Dallas says, “Don't be scared darling, you can handle it.”

He goes to put on the condom, but I sit up quickly, grabbing his hand, stopping him. “Can I do it?” I ask him. He looks down at me with hooded eyes and a smirk that could kill.

“Fuck yeah you can.” he says in a breathy tone as he hands me the condom. I take the condom out of his hand and hesitantly grab his dick. A low grumble comes from his throat as I give it a little pump before rolling on the condom.

The second it's on, he pushes me on my back, and comes down on top of me. He starts to position himself at my entrance and looks me in the eyes. “Baby, as much as I want this to last forever, I'm not gonna last very long.” He leans in kissing me hard and chuckles against my lips and I smile at his words. Yeah, me neither.

I take a deep breath and he thrusts inside of me. I clasp my arms around his neck and hug him as close to me as possible. He is big and it hurts so good. I bite into his shoulder again trying to distract myself from the pain, but also from the fact that my orgasm is seconds away and he just got inside of me.

He whimpers in my ear as I kiss his neck profusely. He finds a steady pace that has me borderline drooling. “God Dallas, don't stop. It feels so good.” I barely get out because I can barely catch my breath. I shoot one of my hands out and feel something sharp hit my finger. I look down to see Dallas’s knife still sitting next to us on the bed. It must have nicked my finger. Before I can register what's happened, Dallas takes my bloodied finger and sucks it into his mouth while holding my gaze. His eyes were hooded, and looking drunk off sex.

“Come for me baby. Come on. I know you're there. Show me how good I make you feel.” He begs me. Between his words, and my finger in his mouth, I'm there in a second. Burying my face into his neck, my orgasm rips through me harder than it ever has before. My nails digging into his bicep and a drip of sweat going down my forehead. Dallas still thrusts into me hard and fast for a moment more before he takes my lips into his and I feel his dick twitch as he spills into the condom.

He lays on top of me, breathing heavily in my ear for what feels like an hour, but was probably only a few minutes. He slowly removed himself from me, then pushed up so he was hovering over me again. He smiled down at me as I grabbed his face with my hands, pulling him down to kiss me. His kiss was so gentle, the word love flew through my head, but it was only a fraction of a thought.

I brushed my finger over his cheek bone, before noticing my finger was still bleeding. I brought it to my face, inspecting the cut. It wasn't deep at all. Just a knick. Dallas took my finger to his lips and planted a soft kiss to the cut. Adab of blood coating his lip, only for a second before he licked it off.

“What time are you free tomorrow?” He asks as he nuzzles his face into my neck, no doubt leaving more hickeys.

“Maybe around 7?” I told him. “I just have to go break up with Jack, and then I'm all yours.” I giggled lightly. He came back up and looked at me with the most serious expression I saw all night.

“All mine.” He smiled.

***hope you enjoyed!!!!!!!!! DALLAS WINSTON I LOVE YOU***

[dreamwreaver]

ngl it's surprising to see how many parallels from canon ships Charlastor has with. lucilith, stolitz, Millie x Moxxie (have no clue what their ship name is) and Huskerdust(not canon yet but there's definitely a few similar traits charlastor shares with it)

For a non-canon ship, it sure is similar to a lot of canon relationships

If hazbin was made by literally any other person charlastor would be endgame canon. Viv has made a couple of comparisons about what chaggie is "allegedly" like that I simply don't see. They're like Jack and Sally, no because Sally never told Jack stop being the person you are to please others she actually told him to stop being something your not to try and fill an emotional void.

Oh, they made chaggie canon because the boarders were working on scenes where Charlie is talking to her partner and they just kept drawing vaggie in there because there was so much chemistry. Like, can we see this fucking amazeballs script that had the boarders sticking vaggie in all those moments because from where I'm standing show vaggie doesn't even pass the sexy lamp test. We already know chaggie wasn't originally supposed to be canon because Proto Vaggie was paired with angel dust! So what exactly is so captivating about Charlie and Vaggie's dynamic that they're established canon and yet don't feel like it? And before anyone says "well they've been together a while so it's dumb to expect them to be as passionate as the beginning"

Fizzmodeus. I don't care that Ozzie's the embodiment of lust. Half the time we saw those two together the point of their dynamic was demonstrating how stupidly in love they were while trying to disguise it as simple sexual attraction. And just based off simple math; fizz met Ozzie after becoming mammon's heir right? That clown competition has been held every year since fizz first won it right? And by the time he quits he's been doing it for nearly 10 years. Even being generous and figuring fizz and Ozzie didn't immediately get together I would still wager based on Ozzie's protectiveness, the detailed portrait in his office, the fact that he has a first aid kit with ready to go robotic limb placements it's been at least 5 years they've been together. So in that 5-10 year range they are still so in love it's sickening and obvious enough to everyone that the general reaction to the public finding out was "I knew it!"

And before we say that it was constrained for time, fizzmodeus before season 2 had a song, and Ozzie comforting fizz after he'd been knocked out. And the entire fandom clocked them as a ship. Even if they weren't originally intended to be, like chaggie, like huskerdust too, we can see them as a pre-established couple that STILL has chemistry despite having their own lives and having been together for a while.

Ozzie flat out refused to give stolas a crystal because fizz hated blitz, was trusted enough to be given the details of the worst day of fizz's life, could clock immediately once fizz and blitz had reconciled that this was the person who had his most important person's back and could be counted on. And even though Ozzie didn't like that fizz felt obligated to continue on with the clown thing for mammon, communicated that he didn't like how so many people saw fizz as a product to be bought and enjoyed, didn't like having to be the one in charge of MAKING that product, he never stopped fizz from making his own choices, he supported his partner in MEANINGFUL ways that do not change the essence of who fizz is. He listens and offers support if not solutions, encouragement that their partner can handle themselves and they will be there if needed.

Who does that for Charlie? Who refuses to leave her alone while she falls into a pit of self loathing? Really look Charlie and alastor's screen time in hello Rosie. Alastor is very calculating, and when he chooses to speak is exactly as important as what he chooses to say.

1. He doesn't like seeing Charlie wallow in self pity, as condescending as it likely comes across we already know he loves seeing Vox with his tail between his legs and doesn't believe in Charlie's goals so why wouldn't he take the opportunity to gloat about being right?

2. While he may like to prey on overconfidence in his victims we already know Charlie would have been more than willing to sell her soul for a chance at protecting her people. She was at her lowest point and rather than striking when she was in her darkest most defeated place he chose to wait until she was good and pissed and STILL didn't ask for her soul.

I fully believe he intended to make her mad because being mad means you're more than likely to do something about it. He antagonizes her on purpose so her fire comes back. When they go to Rosie's (which, again, we know he chose because cannibal town caters to Charlie's natural communication style) he only does enough to make sure Charlie's needs are clearly communicated to the overlord and provides a tangible benefit catered to their sensibilities. And when she's fully ready to be herself he does the equivalent of putting his actual heart in her hands. He had every confidence she could convince the other cannibals to join her cause. And then again the night before they could all die; he gives her his mic AGAIN. Charlie and Alastor might as well be pre-established canon because he does all the emotional work of a partner and they work together so seamlessly even when he's doing things she doesn't particularly like she knows why he does business the way he does.

[anotherlibrocubicularist]

'The pjo movies may be more inaccurate than the show, but they were good movies.'

is a sentiment I've seen a lot in the pjo fandom. Since the movies were my introduction to the pjo!verse, I do have a special place in my heart for them while still acknowledging their differences in regards to the originals source material (aka the books). I was foolish enough to buy the second book before the first one to read how the story continues, but had to quickly realize just how much the movie differed from the books.

And yes, I am also one of the people, who, for the longest time, held the opinion that I put in the title of this post. Which is why, once the show was announced, I had high hopes for that particular live-action remake of one of my most beloved fictional universes. These hopes have yet to be fulfilled, but I remain hesitantly hopeful for the second season.

However, with the many differences from the books that I saw in the first season of the show, I want to point out some things that, in my opinion, were ADAPTED better (as in: more accurately) in the movies.

Percy Jackson (at least in terms of his knowledge of greek mythology or rather, his lack thereof and his physical appearance aside from his age)

Percy's relationship with Grover (in the movies there are several instances where Grover fulfills his role of 'protector' and is genuinely seen as Percy's ride-or-die, much unlike the relationship I saw on the show. This is especially important for the second season where Grover forms an empathy link with his most trusted friend to communicate his whereabouts and the show just doesn't give me the vibe where they're close enough for Grover to risk forming that link.

Sally Jackson (yes, her character is mostly wish-fulfillment for neurodivergent kids who wish for their parents' unconditional love without snapping at them or mishandling parenting situations, but as a formerly neurodivergent child now adult, I loved this character so much and the 'realism' I saw with show!Sally was just dissatisfying)

Gabe Ugliano (movie!Gabe is every bit as awful as he was in the books even to the manhunt he instigated by doing an interview on tv, show!Gabe is honestly a let-down)

Sally and Gabe's relationship (no elaboration needed, I think)

Grover (movie!Grover is more accurate to how satyrs are depicted in mythology, at least when it comes to his horniness. And yes, that's not more accurate to the books but if people can go around and praise show!Hades for being closer to real mythology!Hades then I can do the same with Grover. Also how the movies disguised his hooves with giving him crutches was far superior)

Hades (yes, the movie portrayal was not close to the books, but his angerand frustration was depicted really well; the show has him act way too chill and that just has me worried for continuity's sake)

The lotus casino scene (and basically every moment where they had to figure out the threat before defeating it, also the movie scene was entertaining as hell)

The deadline plotline (them missing it was stupid, nough said)

Poseidon (he and Percy had a difficult relationship at the beginning, book!Poseidon would probably not have bowed to Zeus to protect Percy like he did in the show when he forfeited)

The Gods in the throne room on Olympus (in the final scene of the movies they were all tall and ready for battle, makes sense since they readied themselves for a war that was literally about to start. What did we get in the show? They looked way too casual and ordinary for being about to start a world threatening war.)

Feel free to add when you think I've missed things or comment whatever so long as it's constructive and polite.

[shnoob]

Sally Face HC's (How they are at a New Years Party!)

A/N: Happy New Year everybody! I hope everybody has had a good break and may this year bring great things! I have many goals for this year so leave yours below!

C/W: It does include 1 mention of Sal’s mom and dad so if that's a sensitive topic then don't read. Thank you! 

Leave any suggestions if you want to see something specific! 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Larry Johnson:  

First off he’d be the one to host the party with everybody. I believe that once they are all older (with Sal moved out of the apartments with Todd and Niel), the main party would be held at the apartments for nice memories of the group. 

You have to go big or go home, so the entire basement would be decked out for everybody to hang out with mini sections.  

To respect the other residents of the building, a sign would be put down to go to the basement in which the party would be located. (By the help of Ash of course). 

Once I entered the basement a big sign of: “Welcome 2025!” with some goodies such as glasses would be on a big table and enter Larry's apartment. 

Larry himself would be a live, energetic host who makes it a point to say hi to everybody most of them he knows personally. However, those that he doesn't know (such as friends of Ash or Todd) he will welcome in like family as if he's known them for years. 

Kind of like that Uncle you only meet once every tradition which you aren't even sure he’ll show up but you love him on the spot? 

Definitely has some tricks up his sleeve for the party to make it more entertaining. What are those? Some are more noticeable than others such as the “Fruit Punch”, but others such as a pranked toilet will take a while. 

The type of dude who is very persistent at seeing the ball drop, but when it does he either: A. Miss it, or B. Sleeps and doesn't even wake up when everybody is sleeping. There was one year where he didn't miss it (Claimed by him), but there is no hard evidence supporting this. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sal Fisher: 

Sal isn't the type for big parties, he never was. But hearing that everybody he enjoys being around is going (plus the idea he doesn't HAVE to stay the whole time) he decides to go. 

Being the person he is, he shows up on time with Neil and Todd; since they are early they decide to help out with the minor details with Lisa. (Such as cleaning the tables, glasses, etc). 

Ashley has him help out with also putting up the posters making sure that they are held up and not crooked. 

Honestly, all I can see him doing is talking with the people he knows until they decide to have some of their own fun with other substances around them, which then he hangs around in the corners of the room. 

But he does make a few small friends from the parties with people who are like him! 

With the ball drop, I think he thinks it's quite interesting, not like a huge die-hard fan of seeing it but he enjoys spending time with his friends around him and being able to cheer/spend that precious moment with them. 

At the time it's bittersweet since the first thing he may think of is his family, which includes his mom and dad. 

Overall, besides that factor, New Year's Eve is an enjoyable holiday :). 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ashley Campbell:  

I feel like she is one of those people who LOVES New Year's Eve for several reasons.  

Parties; She was a big factor in having this party in the first place and helped Larry convince Lisa to hold the party at the apartments instead of at Sal’s house. 

Second off; It allows her to see everybody again since she moved away :). 

Third off it's just a fun holiday overall!! She is one of those people (like me) who sets goals for the new year and makes a vision board so being able to have a sort of “reset” and “fresh mind” is nice.  

She shows up a little bit later than everybody obviously since she doesn't live close but still shows up before the big wave. 

As mentioned above, Ash contributes a lot to the party decorations such as making the signs and 2025 party hats and buying stuff at Dollar Tree for the glasses. 

She also contributes to drinks, which I believe she likes more fruity juice so that's what most of it will be :P. 

Most of the people there will also be due to her as by her friends from Art School. (She will claim it is a “small crowd” and then 20 people show up LOL). 

Due to her loving New Years, she will be very keen on seeing the ball drop. I feel like when she was younger she didn't get to see the ball drop because her brother had to take care of him and made sure he went to bed (even though he also wanted to see it), so now with free will she's doing everything to the max. 

Definitely will not be riding home that night and be part of the crowd that stays at Larrys till the next morning. 

[certifiedposeidonhater]

PERCY JACKSON HEADCANONS PART 4!! 💙💙

1. He has a list of everyone he has ever hurt, or killed. Nico is second on the list, right next to Bianca. Sally is first.

2. He gets scared and triggered when he accidentally spills or breaks something, even when it’s only him in his cabin

3. He has a lot of quiet moments and flashback where he just remembers all the wars, everyone who died.

4. He has nightmares about Bianca and Nico, and about Beckendorf and Silena

5. Immediately zones out whenever someone starts to yell at him. He can’t control it his emotions just automatically turn off.

6. Gets numb sometimes. His feelings just go away, it takes a while for them to turn back on and he hates that he can’t control it. Usually happens after a bad nightmare.

7. Really good at covering bruises and marks on his skin bc he had practice from G*be

8. He still flinches slightly whenever anyone raises their hand at him. It’s gotten better over the years, but you can still see it if you’re paying close attention.

9. DEFINITELY has high functioning depression

10. People nicknamed him Pretty Boy

11. He can sing really well but he is a STRICT shower/driving singer and he doesn’t sing around anyone else.

12. He can’t taste salt very well so he always orders extra salt on everything

13. He gets TERRIBLE migraines that take him out for whole days at a time

14. Everytime anyone makes a joke about how dumb he is, it actually rlly hurts him, but he’ll never bring it up

15. Cries silently cs he’s used to G*be getting mad at him for expressing emotions. He could be in a crowded room sitting RIGHT next to somebody and he could start crying and nobody would notice unless they were looking at him.

16. He loves kids but is scared to be a father bc of G*be and his dad

17. Percy doesn’t like chaos, even though he thrives in it. He appreciates routine.

18. He accidentally got involved in a drug ring when he was 8. I said this before but g*be would kick him out and there would be older guys wandering the streets, and it was better than being alone so he would hang out with them. But they were involved with some shady stuff so if he was around them, then HE was involved in that shady stuff.

19. He LOVES halloween. He goes all out and has the best decorations and costume every year.

20. Him and Grover have matching shark tattoos that they (illegally) got on Percy’s 14 birthday. They’re behind their ears. Percy somehow kept it from Sally until he was 16.

21. Nico nicknamed him “narcolepsy boy” after Percy once fell asleep in the middle of Piper and Drew screaming at each other.

22. More about the drug dealer stuff: he once got arrested. But before he could even call anyone, a random man bailed him out of jail, then mysteriously disappeared. That man definitely was not related to Triton in any way, shape, or form 😉😉

23. After Nico disappeared, Percy spent 4 days in bed because he was so exhausted and consumed with guilt he couldn’t muster the energy to get up.

24. Him, Silena, and Beckendorf once accidentally burned down one of the cabins. (It totally wasn’t the Apollo cabin. (They totally didn’t use greek fire. (And they DEFINITELY didn’t blame it on the Stolls.)))

25. Once when he was 6, he and his mom visited Montauk. They were hanging out by the beach when his mom went to go get more marshmallows for smores. Percy got distracted and started playing tag with a tiger shark that somehow ended up all the way at Montauk. They were missing for an hour, and when he reappeared, Sally was TERRIFIED. Percy convinced himself that the whole game of tag with the shark was a dream, then he found out who his father was, and realized that it wasn’t a dream.

26. has a very irrational love of the number 8. But his lucky number is the number -584. No one knows why. HE doesn’t even know why.

27. When he can’t sleep, he bakes. So once, when Percy was going through a really bad insomnia phase, he made 4 different cakes in one night.

28. Also bakes when he’s upset. Though, when he’s upset, his baking suddenly specializes in pies. After Apollo showed up and Percy fought the big statue thing, he made a bunch of pies. Sally brought them to work with her that monday, and there was enough for the whole congregation, and there was STILL leftovers.

29. Makes THE BEST bolognese ever. (He got the recipe from his mom.)

30. NEVER drinks water unless it’s the only thing he has. He will always drink soda or coffee.

31. Favorite soda is Dr Pepper, but he is a sucker for Shirley Temples.

32. Has a collection of different Dr Pepper t shirts.

33. Once ate a bag of glitter. It was blue.

34. Tore his esophagus open by throwing up.

35. When Annabeth first said “I love you” to him, he short-circuited and said “thanks.”

36. G*be acc did hurt Sally in front of Percy a few times when Percy was little, but it was so traumatizing and Percy was so young that his brain blocked it out and so he forgot about it until years late

37. Once fractured 3 of his ribs and didn’t notice until MONTHS later

okay hope you guys enjoy. Comment or ask me if you want a more thorough explanation on any of these!

[voltronisanobsession]

Could you do something with Percy Jackson dating a mortal reader and tries to keep them from knowing about demigods and everything for as long as possible please :]

Percy with a Mortal Reader

I’ve had a few thoughts about this concept and I LOVE IT‼️‼️‼️ I definitely wanna write more for Mortal!Reader in the future cuz UGH THE IDEASSS

There were so many different scenarios i could’ve written but I think laying out the simple stuff first was a good move😍

Not proofread (I swear I’ll proofread them eventually💔)

It would be REALLY hard for Percy to keep everything a secret from a mortal!reader

Ever since his life changed since finding out he was a demigod, Percy has tried everything in his power to hide this big secret

As much as this dude would love to tell you about all his adventures, the people he’s met and the places he’s seen, he knows he can’t

That would mean putting you in danger

If he were to tell you everything, there would be no going back. Your life would be filled with new dangers just because you’re with him

So Percy makes the difficult choice in keeping you in the dark about his demigod life 💔

He likes the sense of normalcy you make him feel

With how chaotic his life is already, being able to just lay with you on a night he’s not at camp offers him so much peace he’s been stripped away from

You make him feel like a normal teen living a normal life

This boy cherishes reader so much which is why he wants to protect them from knowing too much

He would rather keep this fake sense of normalcy than ever drag you into his world

But it gets to a point where you definitely notice the distance put between you both

When you were younger, you guys would share anything and everything with each other

But now it feels likes he knows more about you than you do about him

You know he’s hiding something

After all, Percy never really gives you a straight answer whenever you question him where he goes off to every summer

Why you never see him after summer vacation starts

Why he always returns with some kind of bandage and injury on him

Why it seems that even Rachel knows more about your boyfriend than you do😭 It makes you grow suspicious of what Percy’s hiding from you and why

It would definitely be a big cause on why a fight happens between y’all

While he believes keeping this huge thing in his life away from you is the safest choice, you only feel a growing distance settling in your relationship😭💔

“Why can’t you tell me what’s going on Percy? You never tell me anything anymore! It’s like you’re on a whole different world than I am!”

“I’m sorry y/n, I just… I can’t tell you. I can’t.”

“Do you not trust me?”

“No it’s not that! You have to understand that I can’t tell you. Please.”

“Fine.”

Percy wants to tell you. He wants to tell you that he’s a demigod. He wants to tell you of the secret hidden world of the Olympian gods. His heart breaks as you leave him, your own hurt and anger driving you further away.

He didn’t want you to get hurt but in the process, Percy didn’t even realize he was the one hurting you

Sally 100% talks to both of y’all💀

She can’t stand seeing her son heartbroken and you being driven away from the whole situation

Sally suggests you give him some time, he’s really been going through it for the last couple of years💀💔

Percy listens to the advice his mom gives him. Letting you fully into his life is a huge commitment, she knows, but if he wants to keep you in his life, homeboy has to make a choice…

I think Percy would be able to keep being a demigod for a good couple of years tbh

It’s easier coming back and pretending nothing had tried killing him throughout the summer

But alas Percy does crumble and reveal everything to you after a couple of days since his moms convo. He tells you everything with a shaky voice, this dude can’t even look you in the eyes while he’s talking

And You just take it all. You don’t doubt him once, not with the way he looks like he’s telling you his darkest secret (in a way he kinda is?)

After all that fun, you guys grow so much CLOSER cuz now there’s literally no barriers between y’all

You ask so many questions about his life as a demigod and he’s just so happy that you’ve accepted that side of him</3

Does not shut his mouth once he begins telling you of all the quests he went on

And you’re just so concerned on the amount of times this dudes almost died😭😭

A little thought, but he would totally give and teach you how to use a celestial bronze weapon, just in case worst comes to worst💔

OMG

And now because you basically know everything, Percy introduces you to his half brother TYSON😭😭😭😭

LIKE ITS A SHOCK TO FIND OUT PERCY HAS A BROTHER BUT TYSON LOVES YOU SM

Percy is just that happiest boyfriend in the world seeing you get along with his half brother and demigod friends

Despite you being a mortal, Percy has sm faith and confidence in you

You keep his secret safe, sending him iris messages every now and then when he’s at camp, and overall being super supportive of him!!!!

Being apart of this side of his life bought both of you together even closer, but that means you’re stuck with him for a looonnggg time

And you’re not complaining one bit. Not when you get to see your cool boyfriend thrive in this new world you found out was right under your nose

(I feel like finally being told about his demigod life would be such a main character feeing tbh💀)

[mathitas]

Let's say Leo and the other Hephaestus kids found a way to have cellphones without the monsters tracking them.

How would the demigods' Instagrams look like?

(If you want me to headcanon other characters, just comment it! I can make a part 2)

Percy

Knowing this guy, he would probably repost some vines and a lot of 'I love my girlfriend' type of memes.

I think he'd post some stuff when he hangs out with the others, or when something funny happened.

He definitely posted a video he accidentally took of Grover falling, and I just know he posts it again once in a while.

I bet he posts a lot of Tyson, especially as he's grown up, and throughout his mom's pregnancy he dedicated a lot of pictures and stories to her.

And don't even let me start when Sally Jackson gives birth to his little sister and sends her pictures to Percy! He's so proud he posts every single photo of her, even if he's not there. I feel like he'd randomly post pictures of him with Sally holding a tray of blue food saying 'I love my mom'.

I just know this guy's profile is full of friends, family and love. And he has amazing highlights.

He def has a shared bio with Annabeth.

He doesn't post many pics of himself alone.

AND HE'S SO FAMOUS...

Annabeth

She doesn't post much, but when she does it's mainly book or smart quotes she relates to.

She probably shares some architecture she's really passionate about and I feel like she would post some pictures of herself, mainly the ones Percy takes.

Which aren't always good, definitely not.

Percy definitely saw her drooling as she was sleeping after a long quest, and took hundreds of pictures of it. He definitely never let her live this down.

Anyways, I feel like her stories are mainly reposts from Percy's and her friends' profiles.

Still, I just know her profile looks neat and clean, unlike Percy's.

Grover

I was thinking that Grover wouldn't have an Instagram profile, but then I realized something way funnier. He would have one, but an old man kind of profile.

He probably has a low quality picture of a lake as a post (which was published at least 5 years ago), follows his friends, has a bad smiling picture of himself as a profile picture and that's it. That's his profile. Pure old man. He's one with nature, don't judge him. He'd eat his phone if he was hungry enough.

Jason

Here he is, another old man. His profile wouldn't be like Gorver's, but way worse.

He'd be slightly more active... just... random? He probably doesn't even know what he's doing.

I just KNOW he accidentally posts pics of himself from time to time, looking like this and this. Piper usually warns him, and he deletes them. If he knows how to, that is.

Just saying, he never grew up with technology, so he's not really good at it.

He'd have some average quality posts. I think two, or five. Either two or five.

And they're really straight man core.

He'd definitely post himself holding a big ass fish he caught on a fishing trip with Percy and Leo.

I think the other posts are landscapes, maybe some pictures with friends.

He also posts stories, and somehow, some highlights.

They're messy and they don't make any sense tho.

Piper

Her Instagram is amazing. She posts regularly, not a crazy amount.

But she does post funny videos, almost daily.

She definitely has separate highlights with her best friends. I feel like she posts her and Leo being dumb a lot.

She definitely shares music on her profile and makes highlights about it. And she posts lyrics.

Her posts are mostly from trips and friends, they're not too many, but they're great.

She usually posts stories.

Also, her Instagram is probably famous. Leo definitely asked her to post him to get him a partner. She did a whole portfolio of him. It was unsuccessful (Leo, please, get with me).

Leo

SHITPOSTS EVERYWHERE.

His profile is based on humour, vines, memes, shitpost... you name it. His surname would also be something dumb like 'alldaladiesloveleo._". You get the feeling.

His profile picture would probably either be him with sunglasses, and a happy face or him dressed up as spider-man.

He definitely thinks he's spider-man.

I just can see him posting things like this or this. Just... yeah... Leo.

He doesn't have many pictures of himself, probably because he's insecure.

He has some, and it's either with his friends or from some great memories.

He probably thinks he looks weird in them, but he keeps them 'cause they were fun times.

I just know he looks the cutest in them.

AND I ALSO FEEL LIKE HE'D LOOK AWKWARD IN PICS.

Idk, he's either smiling really widely or holding his thumb up awkwardly.

Either way, he doesn't have many followers, unlike Piper, Percy and Annabeth.

Nico

Our third old man.

He wouldn't be that bad, tho, he'd know how to use it. Mainly because Will helps him.

However, he'd post Tumblr quotes. Like, the depressed and sassy ones.

And I'm not saying he does it seriously, there's definitely some irony in it... but I do feel like he kinda relates to all of them...

Idk, I can see him posting this or this.

AND IF HE HAD INSTAGRAM WHEN HE WAS AN ANGSTY KID?!?! THIS. THIS IS WHAT HE WOULD HAVE POSTED. Also this...

Let's just say we're lucky he got Instagram after he settled in Camp Halfblood.

His posts would be full of sarcasm. Everyone thinks he means every single one of his posts, but that just pushes him to post more.

He's having fun, and Will probably sent him the worst ones, telling him to post them. They definitely got some people worried.

He has a good amount of followers somehow, and he only reposts when he feels like it. He probably has a shared bio with Will, and an highlight dedicated to him.

Will

I think he would also post some funny videos, it's not common, but he does. He probably posts some animal videos that made him crack up. Like this one (I'm only putting it because I literally couldn't stop laughing because of it. It is my favorite video on the internet. And yes, my brain is rotting.)

Like I said, he has a shared bio with Nico, and he'd also have a dedicated highlight for him.

I feel like he posts some candid moments with Nico. And yes, I'm talking about taking a pic of your s/o eating and posting it. It's cringe but he loves it. Nico despises it.

He'd also post some friends and has some pictures of him and his siblings at the infirmary.

I feel like he'd have a good amount of followers, and he posts some pics of himself.

He's so pretty, and his pictures are blessings! Nico definitely stalks his profile just to look at them again and again. He probably has them saved too.

Frank

He's reposting the whole WWF page.

I feel like he'd also post some candid moments with Hazel, but definitely not cringy ones like Will.

He probably blocked Leo.

He has a few pictures of him posted, but you can't see him really well.

He posts about the stuff he's doing and archery and his page is pretty serious and interesting overall.

His profile pictures is unclear, but you can kind of see him in it.

He doesn't have many highlights, maybe one with Hazel.

He doesn't post often, but idk, he's just chilling in his instagram.

Hazel

She also comes from the past, so she's not good at technology. Frank helps her with almost everything on her profile.

After she learnt, she started posting videos of animals doing stuff, tagging Frank, saying it's him.

He pretends to be annoyed at first but he thinks it's really cute.

She doesn't have any highlights but she has some posts (Frank posted them for her).

Also, her profile picture is her and Frank smiling during a best friend hang out. It was before they got together.

Idk, to me they seem like the sweet couple that everyone admires. They're not too clingy, but they are a power couple. Their Instagrams, tho? They do look clingy.

[fayes-fics]

It Had To Be You: Chapter 9 - Nobody Else Gave Me A Thrill

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: You two finally figure it all out on New Year's Eve...

artwork credit @colettebronte

Warnings: none, really… just some swearing and love confessions.

Word Count: 3.8k

Authors Note: A multi-chapter modern rom-com retelling of When Harry Met Sally. Here we are; this is the final chapter! Both reader and Benedict finally see the truth. There will be a short, hopefully humourous epilogue to this story as well, which I will post tomorrow. Thanks to @colettebronte for betaing. I hope you have all enjoyed this fic <3

For the next few weeks, the dreary weather, the clocks changing, and the chilly nights drawing in match your sullen mood. Your argument with Benedict at the wedding made you so sad but resolute to try and put it behind you.

It's the last weekend in November when you are buying a Christmas tree that you feel the worst. Making a mess of dragging the tree back to your place alone, leaving a trail of needles behind you, you stop halfway and slump onto a doorstep. Recalling with perfect clarity how you and Benedict had bought one together from the same man the previous year, laughing carefree as you easily carried it between you. Then you drank mulled wine as you haphazardly threw on lights and ornaments, dancing to cheesy Christmas songs. It's what you miss the most—his companionship, the ease of time spent with one of your favourite people.

Just as you are wrestling the tree through your front door, exhausted, sweaty and prickled by a thousand tiny shitty needles that seem to have it out for you, your phone pings with a message.

BB: I'm sorry for how things ended at the wedding. I've been thinking about it for weeks now. Please call me. I want to talk. 

Pride (and your current disastrous had-a-fight-with-a-tree-and-lost appearance) stops you from doing what you genuinely want to—picking up your phone and Facetiming him to sort it all out.

Not ready yet.

__

Two weeks later, it's mid-December, and you are sitting cross-legged on your living room floor with a big glass of wine, wrapping presents for friends, when your phone pings again. For a while now, almost every day, he has been sending links to Insta posts with adorable and hilarious content. Each of which you have enjoyed but couldn't bring yourself to reply to. This time, it’s a message.

BB: If you are available at the moment, please call me.

You stare at the little pop-up notification and take a gulp, a weird weight in your chest at the idea you might cave this time. Perhaps. Once you are done wrapping this gift. A few minutes later, your phone pings again.

BB: Okay, I assume no call means:

BB: (A) you can't take a call right now

BB: (B) you can, but you don't want to talk to me or 

BB: (C) you desperately do want to talk to me but are trapped under something heavy

BB: If it's A or C, please call me back later, doesn't matter what time

BB: Also, if it’s C, please call 999 if you are in danger, then call me after. I don't have any heavy-lifting equipment… 

You can't help but giggle at his gentle, silly humour, attempting to diffuse the tension. A large part of you wants to call; you even have the phone in your hand, but at the last minute, you rest it against your forehead with a sigh, something stopping you. Your stupid rebound fling being the biggest one, Benedict’s cutting remark about how quickly you let someone else into your bed, making your stomach roil. 

Still not ready yet.

—

“Obviously, she doesn't want to speak to me,” Benedict laments, his words muffled into a scatter cushion on Kate and Anthony’s sofa. 

It's the morning after they've returned from honeymoon, three days before Christmas. While they are thankful Benedict popped over with some basics to make breakfast, they could do without his melancholy—they’re much more about a ‘let’s have newlywed sex on the kitchen table’ vibe.

“What do I have to do? Get hit over the head? Be in some calamitous accident?” Benedict whines, twisting his head in aggravation as if trying to burrow himself head-first into the furniture.

‘What do we do?’ Anthony mouths to Kate, who throws her hands up defeatedly.

‘How should I know?’ she mouths back, frowning. ‘He's your brother.’

‘Your friend's fault,’ Anthony shoots back.

Kate crosses her arms and gets a look like a sour lemon, and he instantly regrets that line.

Benedict lifts his head to look up at them, and she has to stifle a giggle behind her hand at the deep red imprint of the cushion zipper on his forehead.

“If she wants to talk to me. She will call me back, right? I'm done with making an idiot of myself….” Benedict claims boldly.

__

You are sitting on the sofa at your childhood home early evening on Christmas Day, almost disgustingly full of Baileys (your mum's tipple of choice on this day) and Christmas pud, watching The Wrong Trousers - a family tradition - when your phone pings with a message.

It's from Benedict and your stomach vaults. You honestly thought after more than a week of silence, he had given up trying. And part of you was so sad. There is no text this time, just a video attachment. You excuse yourself to the downstairs cloakroom, taking a seat on the closed lid of the toilet, intrigued as to what it is.

The video starts with him looking directly into the camera, his handsome face filling the frame and making your stomach swoop again. Fuck, you have missed seeing it.

“Merry Christmas y/n. I hope you are having a nice time. I miss you, and I hate how we left things,” he opens honestly, “and when Bridgertons don't know what to do, we always act stupidly. It's our ‘thing’. So here, You can blame this on my genetics...”

The video cuts to black briefly and then fades into him, a huge 6ft lump, crowded behind a plastic toy piano on the floor, probably one of Daphne’s kids' toys. You instantly giggle at the ridiculous visual as he apes a maestro, closes his eyes as if about to play Chopin, and flexes his hands. Then, the tinny, electric sound of some familiar notes being played hesitantly begins. He isn't exactly a natural pianist.

“Hey, I didn't just meet you, And this is crazy, 

You know my number, So call me maybe,

It's hard to feel right without you, lady

You know my number, so call me, maybe…”

You are instantly laughing. He's such an adorable, charming idiot. Sitting behind a miniature plastic piano and playing, half in earnest, half in jest. At least his voice can hold a semi-decent tune. It brings an affectionate mist to your eyes even as it continues…

“Before you came into my life, I missed you so bad

I missed you so bad; I missed you so, so bad

Before you came into my life, I missed you so bad

And you should know that, I miss you now… so, so bad….”

For the last few words, he slows down the song and looks directly down the lens pointedly.

Something in his pleading look is the straw that breaks the camel's back proverbially, and with a slight tremor in your hand, you scroll to his name and hit the FaceTime button before you can think twice about it. The sound of the tone, as it rings, feels so loud, and each crisp ‘bringggg’ makes your nerves jangle. Just as you are about to hang up, the call connects.

“I'm sorry it took me so long to answer. I had to find a private spot.” he sounds a little winded.

“Where are you?” you frown, an unfamiliar background behind him.

“My childhood bedroom. Aubrey Hall.”

“Oh my god! Show me!” You enthuse, your initial equivocation derailed by nosiness, which you decide to frame instead in your mind as mere curiosity.  You never got to see it the wedding weekend for, well, reasons you don't want to dwell on right now.

He quickly flips the camera around, giving you an audio-guided tour of the room he grew up in. Dark blue walls with framed posters for his beloved Blur alongside Travis, Radiohead and Shaun of the Dead. Silly stick-on glow-in-the-dark stars on the high ceiling that are likely too high for anyone to bother getting out a ladder and peeling off. Shelves with little wooden car models he made with his dad before he died, mixed in with certificates of achievement from school, shiny brass archery trophies, and his early sketches in those cheap snap-in frames. And lastly, a collection of jagged small rocks and colourful pebbles. It makes you feel so very affectionate for little teenage Benedict.

“You are bloody adorable!” you blurt out, almost forgetting all the awkwardness from the past few weeks.

The camera flips around, and his lopsided grin fills the screen. “Thank you. I try to make a habit of it…”

You smile back and then sigh. “I’ve missed this,” you confess quietly, wistfully. 

“I’ve missed this too. You. Us. Can we please be friends again? Please? I know we both have a lot of things to talk about. With that night and all… but… can we reset? I need you, Bluey. I am miserable without my best friend,” he pouts, his raw honesty making your chest ache. 

It’s exactly how you feel, too. Except with a massive pang of regret that he seems to want to forget your magical night together. Sex is never like that, at least not for you—electric and addictive. Doing a reset to save your friendship feels like the most logical step. Still, it doesn’t stop the “what if” fantasies running in your head with increasing frequency, especially on a day like today—nostalgia, sentiment and overindulgence swirling in your being. 

“I would like us to be friends again,” you exhale, a lie by slight omission, drumming your fingertips on your cheek nervously to stop you from saying more. 

“Wonderful! Then it is so! I can’t wait to see you again! Are you going to the New Year's party? The one Simon & Daph are hosting at the Sky Terrace? Cos if you are, I was wondering, if you don’t have a date if we could go together? We always said we would be each other's plus one if neither of us is with anyone…”

That he wants to completely reset to that world makes your heart crack. You want to scream at him, ‘No! I want to be your real date! Pick me, for real, this time!’

“I… can’t do that,” you waver, and it comes off sounding tired.

“You have a date?” It’s soft, hesitant, trepidatious.

“No…” you admit, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea to go together like that. I… I can’t be your consolation prize anymore, Benedict,” you blurt out, the hurt taking over your tongue.

The look of stunned surprise on his face makes it worse. As if he had never even seen it from that perspective.

“That’s not what I….” he begins but is interrupted by a loud door bang as it slams into the wall and a yelling voice.

“Stop fucking hiding and get your bloody arse back downstairs. You can’t miss family dinner on Christmas Day!” Colin scolds loudly offscreen.

“I’ve got to go…,” he sighs reluctantly as an arm manhandles him up and off the bed. “Merry Christmas,” he adds, belatedly realising you both forgot to say it earlier on the call.

“Whoever it is, hang up. No one is more important than family on Christmas,” Colin gripes. “That’s it, I’m taking your phone…”.

The screen is filled with random shapes and loud noises as they seem to wrestle like children. And then the call suddenly disconnects. 

You sigh and tip sideways against the cold tile of your parents' cloakroom wall.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

__

Benedict takes stock of his surroundings. December 31st, 11:00pm, lying on his stomach on his sectional chaise, staring up at the big flatscreen on his wall.

This isn't so bad… he tries to convince himself. I've got Jools Holland’s Hootenanny - the only decent New Year's programme, some Glenfiddich and Mini Cheddars - the best snack there is… 

He sighs and realises how pathetic he sounds, even in his own mind, alone in an empty flat.

__

The man whirls you around, and you are almost thrown straight into Kate and Anthony.

“I should never have let you drag me to this,” you grouse so only they can hear.

They both shoot you an apologetic look until you are whipped away again. This man’s dancing style is more akin to a waltzer amusement ride than anything sensual or fun. Your shoulder is already aching. It's a far cry from the surprising salsa Benedict pulled out of the bag last New Year’s Eve. And the idle thought of him has you spiralling…

“Mind if we stop?” you puff as the band finishes the song with a flourish. He’s some slick European investment banking type, and really, you couldn't give two shits about offending him, merely your ingrained politeness kicking in.

He nods and goes off to grab drinks as you stand, hands on hips, trying to gather your breath as you watch all the people moving like a mass of limbs on the crowded dancefloor as the following number begins.

Why the fuck am I here?

__

This is much better… Benedict rationalises to himself as he wanders down the rainy, empty East London streets not far from his Hoxton pad. Who needs to be at a big, crowded party pretending to have a good time?

He pauses outside a trendy shop on Old St, selling overpriced crap that he's not even sure what it is.

See? I can do some window shopping. He tells himself silently—clutching at anything to distract himself from the creeping sense of dread in his gut. A slow twisting knife as he thinks about you dancing the night away, ringing in the New Year with some fancy, handsome man who definitely doesn't deserve you.

What does it matter to me? We are just friends. Best friends… the only friend I ever want to see every day… the only one who truly matters….

He has thought about how to repair the damage between you so much over the last few weeks that he's exhausted himself. Really, he just wants you back. All of you, ideally, but being realistic, any part of yourself you will let back into his life. The suggestion of a reset he made on Christmas Day being his cowardly way out.

—

You are fake laughing at the banker’s story as you lean around the pillar you are backing yourself against in an attempt to secure more personal space. Glad of the heated lamps and the glass overhang to shelter from the drizzle.

“I'm going home,” you growl.

“You’ll never find an Uber,” Kate points out deadpan as you turn back around and keep faking amusement.

__

Just as his thoughts spiral, Benedict hears a chuckle on the other side of the road. There, a couple are laughing together, wrapped in each other's arms, kissing, looking like no one else in the world matters… and it’s like a lightning rod hits him square in the chest.

Suddenly, all he can see are images of you, fluttering like motioned-filled playing cards from above, swirling into his eyeline, then floating onto the glistening pavement around him. Vignettes of his life and where you intersect at so many pivotal moments. The day he left uni - the car ride where you bickered like an old married couple, the day he moved to Paris - your dilated pupils and hitched breath on the Eurostar when he whispered in your ear, the unerring sympathy when you heard about his divorce, the way you held his hand when you wandered after dinner somewhere (he doesn't even recall where… only that it was with you), watching movies together on FaceTime, your incredulity when he confessed to his uneventful recurring sex dream, your surprise and, yes, arousal as he led you in the salsa dance, the way you tucked so neatly into his arms haunting him. And finally, how it felt to be buried inside your gorgeous body as you clung to him, calling his name like a siren song, intimacy like he has never known, the profundity of the connection petrifying the very life out of him. 

But as he stares down at his tatty old Converse, the same ones he wore the day you met, in fact, all he sees in the puddle beneath him is the simple truth he has been in denial about, possibly for a decade or more. Rippling refractions of your face - your knowing smile, bright eyes, your wonderful, happy expression…

And before his brain acknowledges it, his feet are moving….

Walking fast…

Then it’s a jog…

Then it’s a run….

.. his feet carrying him to the one place he knows with every fibre of his being he wants to be.

—

You wander as if in a daze, seemingly surrounded by nothing but couples, kissing, dancing, whispering, and it's the final straw. You spy Kate and Anthony sipping champagne together and slope over.

“I'm going,” you sigh.

“But it's almost midnight,” Anthony protests.

“Being surrounded by people kissing is just…” you shrug, melancholy creeping in like a clingy fog around your heart.

“I’ll kiss you,” Kate placates, and Anthony perks up to no end at that suggestion, nodding enthusiastically as you both roll your eyes, bemused. “Stay? Please?” she pleads, pouting and grabbing your hands.

“Thanks, Kate. But no. I have to go. Have a wonderful night,” you bid them, kissing her gently on the cheek. “Happy New Year,” you whisper as she returns the greeting.

__

Benedict's lungs are burning as he races down Old St towards Shoreditch, not far from where you celebrated last year. He ignores the ache in his muscles and keeps going, checking his watch to see 11:56pm and racing harder.

I need to be there at midnight!

__

As you walk to pick up your coat, a sight makes your heart leap into your mouth and stops you dead in your tracks.

There, rounding the top stair, casual in old faded jeans, those ancient Converse and a chunky knit jumper… is Benedict. Hair fluffy and dishevelled from the rain, out of breath and scanning the crowd desperately. As if he is seeking someone.

Then his eyes finally land on you, and your world tilts. 

Oh god, is he here… for… me?!?

Then he is striding purposefully towards you, and it seems like the crowds part. His eyes blisteringly intense, like they were on that fateful night. You try to school your face, aiming for casual indignance; you probably fail spectacularly— your heart thumping wildly.

“I've been doing a lot of thinking…” he begins as he pulls up before you. “And the thing is… I love you..”

Everything grinds to a halt, and your head feels dizzy.

This must be a prank, surely?

“What?” you stutter, disbelief rocking your core.

“I love you,” he says with a simple shrug as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ben.. I… what do you expect me to say?” you blurt out, floored.

“How about you love me too,” he smiles a tiny fraction, and you hate it.

You hate how RIGHT he is. Your body is a total jumble of live wires, but your mind is suddenly calm. It's like the clouds of your thoughts part, and it all seems crystal clear. And yet, something in your stubborn heart won't let you admit it. Terrified what it could mean to voice it.

“Look, Ben, I know it's New Year, and I know you may be lonely tonight. But please don't do this,” you implore haltingly, tears prickling hot in the corners of your eyes, “...not like this,” you whisper, defeated.

“Okay, how about like this….” he throws his hands up. “I love that you won't admit you love me. I love that you are looking at me like you want to kill me right now. I love that my body is screaming at me cos I ran here as fast as I could.” he gestures down at his slightly shaky legs.

“Ten seconds to New Year's!!” a loud voice blares out over the speakers.

“TEN!!” the crowd chants.

“I love that we are idiots who would never admit to how in love we are.”

“NINE!”

“I love that you are my blue lobster, rare and beautiful as a diamond but a delicious soft treat under that hard as nails shell….” 

“EIGHT!”

He tilts your chin to look up at him, a thumb swiping a tear you didn't even know had escaped. 

“SEVEN!”

“Don't leave me out here in the wind, y/n…,” he murmurs softly.

“SIX!”

“I… I love that you never give up,” you whisper so quietly even you can barely hear it. 

The smile that lights up Benedict’s face makes your whole being feel like the stars live inside your chest.

“FIVE!”

“I love that you take homemade salads on a road trip,” he smirks playfully, referring to the first day you spent together all those years ago.

“FOUR!” 

“I love that you kept your amazing dance prowess under wraps,” you laugh over a stilted snuffle, everything in you fizzling.

“THREE!”

“I love that I can still smell you on my clothes after we spend the day together,” he sighs, moving in closer, your eyes hypnotised by the movement of his cupid’s bow.

“TWO!”

“I love that you came here tonight,” you admit, your hands circling his forearms as you sway slightly in unison.

“ONE!”

“I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night,” he confesses, his lips ghosting over yours now, smiling crookedly even as he speaks.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!” the crowd chants.

All around you, party poppers go off, colourful ribbons of streamers, and the sound of glasses clinking fills the air. But it’s background noise, your whole focus on each other.

Finally, your lips meet, the fireworks under your ribs matching those in the skies above, the same as it was that first time weeks ago. You melt into each other's embrace, your kiss a seal of a pact and the promise of something new and infinite.

“For the record,” he rumbles, his minty breath hot on your lips, the strains of Auld Lang Syne ringing around the rooftop. “I'm not saying this because I’m lonely and not because it’s the New Year. I came here tonight because when you finally realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start…”

“...as soon as possible,” you exhale, completing his sentence with him as he nods, grinning from ear to ear. 

The drunken chorus around you gets louder; he chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ve never understood this stupid song.”

“I think it’s about remembering not to forget. Or not forgetting to remember. Or something,” you peal a laugh, knowing you are talking gibberish and not giving a damn. “Anyway, it’s about old friends,” you add pointedly, moving in for another spine-tingling, heart-melting kiss.

As you part, he cradles your jaw in his hands. “It was only ever you, y/n,” he sighs, hazy eyes burning into yours, his whisper fervent but contented into your skin. “It had to be you.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies