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#Thank God she is a grandmother
blu3-j · 11 months
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Jewelry & Puppy Eyes
Jewelry Wearing! Reader x Wally
Tw: none
(Alright, side note, I’m making it so Barnaby occasionally calls you teacup in any fanfics he’s in now. Yes, they are a breed of dog. So tiny. So adorable. Just like you!)
Oooh, Wally likes you~! And during one of your walks with your best friend, you drop a ring! Wally reaches down for it and attempts to hand it to you—but what’s this? Julie and Sally notice?! Oh, my! What hijinks are going to occur next?
It was another sunny, peaceful day. Originally, you had planned to stay at home all day and work on your latest hobby. However, soon after Eddie popped by early in the morning with your mail in hand, Wally appeared knocking at your door with a picnic basket in hand. He was such an early bird on some days, and today seemed to be one of them.
“Good morning, Y/N!” Wally chirped in his monotone voice. You were embarrassed, to say the least, that Wally was seeing you in such a state. You weren’t much of a morning person, only having woken up about 10 minutes ago to answer Eddie’s knock. Your hair was tangled, clothes disheveled, and the ghost line of drool that had dribbled down your chin while you were asleep had yet to be wiped off yet. Wally observed your appearance for a moment, looking up and down, before he continued. “Oh, did I come too early?” Blush dusted your cheeks, and you chuckled, mumbling a sheepish “yeah.” He held the basket in front of him. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I got a bit too excited to see you.” His robotic laughter filled the morning. “I wanted to give you this.” He handed you the basket excitedly. Upon peeking inside, there were a few flowers, and a small painting of a flower field. “I saw that flower field, and the flowers reminded me of you!” His posture straightened a little as his smile widened. “Oh, I wanted to ask you if you’ll accompany me later on a walk. Would you like to?”
A small rush of energy flowed through you, and you eagerly nodded. You had to guess you’ll find time later to work on your hobbies. At least you didn’t have to worry about bills in this new world. Or taxes. Or worry about paying for groceries at the store with anything except gossip, stories, crafts, and jokes. Money was no issue, it wasn’t even really a concept in this neighborhood.
The little yellow puppet rolled on his feet as he stared up at you. You watched as his pupils grew a small moment. It was something that happened often, especially when he was around you. The two of you had grown close over the time you’ve been here, and although it took a while, you eventually began to get used to his little quirks. Eating with his eyes, his pupils able to grow and shrink, his staring, and even his strange ability to completely shroud his face in darkness except for his eyes no matter what lighting he was in. You barely even took notice of how monotone his voice and laughter are anymore. They were all normal to you by now. Some of it was even considered a bit endearing, in a strange way. You still remember what Barnaby had taught you what some of it meant.
“Barnaby?” The large dog looked down to you before pulling his pipe out of his mouth.
“What’s up, teacup?”
“I’ve noticed Wally’s eyes sometimes grow. What does that mean?”
His mouth curled up a smidge. “Well, that could mean many things,” he started. “It could mean that he’s eaten something, it could mean that he’s happy, or sometimes it could mean that whoever he’s looking at with ‘em is someone he really adores.” His belly rumbled with soft laughter as he looked to you in the corner of his eye. “Maybe my little buddy has someone he really likes.” He shrugged, looking away and putting his pipe back to his mouth and puffing. “Or maybe he just really likes food. I don’t blame the little guy.” He hummed, putting a paw to his chin. “A hot dog sounds really good right now. What do ya say, teacup? Wanna go get a hot dog? My treat!”
“Great!” Wally responded. You two took a minute to find a time, eventually settling on a few hours from now to let you wake up and get ready. He walked off blowing you an air kiss goodbye, and you found yourself blowing one back. Air kisses were something he had begun doing weeks ago, and he used it for many things. Excitement, adoration, hellos, goodbyes, and everything in between. After a few days, you decided to begin doing it back, knowing he was just excited to know something new and didn’t mean anything more to it. Even after he found out through some of the others that it was only reserved for special people and situations, he still kept doing it to you, and you to him. It was like your secret handshake.
The door clicked closed and you decided to take the time to get ready to face the day. Breakfast was quickly made, a shower was taken, and a colorful outfit was put on. A few of the others had all gotten together soon after you arrived to make you some colorful and unique clothing pieces as a “Welcome home” gift. Finally, you reached over to a shelf in your closet with your jewelry. Some rainbow clip-on earrings, your friendship bracelets Sally, Julie, Frank, and Eddie made you, and a ring. Frank was the most hesitant to give you his friendship bracelet he made for you, saying it was Julie’s idea, but you could tell through his eyes he loved seeing you wear it as much as the others did with theirs.
Right on time, a knock rapped through the door. Walking down the stairs, you saw through the window in your living room it was Wally. He glanced through the window and made eye contact with you as you walked down and waved. With a smile, you opened the door to him.
“Hello, again!” He piped. Then he held out his hand for you to take. You greeted him back and took his hand, leaving the house and closing the door after you. Wally liked holding people’s hands, but held his best friends’ hands the most.
The walk was calming and filled with joyous energy. The birds chirped song off in the distant woods, the other neighbors cheerfully went about their daily activities, occasionally greeting the two of you as they passed by, and the sky was clear and blue as day. Even the barely noticeable music—which was something extremely unexpected but normal here—was laid back and casual. The two of you occasionally struck conversation as you walked, with mainly you doing most of the talking while Wally gladly stared and listened.
Then you felt something slip from your finger. Oh no! Your ring! Wally was quick to notice, and let go of your hand to crouch down. He gingerly picked it up and held it up to you. You couldn’t help but smile and reach out for it when—
GASP!
Julie and Sally’s gasps were made obvious to you. Glancing over, the two girls had dropped all of the stage props they had been carrying and were staring with wide eyes at the scene in front of them. Oh, no. Julie held her face with her hands and Sally held closed fists towards the front of her face while their smiles grew and eyes began to sparkle. The quiet squeals from the two was what finally caught Wally’s attention. He looked to them, then back at you, to them, and finally settled on you. A small wrinkle appeared on his forehead, and he held up the ring to you once more.
“Oh my gosh! Wally are you proposing to Y/N?!” Sally exclaimed.
“Y/N, are you going to say yes?!” Julie continued.
“Are you two going to get married??!!” The two finished in unison.
You stammered back a step as your face flashed hot. “W-what?! No!” You looked down to Wally in desperation. But he only stared back at you. “I’m not going to marry you!” A chuckle escaped your lips as you continued, holding a hand to your face in exasperation. “We haven’t even gone on a single date, and I require a romantic relationship to last at least a few years before I even consider saying yes to that question! Wally’s not going to be my husband, you two.” You put your hands to your hips and glanced at the pair before noticing something in the corner of your eye. Wally’s pupils grew.
You spoke before you could even think of an answer. “Wally,” you deadpanned. “I’m not going to marry you.” His pupils continued to grow a tiny smidge and he widened his eyes so they shined in the sunlight, a small additional blush forming on his cheeks. Finally, he tilted his head cutely to the side. His puppy dog face. The same exact one Barnaby had taught him a while back—and a face you could almost never say no to. You tried everything you could. You tried to look away, you tried to ignore him, you even tried to wait it out until he gave up. But in the end, you couldn’t resist those adorable eyes.
You sighed. “Alright,” you slowly began. You thought for a moment to carefully decide your next words. “I’ll call you my husband on one of two conditions. One, you take me on a date. If it goes well, and we become a couple, wait a few years, and then you can ask and I may say yes. Two, we stay as friends, and I’ll call you my platonic husband.” His pupils grew even more, and he finally stood from his previous crouching position.
The girls watched in anticipation.
Romantic Option:
He stood up and gently grabbed your hand, putting the ring in your palm. But he didn’t let go of your hand.
“Okay!” He chirped. “Y/N…” For the first time, he looked away while he was talking to you. Only for a moment, though. “Will…” He hesitated. “Will you allow me to accompany you on a date?”
You sharply inhaled, and your face felt as if it was on fire. It most probably looked like you had been sunburned by now, you figured. Suddenly, it all made sense. The air kisses, the hand holding, the pupil growing, even the occasional gifts. Some he did with only you, or he did the most only when you were around. Even Barnaby hinted at it! Does that mean the others knew, too? Or was it just speculation? How did you never notice? How did you never put all the puzzle pieces together?
Wally continued to stare with anticipation, and tilted his head. You ignored the girls to the side as you stared back into his eyes.
He’s fun to be around, he’s patient, kind, compassionate, and while he may not always have thoughts behind those eyes of his, he’s always doing his best to understand and learn. And if you said no, then he most likely wouldn’t mind, and he wouldn’t push you on the matter any further.
What’s the harm in saying yes?
Time skip forward a few years, and there the two of you were. Happy and in love. You eventually moved in with Wally, and Home welcomed you with open doors. The two of you had done many things together. Painting, going on lovely picnic dates or dinner dates with romantic candles, hiking into the woods to look for a new wonder, slow-danced to love songs late into the evening, and cuddled close during movies and plays. It almost felt like a dream. Sure, the two of you had arguments like any other couple, and it wasn’t always rainbows and clear skies for the two of you, but you were happy, caring for each other, and still in love by the end.
The hill was steep, but it was no match to the two of you. You had walked up worse. Right at the top, Wally laid down a blanket and you set the basket to the side. The two of you talked away as you laid on the ground and gazed up at the clouds for hours. Finally, you noticed the orange and pink streaks in the sky. The day was already ending. As you looked back to Wally, he was no longer in the spot next to you. You got up and looked around, deciding to look behind the tree the two of you had set up your picnic next to. But he wasn’t there.
Then you turned around.
And there he was; on one knee, holding a small colorful box in his hands. You could see the streaks in the sky in his eyes. Your vision began to blur. Things were quiet. Nothing needed to be said. No fancy words, no extra loving gestures, just you and him on this quiet peaceful evening. Just like the first date he took you on. With the same look he gave you on the first day you met. The day he first asked you on a date.
“Will you?”
A hiccup escaped your breath. “Yes.”
Platonic Option:
He stood up and gently grabbed your hand, putting the ring in your palm. But he didn’t let go of your hand.
“That sounds nice.” His eyes closed halfway back to their normal half-lidded state. “Platonic husband. What is that?” His free hand reached for his chin.
“Uh, well,” you stammered out. “It’s basically where we’re still friends, but we have a special title for each other now. Kind of like a nickname. But it’s important that platonic is mentioned in the name. At least, until everyone knows what we mean by it. Platonic means that we’re friends, and nothing more.”
Wally hummed and nodded. “Can I be your platonic husband?”
“Sure, Wally.” A fond smile rested on your face.
Then you remembered the girls. Or more like they finally spoke up from being so silent. “Oh, oh! We should put together a platonic marriage!” Julie exclaimed. Before you could get another word in, Sally agreed and the two of them were dragging you and Wally off to plan the silly ceremony.
In the end, it was as dramatic and fancy as it could possibly get. Sally of course was the wedding officiant, with Julie being the flower girl. Barnaby was the best man, and Julie was also the maid of honor. It was nothing more than platonic, and everyone knew it, but it didn’t mean that it wasn’t yours and Wally’s special day. The setup looked as if it was out of a fairytale, and your outfits fit the setting. The ceremony went by quick, and you two even got to do typical wedding ceremony activities. You two ran down the aisle as everyone threw petals and confetti, you tossed a bouquet Julie had made just for you, you got to cut the first slice of cake, and you had an eventful after-party that lasted until sundown; filled with games, dancing, comedy acts, and more. You all ended it off with a sleepover at Julie’s house.
Photos of the event were kept dear to each of the neighbors, but especially for you and Wally. A photo of the two of you hung on a wall framed in both your homes. Truly, a day to never forget.
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fbfh · 22 days
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You need to come on line so we can give you boooooppppssss!!!!!
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I relinquish myself to the boops.
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lcevinolusola · 5 days
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confinesofmy · 25 days
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me and my cousin i'm barely on speaking terms with (but in a relatively casual way) repotted her deceased grandmother's pothos today. this was our first time actually properly repotting it bc last summer it was in such a fragile state and we were so scared to hurt it that we just lifted it out of its pot and placed it in a bigger one but this go round we basically dismantled it entirely. we got eight discrete plants and placed it into four different pots!! in nine months it went from the edge of death to that many plants and like ninety leaves altogether. so if you're bad with plants but still wanna fool with them, i guess you should get a pothos.
#neither of us are corny enough to say it or interested in tearjerker moments but i think we both felt the presence of her grandmother HEAVY#this was the only potted plant of hers still living since she died back in 16 & it was. god. it was no longer variegated from lack of light#it actually had more leaves than i remembered. it had like 20. but for every leaf there were 4 places there should've been and wasn't.#water that touched the soil came back yellow which i've never researched to see what the cause is#but i associate it with like. bogs. and stagnation#like if it was still in that dark corner of my other cousin's living room it fr might be dead now#but in nine months thanks to my other cousin asking for help and thanks to us repotting it and taking our turns with it#it has more than quadrupled in size and is variegated af#i don't know what we'll do in like six months when it wants to do it again...#i'm keeping mine somewhat contained tbh i don't even like pothos i just love it bc it's a piece of my aunt#and it is like objectively so fucking sweet that we've rehabbed it like that#adam yaps#like two weeks ago i asked my other cousin if she'd want a pot of it when we repotted and she once again emphasised#that she didn't want it or any cuttings off it leaving the family or being handed out willy nilly#and i once again tried to explain that it's a pothos. it wants to be split up and thrown all over.#that's a pothos' favourite thing#plus her mom probably gave an ungodly amount of people cuttings off it like come on now#but anyway maybe she'll understand now when she sees and fully comprehends that in 9mos we turned half a plant into 4#at this rate we'll either be giving bits away or throwing bits away. those are the options we will eventually face.#because you can't just repot infinitely. eventually your whole house will be one massive pothos in a hundred pots.
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mmmmuffins · 10 months
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you meet the worlds most misogynistic person and its literally your mother
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reasoncourt · 2 years
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If anyone’s interested, when my dad thought he was going to die, he made a playlist on my Spotify account that I was meant to play at his funeral and he spent a ton of money getting someone to custom make him a pineapple shaped coffin (there’s a backstory there but I’m not going to expand)
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mourningmaybells · 4 months
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technically when you get laicized you're still part of the clergy, but you just can't do mass or execute other duties. i don't really see the difference though with any other lay person i guess they wanted to emphasize the "no take backs" thing. well, ok ok that's simplification. there's been an ontological change when you become a priest or nun but from the perspective of actions and lifestyle, you're basically no different from a lay person.
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limetameta · 5 months
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Any time I get a comment on ao3 praising the way I've written the toxicity of purebloods in my HP fics I just have to look at it long and hard and not say: thanks, these are all things I've heard from my own family verbatim :D
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inkskinned · 6 months
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it's just that there's a few more steps you have to take that other people don't have to take, but they don't see the steps, so they think you should be able to hop from moment to moment, a chickadee.
it isn't getting out of bed. it is the weight, the hook in your chest, the anchor. you have to move the anchor first. you have to silence your alarm, but your phone is in your hand, which means now you have to put the phone down, which is too-hard. you get stuck in there for a while, the white screen, mindlessly scrolling. you don't even like this activity, have tried a few other options but - here you are, and time is passing.
you've googled iron deficiency causes depression and if i drink enough water does it help with mental illness and anxiety but no caffiene within the last two weeks, like how you googled am i gay quiz at 17.
it isn't just calling the doctor back, it's the anxiety, it's these little moths in your lung cavities, furious and fluttering. you need to figure out how to capture your fingers from between their nervous bodies. you are an adult, you can say the words yes hi, i'm calling because i need - but you need to practice first. maybe write it down because what if you misspeak, wouldn't that be embarrassing. write it down, but you need to find a pen first. well, actually, your desk is kind of messy. you should get a new pen. you should get a new organizational system. you should try journaling.
your grades in school were always strange. the way teachers would say things like it feels like you're not trying. you could touch stars in the stuff you cared about. well, sometimes. god be willing. homework average zero. oops! your english teacher's wrinkled brow: i know you know this stuff. what the fuck are you doing?
it isn't the showering, it's the mirror before the shower and the soft horrible pull of your naked physique. you have to avoid eye contact completely or else it'll be 93 minutes later and you'll have picked at your skin until every little pore is bleeding. you have to stand up but standing is tiring and also you should have remembered to buy more soap but you never remember anything. maybe get out of the shower and while it's still running and you're still dripping wet, use your phone to take a note. make a note to get your groceries. let the shower run while you stand half-in half-out and get lost in your phone for a moment. come back out when the water runs cold and now you have to sprint to get ready.
your grandmother's frown. you're just being lazy. protestant work ethics in a house that isn't even protestant. she says she just learned different but she means learned better, doesn't she.
it's not that you can't send the email, it's that your hands have been hurting lately and the desk really is messy and also why the fuck would you even care about this thing? doesn't everyone else feel like they're drowning? hi brendon thanks so much for sending! will review and get back to you shortly. but now you're on the internet, close the tab with tumblr on it. go on, close it. feel the little soft vapor of boredom come up and over your eyeteeth and make everything overwhelming and itchy.
literally all you have to do is put on shoes to go outside. you're literally already dressed, that's the hard part of this whole thing. literally just put the shoes on. just... do it! do it! this shit is easy!
it's literally that easy. just stop taking all those stupid invisible steps. stop following your strange made-up rules. times like this, even you're positive you're faking. you just don't want to bother with the cleaning and the cooking and the being-an-adult.
but then - shouldn't you be able to put these stupid shoes on? nobody's even looking. go on kid. life is out there! just take the leap!
get moving.
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sayoneee · 3 months
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☆ AND I KNOW IT’S OVER (STILL I CLING)
percy jackson, who never seems to know when to quit, keeps coming back. (2.9k)
contains: percy jackson x daughter of minor god! reader. post tlo (alt universe - everyone lives). book percy descriptions. apollo (derogatory).
kashaf’s note: book percy descriptions bc that was my first love. (sry if i get some of the words wrong, english isnt my first language pls be patient!!)
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SUMMER BURNS. at camp half-blood, the scorching heat has dwindled to soft caresses, from the heat of the fire during sing-alongs where your cabin joins hands and toasts marshmallows to the cool breeze balming the sun’s glare at its zenith in the sprawling strawberry fields. at home, the scorching heat leaves marks — the biker with flames for pupils who clutched an openly bleeding wound as he thrust a first-aid kit at you, and the girl not much older than yourself with tears marring her face as she handed you a pregnancy test to ring up, avoiding your curious (sympathetic) gaze.
however, despite it all — you stand infallible, much like your grandfather’s part convenience store and part pharmacy, a poor man’s family heirloom.
you stand idly, flipping through an edition of seventeen when the rusty door swings open to admit a familiar face — with unruly black hair and an equally reckless grin (you know exactly who it is from the ba-dum of your heartbeat), the infamous son of poseidon (with the same smile as shawn hunter from boy meets world) is easily recognizable.
you glance at the crimson blooming around the crevices of his knuckles, tightly gripping a faded and worn-out skateboard, his scruffy converse squeaking across the tiled floor, raising an eyebrow as you coolly say, “band-aids are in the back, on the right.”
jackson laughs, an all-consuming sound (the wind-blown half-blood hill where apollo seemed to smile down at you, the laughter, like the memory, evanescent), “thanks, doc.”
you discreetly watch him perusing the aisles, before stopping in front of the ancient fridge — your grandfather’s store was something of an 80s pompeii with the peeling posters of back to the future and motley crue and the antiquated maroon and cream color scheme — and pulling out an arizona green tea.
when he finally goes to look for band-aids, you attempt to fix your attention back on the magazine in your hands, but like a moth driven to a flame, percy jackson was unbelievably hard to look away from (a magnet among mortals and immortals alike). 
jackson’s hands are on his hips, his tupac t-shirt creasing, thick brows furrowed as he decides between different types of candy with the same intensity as a single mother with two children and a nine-to-five (even in the mortal world, there is something else entirely about him, something that made it so that you could never truly write him off).
when he approaches the register again, it’s hard not to look up and watch his ascent. when he finally does come to a stop in front of you, he looks the same as he did the last summer, though the tiny silver trident earring is new, the camp beads resting peacefully atop his collarbones aren’t.
you ring up his items: a box of band-aids, the arizona green tea, and a pack of blue gummy sharks, looking away from him all the while.
“good to see ya, doc,” jackson says, a wry grin on his face, and his eyes are so green — as green as they were at twelve.
“it’s never good to see you, jackson,” you snark back, reciting his total, “four ninety-five, by the way.”
he laughs again (your heart goes ba-dum again), and hands you a five dollar bill, shoving his things into the seemingly bottomless pockets of his baggy jeans, with a salute on his way out (his turning back was a sight far more innocuous than the last time).
the next time jackson breaks whatever tacit agreement lies between the two of you, your hands are similarly stained. reds and purples line your palms, much like the burgundy seemingly permanently staining your grandmother’s fingertips; the culprit (the bowl of pomegranate seeds) sits innocently beside you. 
“back again?” you say, glancing at the familiar scarlet stains adorning jackson’s hands (a familiar blue friendship bracelet sits on his wrist, edges frayed with five years of wear, and there’s a lump in your throat). 
“why, did you miss me?” jackson asks, again with that wry grin of his, skateboard in hand. 
“you’re the one who came back,” you say, crossing your arms across your chest, willing the constricting feeling to disappear.
“doc, i’m sorry to have to be the one that has to break this to you,” he sighs sympathetically, putting a bleeding hand over his heart, “but the sun doesn’t revolve around you.”
“actually, jackson, the sun kind of does revolve around me, ‘cause y’know apollo, the sun god apollo? my grandpa apollo? my grandpa, the sun god, apollo?” 
“going by your logic, that would mean time revolves around me, ‘cause y’know kronos, the time titan kronos? my grandpa kronos? my grandpa, the time titan, kronos?” jackson says, a shit-eating grin on his face as he sets down another band-aid box, an arizona green tea, and a pack of blue gummy sharks on the counter.
“y’know, if you cared this much, you might’ve passed greek,” you say, referring to the progress report cards you were handed at the end of summer.
he shrugged, handing you another five dollar bill, and proceeding to shove everything into his black holes of jean pockets, “yeah, well — wait, are those pomegranates?”
“yeah,” you say, “i peeled them myself — do you want some?” 
(your father liked these, your grandmother had said earlier this afternoon, your mother liked to peel them for him, as i peeled them for her, and your grandfather.)
jackson suddenly looked bashful, fidgeting with the hem of his a tribe called quest t-shirt, “i’ve never had pomegranates before,” he confessed.
you blinked, taken aback, “you’re seventeen years old and you’ve never eaten a pomegranate before?” you pushed the china bowl toward him, “now you have to eat it.”
“my mom liked telling me the myths when i was younger,” he begins, setting down his skateboard, and reaching for the spoon before halting, like he was shocked, “she told me about persephone —”
“jackson,” you say, sardonically, leaning over the register to look him in the eye (there was always a storm brewing in his eyes), “i promise you, hades won’t come out of the ground and drag you to the underworld if you eat the pomegranate seeds i peeled.”
“i know what my next sleep paralysis demon is gonna be — thanks to you,” jackson says, looking down at the bowl and its floral blue pattern around the edges, playing with the spoon, and shifting the seeds from side to side.
“percy jackson, i swear to asclepius, you’re missing out on pomegranates,” you say, coming out from behind the register, and looking percy in the eye again, and there is something so earnest, so raw about your next sentence that his breath catches, “and, i swear on the styx, if hades does somehow come out of the ground to drag you down to the underworld, i’ll come down myself to drag you out, even if it’s tartarus.”
a rumble of thunder can be heard overhead despite the clear sky and scalding sun; percy blinks, before breaking out into a slow grin (your stomach seems to grow wings of its own, on the verge of flight.)
“invoking your dad, huh, doc? these pomegranates must be serious,” percy says, finally taking a bite — stepping around the bomb you just dropped.
you watch him intently, studying him as you studied tennyson and homer, “they are that serious.” there is something innocent about the way he eats, starved like every other teenage boy with black holes for stomachs. 
“y’know, i can put that into a tupperware container and you can take it with you, right?” you offer. 
“really?” percy asks through a mouthful of seeds, looking up from the bowl at you, “won’t you think i’ll steal it or something?”
“not really,” you shrugged, “i trust ms. jackson.”
percy nods solemnly — sally jackson is sally jackson after all, a queen among women, and an achilles of sorts, with her soft smile and steely eyes. 
steeling your nerves, this is already the longest conversation you’ve had (ignoring the forever-ago late-night debriefs under a firmament of stars), you step up to the plate and take a swing, “how is she, by the way, haven’t seen her in a while.”
percy swallowed, eyebrows furrowing, “great — oh, wait, did i tell you she was seeing someone new now?”
“no way, really? good for her, honestly. i know, poseidon’s a god and all, but like, she’s always deserved just, so much more.” (you manage to make contact with the change-up thrown your way.)
there is something so sincere about your words, that percy can’t help but grin back, finally reaching the depths of his sea-green eyes, and there is something still so boyish about him, that you can hardly believe any time has passed at all, and that somewhere within this demigod who successfully defeated kronos, while saving luke, there is still a semblance of your percy. 
“yeah, the guy, paul blofis, he’s an english teacher — absolutely worships the ground she walks on.”
“sounds perfect for her.”
“you should come over some time — see her, meet paul, y’know,” percy offers, still funneling spoonfuls of pomegranates, meeting your gaze head-on (this is the home run you were waiting on).
you grinned, a slow smile overtaking your face, pushing your hands in the pockets of your jeans, “might just take you up on that, before you change your mind.” (you’re leaving the ball in his hands now; it’s up to him to tag you out or let you reach home base safely.)
“nah, i won’t change my mind, unlike someone else i know.”
you ignore the jab (a smaller, suppressed part of you itches to shoot a reply back), instead choosing to focus on the hesitant hand of friendship being offered — as your father liked to say, keep moving forward.
you shrugged, and you swear, for a second you think the intensity of his gaze has lessened, almost as if disappointed. almost as if mentally shaking it off, percy hands you the china bowl back, empty, running a hand through his shaggy hair with a sheepish grin.
you smiled wryly, glancing down at the bowl and back to his face. “fatass,” you say, affectionately, and then almost freezing, wondering if you somehow overstepped the invisible lines constricting you. 
percy laughs — a green light. 
“lucky for you, though,” you say, disappearing behind the register for a moment before reappearing with a tupperware container filled with peeled pomegranates, “i peeled more.”
you hold it out to him, and he glances down at your outstretched hand, then at your face, before seemingly making up his mind, and accepting the olive branch, “you’re really committed to seeing my mom, huh?”
“well, obviously — the other alternative would be seeing you, wouldn’t it?”
“aw, c’mon, doc, i know you missed me,” percy says, a bit smug, picking up his skateboard, the tupperware container in his other hand (the one he still wears your bracelet on).
“in your dreams, jackson.” there is a peal of odd laughter in your voice as if you were unused to this kind of jocularity when fumbling over his name.
“in my dreams, we do more than just argue,” percy says, with one last smug smile and salute, before walking out the door, leaving you behind in the worst state of confusion you’ve possibly suffered (percy jackson: 1, you: 0).
(your grandmother admonishes you later that evening as you stand beside her stooped figure at your kitchen counter, peeling pomegranates, you gave the rest of it to that boy, didn’t you? her voice is not scolding, but you feel like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar once more. your immortal grandfather, the nuisance that he is, stands in the doorway, hands in an 80s leather jacket and matching sunglasses, waiting to be welcomed in. in contrast, his son — your father — brushes past him, grumbling, and takes on your grandmother’s burden.)
the analog clock reads ten fifty-five as you start mopping the floor, yawning when the front door swings open with a jingling bell, and a sharp metallic smell wafts into the store.
you whirl around, gripping the mop in your hand as a baseball bat, immediately alert as your demigod reflexes come into play. you physically relax at the sight of percy clutching his side, crimson pooling on the edges of his white t-shirt. 
“of course you would attack a man when he’s injured,” percy says with a grin, blood dripping from a gash over his eye (luke had returned to camp some years ago, with a similar scar), and a split lip, collecting like rust on his t-shirt collar. 
you scowled, dropping the mop and immediately rushing toward him, your healing instincts kicking in. lifting one of his arms and letting it curl around you, you shouldered him to the register, cringing with every audible wince percy let out.
“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you asked, as you sat him on your stool, reaching for the ambrosia and nectar you kept hidden under the counter for emergencies (one could never be too careful).
percy grinned — it came out more of a grimace, “what isn’t wrong with me — that’s the question you should be asking, doc.” he nodded to himself, and then immediately cringed at the action.
you glared at him, shoving an ambrosia square in his mouth, before turning away from him to put antiseptic on cotton pads. “does ms. jackson know you’re here?”
“no?” percy says. you walk over to the fridge, grab a water bottle, unscrew the cap, and drench the part of his t-shirt covered in blood.
“ow? in case you forgot, i’m still injured here, doc?” percy clutches at his side.
“you dumbfuck, your mom is probably worried out of her mind right now,” you say, scowling, stepping closer to percy (he still towers over you, even when sitting down).
“i iris messaged her,” he shrugs, looking at you as you shift even closer to him, cotton pad in your hand, “she just knows i’m with you — pretty relieved at that, dunno why.”
reaching out to grasp his jaw in your hand, you begin dabbing at the bruises on his cheekbones, his eyes fluttering shut as you try to ignore the way his hot breath is fanning across your face right now. “you didn’t tell her what happened?”
percy opened his eyes, staring at you. “no, how could i?” he says, slowly, “you were her favorite — still are, by the way.”
you don’t say anything for a moment — after all, how could you? (sally jackson’s homemade cookies drift to the front of your treacherous mind — the sunny afternoons with her kind voice, and percy’s loutish laughter.)
“you didn’t come to see her,” percy says, the statement not accusatory, his eyes fluttering shut again (you try not to let the way his eyelashes sit so prettily distract you) as you dab at the gash over his eye.
“i didn’t think i was welcome,” you say gruffly, turning away to grab bandages. “after everything.”
while the deeper wounds have eased into far easier, superficial ones, you still make sure to wrap and bandage everything — percy had a penchant for getting into trouble (one that you knew all too well), so it was the least you could do.
“i just told you that you were welcome, last time i was here, didn’t i?” percy says, an accusation.
“yeah, well, it was hardly an invitation was it?” you say, turning away from him, packing your supplies up. 
“doc, you didn’t even come to take your tupperware back.”
you ignore him, moving to walk away when his hand is enclosed around your wrist (the hand that wears your blue friendship bracelet), tugging you around to face him. 
percy’s standing up now, his green eyes looking more like a swirling storm with each passing second — he still hasn’t let your wrist go.
“what do you want from me?” you ask, trying to snatch your hand back from him, to no avail — his grip is ironclad.
“i can’t let you walk away with your back turned to me again,” he says (the dim, lantern-lit night comes back into focus, and you wonder if you were too consumed by your own pride, if you had just turned around, if you had just stayed).
you realize too late that tears are pricking in the corners of your eyes, and you manage to successfully wrench your hand out of his grasp, a watery, sarcastic laugh escaping, “you’re a couple years too late, asshole.”
“i know that,” percy says, earnest, reaching out to cup your cheek, and wipe a stray tear (the action stuns you into paralysis), “but i miss you, and my mom misses you, and she hasn’t gotten off my case about you, yet.”
the thought of tender-hearted sally jackson scolding percy is an amusing one, and draws a laugh out of you against your will (percy’s smile grows a little brighter, and asclepius knows you’ve never been able to resist that smile of his), “i’ll come over for ms. jackson, not you.”
percy’s smile is even wider now (his hand is still ghosting your cheek), “same thing.”
“shut up,” you say swatting at his shoulder, trying to duck out from under his arms. 
percy avoids your attempts to escape him, instead latching onto your hand, and pulling you out of the store. “c’mon, she’s expecting us for dinner.”
you let out an incredulous laugh, and let yourself be dragged out anyway (you would follow this boy anywhere, even to the depths of tartarus). 
(your grandmother watches from the apartment window above the store, a soft smile gracing her lined features.)
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floatyflowers · 3 months
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Dark! Percy Jackson Reverse Harem x Reader|| Chapter Two
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<<< Chapter One
Your eyes widen when you see Chiron being half horse half man.
"You are a centaur"
Chiron chuckles at your shocked expression.
"Indeed, I'm, and I'm here to guide you"
"Thank you, sir"
"Are you not going to greet me, (Wrong name)?"
You turn your eyes to stare at the dark haired dark eyes man with confusion.
"My name is (Y/n)" you correct him before asking "And you are?"
"Dionysus"
"As in the god who has a cult?"
"That's me, I miss my cult"
You nod in agreement, unsure if that was meant to be humor or a genuine confession.
"Yes, I used to rule an entire cult in ancient Greece. They all worshipped me and offered me sacrifices."
You feel a twinge of unease at the thought of being in a cult, especially one led by a god like Dionysus.
Still, you don't want to be rude, so you just smile politely and say.
"That's... great."
Dionysus nods, seemingly satisfied with your response.
"Well then," he says,
"Shall we continue on? I can show you around the camp and introduce you to some of the other demigods."
Chiron frowns, looking at Dionysus, finding his behaviour strange.
Dionysus is never friendly towards any demigod.
But now, he is offering to show you around.
Chiron never understood the gods obsession with you.
He assumed it has something to do with your powers.
"There is no need, but thank you for the offer, Luke showed me around the camp"
You say before turning towards the centaur.
"I will be going now if that's all"
The moment you take your leave, Dionysus sighs in disappointment.
"If only she was my daughter"
°°°
The cabin is all pastel pink and surrounded by flowers and cherubs statues, and it is also close to Aphrodite's cabin, which is not surprising.
But what made you uncomfortable is the glass window in your room.
You will need curtains for that later.
What is surprising is that you found tons of gifts on your bed and your wardrobe is filled with clothes.
And a note that says 'From your beloved grandmother. Aphrodite'
Also there are gifts from different deities.
For example, Hermes gave you a golden caduceus pendant with a blue diamond.
Apollo gave you healing potions.
Ares gifted you a dagger and also has a note with it 'Sharp enough to kill your enemies'
But what astonished you the most is the gift from Etos, it's a music box.
A cherubs music box, when you turn it on, it starts playing very enchanting music.
There is a long letter too.
My sweet demigoddess,
I write to you on this fine day to express my deepest love and adulation for you.
Your strength, courage, and power all demonstrate your divine ancestry, and your beauty and grace shine with the warmth of the sun.
My heart aches for you from far away, and all I desire is to embrace you in my arms and to watch you flourish with all that you are and can be.
This music box is a gift from me, once it starts playing, all monsters will flock away from you.
From your father,
Eros.
The strong fragrance on the letter makes you calm down.
To be honest, you don't hate Eros even though he never was by your side when you grew up.
Maybe the new life for you here, isn't bad after all.
°°°
"Capture the flag? As in fighting other demigods? no thank you"
You say, walking by Percy's side.
The boy showed up at your doorsteps first thing in the morning, and asked you to walk with him.
"Don't worry, I will protect you, if you stay by my side" 
You stop and look at Percy and cross your arms over your chest.
"Why did you tell Luke that I'm your girlfriend?" you inquire.
Percy smiles.
"Because you have always been my girlfriend, remember in grade one where you wanted to marry me and made a promis-"
You quickly stop him, your cheeks heating up from the childhood memories.
"I was a child"
"I don't care, a promise is a promise"
"What if I fall for another?"
Percy shrugs, with the smile still on his face.
"It would be like Icarus flying too close to the sun"
You raise an eyebrow but he continues.
"Another might get close to you but they will never reach you before they fall to their deaths"
Chapter Three >>>
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hhnguyen · 1 year
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aren’t you just precious
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Everything medical related was a google search, so those in the medical field please don’t come for me - I was a literature major for a reason 😭
♢ Pairing: Parents!Jake & Neytiri x Oldest daughter!Reader
♢ Word count: 2k 
♢ Genre: suspense, action, angst, slight humor - Warnings: explicit description of injuries, blood, cursing, reader is a lil crazy
⌲ Description: Your iknimaya goes a little south. Aka introducing the ‘demon ikran.’
M A S T E R L I S T
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Jake Sully, a marine veteran at the age of twenty-two had gone through absolute hell on earth before ever setting his disabled ass on Pandora. 
He thought he had seen the worse - comrades shot down right in front of his eyes, the blood covering their skin, blank dead eyes staring into his soul. Sometimes there were those who were actually blown to bits by bombs and grenades, screaming not even five feet away from him as they clutched their missing limbs, begging a nonexistent God for mercy.
Then there was his own injury. The pain he hardly remembered, because he had gotten to the point of delusion when they finally managed to drag him out of the war zone, half dead, and to the VA hospital.  
The incoherent words he had heard after waking up from his surgery despite his hazy vision and buzzing hearing at that time, yet the truth coming out of the doctor’s mouth had still hit him in the face like the largest ‘fuck you and your life’ to exist. 
“...ave severe spinal injury...fixable...expensive, marine.”
A severe spinal injury that was fixable but too expensive for a marine like him to afford. 
For an active man as he had been in the past, the thought of being paralyzed from the waist had been his worst nightmare to the point of being ready to waste away his life. 
Though even after all that shit, Jake Sully felt like he wanted to throw up as he stared at his oldest baby girl at the fresh age of fourteen laying there in front of him; delirious as he had once been in the same position, bleeding and bruised. 
He could only thank Eywa that your heart was still beating and your body intact. 
Well, mostly. 
The almost nauseous angle of your left wrist certainly did not look natural. And their bones were fortified, stronger than anything else to human knowledge. Yet it had managed to snap as easily as that. 
Neytiri - his beautiful, poor mate. She was distraught, one would say more so than him. Sitting only inches away from your fevering form in one of Hell’s Gate treating rooms for avatars, muttering prayers with dried tears upon her face. 
Your injuries had been so severe that not even the abilities of your grandmother, the Tsahik, could heal you solely through the spiritual power of Eywa. These kinds of injuries needed the advanced surgery of human technology. 
His other children were barred from coming inside, having been firmly ordered to remain in their village as he and Neytiri made sure that you would be okay. None of them wanted to keep them away, but neither did they want them to be traumatized by seeing your bloodied and broken form. 
A stark contrast from the smiling and proud sister that they knew. 
And yet, you had still managed to complete your iknimaya. 
Jake watched with a bated breath from the air upon Bob, his own faithful ikran through the years, as he saw the slight encouraging push Neytiri had given you on the edge of the nesting place. Your, oh so small form, looked firm and stubborn as you steadily stalked forward in a crouched form, the band for the beak held in your grasp with determination. 
He watched as one ikran flew away. Then another. And another. A third one. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. 
He had lost count after the eleventh. 
You were getting frustrated, he could see that. Neytiri was still there, calling out for you to calm down. To be patient as he moved Bob a little bit closer, but not too much to distract you if you were to see him hovering. 
And there he was. 
Jake had seen it before you did. The vicious screech even reached him high up in the clouds and echoed above all the other ikrans. 
He felt his blood run cold as the midnight blue beast, nearly black in color with its yellow and green detailing jumped down from the highest point of the rocks and landed behind you as you whirled around with snarl of your own. 
But then as fleeting as it had been, you had grinned, taking in the magnificent animal despite its bloodthirsty aggressiveness. 
“Aren’t you just precious?” Neytiri had told him of your words in the aftermath. 
His mate hollered in encouragement, and he could hardly stop the prideful tug of his own lips. 
Rather than you leaping on the beast, Jake straightened up as he saw the ikran run at you as well. Both were only inches away from crashing, as you last minute decided to slide beneath its belly - slight enough to fit as you rolled away on the other side and then slung the catcher around its mouth swiftly before throwing yourself on its back. 
His expectations had been hopeful from that moment. Positive. But wrong, oh so wrong. 
Rather than trying to snap at you by turning, he watched in horror as the ikran seemed to have a human mind as it slammed against a stone wall, you hitting it first. 
Neytiri had screamed, already half leaping forward but stopping herself as she saw you still clinging to the beast. 
Both had thought that had been the worst of it until the ikran tried it again. This time deliberately falling backward to land on its back with a rumble, where you were hung on. 
“LET GO MA ‘ITE! LET GO!” Neytiri was yelling. Or begging. He couldn’t be sure in his own fear. 
But both of them underestimate you, as a growl mixed with what Jake had assumed to be a painful yell from yourself erupted. Legs manage to wrap around the animal’s neck despite being crushed underneath its weight. 
He saw belatedly you were only holding on to the banshee catcher with one hand as you pulled at its head hard enough to make the animal let out another vicious muted screech. 
And then you truly proved you were his daughter. 
“C’MON YOU MOTHERFUCKER. GRANDPA BOB WAS BETTER THAN THIS!”
The ikran had gotten angrier, trashing before suddenly rolling like a fucking bowling pin on the stone-covered ground. 
Towards the edge of the cliff. 
Neytiri ran, and Jake dove, both reaching out and screaming your name as you and the ikran fell off the edge. 
As his mate leaned almost desperately over the edge, Jake forced himself to draw Bob back up, only for a few seconds - not to interfere with the rite. But it was in those few seconds he felt like his heart had stopped beating. 
There was that familiar screech again. 
Then you were soaring. 
Up in a straight line, past Neytiri and him. Tsaheylu clearly made as the ikran listened to your orders. 
There was a blinding grin on your face as you soared, clearly looking for him and letting out a whoop. 
The moment your eyes caught his, Jake felt his grin slip. 
Your eyes, open just moments before suddenly rolled back. Your whole body went slack as you fell over the side, your newly bonded ikran screeching at the sudden weightless feeling as the bond broke and your body went straight down. 
Jake hadn’t heard his desperate yell, this time diving down without stopping. 
He thought you were dead when he managed to catch you and flew back up, only to have Neytiri meet him in the air on her own mount, an expression so clearly in distress. Without a word, they both made haste back to the village, your newly bonded ikran following closely behind. 
“How is she?” His voice sounded like it had gone over fifty years of smoking with no water. It felt like his whole body was weighed down with stones. 
“She’s alive,” that’s all that Max could offer with a grim expression. “She will need surgery. The momentum of her slamming repeatedly against stones with the ikran’s weight on top has managed to collapse a lung.”
Jake had never wanted to sob like a newborn baby until now. But he needed to remain calm, or at least sane. For Neytiri’s sake, and your siblings.
“Usually surgeries like these lead to long-term conditions in life, but we’re certain that with the Na’vi biology she will heal just fine without complications. But it’s the healing that will take time.”
He was nodding along, but it felt like he was far away. Only hearing a slight inconsistent sound in his ears as he watched through the see-through glass into the room where you were all connected up to tubes and an oxygen mask. 
It was so human, the whole situation of you being in a hospital bed for avatars - Jake wanted to laugh. Not in humor, but maybe in slight delusion at the situation. 
“Okay, okay…” he swallowed. “Anything else?”
His human friend was taking pity on him, Jake knew. 
Max has been there since the beginning. Seeing Jake growing his own family and now being placed in this position. “Besides the broken wrist and strained ankle, it’s mostly cuts and bruises. So she will have to wear a brace as well as remain seated for the next week or so. And check-ups every three days.“
“Yeah, we can do that,” Jake croaked. “When’s the surgery?”
“As soon as possible.”
Another nod. “Thanks, man.”
“Of course.”
He had to nearly pry Netytiri away from you as she snarled protectively. But he had to explain that she couldn’t join in on the surgery due to contamination concerns. The whole room had to be fixed to match that of a Na’vi body, the surgeons wearing oxygen masks as the space was filled with Pandora’s toxic air for your sake. 
It was an open lung surgery, Jake had been told. A risky procedure even on earth. It had taken four hours. Four hours full of anxiety and fear. 
But you had pulled through, Max said, Norm closely behind with a relieved teary smile himself. The man was like another uncle to the kids despite his avatar form. He had watched their ceremonies, rites and connections to Eywa. So to Norm, this was just like a family member to him. 
You had slept for a full day and a half after the surgery, still confined to the avatar hospital room before your eyes had fluttered open with difficulty. A cough erupted followed by your painful whine at the action.
Netytiri had hushed you gently, crouching down and stroking your hair back. Fresh tears fell at seeing you conscious again after so long, sobs breaking out as you flashed a sleepy smile at her. 
Neytiri had felt like Eywa had pulled the entirety of Pandora away from underneath her feet during the hours of your examination and surgery. Clutching Jake to her and never wanting to let go as her oldest baby was at the mercy of nature and your own will to live through. 
But she knew. 
You were strong. You always had been. And you had fought. 
Neytiri had never imagined a day when one of her biggest nightmares nearly came to pass. 
To lose one of her children. 
She would rather throw herself off the highest point on Ayram alusìng than lose one of her precious babies before their time. She believed in Eywa with her whole heart and soul and knew their beings were only borrowed and one day had to be returned. 
But Eywa would not take her children away from her until Neytiri herself agreed. 
Until that time, she would do anything to protect them. But to have it happen during one of their most treasured rites in life had prevented her from doing many things. 
Interfering for once. Because you had said so before as if knowing how horribly wrong it could go. 
“Do not stop me, mama. I can do this on my own.”
Of course, you could. And you did. 
Despite having to brush the doors to Eywa’s home yourself to succeed. 
And as your parents carefully helped you back home to the village after five days of observation at Hell’s Gate after your surgery, you couldn’t help but snicker despite the stabs of pain.  
Your mom had admonished you gently to not aggravate your wounds. Whereas your dad held back the roll of his eyes with amusement tickling the sides of his mouth. 
“Why are you laughing, flower?”
Your grin was shit-eating as you looked up at him.
“My iknimaya was so much cooler than Toruk Makto’s.”
“You little skxawng.”
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I feel like I lowkey pulled this one out of my ass, but oh well. 
taglist: @nao-cchi @eywas-heir @ssc7514 @spicycloudsalad @calums-betch @httpjiikook @ricecakeslove @fanboyluvr @iwaslikeblah   @the-wandering-pan-ace @avatarloversblog @eternallyvenus @enchantinggoateefox @arianapntn @heydemonsitsme @slyvixen1029​ @promiseofeywa @love13tter @directioner5life @bambisposts-blogs​ @melllinaa​  @sugarmummystuff6​ @lovekeeho​ @hai-kbai​
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thisblogisaboutabook · 2 months
Text
Rainy Season - Part 2
What You Gonna Do?
Azriel x Reader
A short follow up to Rainy Season since you all have been so gracious with your responses - Initially I planned a time jump for part 2 but decided to give a taste of the aftermath of her leaving. Things will eventually look up for our girl, she’s just going through it right now. Stay tuned for more! I’ve decided to make this a short series.
Part 1 Part 3
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Warnings: cheating, language
Azriel
Who wakes you when the morning comes?
Azriel awoke to rays filling the room with brightness. Shit - he’d overslept. Why hadn’t Y/N woken him? He looked over to find the bed cold, as if it had been vacant for hours.
Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he wandered to the kitchen, lacking its welcoming aroma of fresh coffee and the sweet and savory aromas of pastries and bacon. No, it was totally empty.
Where was she?
“Y/N?” He groggily called out into the house.
Silence.
Slipping on a pair of pajama pants he wandered to the door. The chill of the house whipping against his bare, muscled abdomen.
Perhaps she was basking in the sunlight on the patio. He always loved how she looked in the morning rays - a deity in her own right. He should probably tell her that sometime.
Padding to the front door, two things caught his attention.
One, his clothes were strewn over top of his bag and two, a note was scrawled in her messy handwriting.
No - not a note. A list of rhetorical questions.
“Who wakes you when the morning comes?
Who gives you all she has to give?
Who fulfills all her promises?
Who sees the good in you?
What are you gonna do when I’m gone?
Where you gonna go when there’s nobody home?
Who’s gonna love you when you’re all alone?”
He dropped his head. Fuck - things were good last night. What happened? As he bent back down to clear up the strewn undergarments, the strong, sweet scent of Elain wafting into his nostrils.
No - those questions were not rhetorical. They were a plea. “Who?” Who is that person to him?
Clutching his chest he realized just how terrible a mistake he’d made when he fucked Elain.
—————
Y/N
The warm rays of the Summer Court and the overwhelming weight of crushing heartbreak greeted me bright and early. A mockery to the pouring rain I’d traveled through last night, showing up at my grandmother’s door like a drowned rat.
Instead of chastising me for how long it had been since I’d paid her a visit, her brown eyes only met me with compassion. She knew me well and every ounce of pain on my face spoke the words that I couldn’t get out.
She pulled me into a bone crushing hug, ran a hot bath and steeped a pot of tea before laying in bed behind me and running her fingers through my hair until my heaving sobs turned to shuddering breaths and eventually a deep sleep.
It was a strange feeling. It had been too long since I’d seen her and yet, she showed me more love and compassion in a span of three hours than I had in the last three years.
Thank the gods the rays woke me early as I had to make it to the palace in Adriata immediately.
“Leaving me so soon?” Grandmother asked as I hurried out the door. “Sorry! I promise I’ll be back before lunch.”
I’d only met Tarquin a handful of times but sensed that he was a kind, benevolent ruler. Still, I expected to meet with his officials before being granted access to his office but when he’d heard who was here to see him, he immediately made time for me.
By the end of our meeting, he’d granted me renewed citizenship in the Summer Court and wrote to Rhysand effectively barring Azriel from his court. Careful to not create tensions in the court, he revoked the current ban on Cassian so long as he could keep himself from destroying any more buildings within his court.
Despite my numb state, a small smile flickered across my face as I imagined Cassian’s reaction to the news. He wasn’t one to hold petty grudges but he certainly clung on to that of being banned from the Summer Court. I just hoped he wouldn’t be angry with me for leaving without saying goodbye.
Additionally, Tarquin discussed my skill set with me and by the end of the meeting I had been offered a paid position in teaching self-defense courses within the palace to a variety of age groups, primarily focusing on women and children. I brought few assets with me upon leaving the Night Court and my pride was too stubborn to withdraw any of the money from Azriel and I’s shared account when I left. No, I could do well enough on my own - thank you very much.
After the battle of Adriata, Tarquin had ramped up efforts of ensuring his citizens were better protected on all fronts so his offer was mutually beneficial for his court and me, ergo not solely extended out of pity. My pride beamed at that.
I gratefully accepted his offer.
—————
I returned home. Home? No, not home - to my grandmother’s house to find that my sister and nephew were there waiting for me.
“Oh my gods!!!!!” My sister Camila yelped. Practically tackling me.
“Gran! You didn’t tell me that Y/N was coming for lunch. You secretive old thing.”
Before he could say anything I swooped my nephew, Alex, up into my arms and - ouch, I was not as strong as I used to be because it was an effort to lift him. He’d grown at least a foot since the last time I’d seen him. A pang of guilt struck me out of my blissful state and back to reality at the thought. It had been far too long since I’d come to visit my family.
“Where’s Uncle Azriel?” he asked.
The question struck me like a knife. My expression faltering as I scrambled to regain composure. “He’s on a mission.” I lied.
My sister’s brows furrowed. She was always too good at reading me but thankfully she didn’t press further. I would talk to her when I was ready.
We spent the rest of the afternoon chatting and catching up. Alex animatedly told me of school and all of his friends - I couldn’t help but smile as the warm summer breeze whisped over my exposed skin. The tea tasted a little bit sweeter, the air a little fresher, and the company a little warmer.
—————
“Y/N?”
Rhysand’s distant voice echoed into my mind as I lay down for bed that night. I always forgot how far his daemati abilities could carry.
“Hello, Rhys.”
“I received Tarquin’s letter. Azriel has been on edge all day and…. Well, I’m not going to ask you to share anything you don’t want to but - it must have been bad. Take all the time you need.”
“I’m not coming back, Rhys.”
The words rolled through me so quickly that I almost believed them but I knew I’d need closure at some point. For now, I wasn’t ready for that.
Seeming to sense that exact thought Rhys only replied, “Write me or Feyre if you need anything at all.”
—————
Who cries knowing you don’t care?
Night time always brought out stronger emotions in me. I’d keep my emotional barriers held high all day but as the sun set, so did those walls. As I lay in bed that night the first waves of grief blew through me. Not a wave of my own grief which had been omnipresent within me but… Azriel’s grief through our bond.
Of course it took me leaving for him to feel anything toward me through our own mating bond. I shut it down as effectively as I could and cried. Tears of anger flowed as I realized that my presence was never enough but my absence was what it took for him to give a damn about me.
Who worries what the future holds?
I grieved the future that could have been ours had he only chosen me. I let the sobs pour out once again as his pain rolled through me in waves. He couldn’t even extend the courtesy of shutting down his end of the bond as he came to grips with the ramifications of his own actions. His emotions only brought me bitterness and maybe that was a flaw on my end but it sure as hell felt justified. I spent so long giving him everything and even now, I still receive only heartache in return.
Who’s tired of empty promises?
He swore he’d love me forever but forever only meant until someone better came along. Certainly it wouldn’t be long before he returned to Elain for comfort. Would he be courteous enough to shut down the bond then or would I feel the pleasure she brought as she soothed his emotional wounds then too? As he healed and made the same empty promises to her that he had to me? Hell, had he already made those promises to her? Would he hold to them for her?
What would he do now that I’m gone?
What would I do now that I’m gone?
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A/N brace yourselves, we’re getting a different character’s POV in the next chapter 😏 🔥
Tags:
@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26
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hotvintagepoll · 2 months
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Propaganda
Angela Lansbury (The Harvey Girls, The Court Jester, The Manchurian Candidate)—The babe, the myth, the legend. In her own words her early hollywood roles were "a series of venal bitches" and they were all glorious. Half of them wanted to kill you and you probably would have thanked them. She even goes toe to toe with Judy Garland in The Harvey Girls! That said, she was chronically underused and misused during this era - she was just 36 when she was cast as Elvis Presley's mother in Blue Hawaii and a few years later commented that she'd played so many 'old hags' that most people thought she was in her 60s. She thought she was "all talent, no looks" but she was the full package! Post-1970 I hope we all know what an incredibly talented and compassionate badass she was, but I feel like not enough people know her early roles as a hot (often villainous) young thing.
Angie Dickinson (Rio Bravo, Point Blank, Ocean's Eleven)—Though it could be argued that overall her career leans more to TV, during this time period she was splitting movie title credits with the very top names in the business.
This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Propaganda for Angie Dickinson:
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Propaganda for Angela Lansbury:
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"Angela Lansbury might not be where your mind goes first when you think of hot leading women, because she had a later career revival. But she began acting in the early 1940s after leaving London due to the Blitz. In the first couple decades of her film career she has an openness about her. She said she never really fit in with the Hollywood crowd and to me she gives off a friendly, untarnished vibe."
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"Most of us know Angela Lansbury as old lady sleuth Jessica Fletcher, but it's important to know that she was smoking hot in her younger days as well as a damned fine actress. Although she didn't get lead roles until her early 40s, at 17 she was a supporting actress in films such as Gaslight (1944), National Velvet (1944), and The Picture of Dorian Grey, for which she won the Golden Globe for best supporting actress and was nominated for the Oscar. Even in her memorable performance as the manipulative mother in The Manchurian Candidate, she is listed as a supporting actress as she does not play the love interest. She was successful both on stage and screen, and won the Tony for her lead role in the musical Mame on Broadway in 1966. TL;DR While Angela Lansbury mostly played supporting roles in films before 1970, she had what it takes to be a leading actress, which we know from her success on stage and tv from the mid 60s onward"
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"She looked like a princess but bit like a viper"
"Is there anything this woman couldn't do? Act in comedy and drama, sing, dance, be a wonderful human being - quite simply a true and wonderful lady."
"god she had such an incredible career all throughout her life really but as a young lady she was just as incredible as she was in her later years. enchanting voice, amazing personality, and absolutely GORGEOUS. she lamented not having the looks to play leads in romance but that idea is so batshit because look at her??? she's one of the most terrific women of all time. also she's my grandmother's favorite actress and i truly get it"
"she is the fairytale princess of my dreams in court jester"
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mockingkatniss · 2 months
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NEED A RIDE? - drug dealer!Coriolanus Snow
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18+ | nswf | mdni
warnings and tags: swearing, mention of drug dealing, smut, sloppy making out, multiple orgasms, blowjob, mention of gagging, body fluids, use of words like “wh0re” or “slu7”, specific body descriptions. BUZZCUT CORYO (little bit of a jump-scare for some of y’all) MODERN!AU, p in v sex, reader is just soft but not innocent, intese sex, porn without plot. (If I missed anything lmk).
(not proof read because I was tired, I will fix eventual errors <3)
summary: one particularly hot summer evening coryo sees you riding your bike while he’s driving he’s car around mindlessly and he ask you if you need a ride.
words count: 3.109k
Wanted to thank so so much @swiftiekisses because the drug dealer!coryo au it’s hers but she inspired me a lot and I also love so much her writing that I wanted to contribute with this fic! Also a big thanks to @euphemiaamillais because I’m literally addicted to what she writes and for inspirations for the drug dealer! au too! <3
enjoy and support me with a comment or a tiny heart! 💗🎀
coriolanus was driving by the quiet and deserted road of his god forsaken forgotten little town.
he hoped almost every morning to just wake up and found his rotten little city was torn down by some natural catastrophe.
he thought that dreams or ambitions couldn’t come true here. since his family lost everything due to his father's poor life choices, he was now stuck with poverty at 18 years and a cousin and grandmother to look after. more correctly just grandmother, since tigris left for college just the year prior.
to round some money he worked at the gas station, a literal hell hole in summer and plus coryo was sure he left part of his soul here, and sold some drugs to younger kids or kids his age at school or at parties but most of the times they directly came to the gas station.
if a drug had a name it was mostly probable that coryo had it to sell
that summer was cruel, sweat sticking to clothes and the asphalt so hot it could melt shoe soles, so cruel that coryo decided just two days ago to buzz his beautiful platinum curls off. the super short hair gave him a totally new appearance, he noticed that at the last party he went to sell, that mostly girls bought from him, stucking dollar bills inside his front jeans pocket and sometimes begging for a kiss or some good old make out. he accomplished and accepted that he was just extremely hot.
his car moaned underneath him as he drove, that old piece of garbage was still going on but coryo feared that someday he would be left walking.
it was 7:35 pm, his shift at the gas station over since sejanus plinth took his place for the night shift. sejanus was a nice kid, he was rich but decided to take another path just having shitty jobs during the summer like most teens even though for him it wasn't necessary having one. he didn’t sell drugs but he covered coryo so many times at school or at work so he was ok.
coryo had a small joint hanging from his lips as he drove, just one hand on the steering wheel and both the car’s windows opened since his ac was (obviously) broken, but even the air was heavy and warm that night.
miraculously the bluetooth radio was still working so he was listening to some trap rap music on his cracked up phone, the screen broken from everytime he made it fall while running away from cops or simply on the floor on a daily basis. as the music went on he thought about how the suggestion to listen to that genre of music came from clemensia e arachne at school, but it was nice for once not only listening to metal or punk rock.
while he took another hit from his joint something caught his eye on the road. it was a bike, someone was riding it and he probably knew who it could be.
the bike was faded pink with old stickers on it and you were riding it tiredly, legs sore and sweat sticking to your skin.
your tiny tight skirt was riding up a little showing some more of your thighs and coryo swore to god that he saw a glimpse of your pink panties.
sometimes you bought from him some weed and nothing more. you were a literal sunshine and at school you talked to everyone, being friendly and helpful. coryo still remembers how you helped him with physics the first year of highschool. you both were still young but nature obviously blessed you donating you such a sexy body.
he instantly felt his cock gently twitch into his jeans and he made the smoke from the joint exiting his nostrils in annoyance. don’t you get coryo wrong, he had sex and sure plenty of it but since the hot sticky summer he wasn’t feeling like it to just screw some girl even though he just needed to say the words. it was peculiar how his cock woke up just by seeing you.
he drove nearby you slowly to keep up with your velocity and you looked over to acknowledge the presence of a car and as you recognized the driver you smiled throughout puffed breaths from hotness and the riding.
coryo made a small smirk while pulling the joint away from his lips to talk. “hey bunny, need a ride?”. you slowly stopped your bike, tippy toes of your pink vans scratching on the asphalt. coryo stopped the car too and since the streets were dead he just got off his vehicle to look at you while positioning the almost finished joint on the car roof.
you panted lightly as you talked as you examined his presence. “it would be so nice coryo, I think I’m about to faint because of the heat”. he nodded understandingly with his head to the car behind him. “get on, I’ll get the bike” coryo thought he was going crazy when you got off the bike seat revealing more of your thighs. you collected your backpack and lifted yourself up on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek, strawberry lip gloss scent evident on his skin too now. “thank you coryo you’re my savior” you said before going to the opposite back of the car.
once the bike was fixed in the back he turned the car back on, securing his joint back around his lips once again while grabbing his lighter inside his jeans front pocket.
“where am I taking you?” he asked while lighting the joint to take a long drag before passing it to you. “I’m going to my dads house, it’s near the football field, 32nd house” you explained as coryo nodded knowing where it was since he spent much more time driving around in his free time than anything else. you also accepted the joint starting to smoke with relaxed muscles.
coryo looked over at you while driving, there was a peaceful silence. his elbow leaned outside the car’s window as his slim fingers tapped the steering wheel gently while driving. you noticed his rings decorating his fingers and his new buzz cut hair made his features even more sharp. you took three puffs from the joint handing him it back while caressing your naked thighs trying to pull down the miniskirt.
coryo savored till the last minute your lucid lips around the filter that he made, somehow the sweat made your skin warm and inviting, the blonde felt his cock twitch again and he fixed himself on the seat while trusting with his hips forward. he coughed a bit taking the last puff while tossing the dead joint outside the car. “how's it going in general?” you asked softly feeling already your head light but not too much, it was pleasant. “mh it’s ok, it’s too hot to work or to do anything else, I just want winter back” coryo explained briefly, voice slightly rough from smoking. you chuckled while leaning over to him to pinch his cheek softly. “awww snow wants his snow back doesn’t he?” coryo smiled while looking over to her, instinctively he turned over his face to scratch your fingers with his teeth playfully as you kept messing with him. “by the way, you look good today, bunny, but riding that bike with just this tiny skirt? a little bit dangerous don’t you think?” he asked while gripping the steering wheel with both hands. “how is it dangerous? riding my bike won’t stop me” you felt like wanting to touch him so much, so you placed your hand on his thigh. coryo was one of the hottest boys at school and his reputation made him even hotter and you were a total slut for bad boys.
at your gesture he stiffened a bit looking down at you delicately manicured hand and you kept caressing him going higher and higher but stopping just before his crotch. “can’t keep your hands to yourself now?” he tried to be ironic but just your presence had made him incredibly hard and it was difficult to not stop the car and fuck you in the back seats, your pretty head pressed into the plush of the seats. “maybe I don’t want to keep them to myself” you shrugged while pulling away your hand as he stopped the car in front of your dads house.
he exited the car while trying to hide his hard on while pulling his jeans around to crotch to fix the situation but nothing was effective. coryo pulled your bike outside the back of his car and you thanked him again while kissing his cheek but making the kiss longer. he sighed with a smirk while placing his big warm hand on your hips. you caressed his chest while looking up at him, a small pout on your lips. “you’re busy?” you asked, your long lashes batting at him inviting. “mmh no bunny, i’ll probably just go home, smoke again and collapse on my bed” his thumbs caressed your exposed skin just a little bit above your skirt. “why don’t you come inside? my dads busy he won’t be home till tomorrow noon” you swayed your hips a bit with pleading eyes. “fuck bunny you’re truly tempting but-“ you interrupted him while taking his hand, pulling him towards the house. coryo gave in, closing the car with his keys by distance and following you inside. you were making him feral with your temptations and soft eyes.
thank god the house had an ac so it was cooler inside. you tossed your shoes away together with your backpack and went to the kitchen to collect some water for you both and coryo looked around noticing how the house was elegant and well kept.
he slipped off his beaten up black combat boots and just sat on the big couch. he almost sunk inside it, noticing it was a water couch and smirked as dirty thoughts filled his head.
“the water couch is amazing isn’t it?” you giggled while handing him a glass of water while bouncing next to him making the couch move in small waves. “yeah pretty comfortable” he said as he leaned the glass to his lips not looking away from you for any second.
you then smiled mischievously while slipping down the couch, your knees sinking in the soft fluffy carpet. you positioned yourself between his legs while going for the zipper of his pants pulling it down with pure eyes. coryo almost choked on his water as he looked at you with pleased eyes and a big smirk on his lips. “what the fuck are you doing bunny?” he breathed out a laugh as you tried to pull down his pants together with his boxers. “I want to suck you off so bad so lift up your butt now” your tone was playful and demanding and he did as you said making you able to pull his jeans and boxers down making his pink cock sprung to life. it leaned against his tummy perfectly. “what did I do to deserve something like this without even asking?” he placed his hands behind his head pushing his hips up so he could sink more into the water couch. “nothing special but you’re fucking hot and I can’t wait anymore,” you paused to spit on his tip gently while pushing some curls behind your ears. “and I just know you’re good at selling as you’re good at fucking” you giggled while finally gripping his base. “I knew you were big, shit” you were already fantasizing about taking him deep and hard inside your cunt. “you knew?” coryo laughed again but his breath was getting ragged slightly.
you just didn’t respond, kitten licking his tip and collecting precum as you looked up at him. he bit his bottom lip harshly to just concentrate not to burst his cum all over your pretty glittery makeup and long lashes.
you kissed his length till the base then licking a long stripe back up till you swallowed half his cock allowing space with your tongue and cheek. you started to suck and lick and the moans he was making were pornographic.
after a while saliva was dripping down your chin mostly when you decided to deepthroat him with a fluid movement making the water couch sway gently. “ah fuck bunny, you’re so fucking good” coryo moaned, lust clouding his blue eyes as he gripped your curls to buck into your throat just two times just to hear you gag shamelessly around his cock.
you smiled through teary lashes and bubbles of saliva and lifted your head to just suck at his tip harshly.
“shit- I’m gonna come bunny” coryo announced as you jerked off the rest of his cock while concentrating on the tip. at his words you pulled away standing up and his angry cock just leaned against his tummy as he bucked into air. “are you completely mad you fucking slut?” he said impulsively, the ruined orgasm hitting something into his mind profoundly.
you just smirked while slipping off your crop top and miniskirt. “what did you just call me coryo?” you asked while undoing your bra and slipping off your soaked pink panties. his mouth was slightly agape at your naked body, eyes obsessed. “I said you’re a whore, a slut” he said slowly and challengingly, lips mimicking each final letter. “oh yeah? let this slut show you how much of a whore she is.” you walked on the couch standing above him both of your feet planted on each side of his legs making the water couch giggle.
he was completely transfixed as you opened your legs leaning one of your knees on the headset of the couch. you grabbed his head from behind pushing his mouth on your dripping core.
coryo thought about cumming just from that, just from the smell of your juices and the taste of it.
it was so intense, his tongue lapping at your folds once in a while stopping to suck on your lips or clit while humming. his big hands gripped your ass squishing the plush meat here to push his face further into you.
you were a complete mess as you scratched his head and moaned shamelessly and loudly, hips bucking as you trusted him keeping you up to not let you fall.
“fuck coryo! fuck I’m coming!” you chanted as you gripped his head, legs quivering as your juices splashed into his face. coryo felt on cloud nine as he gripped your hips to not let you fall as he lapped at your juice like the starving dog he was. dying by suffocation from your pussy seemed the only best thing he could think of at the moment.
you came down from your high slipping down as you sat on his lap, grabbing his neck to kiss him sloppily to taste yourself in his mouth. you sucked his tongue, licked the roof of his mouth and even licked his teeth while he playfully rubbed your clit. “mh! I’m sensitive-“ you lamented while pushing his hand away, your lips glistening with his saliva. “I need you inside now coryo” you gently kissed his jawline and neck while rubbing your pussy onto his still angry cock. “your wish is my demand bunny but you’re not gonna come again sooner or later” as he said so with his low voice he pushed his cock inside of your thigh pussy helping himself with his fingers and you laughed a moan while arching and sitting fully on his hard member. he immediately hit your cervix so good you felt helpless.
it was the most passionate and sloppiest sex of your entire life. you rode him like your entire existence depended on it, you knees sunk into the water couch as you bounced on his cock helped by the gentle waves. his hands were placed right on top of your ribs as your hips were too quick to control anyways. you pushed your head so hard against his that your noses squished together as your forehead and your moans and shouts tangled together. both mouths opened, eyebrows furrowed.
coryo didn’t even remember his name anymore when you clenched hard around him signaling somehow that you were close. “stupid bunny thought she could come yeah?” he murmured around a moan as he gripped hard your ass to stop your intense riding. “what the fuck coryo? don’t stop please, fuck!” you lamented but when he pushed your back into the couch your eyes rolled in the back of your skull. coryo fucked into you helplessly, his orgasm close. your back arched and he massaged your breasts cupping them harshly. “shit fuck! I’m coming” he moaned, eyes fluttering close for a minute. to make you pay he pulled out, cum splashing on your tummy and even on your breasts from the intensity of it and you cried out loud from the loss of his cock inside of you. you even laughed a bit through cries because of where his cum landed but then you gripped his ear angrily. “make me come coryo, make me fucking come” she arched rubbing her pussy against his worked out cock. coryo panted a laugh and gripped your jaw with his hand tightly before leaning over to bit and pull your lower lip. he massaged your clit with all of his hand opened while looking at you. “look at your fucked out face, you’re completely drunk on my cock” he laughed again mischievously just to degrade you. he rubbed your entire pussy quickly, slapping your clit once in a while. “now you’re gonna come and admit that only my cock can make you this fucked up mh?” you nodded, eyes rolling once in a while. “yes, yes coryo, only you, only want your cock” he chuckled again while his hand kept going. “that’s what I wanted to hear bunny” at his last words you came, the orgasm making your entire skeleton tremble in pure bliss. you cried his name with your mouth wide open.
when you calmed down a bit he was just caressing your thighs while admiring your body painted with his cum and you smiled while stretching out a bit. “next time you’re gonna come inside coryo” you said it so naturally with a small smile and a yawn and coryo playfully slapped your sensitive clit with two fingers making you whine a bit. “I'm looking forward to the next time in like, 10 minutes, bunny.”
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rabdoidal · 2 years
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I’ve been thinking a lot about how gay people say I love you, and I mean that literally. 
I’ve known people for a few hours most, and said “I love you” and meant it - new years parties, university tutorials, anime conventions - the gay woman who was a friend of a friend giving my friends and I a lift home in the winter cold was an angel, and I meant it when I said “Thank you, I love you, get home safe.” The person from high school that I lost touch with then reconnected with telling me about their girlfriend was like filling my lungs again for the first time in years, and I meant it when I said “Please, next time bring your girlfriend, I love her already.” My grandmother that told me about how she used to use bandages to bind back in the 80s and how her first husband was gay was the first person in my family to make me feel normal, and I meant it when I said “I love you, I hope you’re happy now.” The friend I found through our shared love of Scooby Doo and then proceeded to run the gamut of labels and pronouns with is my home 8000 miles away, and I still mean it when I say “I love you, we should call more.” And I mean it when I scream “I love you” to every person I meet in fleeting hugs and hand-holds at the pride parade, even when I’m overstimulated and exhausted by the time I get home, glitter-sick and shy.
I think we say I love you for every reason you could say I love you, but more than anything, it’s the simple fact of seeing someone who is your family that makes you want to grab them by the shoulders and tell them that you love them. Gay people have such a long history of being family and community when no one else would take us, and every time I see someone being openly queer, I love them. I love your smeared lip-gloss and your septum piercing and your dyed hair and your crooked teeth and your leather harness and your pronoun pins and your Doc Martens and your chipped nail polish and your loud laugh and your T-beard and your Adam's apple and the way you twirl a little clumsily in your skirt. It’s 100 meanings of the word - what you said was funny, I love you - you’re a dickhead, but I love you - I’m glad you figured things out, I love you - you don’t need to say anything, I love you - thank God there’s another trans person here, I love you - you make me feel whole, I love you - we hurt each other, but I still love you.
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