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Summary
Ilya picks up on the third ring, breathing heavily into the phone. Shane hears a door slam shut through the device. “Do not yell at me.”
Shane stares at the half-empty bottle of vodka on the coffee table. “You suck.”
“I suck? I scored hat-trick! In your stupid body! I have not eaten in six hours, Hollander. I have not pissed. I have not laid down. I want to go home.”
“Rozanov–”
“Your mother has called twenty times. Your manager has called thirty times. Your father text me picture of crossword puzzle and ask for help. Clue is about American President from the 1980s. I cannot help!”
OR: the hollanov bodyswap fic.
Series
- Part 3 of ejo + hr
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Summary
Troy is a Child of Aphodite; he loves makeup and hair care and gossiping about crushes and lost loves.
He is everything one can expect from a child of the Goddess of Love.
He takes after her in so many ways.
Not all of them are good.
Series
- Part 4 of Nonsense Stories
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The Kind That Hopes by delicateasahorse
Fandoms: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
07 Apr 2025
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Summary
Luke returns from his first quest alone—poisoned, grieving, and hollow. His friends are dead. His father is waiting. And Mercury finds him first.
There are many kinds of foolishness.
Luke only knows his is the kind that hopes. So when a god offers him structure—he accepts.
(Roman ≠ Greek.)
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Lussuria The Fairy Godmother and How That Happened by Shadowblayze
Fandoms: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
29 Aug 2015
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Summary
Lussuria took one look at the small boy who smiling up at him with wide, hopeful green eyes and knew that he wasn't going to be able to just leave him behind.
Series
- Part 1 of Fragments 'Verse
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Summary
Something in Snape stirred at that, just as it had stirred at the fraility of Lupin's naked form, the pain in his exhausted face, the resignation in his voice. Something that wanted to feel a connection, a companionship with another weary spirit, beaten down but carrying on through sheer will. He quenched it with the same passion with which he had crushed out his earlier impulse of pity. There was no space for this. It was too late.
