#charmingpipes

send a ‘✌'  for a gizoogled confession.

You have a nice bottom.

Yo ass gotz a sick bottom.

Thank you, anon! I knew there were some around here but unfortunately I couldn't find them when searching the tags.

charmingpipes and clumsysonofmars have been added to the PJO Canon List

Send “Little thing” and my character will tell you something as a child.

"They told me foreigners are bad people who want to do bad things to Rome, but you're pretty..." The boy admitted while rather mesmerized. 

The last attack from those damned Venti really took a toll on the hull of Leo’s precious Argo II, so this clearly called for an emergency landing even with an imminent apocalypse not far away. Jason knew it was necessary, so he saw no reason to object. He sat on the edge of the prow, not far from Festus’ head. He could hear the metallic clinks and creaks that almost sounded like complaints from the dragon, but Jason always felt far more clear headed when he could sit as close to the sky as possible. The ground was looming closer and the landscape was becoming rather detailed—some deserted island, it seemed. However, he was suspicious of this island being anything but what it seemed. The last thing he needed it to be was Themyscira or something…

Jason jumped from the ship, letting himself plummet to the ground at high descending speeds. When he was roughly one hundred feet from the ground, he tugged hard in his gut, leveling himself out just in time. The rush was exciting—something he couldn’t always indulge in at Camp Jupiter. Before he planted his feet on the ground, he hovered slightly and inspected the sand, almost expecting Gaea’s face to appear. All seemed well, so he summoned a lightning bolt with the tip of his gladius as the receiving end to signal all was well.

Eventually, the Argo II was finally docked, the calm ocean swaying it as Leo anchored it down off shore and began to work. Annabeth and Percy were lounging about in the water, the son of Poseidon performing silly waterworks as if it were impressive. Frank and Hazel scouted about like true Romans, their curiosity apparent as Frank went in search of local life—never know what you’ll find and be able to manipulate later. All that was left was Jason and Piper, though he didn’t see her anywhere. With his gladius still drawn out, Jason began to practice his formations.

Send me "ff+" and a character name and my character will react to finding and reading a graphic and sex-filled fanfiction of themselves and that character.

Jason vigorously took in all the words in explicit detail, nodding sometimes, disagreeing here and there, and all the while feeling suddenly...anxious. Oh boy, better slow down there, buddy.

"Now this..."

My muse is under a love spell! First person to put ‘♥’ in my ask has my muse head over heels for yours!

Something stung on Jason’s butt cheek. It felt like a bee sting, but he couldn’t be certain what the heck it was. However, after he felt that sting, he looked right at Piper, about to tell her about his sudden pain.

"Hey, Pipes, I—"

Whoa. That creamy caramel skin, those irregular braids, the feathers fluttering in her hair, the kaleidoscopes in her eyes, that cinnamon scent, those luscious lips! By Jove, she was the one!

Jason suddenly forgot the pain and swooped in, picking her up under her legs and holding her by the back, wiggling his eyebrows at her as he held her. He grinned and clicked his tongue once, liking what he saw.

"…I’m-a lookin’, and I’m-a likin…"

Send a ❦ for your character to meet my character's parents!

"Hey, uh, dad, a little help here?" He asked, practically pleading as he nudged the statue of Jup--Zeus. Zeus. The statue of Zeus. He kept forgetting that part.

Nothing.

Not even a thunder rumble or lightning bolt.

He turned back to Piper, unsuccessful in the attempt and sighed, shrugging.

Jason has a problem.The horse stunk of wine, body odor, and Greeks. The situation was awkward to say the least, being stuffed in a wooden contraption dedicated to the Grecian God Poseidon and having absolutely no clue why he’s there, why he’s in the attire of a Grecian hoplite, and why he knew that it belonged to a hoplite. He glanced about with astonishment at the men around him, all of whom were deathly silent. One met his eyes, sharpening his glare as if it had been a blade to Jason’s throat. The man, who he could only assume was the captain of this fine company, held a finger to his lips as he noticed Jason’s obvious panic. The tight space, the humid air, the putrid odors, and the whole situation just made Jason uncomfortable. That’s when he felt the lurch.

The contraption began to move. All of the hoplites suddenly wrapped their hands around the hilts of their swords, awaiting the ambush they plotted with a ferocious eagerness. Jason had no idea where he was or why they were so determined, but he fell in line with them in order to not be the first man dead in this assault. He didn’t even want to participate as this was not his battle—or was it? He could not remember. Nothing made sense yet. Honestly, his own name was a riddle to him—all he could remember was Jason.

As sudden as the towering equestrian began its trot, it ceased movement. Jason smelled some new, foul scent on the air.

“Is it warmer in here or is it just me?” He whispered, knowing it wouldn’t be wise to speak up.

“Hoplites, at the ready, and you, boy, shut your mouth before I do it for y—“

Just as soon as the captain bothered to even speak, a panic erupted within the horse. Flames were engulfing the exterior—everything was going wrong and Jason was now going to die within the bowels of a flaming wooden horse with no answers about who the Hades he was.

“Well, friends, I’m not sitting around to roast in here!” He yelled as the uproar ensued.

Feeling a tug in his gut, he focused some sort of pressure in his feet and vaulted through the horse’s butt—even with the helmet, this hurt. He landed rather gracefully albeit his exit being very peculiar. Stumbling to the ground as if the air carried him, Jason toppled in front of a young woman with a torch, glancing up at her with a lopsided grin as if he was not some foreign invader within her homeland.