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mediumgayitalian · 1 month

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“Oh, fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You still okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cut it out or I’m telling Mom!”

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

“Wha — you do so!”

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

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

“And you deserved it,” she says primly.

He gapes. “I did not!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Literally no.”

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

“Hey, guys. Sorry for the wait.”

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

“Hey, Will.”

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

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

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

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

She shrugs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You look overworked,” Annabeth says quietly.

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

“You said.”

“It’s just busy, is all.”

“Yeah, but —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shoot.”

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

Annabeth’s head rests on his shoulder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nico!”

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

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

“Nico! Hi!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Will’s face is a similar shade.

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

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

“That better?” he asks softly.

Nico swallows. “Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yo, di Angelo, you alive?”

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

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

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

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

“Your face!” Percy shrieks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, I earned that.”

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

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

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

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naffeclipse · 10 months

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Heya Naff!

Just had this little idea snippet pop to mind and I thought I’d share it with you cuz it’s kinda reminiscent of Lack of Light and I guess a little of Cryptid Sightings too.

So, what if Y/N for some reason or another ends up in a dark cave, not in any danger, but maybe just there to destress and have some calm, quiet time. Then they hear an ominous voice (Moon or Eclipse probably), but never see whom it belongs to. They make rather interesting conversation and despite Y/N’s curiosity, the voice warns that it's for the best Y/N doesn’t know what they look like, lest their appearance frightens them.

Over time and many more visits they become good friends. Y/N is always one to confide in them about their troubles and hardships, and the ominous voice replies with comfort and advice. Reversely on the rare occasion the voice opens up, Y/N is able to cheer them up with a lighthearted kindness and maybe some humour thrown in.

Eventually Y/N gets curious enough and the voice's owner is revealed. They are indeed a little unsettling to say the least, but Y/N is able to remind themselves that this creature/thing is their friend and the encounter goes smoothly.

From then on Y/N is also adamant of giving lots of hugs and cuddles, no matter how scary they seem. And tho the creature doesn’t say it, they do appreciate it.

Idk, I’m just soft for making friends with something scary / otherworldly that doesn’t get much love otherwise ^^ with a touch of secret, almost imaginary friend when you don’t have any others

But yeh, that’s all for now :) Hope you're well and have a lovely day/night, dear Naff <3 PS: haven’t gotten to CS chapter 19 yet, but hope to soon. From the little I know of you making people cry or something, I’ll be sure to have some tissues or a pillow at the ready :’) /lh

Hey, Piixel, I love this idea so much that I wrote a little something based on it! I hope that's alright! (If for any reason you want me to delete it, say the word and I will.)

Umbrage Embrace

Shadow Monster!Eclipse x Reader (SFW)

You can’t speak. You bury your face in your hands, arms scraping against the bark of the willow. A terrible tremble falls over you as the gush of tears leaks past your defenses and down your cheeks. It doesn't matter that it’s pitch dark in the forest save for the barest splatters of moonlight nor that you hide away. You will not see Eclipse. He, however, sees you.

Word Count: 3,800~ Warnings: Anxiety and hurt/comfort.

A/N: This is based on @piixelpaint's ask which you can read here! (you're already here.) Their idea inspired me so much that I had to write a little something for it, and I do love creatures who hide and give comfort and maybe wish for a little comfort in return but are terrified of scaring away their human beloved. Eclipse fits this type of monster perfectly. I also was in a headspace of wanting to address some anxiety and explore some sweet hurt/comfort! Enjoy!

#shadow mosnter!eclipse #eclipse x reader #ao3 link #lack of light #okay piixel you don't understand how much i love this #when you sent it in i almost responded to it immediately but then i stopped and said to myself “this deserves a proper fic” alsdjfalsdf #i hope you like it #i did make a little change of it not being in a cave so I hope that's alright #anyways i hope you have lovely day/night too *mwah*#FORGOT THE LINK AHHHHHHH #IT'S THERE NOW

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hedwig221b · 1 year

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Derek leaned forward, trapping Stiles between his naked arms. His scent was so concentrated, it overwhelmed Stiles. “You will come back to me?”

Stiles could stare at his eyes for hours, watch the pools of magnificent colors unite into one symphony that caught him in their trap so long ago. There was poorly concealed desperation in Derek’s gaze, in the beginning of a wrinkle between his brows and his tense jaw.

Because, while Stiles had his dad and his dad had the booze, Derek didn’t have anyone.

He and Stiles were similar in that way; they found each other, stranded in an ocean of loneliness and refused to let go for the fear of drowning.

“Yeah,” Stiles said, feeling his breath reach Derek’s lips.

Then Derek leaned forward even more and closed the distance.

The kiss was light and chaste, despite the heat of Derek’s lips and breath; it was more a promise and a plea, combined in one tender touch. Derek seemed to be content just by being so close to him. Wolves, as Stiles found out from the books, were known for being touchy-feely, it’s how they spread their scent on loved ones to offer support and provide safety. It put a lot of what Stiles had witnessed these past few days in a different perspective. Derek was, probably, most certainly, touch-starved.

Stiles felt like he was taking advantage a little. Derek craved touch — probably any touch, and Stiles was there and willing to provide it because of his hunger for Derek.

He was scared to let the hope of Derek reciprocating his true feelings blind him. For now he will be what Derek needed and if it turns out to be everything, then… Stiles would gladly give every single bit of himself to Derek.

They separated, but didn’t sway far, still drunk on each other, despite the innocence of their kiss.

“Stay,” Derek rumbled quietly, unable to look away from his face and lips in particular. “Just for a few days. Then I’ll drive you.”

Stiles just nodded. His chest felt like an inflated balloon, ready to be popped.

Derek scooped him up into his arms, pressed their bodies together. Stiles readily put his arms around Derek’s shoulders and hummed into Derek’s neck, closing his eyes from the pleasure of a simple human contact.

He would never get tired of hugging Derek. He was fully committed to becoming a leech.

Once again, he didn’t care. Just let Derek be near him, that’s all.

excerpt from Wait for Me

#i know this is my fic but i literally forgot how much they love each other in it #sterek #sterek fic #sterek fic rec #sterek fanfic #sterek fanfiction #eternal sterek #stiles x derek #derek x stiles #stiles stilinski #derek hale #my fics #hedwig221b #alpha derek hale #sterek au #sterek is eternal #sterek kiss #hurt/comfort

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aioliravioli-69 · 19 days

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Detective Noir AU

Alright, this au has been sitting around, waiting for me to finish it but chances are, I never will :((

So instead, I'll just post what I have so far

This was inspired by that one comment on the au post the author made(at this point you could consider me a stalker for the amount of hours I've scrolled through her feed💀)

First things first, none other than our main character himself, Detective Hollow!

I made him the detective in this one mainly because I was basing it off of the theory that if there was no heroine the keyholder would simply become the hero instead(don't remember where I read this but I'm guessing it was the webtoon comment section).

I also my have just really wanted to draw him in an overcoat

gonna be honest, I did little to no research going into this AU, the thing I most tried to learn about was the femme fatale so I could get a good view on how to design Buddy

Speaking of the femme fatale:

Seems like someone got caught in the spotlight!

And before you ask, yes, those are pants. Weird ones, but pants nonetheless. I swear, I hate lighting when it's from the front. Frontal lighting can go fuck itself. Please ignore the little help lines I put in

Honestly, Buddy's outfit was probably the hardest part of this one. I wanted him to look slutty, but I didn't want to make it TOO slutty, but I feel like I may have added WAYY too many folds in his pantsuit and I kinda messed up on the overcoat lol. The diamond on his chest was inspired by the diamond on the villainess key more than anything and I tried to incorporate that into his gloves too.

Anyway, have some potential outfit sketches I made:

the two I thought might come off as too slutty and

the ultimate winner of the outfit ideas

As you can see the diamond chest window and fur coat were a mut in this outfit and I'm pretty happy with the end result

Y'all know how the femme fatale usually has to seduce the main character a.k.a. the detective?

Well, y'all know me so have an extra just for you <33

But I'm not done just yet!

Remember how I said that I made Chase the hero because of the lack of a heroine in the story? Well...

I did some more surface level research(and I mean very surface level) and decided to adapt the trope of the girl-next-door archetype for him!!

Don't think it suits him, since they usually just sit pretty and wait for the detective to notice them, but they do have badass roles once in a while and I live for those!!!

The one Chase has taken on doesn't though sadly :')

I decided to go with Charlie Hollow for this one because it sounded more like something the timid and 'pure'(yuck I know, but sadly film noir movies often prop up comparisons between the femme fatale and the girl-next-door, this being one of them) girl next door would have

Overall I tried to make this one as cutesy as possible because, why not lol

Lastly(I apologise, I made this in a rush because I was running out of motivation)

The distance between Buddy and the detective sure did close QUICK-

Originally I was planning on adding Deacon as a police officer and now that I think about it I could technically fit Prunella in here as well, but I just don't have any willpower left to keep this thing alive

My art blocks been acting up recently and I can't even pick up the pencil without immediately wanting to put it down :((

I wish I could have continued this and maybe I will someday, but until then this'll just stay in my drafts

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barclaysangel · 1 month

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Y’all remember the “Junior Wheeler if he was 9 years old during Chucky season 1” AU that I made?

Well, I reread the oneshot that I wrote for that this morning and I suddenly really missed the AU…so how would y’all feel if I wrote more of it?

If you guys want that, here’s the thing…I don’t have too much ideas. I have a few but not a lot. So while this isn’t technically a “Request something and I’ll 100% write it” thing, but if you have some ideas, pls tell me and I may write it.

So yeah, lemme know pls :)

#I forgot how much I loved this AU until I reread it #It was so cute #And the opportunity to write Andy and Nica raising little Junior?#Far too good to pass up #So please comment and let me know!#Luna talks #admin #chucky #chucky 2021 #junior wheeler #Little Junior AU #Little Junior Wheeler #Little Junior #Little Junior Wheeler AU #AU #Chucky fic

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desceros · 5 months

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Requesting a reader watching bayverse donnie work. Platonic or romantic, up to you, just thinking the way you write visual poetry would work good with explaining Donnie’s little work motions.

bay donnie, my beloved [strokes the picture of him i keep in a locket] donatello/reader; gn reader; rated t

Donnie is good with his hands.

He’s also a sweetheart who patiently tolerates you spending literal hours of your life staring at him, chin propped up on your hands as you watch his work their magic. He’s repairing some piece of tech off his shell that had apparently gotten battered in their last tussle, and it looks like actual witchcraft from where you’re sitting.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” you gush as he glides some sort of metallic piece into place like it isn’t the size of a pencil eraser, the tiny little tweezers looking comically small in his hands and yet acting like an extension of him.

Donnie huffs a laugh, glancing briefly at you out of the corner of his eyes, his gaze warm and intimate even for its short span. “What brought that on, all of the sudden?”

Adoringly, you watch him weave wires into place as easily as Raph knits those cute little scarves for everyone. It’s like he’s not even trying, you think, fully entranced. The electronic world at his hands is a tiny little microcosm of a universe, and he, its god for how effortlessly he creates and moves its parts. You think of all his tech, all around you; how easy it is to forget the mastery required to pull it all together, to maintain it, to treat machine as a medium of art.

“You’re just… amazing,” you repeat, helpless to say anything more without dropping a complete dissertation on the totality of space Donatello has taken as his own in your soul. “The way you can… Just make things. Out of nothing. It’s. It’s really incredible.”

“Is that why you’re always in here?” he asks, lips quirked up into a little smile that feel a bit like a tease. “To watch me make things?”

“Well, it doesn’t hurt that you’re easy to look at, either,” you confess, twirling a finger along the surface of his desk shyly. It’s not the first time you’ve flirted with him, and it’s not the first time you’ve watched him bloom under your attention; but it’s new, enough, that it takes a bit of bravery, still.

“That’s good to hear. I was worried you were only in here for my tech, for a second there,” he says, and only the knowledge that he knows it isn’t true keeps you from swan diving into a lecture about otherwise.

Licking your lips, you slide your palm over your mouth as if muffling your next sentence will make it less dangerous to say. “I… could be in here just for you. If… you wanted me to. If… If you’d let me.”

“Let you?” he echoes in surprise, finally looking away from the delicate electrical work in his hands so his hazel gaze meets you full on. “You do realize you’re the only other person allowed in here, right?”

Butterflies catching in your throat, you shift your weight from one hip to the other and swallow. “I-I know. But—”

Donnie narrows his eyes as he studies you, leaving you feel a bit like a specimen under a microscope. Still, you let him, because any amount of his attention feels good, even if it means peeling off your skin and letting him see the way your heart has changed to the shape of him.

“—But I want to know,” you admit quietly, pressing the pads of your fingers to your lips before they fall to the table to trace anxious shapes. “…That it’s different. For me.”

Donnie’s face smooths a little as he understands what you’re asking of him, and smooth as silk, he dips in close and brushes his lips against yours. It’s gentle enough to make you gasp, shocked that something can be so soft and still raise sensation, every hair on your arms standing at attention from the sheer intimacy of it. Leaning in, you seek more, slotting your mouth under his and inviting him closer to your hummingbird heartbeat.

His hands cup your jaw, pulling you towards him, holding you in place as he tilts his head and sinks further into you. He tastes sweet, you think dreamily, sighing out and curling your fingers on the edge of his plastron.

“It’s different,” he murmurs against your mouth, his lips catching yours for how much he can’t bear to pull away now that he’s gotten started; like now that he’s allowed himself to have you, he’s never going to let you go. The thought makes you smile and laugh, because oh, how could he ever think you’d want to leave?

“You’re amazing,” you sigh out again, and this time, he laughs, his hands finding you instead of his tools.

#ask tag #tmnt #bayverse #my fic #[clangs pots and pans together] i love donnie in case anyone forgot in the last five minutes that i loudly exclaimed how much i love donnie #donatello/reader #rating: t

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raayllum · 7 months

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so we both originally hate elves and are the siblings of a monarch of katolis who we lose, and we're devoted to protecting the border and humanity at all costs, even when it comes to sacrificing the personal safety of our young charges, and i'll lie to you and you'll lie right back to me and we both knew king harrow equally well and mourned queen sarai, we both interrogate restrained children who slip up and say "we" when we know they should be alone in their endeavours, when we both respond to loss by being closed off and isolationist and "stoic strong and lonely" only for you to get out earlier than i could even begin conceptualizing for myself, we're both snarky and sharp witted in ways other can find insensitive or callous, "i would've asked you to choose the egg over my own life if you had to" / "but amaya you won't survive [...] she said the rest of us will," we're both taken captive and submitted to the light trial by the sunfire elves, only i kill one sunfire queen and you protect a future one, and we ultimately advocate that "we gain nothing if we throw away the chance to learn and grow" and "no matter where you are on the path, every step forward is a choice" while refusing to prioritize our own personal futures over what we deem is more important in S5 (re: keeping the sun seed safe even if that means risking janai and not killing sir sparklepuff to guarantee your own existence). amaya and viren prequel when

#tdp amaya #the dragon prince #tdp #tdp viren #tag ramble #viren #amaya #the royal family of katolis #mine #forgot how much i loved them #was combing over 1x05 for the viren meta the other day about kpp'ar and was reminded just how much i love these two #it's about the Implications #i wonder if i can incorporate some of how i see their teenaged selves into my varrow fic #cause i really do think they would've gotten along well #before gradually getting on each other's nerves more (amaya doesn't do well at taking his self importance seriously #and then sarai's death really wrenching them apart)#also why it always confused me when fans of one of them really hated the other bc it's like #they are (in a lot but not every way of course) a lot more similar than they are different #esp in arc 1. arc 2 gives more differences/distances #but their own similarities

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james-p-sullivan · 11 months

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#i forgot how sad the ending is :’(#oh my poor boys #four swords #four swords manga #has my love for vidow been spurred on though #and zelda telling shadow that he’s as much a hero as the rest of them #*throws book across room*#i should have reread this years ago #oh my poor shadow link #but it gave me a few more fic ideas #so we’ll see #but ughhh Zelda and link walking away holding hands #they’ve been through so much #also im not gonna stop making these memes #just block me now hahaha

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luuxxart · 1 year

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asking Souji if he would rectify the accomplice route would be like asking if the sky is blue.

#take that how you will #persona 5 #persona 4 #goro akechi #souji seta #yu narukami #student council au #ANYWAY THATS WHAT IM THINKING ABT THIS 2/2 #i mean yeah there’s a couple subtle hints of shuake on Akechi’s phone but not enough to tag them for blogging purposes #this was supposed to be a fic first and I wrote it quite a long time ago but I decided it would be better in a visual medium #the film filter from PicsArt is my best friend <3 #I forgot how much I love drawing Souji btw omG

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mugrisstuff · 3 months

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rw dr house and not hilson being the black plague of the old man yaoi

#and like im already searching for fics like i forgot how much i hate them #they just go straight to the neck #i literally love them sm like im just insane #STOP FLIRTING Y'ALL JUST SAVE LIVES!!!#dr house #james wilson #gregory house #hilson #house md

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delta-piscium · 10 months

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okay, for wip weekend, very hard to choose just one BUT cringefail vampire eddie (beloved) won out this time

he's so dear to me, (beloved is right there) so I'm very happy about that!! thank you <3

(I know it's 3 sentences but I wrote 491 words and we're just gonna go with that okay? sorry and thank u again)

Eddie’s fingers are rapidly drumming against the countertop where he’s perched. The need he now has to be high up increasing with his hunger. “Just bite me, Eddie,” Steve sighs, “it’s probably inherent to not mess up, so there’s no need to worry.” And then he, to Eddie’s great horror, starts taking his shirt off. “We don’t know that,” Eddie hisses through his now protruding fangs, “and why are you stripping?” Steve gives him a look like he’s the insane one. Like he’s the one telling a vampire to just bite at his major arteries, and undressing in the middle of said vampire's kitchen. “I don’t want to get blood on my shirt,” Steve shrugs and then bends down to pull his socks off too. “Or accidentally step in it with my socks." He makes a face and shudders like that’s his biggest worry right now, "it’s bad enough when you step in water.” How is he being so relaxed about this? “So where do you want me?” He claps his hands together, looking around the dark room. Eddie is going to kill him, except he’s very much not because he’s not doing this. “Far away with your clothes on,” Eddie mutters. A look of hurt crosses Steve’s face before it’s replaced with a frown. “You need blood, I have blood. What’s the issue? ” He crosses his arms over his still very bare chest and fixes Eddie with a look. “Is it me? Because we could call-” “No Steve, it’s not you,” Eddie interrupts before Steve can say whoever else would be willing to risk their life for his tragic undead ass. “It’s the fact that I could kill you.” His face softens, “Eddie-” Eddie doesn’t want to hear him say it’s okay again. He can’t hear Steve — wonderful, beautiful, Steve — say Eddie’s life is worth the risk of his own. “I could really mess up,” he pleads, begging Steve to just get it. To let it go. But he’s not sure Steve actually knows how to let things go. Ignore things? Sure. But let go? No. And this isn’t something Steve seems willing to brush under the rug. “What if you bit me in a place that isn’t so risky?” Steve continues to press because he can't let things go- and wait what? “Huh?” Eddie says. “You don’t have to bite my neck just because that’s what they do in movies and books,” he points out and, yeah fuck he’s right. Why did Eddie think he had to be fucking Dracula just because he’s a vampire now? “I- yeah, I guess so,” he says carefully eyeing Steve as he takes a step closer, then another. “So you’ll do it?” And why does he have to sound so hopeful about it? Eddie closes his eyes and makes the mistake of taking a deep breath in. Inhaling the delicious, mouthwatering, smell of Steve and his warm, fresh, blood. “Yeah, I’ll do it.”

wip weekend (make me write)

#idk if the tone here seems not as lighthearted as the fic really is but that's what this scene is so just yeah #i forgot how much i love writing this and got carried away a little...#wip weekend #wip snippet #my writing #steddie #vampire eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #ask #thefreakandthehair #dels steddie thoughts

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tunastime · 9 months

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if you are perhaps still doing the ficlet prompt thing... ethubs with #14??

hi! it's been so long since i've done one of these, anon, so this was a really nice break from working on other stuff. sorry it's been a second since i saw this! though, fair warning, it is based on another fic! a special scene from my space au! <3

I accidentally did both prompts, but I hope you enjoy regardless :>

14. Bruised / Kissed (words: 933) (x)

“Here’s my argument,” Etho starts, watching Bdubs carry the clunky, white box of medical supplies over to the bedside. His eyes follow his hands, mouth moving on its own accord, it seems, as he babbles uselessly, trying to not sound as nervous as he feels. His stomach is twisted into knots, so much so he was barely able to stomach dinner. “I need to go out there, it has to get done one way or another.”

Bdubs sets the heavy case at the foot of the bed. It settles with a dull thump. The thing is, and Etho can tell as he reads Bdubs’ face, he’s being stupid. He’s right to be stupid, though, knowing, personally, that the work has to get done, and that Bdubs can’t and frankly won’t step into the flight suit. It didn’t matter if his suit had a hole in it, really. They had four made—two for each of them in case of a breach. And even then, Etho is good with his hands. He can patch the original suit just fine. Besides, his body took the brute force of the hit, tearing him open for a fraction of a second. It’s a two by one tear in the suit, that’s nothing!

Bdubs’ frown is less evident in his mouth than it is the furrow between his eyebrows and the set of his jaw. Etho deflates as Bdubs sits in the chair in front of him. He watches his jaw work, trying pointedly to ignore the brush of stubble forming on his face, or the way his deep brown eyes flick over Etho’s shoulder and neck. He sighs a particularly weary sound and drags the first aid kit over to beside his knee, lifting it into his lap. He still hasn’t made proper eye contact with Etho, his body language doing little to suggest he’s even heard his suggestion in the first place. That knotted feeling in Etho’s stomach is starting to sink into a cold, muscle-weakening dread, diffusing out through his body from his core. He swallows it back, or at least tries to. His hands find each other in his lap, and his thumb finds a broken notch of one nail. He worries it under the pad of his finger as his eyes study Bdubs’ face for anything.

Nothing.

“Bdubs,” he starts. Bdubs’ eyes flick up to him. His expression is cold only for a moment, before it softens around his mouth and eyes and Etho’s heart squeezes tightly in his chest. The words won’t come out of his throat. Bdubs’ expression looks like a no.

“Let’s see the stitches, Etho,” he says, far too gently to feel like it should be for Etho. Etho draws his hands back, one coming to lift the grey shirt he’s wearing up the side of his ribs, and the other to peel away the gauze covering a line of dark-threaded stitches. Bdubs frowns properly then, mouth twisting in thought.

“I can fix it,” Etho says, voice taking on an insistent edge. Bdubs sighs hard through his nose.

“I don’t care if you can fix it,” he says. “I can’t let you go out there again.”

“‘Dubs.”

“Etho, please,” Bdubs tries. He looks up at Etho for the briefest of moments, eyes wide and dark and Etho feels his heart leap into his throat. He’s standing in the decompression chamber barely able to breathe. He’s being impaled and feeling blood trip through his fingers. Bdubs swallows. Etho watches. “Don’t.”

“Fine,” Etho says, voice suddenly quiet. “I…I won’t.”

Bdubs peels off the last bit of tape, his voice dropping in volume as he works. There’s a long pause before he speaks again, and the silence feels heavy around his words, both before, and after them.

“Do you promise?” he asks, and Etho can’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

“I promise,” he lies. He swallows down the taste of it.

“It’s looking better,” Bdubs says and smooths a dry piece of gauze gently over it. Another piece gets sectioned off for Etho to hold with his free hand, and Bdubs tears off two sections of tape. He presses the gauze flat against the stitching, taping it to Etho’s skin, smoothing it out with his thumbs. He lingers there for a beat longer than necessary, thumbs pressed to Etho’s skin and where the tape begins.

“That’s good,” Etho says, despite the fact that there’s a purple-green bruise from the impact crawling up the side of his ribs. His voice comes a little breathless, but he knows it’s not from worry anymore. Bdubs’ eyes flick up to meet him, and something about the way they settle on him makes something warm curl up in the pit of Etho’s stomach. Bdubs smiles, and Etho can’t help the smile that forms on his face in response, just the smallest curve of his mouth to match the soft look Bdubs fixes him with. Bdubs’ hands come up to cup his face, drawing his head down toward him. Pressing his lips to the space between Etho’s eyebrows, Bdubs kisses him, sighing through his nose, leaning against his forehead as he pulls his lips away. Etho’s hands reach to find any point of contact with Bdubs, reaching his knees, pressing his palms to them. He hums under his breath, feeling that warm thing settle more into his chest.

“Damn right it’s good,” Bdubs whispers.

Etho’ll have to fix that communication disk one way or another. But for now, he can sit with Bdubs resting here, despite how short, how much of a fraction of a moment that is. Etho can’t help but laugh.

At least he has this, for now.

#ethubs #ethoslab #bdoubleo100 #hermitcraft #hermitshipping #mcyt #mcyt fic #fics #text #spacer au #sen au #stretching endless night #now with a new title!#rghrghrhgbrghrh they make me so so so crazy i forgot how much i love love ethubs #i always forget until open spacer to start working on it

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crybaby-bkg · 2 years

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Bakugou who has one too many bad days in a row, so he splurges on a shit load of sex toys just so he can use them on you and destress. finds comfort and relaxation from where you squirm on the bed after he holds that little rose toy he found in your shopping cart on your clit. it’s been there for weeks now—he knows because he checks regularly to buy the shit you always hesitate on buying because is it really worth it?—and he couldn’t help but get it.

thinks it’s worth it, from how high pitched and whiney your voice gets. you’ve never been too loud in bed, but this little vibe is gonna earn you guys noise complaints by morning time. he lays beside you the entire time, propped as he rests his face in his palm, garnet eyes tracing every curve and dip of your body, pressing the pretty lil rose right up against your pulsing clit. you’re so pretty like this, he thinks, as he watches your chest and soft tits heave with your shaking breaths and how your tummy trembles and how your nails rip holes in the sheets from the intensity.

and then he moves on to the other toys when you tap out after he gets to the fourth setting out of ten on the toy, the vibrations all too much for you to handle. maybe next time, he thinks as he toys with your swollen clit, he’ll buy a pussy plumper, just so he can watch how puffy your lips get, so he can smack at your clit that looks so tiny compared to how fat your cunt is now.

he spends the rest of the night trying different dildos in you, ranging from sizes and shapes that make your eyes roll into the back of your head and make you lose consciousness whenever you climax. he feels himself rejuvenated finally, when you pass out from exhaustion. only then can he finally touch himself, rub along your still twitching body, and cum wherever he so pleases on you. only then can he relax and have a number of good days ahead of him.

#this is like #the nastiest thing I’ve written on this account so far LOL #I wanna write a full fic about a p*ssy plumper now #such a hot idea omfg #anyway i think I’m gonna bake today #or maybe write #I’ve been writing my own oroginal story again and I forgot how much I loved it #have a great day!!#—new treat in the streets! 🍫#bakugou treats! 🍬

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autisticlancemcclain · 11 months

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fic rec friday 26

welcome to the twenty-sixth fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. suite on you by @adelfie

Lance feels a little jarred when he sees nothing friendly in the suitemate’s eyes, and then foolish. He scrambles to find something to say. “Do you have any rules?" Keith’s eyes darken. “Yeah. Don’t bother me this semester. Or ever.”

-- Accident-prone Lance McClain learns that his grumpy suitemate, Keith, has one rule: to leave him alone. Lance would really like to follow that rule. Really. But his clumsiness has other plans.

(Or, 5 times Lance bothers Keith and 1 time Keith lets him.)

any fic that uses the Lance is a Ray of Sunshine tag is a fave of mine bc he is. i loved how in this one keith called lance sweet, not like an adjective but as a petname?? anyways it killed me and it made lance melt as you might have guessed. i loved it

2. Shiro, You Ignorant Slut by notverystraight

“I like Keith,” Lance blurted suddenly.

Shiro blinked. “Oh.” Not exactly the revelation he’d been expected. “He likes you, too.”

- In which Shiro accidentally reveals Keith and Lance’s feelings for each other… without even knowing about them in the first place.

god bless fics that write shiro as the dorky dumbass he is. he WOULD be the one to spill the beans without knowing that there are even beans to be spilled. i love him

3. Escalate by demonsushi01 [EXPLICIT]

Day 15. Flustered

5 +1 Fives times in which Lance is flustered by Keith during their relationship, with it steadily shifting from more innocent things as it continues. And one time in which he gets back at Keith.

this mostly isnt explicit, its mostly just klance turning their relationship into a competition lol. they also spend a significant amount of time embarrassing their friends which is excellent

4. Part of Your World by @floranna

Keith sat at the dock, glaring at the water, wearing only his speedos. It was a bright, warm, and sunny day, with slight enough of a breeze to keep the worst of the heat away. Not like Keith cared or anything like that, of course, but…

Everything spelled that it should have been a beautiful, wonderful day, full of wonderful memories, if only that sharp-toothed half fish would actually show up!

happy belated mermay my loves <3 you want klance? teasing and soft and domestic? monstertron? lance with very sharp teeth? keith being very into lance with very sharp teeth? one stop shop babey

5. Hunk’s List of Grievances by @littlecinnamonbunny

Honestly, Hunk deserves better.

Five times that Hunk thought he walked in on Lance and Keith doin’ the hanky-panky, and one time he actually did.

this fic made me LAUGH. like literally out loud. let me introduce yall to my favourite part:

And that’s when it happens.

A familiar gloved hand comes into view, pale fingers pushing back Lance’s fringe with a soft groan, and Hunk realizes that Lance's mouth is currently preoccupied and will not be able to respond. But it’s too late because Hunk’s already opened his own mouth to speak.

“Hey Lance, Allura wants to– hoLY F- oh yup okay that’s definitely a dick, goodbye I’m gonna erect myself out of- eject! - eject myself out of the airlock now.”

He turns on his heel and speed walks the fuck out, and even Yellow is sending him questioning concern that tingles the corners of his mind (though it’s tinged with amusement, the filthy traitor) and he ignores Lance’s choking and coughing and swearing.

He also chooses to ignore Keith’s mortified cry of his name along with “wait-!” because no Keith, why the fuck would he wait?!

‘Oh sorry, let me just pause in my desperate attempt at fucking off for a moment so you can remove your genitals from the back of my best friend’s throat and try and convince me that your penis was checking for cavities’.

like holy shit 😭😭 words cannot express how out of pocket this whole fic is like i genuinely cannot read it without smiling

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

#i do a bunch of these every five weeks i forgot how much i love doing them #vld #voltron #klance #keith #keith kogane #lance #lance mcclain #hunk #hunk garrett #lance & hunk #hunk & lance #mermay #mermaid lance #established klance #pre klance #fic rec #fic rec friday #longpost

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