#I'm trying to get out of my habit of how dark my stuff can get like i want more hope but i think maybe this has that??? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wannabehockeygf · 11 days

Text

messier - luke hughes

part of the think later fic series

"You're the only one, Who can boil my blood, And make that shit cut, 'Cause you know that I'm always yours, I'm so in love."

*** request: "can we get Luke Hughes and messier pleaseee some angst then smut" summary: visiting your boyfriend's childhood home didn't go was well as you hoped... word count: 5.8k pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader warnings: 18+ NSFW! fingering (f receiving), sex in a semi-public place (in a car) but other than that nothing, pretty tame smut.

notes:

hi guys i'm back sorry my brain has been rotting this entire weekend

this is pretty tame, gentle smut because I've written so much rough stuff recently I needed a detox.

requesters. i love ya'll but we need to make a habit of giving me some sort of guideline besides genre. i suck so much ass at making tropes.

my first luke fic lol

also yes, I’m well aware that Jim and Ellen nor Quinn would ever be mean but this is pretty much the only idea I head

not proof read!!!

***

You hate road trips.

The endless stretch of highway, the stiff leather seats clinging to your skin, and the way time seems to crawl backward. It’s not even the scenery—darkness had swallowed the landscape hours ago, leaving you in this metal box on wheels with nothing but the hum of the engine and the occasional flash of headlights. You’d always preferred flying. Short, direct, and quick. But no, Luke insisted. “It’ll be good for us,” he’d said, like this visit to Toronto to his childhood home was some sort of bonding exercise rather than a trial by fire.

Well, the way there had been fine. More than fine, actually. Jack came along for the ride, filling the hours with nonstop chatter. You didn’t have to think or drive, just laugh at his dumb jokes and let the miles blur together. It was almost fun.

But now? Now, it’s just you and Luke. Jack had opted to fly back to Jersey, and the silence in the car felt suffocating. The weight of the weekend pressed against your chest like a rock you couldn’t shake off. It all went wrong the moment you stepped foot in their house. Their eyes, the judgment—thinly veiled but thick enough to cut through. His mom’s smile never quite reached her eyes, his dad’s questions too sharp, like they were trying to pry something out of you. And Quinn... you don’t even want to think about how Luke’s older brother barely looked at you, as if you didn’t exist.

Gold digger.

They didn’t say it, but you felt it in every sideways glance, every half-hearted attempt at conversation. It stung. You shift uncomfortably in the passenger seat, staring out the window at nothing but blackness.

“You’re too quiet,” Luke says, his voice breaking the silence, but it doesn’t soothe you like it usually does.

“Hmm,” you respond, noncommittal.

He sighs, shifting in his seat. “You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?”

“Thinking about what exactly, Luke?” You snap, before you can stop yourself. The tension’s been building, and now it’s spilling over. “How your parents probably think I’m only with you because of who you are?”

The headlights illuminate the curve of his jaw as he clenches it. “They don’t think that.”

“They do, though!” You turn toward him now, your voice rising with each word. “It was written all over their faces. I’m not good enough for you, right? Why would I be?”

The passing headlights flash across Luke’s face in rhythmic intervals, casting sharp shadows across his jawline, making him look as frustrated as you feel. You hate that his jaw is clenched like that, hate that even now, in the middle of an argument, he looks perfect, unbothered, like this isn’t tearing at him the way it’s tearing at you.

Luke grips the steering wheel a little tighter, his knuckles whitening under the strain. “They don’t think that,” he repeats, like if he says it enough, it’ll become the truth. His voice is steady, but you hear the edge in it, the frustration that’s been simmering beneath the surface since you left his parents’ house. He always gets like this when you bring it up—as if acknowledging the problem will somehow make it worse.

But it’s already bad. “Luke, please.” You shift in your seat, your hands gesturing helplessly in the small space between you. “They didn’t have to say it out loud. I could feel it.” Your voice is shaky, betraying the vulnerability you’ve been trying to keep locked away since Friday. “Your mom looked at me like I was some kind of—” you search for the right word, something that encapsulates the disappointment that had been practically dripping from her, “—charity case.”

You hear his deep exhale, the frustration in it. He’s always been calm, steady, the kind of guy who doesn’t let things get to him. It’s one of the things you loved about him—his ability to stay grounded when everything around him seemed to be spinning out of control. But right now? Right now, it’s infuriating. How can he be so calm when you’re falling apart?

He runs a hand through his hair, the action a little too deliberate, like he’s trying to stay composed. “You’re reading into it too much,” he says, glancing over at you briefly, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the dashboard. “My mom’s just... cautious. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you.”

A bitter laugh escapes your lips before you can stop it. “Cautious?” The word tastes sour in your mouth. “She practically grilled me about every job I’ve ever had like she was waiting for me to slip up and admit I’ve been freeloading my entire life.”

Luke presses his lips together, the muscle in his jaw ticking again. He doesn’t answer right away, and that silence stretches between you, pulling tight like a thread about to snap. His eyes stay on the road, but you can tell he’s thinking about what to say, about how to avoid turning this into a full-blown argument. He’s good at that—at diffusing things before they can blow up. Normally, you’d appreciate it. But right now, you need him to blow up with you, to feel what you’re feeling.

“Look,” he starts, his voice low and careful, “I get that it wasn’t... easy, okay? But you don’t know my mom like I do. She’s protective, that’s all.”

“Protective?” You scoff, louder than you meant to, the word coming out jagged. “Protective of you from what? Me?” The accusation hangs in the air, sharp and undeniable. You don’t need to hear his answer to know it’s true. You’ve known it from the moment she gave you that polite smile at the door, the kind of smile that doesn’t reach the eyes, the kind of smile that says, I’m being nice, but I don’t trust you. You’ve seen it before, just never aimed at you. “She doesn’t trust me, Luke.”

He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly like he’s trying to keep his own frustration in check. “It’s not that she doesn’t trust you,” he mutters, but even he sounds unsure now. “She’s just... adjusting. Give her time.”

You let out a huff of disbelief, shaking your head. The dark road ahead feels endless, like you’re driving in circles, like this conversation is just looping back to the same point over and over again. “Adjusting to what?” Your voice cracks, and you hate that it does because it makes you sound more vulnerable than you want to be right now. “To the fact that I’m not some high-society debutante with a trust fund? Or is it just that I’m not good enough for their golden boy? Don’t pretend your dad didn’t do the same shit, and Quinn? Barely fucking looked at me.” Luke rubs his temple with one hand, the other still gripping the wheel. “Quinn’s just quiet, you know that. He didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Right,” you mutter, bitterness slipping into your tone. “I’m sure it’s not because he thinks I’m not good enough for you. It’s not like literally everyone else was thinking the same thing.”

“They weren’t!” Luke insists, his voice rising, frustration creeping in now. His grip on the wheel tightens, and for a second, you think he’s going to snap. You almost want him to, to raise his voice, to match the energy that’s been building inside you all night. But instead, he just sighs again, that same exhausted sound that feels like nails on a chalkboard. “Stop it,” he says quietly, his voice firm but tired. “Stop worrying about what they think. It doesn’t matter.”

But it does. It matters so much it’s consuming you. You turn to stare out the window again, the landscape outside a blur of darkness. The silence in the car is deafening now, the kind that fills every crevice and drowns out the hum of the engine. You can’t stand it anymore.

“Easy for you to say,” you mutter under your breath, half-hoping he doesn’t hear you, half-hoping he does. “You’re their son. They’ll always love you, no matter what. But me? I’m just some girl they think is using you for your money or your status or... whatever.” Your hands are trembling, but you clasp them together in your lap, trying to steady yourself.

Luke’s jaw clenches again, and this time when he speaks, there’s an edge to his voice that wasn’t there before. “You’re not ‘just some girl,’” he bites out, finally letting some of that frustration slip through. “And they don’t think that.”

“How do you know?” You turn to him, your voice rising again, the words spilling out faster than you can control them. “How do you know what they think? You weren’t the one sitting there, being interrogated like you’re on trial!”

His eyes flick over to you, narrowed and sharp. “I know my family, okay? You don’t. You’ve met them what—twice? Three times?”

Your chest tightens at that. You’ve never felt more like an outsider than you do right now, like you’re intruding on something sacred, something you don’t have the right to understand. It makes you feel small, insignificant, like you’ll never truly belong. And maybe you won’t. Maybe they’ll always see you as the girl who’s not quite good enough for their perfect son.

“Yeah, well, maybe that’s the problem,” you snap, your voice cracking again. “Maybe I don’t know them because they don’t want to know me.”

The words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, you think you might’ve gone too far. But then Luke exhales sharply, shaking his head like he can’t believe you’re having this argument. His fingers drum against the steering wheel, and when he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost tired. “You’re impossible sometimes, you know that?”

Your fingers twitch in your lap, itching to do something—anything. You could reach for the radio, but that feels like a betrayal, a cowardly way of cutting through the tension without addressing it. You steal a glance at Luke, but his gaze is trained on the road, jaw set, eyes forward. His hand grips the steering wheel tighter than necessary, knuckles pale, and the leather creaks under the pressure.

You can’t take it anymore.

“Impossible?” you repeat, your voice cutting through the still air like a knife. The words echo back at you, sharp and unforgiving, and suddenly, there’s no holding back the flood. “You think I’m the one being impossible?”

He doesn’t respond right away, just lets out a long, heavy sigh. It’s the kind of sigh that says, here we go again, and it makes your blood boil. Like you’re the problem. Like your feelings are the inconvenience here, something to be tolerated rather than understood.

You don’t let the silence linger this time. “God, you always do this,” you mutter, shaking your head as you stare out the window, watching the dark blur of trees rush past. “Every time I bring this up, you act like I’m crazy. Like I’m just imagining it all.” You pause for a breath, but it comes out shaky. “Do you think I want to feel like this?”

Luke shifts in his seat, and for a second, you think he’s about to say something, but all he does is keep drumming his fingers impatiently on the wheel. It’s almost worse than if he’d argued back. At least then you’d know he cared enough to fight with you.

The silence stretches, suffocating, until finally, his voice cuts through it, low and strained. “I just don’t know why you let it get to you like this.”

“Let it?” The disbelief in your voice is almost tangible, hanging heavy in the air between you. “As if I have a choice? As if I can just flip a switch and suddenly not care that your family thinks I’m some... leech or gold digger or—” You break off, your breath hitching slightly, the words too bitter to finish.

Luke’s eyes flick to you for the briefest second before returning to the road, his jaw clenching again. “You’re overthinking it.”

It’s the casual dismissal, the sheer indifference, that makes something inside you snap. “I’m not overthinking it!” you nearly shout, the words bursting out of you before you can reel them back in. Your heart pounds in your chest, the frustration bubbling up until you can feel it in every nerve, every muscle, making you fidget and shift in your seat like you’re too restless to stay still.

Luke slams his hand against the steering wheel, not hard enough to scare you, but enough to make a point. He lets out a frustrated puff of air, and he mutters something under his breath—something you can’t quite catch but know isn’t good. His frustration mirrors your own, though his is quieter, more controlled. His eyes stay locked on the road as he speaks, his voice cold. “Why do you care so much about what they think? Why does it have to matter?”

You stare at him, incredulous. Why does it have to matter? Is he serious? The words swirl in your head, disbelief mixing with anger, making it hard to think straight. How could he not see it? How could he not understand?

“I care because they’re your family!” you snap, the words flying out of your mouth before you can stop them. “I care because no matter how much you tell me it doesn’t matter, I know it does. You love them, Luke. You value their opinion, even if you won’t admit it. So yeah, I care about what they think of me.”

His grip on the steering wheel tightens, his fingers turning white again. His silence now feels like a challenge, like he’s daring you to keep going, to keep pushing. You almost want to—almost want to see just how far you can push him before he finally snaps.

And then, just as you’re about to spit out something else, something that will no doubt escalate this even further, Luke suddenly jerks the steering wheel to the right. The car swerves slightly as he takes an exit ramp, the tires squealing against the asphalt. You lurch forward in your seat, your heart pounding in your chest as the sudden movement jolts you out of your anger for a split second.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice rising with panic and confusion as you glance around, realizing that you’re nowhere near home. The highway disappears behind you, replaced by a narrow, deserted road lined with thick trees on either side.

Luke doesn’t answer immediately, his jaw still clenched, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. The tension in the car is palpable, hanging heavy between you like a storm cloud about to burst. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he pulls off to the side of the road, the car coming to a stop in a small clearing, illuminated only by the faint glow of the headlights.

The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the soft ticking of the engine as it cools down. For a moment, neither of you moves. The weight of everything hangs in the air, pressing down on your chest like a stone.

Luke turns off the engine and leans back in his seat, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I just—” He pauses, exhaling sharply, and finally turns to look at you. His eyes are dark, intense, and there’s something simmering just beneath the surface, something raw. “I needed to get off the damn highway. We weren’t getting anywhere.”

The double meaning in his words isn’t lost on you. It wasn’t just the road he was frustrated with—it was the entire situation. The argument. You. And that realization sends a shiver down your spine.

You sit there, staring at him, unsure of what to say. Your heart is still racing, your hands trembling slightly in your lap. But the anger you felt before is starting to ebb away, replaced by something else—something quieter, but no less intense.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching for him, your fingers grazing his arm lightly, tentatively. He glances down at your hand, then back up at you, his eyes softening just a fraction.

“Come here,” he says quietly, his voice low and rough around the edges. It’s not a demand, but it’s not a suggestion either. There’s a weight to his words, a pull that you can’t resist.

Without thinking, you unbuckle your seatbelt and move toward him, your body shifting awkwardly in the cramped space. Luke’s hands are on you before you even reach the back seat, his fingers gripping your waist as he pulls you into the space between the seats. The leather squeaks beneath you as you settle into the back, the air between you charged with an energy you can’t quite define—part frustration, part need.

He moves over the console to join you, and in the dim light, the shadows carve out every sharp line of his face, highlighting the tension that’s still etched there. But now, there’s something else in his eyes, something that makes your breath catch.

“I hate that you think that,” Luke murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as he leans in, his forehead resting against yours. His breath is warm against your skin, mingling with yours in the small space. “I hate that you think you’re not good enough.” His hand slips around to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you closer.

You pull back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, and the softness in his eyes almost makes you forget why you’re upset in the first place. But then the worry, the doubts, creep back in, unbidden. "I just—" you start, your voice thick with frustration. "I can't stop thinking about how they see me. It's like... no matter what I do, it’s never enough."

Luke's expression tightens again, a flicker of impatience crossing his face. He pulls away just enough to lean back against the seat, running a hand through his hair. "Why do you keep doing this to yourself?" His voice is laced with exasperation, but there’s something else there too—concern, maybe. "They don’t matter. We matter. Isn’t that enough?"

You want to believe him, you really do. But it’s like every word he says just sinks deeper into the pit of your stomach, twisting. "You say that, but... God, Luke, it’s not that simple. You don’t get it because you’re not the one constantly under their microscope." The words spill out before you can stop them, your frustration bubbling up again.

Luke shakes his head, a small, humorless laugh escaping him as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. "No, you’re right," he mutters, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "I don’t get it. But you know what I do get?" He pauses, and for a second, you think he’s going to stop there, but he pushes on, his voice lower now, almost a growl. "I get that I’m sitting here, telling you that none of it matters. And you’re sitting there, acting like it’s the end of the world."

You open your mouth to respond, but the words die on your lips as he leans in closer, his hand sliding up your thigh. "What I don’t get," he continues, his voice softening but still carrying that edge, "Is why you can’t just trust me when I say you’re enough."

Your breath hitches as his fingers trace slow, deliberate circles against your leg, the tension in the car shifting from the argument to something else entirely. You try to stay focused, try to keep your mind on the conversation, but his touch is distracting, making it hard to think straight.

"I... I do trust you," you stammer, your voice unsteady, "but it’s not that easy. You don’t just stop worrying because someone tells you to."

Luke raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Oh, really?" he murmurs, his hand moving higher, his eyes locking onto yours. "Maybe I just haven’t been convincing enough."

His words send a jolt through you, heat pooling in your stomach, and suddenly, the argument feels like a distant memory, something less important than the way he’s looking at you now, like he’s daring you to keep pushing him. And maybe you would have, if his hand wasn’t already slipping under your shirt, his fingers warm against your skin, making it impossible to think about anything else.

You let out a shaky breath, your body leaning into his touch despite your mind screaming at you to stay focused. "Luke..." you start, but the rest of the sentence dies in your throat as he leans in, his lips ghosting over your ear.

"Stop worrying," he whispers, his voice rough and filled with that dark intensity you can never quite resist. His hand slides higher, sending sparks up your spine. "Let me show you how much I don’t care about anything but you."

Luke's fingers drift up, warm and deliberate, as if mapping out every inch of your skin beneath his touch. Your breath hitches, caught somewhere between the tension that lingers from the argument and the undeniable heat of his closeness. It's a mix of frustration and need, your thoughts spiraling as the sensation of his hand grounds you and unravels you all at once.

But there’s still that nagging voice in the back of your head, reminding you why you’re here in the first place, why your heart had been racing with something other than desire just moments ago. “This isn’t fair,” you whisper, half to yourself, half to Luke, as you shift in the seat, his hand momentarily slipping from your thigh.

He pauses, his forehead still resting lightly against yours, and you can feel the heat of his breath fan across your cheek. “What isn’t fair?” His voice is low, but there’s an edge to it, the kind that tells you he knows exactly what you mean but wants to hear you say it anyway.

You sigh, the sound barely audible in the dark, cramped space of the car. “I’m still upset with you.”

Luke lets out a soft chuckle, but there’s no real humor in it. “You’ve made that pretty clear,” he mutters, his lips brushing the side of your neck now, almost absentmindedly, as if he’s more focused on you than on the argument itself.

Your heart skips a beat, torn between wanting to push him away and pull him closer. “No, I mean it. You can’t just—” The words falter on your tongue as his hand moves again, more insistent now, tugging you toward him.

You can feel the tension in his muscles, the subtle shift in the way he holds you, as if he’s trying to balance the frustration with the desire that simmers beneath it all. “I know you’re upset,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips brushing a soft kiss just below your jawline. “But I’m not letting you spiral over this anymore.”

A shiver runs down your spine at the firmness in his voice, but the frustration bubbles up again, tangled with everything else you’re feeling. “You don’t get to decide that for me,” you snap, though the bite in your tone is softened by the way your body instinctively leans into him.

Luke pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours in the dim light. “I’m not trying to control how you feel,” he says, his voice steady, though you can see the tension still lingering in the set of his jaw. “But I am trying to remind you that what they think doesn’t matter as much as you think it does.”

You stare at him, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, torn between the desire to argue and the warmth of his hand now resting on your waist, the weight of his presence calming you even as it sets your heart racing.

“Maybe not to you,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper as you meet his gaze. “But it matters to me, Luke. And that’s not something you can just... fix.”

For a moment, the space between you is filled with nothing but the sound of your breathing, the tension palpable. Then, slowly, Luke shifts, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. “I know,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, the sharp edges of frustration dulled. “I know it matters to you. But can you trust me enough to let me show you that it doesn’t change anything between us?”

You hesitate, the weight of his words settling over you like a warm blanket, and for the first time since the argument started, the tightness in your chest loosens just a little. “I want to,” you admit, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the car. “But it’s hard.”

Luke leans in, his lips barely grazing yours, and the softness in his touch makes your heart stutter. “Then let me make it easier,” he whispers, and the kiss that follows is slow, gentle, as if he’s trying to reassure you through the warmth of his mouth against yours.

Your fingers find their way to his hair, tangling in the strands as the kiss deepens, the heat between you simmering quietly, like embers waiting to be fanned into a flame. Every movement is deliberate, slow, as if the argument has faded into the background, leaving only the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of each other.

Luke’s hands are careful, guiding you down against the leather seats as he follows, his weight settling over you in a way that’s both grounding and exhilarating. There’s no rush, no frantic movement—just the quiet urgency of two people who know exactly what they want but are taking their time getting there.

The quiet inside the car feels louder now, broken only by the soft rustle of clothes and the barely audible hitch in your breathing as Luke’s hand glides up your side. His touch lingers just below your ribs, fingers tracing a slow, teasing path that leaves a trail of warmth in its wake. Your skin hums under his fingertips, every inch of you tuned to the way he moves—so careful, so focused, as though he's trying to soothe the lingering frustrations with each touch.

You shift beneath him, the leather seat creaking ever so slightly, and your breath catches when his knee nudges between your legs. He hesitates for just a second, his gaze meeting yours in the dim light, searching your face as if asking for permission. The look in his eyes sends a shiver through you—not just lust but something deeper, a quiet reassurance that everything is okay now, even if things had been tense before.

Your fingers move up to his neck, pulling him closer as you press your lips against his, the kiss soft at first, but it doesn’t stay that way. Luke responds immediately, his lips parting slightly as his hand finds its way under your shirt, the warmth of his palm against your bare skin sending a surge of heat through you. The kiss deepens, and you can feel the frustration melting away, replaced by a slow, simmering need.

His hand trails down your stomach, stopping just above your waistband. The anticipation alone has your heart pounding, and you bite your lip to stifle a soft whimper. Luke pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours as his thumb traces lazy circles on your hip. "You okay?" he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, not trusting your voice, and he smiles—soft, almost teasing—before kissing you again, this time slower, more deliberate. His fingers tug gently at the hem of your pants, and you can’t help the way your hips lift instinctively, silently asking for more. The need between you is palpable now, the air thick with it, but there’s no rush. Every touch, every kiss, feels like it's drawn out, like you're both savoring the moment.

Luke’s hand slides lower, slipping beneath the fabric, and you bite back a gasp as his fingers find you, moving with the same careful intensity that he always has. Your back arches slightly, and you have to bite your lip to keep quiet, every nerve in your body tuned to the sensation of his touch. You feel the tension building again, but this time it’s the kind that makes your breath catch for an entirely different reason.

Luke's fingers press deeper, deliberate and slow, like he’s savoring every second of your reaction. The touch sends a ripple of heat through you, unraveling all the tension that had been coiling tight from the argument. Your skin feels electric, each stroke of his fingers igniting something raw and instinctive inside you. The leather beneath you squeaks softly as your back arches, the weight of him grounding you even as your body craves more. Every nerve feels alive, responding to him in a way that makes it hard to remember why you were upset in the first place.

Your breath stutters as his lips graze your ear, his breath warm and uneven against your skin. A quiet moan escapes before you can stop it, the sound slipping out despite your effort to keep quiet. Luke smirks against your neck, the curve of his lips brushing your pulse in a way that makes you shiver, the heat between you intensifying. You can feel his restraint, the way his hands move with purpose but not haste, as if he’s determined to make this last, to take his time with every single touch.

His fingers move more deliberately now, sliding deeper, and your body reacts instantly, a sharp gasp caught in your throat. You bite down on your lip, trying to stifle the sound, but the pleasure building between your thighs is impossible to ignore. Luke’s free hand grips your hip, holding you steady as your hips start to move on their own, seeking more of that delicious pressure.

The air in the car feels suffocating in the best way, filled with the sounds of your shared breathing and the faint rustle of clothes. You catch the briefest glance of his face in the dim light, his jaw clenched, eyes dark and intent on you, as though he’s barely holding himself back. It sends a wave of heat crashing over you, and you can’t help the way your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer, wanting him—no, needing him—deeper. His thumb brushes against a spot that makes your vision blur, and a sharp, involuntary whimper escapes, too loud for the quiet space.

“Shh,” Luke breathes out, his voice a low rasp that barely conceals the strain in it. “We gotta be quiet, baby.”

But there’s nothing quiet about the way he touches you, the way his body presses against yours, every slow, deliberate movement setting you ablaze. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, and you press your forehead against his shoulder, your fingers digging into his back as you try to focus on something—anything—other than the wave of pleasure threatening to spill over.

You can feel the heat of his breath against your neck as his lips brush your skin, soft kisses that trail down your collarbone. It’s slow, deliberate, like he’s savoring every inch of you. But there’s something teasing in it too, something that makes your breath hitch as his hand continues its agonizingly slow rhythm between your legs. The frustration builds alongside the pleasure, the need to cry out so overwhelming that you have to bury your face in his shoulder to muffle the sounds escaping from your throat.

The pressure builds, winding tighter and tighter, and you’re barely holding it together when Luke’s lips find your ear again. “You’re doing so good,” he whispers, the words barely audible but sending a fresh wave of heat down your spine. His voice is ragged, strained, like he’s barely managing to keep himself in check. “So damn good for me, baby.”

The praise hits you like a punch to the gut, your entire body tensing beneath him. Your thighs squeeze around him involuntarily, your hips lifting again in response to the slow, torturous rhythm he’s set. You can’t help the way your body reacts, chasing that high even as you try desperately to stay quiet.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling him closer as your lips find his, muffling the moan that finally breaks free when his thumb presses just right. The kiss is messy, frantic, but it does little to hide the soft, breathless gasps escaping from both of you now. His hand moves faster, more insistent, and you can feel the tension in his body mirroring your own as the space between you narrows further.

Luke’s breath hitches as you tug him even closer, your lips parting to let out another soft, desperate moan that’s swallowed by his mouth. His fingers curl inside you, and you’re done for, every nerve sparking with heat. You break away from the kiss, your forehead pressed to his as you gasp for air, trying to keep your voice down but failing as the pleasure builds.

“Luke…” you gasp, his name barely a whisper, more breath than sound, but it’s enough to make him groan, low and rough, as he pushes himself harder against you, his lips brushing yours in another heated, sloppy kiss.

Your body trembles with the effort to keep quiet, and he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. His touch becomes more insistent, more confident, and you can feel him smirk against your lips as he leans in, his breath warm and ragged against your skin.

“You gonna come for me?” he whispers, his voice low, rough with need. His thumb circles just right, and you’re nodding before you can even think, your body already teetering on the edge. “Come on, baby,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your neck. “I wanna feel it.”

And you do—hard, your body shuddering as you clamp your mouth shut, burying your face in his shoulder to muffle the sounds that threaten to spill out. Your fingers dig into his back as the pleasure washes over you, hot and overwhelming, your entire body trembling in his arms as he holds you steady, his fingers never stopping.

You ride out the waves, your breath coming in shallow gasps as your legs tighten around him, your body still humming with the aftershocks. Luke slows his movements, his hand gently pulling away as he leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.

For a moment, everything is still, the car quiet except for the sound of your uneven breathing. Then Luke shifts, his forehead resting against yours as he looks down at you, his expression soft but still dark with desire.

“I love you, okay?” he whispers, his voice rough, but there’s a softness to it that makes your heart flutter. “We’ll get through this.”

You nod, still catching your breath, and he smiles, his lips brushing yours in a soft, tender kiss that feels like a promise—like he’s not done with you yet.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey fanfiction #luke hughes #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #new jersey devils imagine #lh43 #lh43 x reader #lh43 x you #Spotify

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goldenstring6123 · 2 months

Note

helloooo! i’d like to request a short fic with this glorious prompt i thought about last night 🤭

let’s say reader gets a tattoo of xavier’s sword (like the design behind his latest promise outfit) all the way down their back ;) i would die to see how he would react to this nyehehehe

it can be either fluff, suggestive, smut, up to you with whatever you’re comfy with <3 tysm hehe

Xavier: Ink & sword

Warning: Very suggestive! 16+ only, showering together, nudity, kissing, sensual touching, fem!reader, reader is not the mc but works as a hunter

Author's note: :>

MASTER LIST | Buy me a thread?

"I'm sorry—I knocked you back too hard," Xavier's hand reached down towards yours, and you, on the other hand, were buried underneath some plastic crates at the corner of the training room. He waited for you to take his hand. "Are you alright?"

You took his hand and used him to hoist yourself back to your feet, a tinge of pain and ache flowering from different parts of your back. You dropped the sword that you were holding, and it immediately dissipated into thin air. You looked at Xavier and patted his chest, trying to ease out that slight frown on his face.

"I'm alright. We deal with worse stuff on the battlefield."

Right above the entrance, a big digital clock projected the time in neon blue colors: 23:03. You and Xavier had been training for over three hours, and now the training grounds had been rid of people except for the two of you. Well, it couldn't be helped; Xavier's training regimen requires more time to perform, considering the complexity of his fighting style and condition.

Still, the fact that you can keep up is very noteworthy even in the eyes of others, though the only thing you were doing was defending and keeping your stance. The only worrying thing is that sometimes, Xavier forgets that you're just a normal hunter and tends to exert a bit more force when sparring.

You let out a small groan while you moved towards the shower room, and Xavier was walking right beside you, ready to reach out in case you toppled over. The frown was still on his face as if he regretted showing you that magnificent finishing blow. "Do you need help?"

You glanced at the shower room and hooked your index finger under his chin, turning his head slightly, the cheeky little teasing mood suddenly erupting from within you. "Are you offering to help me bathe? How daring of you."

"Uh...I didn't—" Xavier's doe eyes went wider than the moon, his nose and ears turning pink upon realizing your words.

You just loved finding the opportunity to fluster this little man.

Unbeknownst to Xavier, you knew how he has a little ongoing crush on you—credits to Tara for having that habit of snitching when drunk. And for a strong fighter, it feeds your ego to have him wrapped around your fingers.

"Can you just hand me the menthol patches in the kit?" you pointed at a small box nearby, one attached to the metal post. It was a first aid kit reserved for them. Xavier strode to the said post while you entered the washroom.

You opened your locker with your thumbprint and undid the brown leather support. Swiftly, you unbuttoned your blouse, picked at how it clung to your body, damp and riddled with dust and sweat. Finally, the stuffy bathroom air brushed against your sweat-ridden back.

"I got the patches..." Xavier entered the bathroom, the white menthol patches in his grasp. When he lifted his head to look at you, his eyes trailed from the curve of your form—eyes landing on the intricate tapestry of dark blue and white ink tattoo carved onto your back.

The shame of walking in on you naked disappeared in an instant.

You stared as Xavier slowly stepped beyond the room's threshold. You kept your blouse pressed against your chest, and even if you were nearly topless, Xavier's eyes never broke contact from your back. Why would he? The image of his very own sword was on your back.

"Is this why you wanted to take a picture of my sword?" His cold fingers slid down the dip of your spine, his eyes absorbing every bit of nitty-gritty detail about the tattoo. As much as he admires his real pristine sword, the image of it on your back is simply...breathtaking.

"Maybe? Do you like it?" You kept still, facing the locker. At that moment, every touch he made on your body was amplified beyond normal. The coolness of his fingers felt good against your warm back.

"It's beautiful," he uttered. The thin saber was positioned perfectly downwards to your spine, ending just above where your pants began, curving whenever you moved. The handle was positioned just between your shoulder blades. Feathers littered the rest of the space, some in blue and some in white. The intricate carvings on the side of his sword were perfectly captured. "Why did you choose my sword?"

"Well," your hand chucked the blouse in the locker. You glanced over your shoulder, the silver-haired man anticipating your answer. "It's because it was beautiful; I can't get my mind off of it." It just so happens that the man wielding it is beautiful as well. A beauty beyond the stars.

You turned back to face the locker, folding your blouse, thinking that Xavier had had enough of seeing the tattoo. Your lips opened, prepared to ask him to leave as you were nearly topless, if not for that low-back bra you're wearing, but before you could blurt a single word, Xavier pressed his lips on your shoulders.

It was as if his kiss had flicked a switch within you. You stiffened, leaning over while your hands hung at the edge of the locker. "Xavier? Did you just—"

The man placed another kiss lower. You could feel his tongue graze the surface of your skin. "Mhm, your skin is salty."

His words sobered you up; it wasn't exactly an insult, but that made you think. You stood up straight and faced him, your eyes coated with a sheen of lust and desperation. "I'm full of sweat. Do you really intend on having..." You held yourself back from spouting such vulgar words. "Never mind. Wait for me. I'm going to take a shower."

You took the towel and ran to the shower areas. It was dead silent. You pondered. Was Xavier really doing what you think he was going to do? Did the sword on your back push him to the edge?

All the thoughts crept at the back of your neck, but the softness of Xavier's lips remained. The hot water drizzled all over your body, releasing you from the stickiness of the fluids. You combed back your hair and looked up at the shower head, relishing the comfort of the rain-like sensation—for a few seconds at least.

The shower curtain shifted, and Xavier took a step in. His bare chest pressed against your back, and you spun quickly at the contact. Your eyes widened at the sight of his bare body—it's not the first time you saw it, but still—"Why are you here?"

"Let's take a shower together. Turn around, I'll wash your back."

"Do all training partners do this? Bathe together? Is this new?" You panicked, instinctively covering your areas while backing up against the cold porcelain wall. You stared up at him, the soft eyes no longer there. He looked intimidating now that he was towering over you.

"Do training partners sleep with each other when they get stuck in the mountains?" he uttered.

At that moment, the hazy memory of that stormy night flashed inside your head—the warmth of his touch, the flickering of the makeshift fireplace, his skin against yours, and his mouth exploring your body. Your face began to grow red at that memory.

Xavier's hands crawled to your hips, gently nudging you to turn. You didn't want to go against him, and at the same time, you were expecting something to happen because you would admit that Xavier was good. He felt good. His taste, his skill, and his size—what you didn't expect was that it wasn't going to be a one-time thing.

His hands were gliding on your back, and his burning stare trailed down to your ass. You bit your lip at the embarrassment. His hands, which were on your waist, found themselves holding on to your love handles, and gently, Xavier pulled your hips backward, coming into contact with his semi-hard-on.

"Shit," you uttered under your breath. Even if it wasn't fully hard, you could still clearly feel it. A million thoughts raced through your head, but there was one emotion that was prevalent: Erotic desire.

Xavier's lips came into contact with your back again, but this time, you couldn't help but flinch at every contact because his tongue and teeth grazed and gritted, intentionally leaving marks at Xavier's whims. Just by that, you were gasping for air, anticipating where he would bite next.

His fingernails scraped at your skin, tracing every curve and line of the tattoo; his touch was electrifying, but you craved more. How can he be so gentle but leave you feeling unexplainable things?

He peppered your back with light kisses from the dip of your back slowly, slowly crawling back up to your exposed nape. "Don't leave marks on my neck," you uttered between breaths. A loud pop of Xavier's kiss bounced off the shower room.

"Turn around, please. I want to see you," Xavier whispered. You looked over your shoulder, and you could see him stepping back a little bit, eager to see your body.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and turned to him, still covering your body. Admittedly, he was a little perplexed at seeing you acting all shy when it was you who was provoking him earlier, but poking fun at you wasn't right for the moment.

He brushed a stray hair that stuck onto your cheek and smiled, looking into your eyes fondly. "There's no need to hide," he said, taking a step closer. "You're beautiful."

His big hands caressed your elbows and slid up to your biceps, nudging you to loosen up. Your hands dropped from your body, but instead of letting them fall completely, you wrapped your hands around his neck.

You pressed your lips together, but all of a sudden, footsteps erupted.

"Is anyone in here?" the lady guard called. "Security!"

You covered Xavier's mouth and stared into his eyes, saying: 'Don't make a sound.'

"Oh, yes! I just finished training!" you yelled back.

"Alright, but please leave after 5 minutes. We're about to turn down the power for the entire floor."

"Sure! I'll be out in a minute," you replied. You and Xavier waited for a solid minute before moving. You let go of the breath you were holding, took the bar of soap from the holder, and gave it to Xavier. "Let's continue that at your apartment when we get home."

Author footnotes: Cockblocked by me, the author. Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |

MASTER LIST | Buy me a thread?

#lnds #lnds xavier #love and deepspace xavier #xavier love and deepspace #lads xavier #xavier x reader #love and deepspace #sylus #loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace mc #l&ds #l&ds xavier #shen xinghui #xavier lads #xavier x mc #reader x xavier #love and deep space smut #l&ds smut

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rayraelleaizawa · 7 months

Text

They say something hurtfull in an argument

TW: sad, slight angst, fighting

Characters: Shanks, Beckmann, Mihawk

Side note: a bit ooc cause they'd never say something like that but we live for angst

Part 2: Making up after an argument

Shanks

"Why do you always have to be drunk?" i asked him as he woke up with yet another hangover. Being together with Shanks is amazing, he loves you, he gives you everything you could wish for and more, but there is one thing you hate about his beheaviour: the constant drinking.

"Because we are pirates, we have to party" Shanks answered with a grin before he groans due to his headache.

"This drinking will kill you one time, do you know that? It's also a huge downturn in bed when i want to kiss you and all i can smell is alcohol on your breath." You kept on complaining, tired of this. "Alcohol damages your body so much, do you want to die so much earlier or what?" you snapped at him.

"Maybe I need something to make me feel better about your constant bickering." Shanks said with a growl, the grin disappearing.

You halted in your tracks. A look of hurt crossed your face as you shut your mouth close. Sadness welled up inside you at the thought, that you were also a reason why he kept on having this extremly unhealthy habit.

"I'm sorry then" you said quietly and walked out of your shared quarters, now probably only his quarters, cause you werent sure if you want to go back there and sleep next to him.

You were just worried about him, why didnt you notice that you were annoying him with that? You never said anything, helped him out of all his problems that he caused by himself with his childish demeanour, you only scolded him when he hurt himself. He never hurts others, he only lets himself get hurt. And that frustrated you beyond believe.

Didnt he know how much you cared for him? Did he even care? Are you even enough to make him start to look out for himself?

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you hid yourself in an empty room on the ship. You tried so much to accept his drinking habbits, you didnt even ask him to stop, just to not be drunk 6 and a half days of the week, and that every week.

You burried your face in your knees and cried. Where you that insufferable that he hurts his own body just to be able to endure your company? If you left, then he wouldnt do this to himself anymore, right?

Benn Beckman

"Really? Another one?"

You say annoyed as you watch your boyfriend light up another cigarette.

"Yes. Another one."

He plainly answers. You guys had this discussion before. You wanted him to smoke less, he said he'd try to but the amount doesnt get any less.

"Benn this really damages your lungs. Cant you please try to smoke less?"

You asked again, and he sighed annoyed.

"They help me relax."

You started to get annoyed by his short answers.

"You could relax with other stuff. You could take a bath, or i could massage you, or we could just spend time together."

You suggested as he sighed out audibly annoyed.

"And you think after all the work and stress I have the whole day I want to spend it around a person which constantly nags on me and where i cant let my mind settle even a bit?"

He snapped, looking at you angrily. You looked at him with an unmoving face before you adverted your eyes. You didnt want to show him that his words hurt.

"I'm sorry, I didnt know you couldnt let your guard down around me."

You said defeated, turning around and slowly walking away. You could hear him say your name quietly but you didnt want to turn around. You just walked under deck and into your cabin. You sat down on your desk and started working, tears running down your face as you felt a coldness within you.

Does he not trust me enough? I didnt know that I am a stress factor for him.

Dark thoughts pleagued your mind as you tried to just work through your feelings. You tried to not be even more of a burden. Tears ran down your face, some of them hitting the desk and some hitting the papers with the lists and research about the treasures your crew had gotten lately.

Benn works so hard, and I never made him feel better. I just added to his stress. He'd be better off alone, right?

Dracule Mihawk

"Could you please tell me when you plan on leaving?"

You said to Mihawk as he came back after two months without telling you that he'll be gone.

"Why? I have my own free will if i remember correctly."

"Because I worry about you when you just suddenly disappear! It isnt that hard to just leave a note or something when you cant tell me in the face that you have to leave."

You were angry at him. What did he think? He was your boyfriend so why couldnt he just tell you when he left for weeks?

He puts down his hat and went to get some vine but you stopped him. Him not even looking at you makes you feel like you're unimportant to him, that this whole matter is of no interest to him.

"Do you really care so little about my feelings? Or am I just a nuissance to you right now that you cant even stop walking when I talk with you."

He then looked at you, annoyance but also a sign of being unbothered on his face.

"You're acting like a child. If I leave again and dont come back you'll at least know why now."

He said that so matter of factly that you were stunned about his coldness. He moved around you to the kitchen to grab some vine, and you just stood there.

Did he really just say that I am the reason why he doesnt want to come home anymore?

You shook your head slightly, recalling his words again and trying not to be hurt by them. As you hear his steps starting to come back, you hurried out of the room and into your shared bedroom. Tears streamed down your face as you tried to make it make sense.

When did he start hating to come back to you? What exactly was so annoying about you? Why didnt he just tell you that he didnt like your behaviour anymore? Does he even like you anymore?

All those thoughts were running through your head as you packed the little clothes and stuff you owned. You didnt touch a thing that he bought for you. If he wanted to leave and not come back, then you will make it easier for him and leave on your own. That's what he wants, isnt it?

After you finished packing you quietly stepped out of his castle and made your way into the woods. Tears were still streaming down your face, but you ignored them. This was for the best, right?

#one piece #shanks #akagami no shanks #red hair shanks #dracule mihawk #mihawk #benn beckman #beckman #benn beckman x reader #shanks x reader #mihawk x reader #angst #light angst #drabble

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dark-fics-4-you · 1 year

Note

okay first off, i love you and your works so so much, seriously i wait for you to post new stuff😭 second off id loveee to see some dark rafe as a boyfriend headcanons; i know you'd do an incredible job<3

thank you so much for the kind words!! <33 love youuu 🥰

dark!bf!Rafe Cameron Headcanons

warnings: smut, coercion, dubcon, manipulation, location tracking, jealousy, violence, drinking and drug use, overstimulation

dark!bf!Rafe would spoil the everloving hell out of you at the start of your relationship. When you were with him, he refused to let you pay for anything "i just want to treat you like the princess you are, baby." This included food, clothes, lingerie, jewelry, and even a brand new iphone when you accidentally shattered the screen of your old one.

little did you know, your boyfriend had set up your phone before he gifted it to you, making sure that your location would be visible to him at all times, and that he would be able to see anything that you texted to anyone.

Rafe always wanted you to spend all of your free time with him. he would constantly show up at your house to pick you up for surprise dates, taking you out shopping or to an expensive restaurant of your choosing.

Anytime you questioned how he always knew that you were free when he came by, he always had an answer, accompanied by a sheepish grin, “i guess i just know you that well, y/n/n.”

Rafe hated the fact that you had guy friends, mood instantly souring anytime you mentioned wanting to hang out with them. It was hard enough for him to tolerate you hanging out with your girl friends, but Rafe felt especially protective of you around your male friends.

After seeing you talking with one of them at a party, much too enthusiastically for Rafe's taste, your boyfriend waited till he could talk to your friend alone before he threatened to break his nose if he ever saw him talking to you again.

The next day, when you sat on the couch gazing at the hurtful text from your friend that said he wanted nothing to do with you anymore, your boyfriend rubbed circles in your back as you cried into his chest, hiding the triumphant grin that tugged at the corner of his lips. "it'll be okay baby, I'm here to support you, and I'm not going anywhere."

You and Rafe didn’t get into arguments a lot, but when you did they were ugly screaming matches, baseless allegations of cheating berated at you as you sobbed, trying to calm your boyfriend down.

The arguments always ended the same way though. With you laying face down, ass in the air, head pushed into the pillow as your boyfriend took out his frustrations on you, not stopping until you had came around him five times

Afterwards, he held you in bed, kissing you tenderly and whispering into your skin, “i’m sorry y/n, you know how jealous i get, it’s only because i love you so much” and like the trusting, naive girl you were, you believed him wholeheartedly

Rafe was always super handsy in public, even if you voiced discomfort, never one to shy away from public sex as a way to tell every guy in the Outer Banks that you were his girl

Fingers wandering under your short skirts at house parties, a smack on your ass when you bent over at the golf course in front of his friends, fucking in his truck with the windows open before picking up weed and blow from Barry

You didn’t particularly like Rafe’s coke use, and had tried to bring it up to him many times, but he always knew what to say to turn the sympathy back towards him, “you know i’ve been having a hard time with my dad, princess. i feel like you and coke are the only thing that can calm me down. i just need it a little longer and then i’ll quit, i promise.”

Every party the two of you went to was an opportunity for him to show you off, and he had a habit of never letting you leave his side, arm firm around your waist, always stealing kisses and nipping at your neck to remind everyone who you belonged to, glaring at any guy who looked at you funny.

Rafe would pour you drink after drink, offering you hits off his blunts and pressuring you to do lines of blow in between. He loved how you always got more touchy with him when you were drunk. Not only that, but you allowed him to get more handsy in public than if you had been sober, “relax, it’s a crowded party, y/n/n, everyone’s hooking up.”

Rafe always loved to push your boundaries, testing the waters of what he could get away with

He would wrap an arm around you, supporting you as you drunkenly stumbled into the nearest unoccupied bedroom, before gently helping peel off your clothes as he kissed you, silencing your worries about leaving your friends behind, “i can’t think about anything else but you right now y/n. you don’t get what you do to me.”

Desire clouded your mind with his every caress, and before you could think it over, your ‘no’ had turned into ‘just the tip’ at his suggestion

And yet, every time, you found yourself in the same position, thighs shaking as you came around his cock, moans muffled by the ringed hand at your throat, “mm there’s my girl. felt like you needed that.”

His favorite punishment for you whenever you pissed him off by getting too close with his friends or acting like a brat was overstimulation.

Rafe caught you off guard every time, delving between your thighs with a playful smirk. He kissed and nipped at the tender flesh of your inner thighs before he would eat you out, slowly pushing his fingers into your dripping pussy.

After the first orgasm, you were already a panting mess. But you were surprised when he didn’t stop, quickly pushing you over the edge again, large hands firmly clamped around your quaking legs.

By the third, you realized what he was doing, already so overstimulated that you were begging him to stop, tears streaming down your face as he lapped at your sensitive clit. The pleasure building inside you at every thrust of his fingers had you coming again and again

No amount of tears or apologies could ever stop him, “you wanted to act like a slut, so don’t be surprised when i treat you like one, sweetheart.”

Rafe was only satisfied after you sagged against the bed after your seventh orgasm, finally allowing you to catch your breath as he peppered gentle kisses all over your body and face, whispering praises and telling you how much he adored you. “my perfect y/n. i never want to let you go.”

#rafe cameron #outer banks #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron headcanons #dark!rafe cameron headcanons #dark!bf!rafe #obx

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jcollinswrites · 5 days

Note

How the fudge are you writting so fast??? I sit down to write and end up with nothing or reworking plot instead of writing 😭Have any tips you want to share? Perhaps the ingredients to the dark ritual you perform to get the motivation and remain focused 👀👀👀

So, first of all, you'll need half a newborn, shaken, not stirred…

lol jk (don't shake babies)

Believe it or not I'm the same as you, so here are some stuff that helped me tremendously, especially with my squirrel ADHD brain:

NUMBER ONE that I needed 20 years to learn, is that… forget editing, man. You can't edit if there is nothing to edit, so first you have to sit ya ass down and just fuckin' do it. It doesn't matter if it's shit at first. It's called work in progress for a reason. Who cares if it's shit? You can edit it LATER when the whole thing is already done. What you're reading in my game is literally my first draft. Lots of scenes might change later. In fact, I'm already changing scenes in the background, I'm just not always telling you. It doesn't matter. If anyone gives you shit for it, tell them to kindly fuck right off.

Have a plan for the book (written down. Not just in your head). Don't even start writing until you have a plan for the entire book. It doesn't have to be detailed. Mine is just bulletpoints, but you should know which chapter will contain what, including plot points, character development, relationship progress etc, otherwise you'll get lost, especially in a big IF. And then as you get closer to the next chapter, you can work out more details in the plan to help the actual writing.

If you don't feel like writing a scene, then don't write it. Leave a placeholder word there (I use 'mandarin' because that word likely won't come up anywhere else in the text), and instantly move on to another scene that you have inspiration for. Later, you can just search for 'mandarin' and add the scene when you feel like it. If you accidentally come across any MANDARINs in my game, that's the reason lol.

If you are writing an IF, it helps to start simple. Write the story until a choice comes up, then write the title of the choices, and continue ONLY with the route you feel the most inspired for atm (use mandarin for the rest). Don't let your momentum die by getting bogged down in choices. That's why I have so many greyed out choices when I start a new origin or chapter. I just write write write until the end of the chapter, THEN I go back to whatever choice is the simplest to add, and put the variations in the already-existing text if needed. Repeat until all the choices are written and coded in. This way, the text might feel more organic too, because you already have a pre-written skeleton that you can just add variations in.

Keep notes. It helps to have them on paper, next to you, so f.ex. when you make 9 different deities to choose from, you don't have to go back to the beginning of the chapter every single time to look up which deities those were and what they mean, you can simply turn your head to the side lol.

Take regular breaks. Exercise, stretch. Keep a daily schedule. Eat and drink enough. Try to keep a good health. Your brain won't work if it's starved.

Know yourself and your habits, and be honest with yourself. I know of myself that once I start working on the big plot points, I won't have any motivation to come back to the beginning again. That's why I'm writing all the origin stories first, because I know that if I start going into chapter 2, I definitely won't feel like coming back to start yet another route from the very beginning. So if you don't feel like doing something, then just… don't do it. Or do it simpler. Do it smarter. Trick that asshole brain into cooperating.

Last but not least, guys, 90% of my motivation COMES FROM YOU! Your engagement, your messages, your feedback, every little interaction is what keeps me going! So write me! I will answer! (if you aren't a dick). Literally, about anything. Even if it's just "hey I really liked this small detail here", that will already make my day, seriously. I LOVE talking about my work, and I'm pretty sure every author is like that, so keep engaging with writers, because that's 90% of the reason when a novel gets finished! I'm writing for YOU! Your enjoyment, your fun, because I love telling stories, but those stories don't mean anything if no one is reading them.

#interactive fiction #weeping gods #writing advice #how to not be a sack of potato aka me #i honestly surprise myself every single time when i write more than 3k words a week #i have to keep my brain constantly entertained otherwise no productivity will happen

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jamiehe4rtsmen · 25 days

Text

-> main course : chapstick !

🍂˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕️

CHAPSTICK !

tldr ; schlatt x gn!reader + college au (you're a photography major) -> a / n : loosely based off something that happened w/ a boy at school 💌 : mixtape to this fic ; head over heels by tears for fears !

your eccentric business teacher had dragged the whole lecture hall out of class insisting that -

,, you damn kids just don't go outside enough, with all your interweb stuff and snapgram ! ''

due to his outburst and determination to get the whole college lecture hall of around a hundred people to go on a walk to explore the local businesses surrounding your college, you and all your other classmates were now walking around the neighborhood, being pointed out everything that looked similar to a shop by your professor.

you didn't really know anyone in your class. the business teacher talked a lot, and you didn't even like business since you were a photography & film major. it's not like you were gonna stand up in front of the whole class and proudly proclaim actually teacher, i don't wanna go for a walk! kiss my ass and say goodbye to my business credit, i'm outta here to go take photos of the leaves!

grinning a little at the scene, you shake your head and shove your hands in the pockets of your baggy tan jeans and dark brown sweater, a gold heart pendant necklace lazily thrown on top. you were trying to achieve that casual, chic-fall look, yet you thought you looked more sloppy than mysterious dark academia student. whatever, you huff.

as you walk, you apply a coat of your pumpkin spice burts bees chapstick to really get the whole fall vibe going. as you start to shove it back into your jeans, you feel a tap on your shoulder. you turn to see a guy that towers over you, a gruff beard and messy hair, wearing a yankees sweater.

,, hey, uhh, can i borrow your chapstick ? my lips are gettin' all chapped, and we can't have that while we're on our lovely business walk, can we ? ''

yankees dude shoots you a grin, his new york accent thick as he drawled.

,, sure. ''

you shrug and offer out the small tube of pumpkin spice chapstick. he applies it directly onto his lips, then you both freeze. did this dude directly apply it to his lips? he just touched my lips. okay, cool. don't panic.

,, oh, shit. i'm fuckin' dumb. i, uh.. forgot how chapstick worked. you're not.. you don't got any diseases or somethin', right? ''

he chuckles awkwardly at the last part, leaning down more to my height to whisper as he gulps and shifts his gaze away from you, placing the chapstick in my hand and shoving it towards your palm.

you look around to see if i'm being punk'd or something, one of those old gameshows where they prank people. but nope, no one's in sight, except your business teacher rambling on, probably about his ex-wife or something. hesitantly, you respond,

,, ...no, i'm good. ''

you clear your throat.

,, your, uh.. your lips un-chapped now? ''

he shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets as he starts to walk in unison with you.

,, yeah. that's the good stuff. normally i just buy the cheap ones from the drugstore, ya know? ''

you politely offer a smile , nodding along with him as your two pairs of feet tap against the concrete. you glance down at your shoes, a nervous habit, to look at the parallel: his scuffed up white (but now so dirty they're a light brown-ish at this point) old nikes and your red converse, a soft thump sound as the two of you walk.

,, what, are you too good to go and order one from amazon? ''

i joke. i glance over at him to see him meet my gaze with his brown eyes crinkling up at the sides as he grinned and boasted playfully,

,, yeah. the chapstick should be bowin' at my feet to have the opportunity to have it's product on my lips. ''

rolling your eyes, you let out an amused chuckle.

,, you've got kind of an ego, y'know that? ''

you joke.

,, jeez, you're a budding genius. you a psych major? ''

he jokes playfully, studying your clothes and tote intently to try and size up what you study, as if you'll have a giant shirt that says i <3 psychology !!

,, nah, photography and film. you? ''

to your surprise, his eyes widen, but he goes back to normal so fast you're sure it's a trick of the autumn air or something.

,, comp sci. ''

you snort.

,, oh, so you're a dork? ''

he rolls his eyes and shrugs, snapping his gaze away from ahead to look back at you.

,, that's kinda a generalization, don'tcha - '' you shoot him a look that reads, 'dont lie'. '' fine, i am. ''

he pauses for a second.

,, i like to do photography and film stuff too. just occasionally though. in my free time. after dorkin' out, ya know. ''

he chuckles almost a bit forced at the last part, like he's purposefully leaving out his skill or love for it, but you don't care enough to pry. it's not you're a psych major or anything either.

,, really ? what kinda stuff you film ? ''

that piques your interest, to say the least. and what does even more is his reply:

,, everythin'. i mean, it's just the way film is so much better on a real vlogging camera than a phone, ya know? it has that.. that old-school feeling. hell, i'm gonna be recording my kids' first steps on a digital camera, that's for sure. ''

your face lights up as you chuckle along to his rambling, listening intently.

,, yeah.. i get it, actually. wouldn't be surprised if you were a photography major in disguise. ''

he grins, playing along with your banter as he quips,

,, disguised as what ? ''

the obvious reply to you is:

,, a huge dork. ''

the two of you burst into laughter as the yankees guy shoves you playfully, grinning from ear to ear.

,, oh, fuck off. leave me and my fellow comp sci guys be, yeah? what's your name, photography geek? gotta know who me and my boys are gonna beat up later. ''

you snicker.

,, beat me up with what, their blue shells? ''

you joke and tell him your name without skipping a beat. his eyes widen as a genuine smile spreads across his face.

,, woah, wait, you play mario kart? and, uh, nice to meet ya. i'm jay. but back to mario kart - what? you? a photography major? ''

the two of you seem to light up at the same time.

,, oh yeah! i used to play it with my best friend all the time growing up. why, you play too? ''

jay grins and nods vehemently.

,, hell yeah i play. probably better than you. after all, that's all us comp sci majors do practice mario kart and dork out, according to'ya. ''

you smirk, going along with your banter, trying to not absolutely nerd out about how much you adore mario kart.

,, sounds about right. ''

he surprises you (and himself, it seems), when after a beat of silence he suggests,

,, guess we'll have to play sometime. ''

you pause, then shrug coyly, even though you're doing thrilled gymnastics in your mind. you tease,

,, guess we will. as long as you get yourself your own tube of chapstick. ''

jay's whole demeanor seems to lighten up from his gruff, get-the-fuck-away persona to a more relaxed, chilled one. he flashes you a grin, looking down at you with a sparkle in his eye.

,, deal. ''

-> tysm for reading ! beautiful banners by @anitalenia . go check out their banners they're awesome sauce !!

#jschlatt fanfic #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x y/n #jschlatt x you #jschlatt fluff #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x reader #schlatt x you #fall aesthetic #fanfic #wholesome #fluff fic #fluffy fanfic

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nohoperadio · 26 days

Text

Some of my coworkers (I work in a bookshop, I'm getting kinda tired of having to add that parenthetical to every work story I tell on here but it's often essential context, I wish there was a better way. Why can't you just fucking pay attention and remember where I work, that would be nice?) are very smug and proud of themselves about the fact that they make a habit of ratting out teenagers to their parents when they're trying to buy books (to be fair I could probably have just let the context do its own work in this particular post, I didn't really need to say anything. I'm sorry I spoke to you like that earlier) which are, according to the bookseller's no doubt eminently wise and edifying judgment, not age-appropriate--not outright refusing sales, but like when a teen and their parent are both at the till, saying something like "oh just so you're aware this book has some controversial stuff in it"--and I hope I continue to successfully hide how much this pisses me off because oh my fucking god.

Mostly this happens with Colleen Hoover books, who if you're unaware is a very tiktok-popular romance author whose books are sometimes accused of glorifying abusive relationship dynamics, I haven't read her and don't have a good sense of to what extent this is a fair accusation vs people misrepresenting the books to score backlash discourse points, neither possibility would surprise me, but also I don't think the answer to that question is very relevant to anything.

And look, I accept that my free speech absolutist radical position of "teenagers are less stupid than you probably think but even the stupid ones probably should be allowed some intellectual liberties maybe, they're going to be adults in like five minutes jesus christ" is not something everyone can embrace, I do. But the sheer glee with which this one guy the other day was telling the story of a mom getting quite angry with her daughter when he told her about what she's trying to buy, like "haha someone's gonna have an awkward conversation when they leave the shop!", is so so ugly to me... like it would be much easier to believe this was a principled moral stance if you weren't actively making fun of the people you're claiming to protect! And holy shit do you not remember this exact experience, of being a teenager and a bunch of adults who are clearly not actually smarter or better than you nonetheless having strong opinions about what kinds of things you ought to be enjoying and spending time on and thinking about? Do you not remember how much that sucked? (I'm like a decade older than most of these booksellers, I should be the cranky old person whose heart has been consumed by cheap cynical moralism, not them!!)

I could add a little bit here about how obviously it's only the books that are girl-coded that receive this higher level of scrutiny and shaming, but sadly it's getting dark and I had intended to make this a short post so I could go for a run after and I should really do that now if I'm gonna do it at all, you'll have to think about that part in your own time. Sorry for ranting everyone I hope we're all having a chill Saturday apart from me. Are we having a chill Saturday?

#uninteresting #workposting #<- fill out this tag later?

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ootah-canadiensis · 2 months

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STRIIIIIDERRRRR!

I wanted to see how I would interpret the very... very strange anatomy of the Strider. And let me tell you, I had a very tough time figuring out the damned thing.

First of all, You might notice a huge lack of the carapace that covers the Strider's legs and main body, that is because I've figured that the exoskeleton is largely artificial as the other synths seem to have it (with exception of the Hunter,) and that inclined me to believe that the Strider didn't naturally have it, and without it It would largely be that dark green musculature, which of course any living thing would have some form of skin and not exposed muscle. Another point towards the carapace being artificial is how it segments, appears to have bolts and of course, the ventilation on it's back. All of these factors would lead a pretty clear image that the synths originally had other forms of covering, with maybe some exception of the Dropship.

And of course, the mouth and "hand." The mouth is where the particle cannon of the Strider was, as it appears there are vestigial compound eyes next to it, and following the evolutionary advantage of the eyes being close to the mouth, as to know what you're eating... It only makes sense to put the mouth there. One thing that I also noticed in the HL:A model for the strider is that a small piece of musculature seems to "wrap around" where the particle cannon is, which I think might be some form of lip structure?

Next down the line on the head region are the bolts downwards of the giant "bolts" grafted onto the side of the neck, which I believe cover where the ears might've been? In my sketch you can see two frog-like tympanic tissues there. Since the Strider naturally is pretty fuckin' tall, it probably wouldn't need extensive protection for the ears (and also because it was easier for me to draw.)

And the next is... The hanging sack of meat that is the Warp Cannon. God, that was just so challenging to try and rationalise how and why a creature would even have something like it. And yet rationalise I did, as I made it where it is able to grasp things and function as a hand or arm, which inside of it is also it's reproductive organs which are more often than not sealed away like a cloaca or something.

Lastly, the feet of the Strider. I wanted to make sure that it's rounded end was still noticeable, while also resembling like an actual functioning foot. Which I ended up with a soft foot with 5 toes arranged in a star pattern. I had to add that in because it wasn't very clear on my sketch of the foot. I also ended up adding those hairs as sensitive whiskers.

And now for my own personal interpretations for its behaviour pre-combine (as if EVERYTHING wasn't my own personal interpretation beforehand)

In HL:A, you can hear "speech" from the Striders. That is something that caught my attention, and I think that might suggest that the Striders were also just as intelligent as us, just in their own way. As for their culture and society... I'm not sure, if someone wanted to use this as a base for something, be my guest :) At minimum their intelligence could be compared to something like an elephant.

And their feeding habits I imagine are a lot like sauropods of earth, using their rake-like teeth to strip off food such as branches or whatever their native flora might've been like. And speaking of their immense height to reach those glorious foods that most other animals can't get too...

They must have been on a planet with lower gravity, I mean just listen to their walking sounds in-game. Do your legs make creaking sounds just by walking? Their legs are clearly under stress from holding up their weight on Earth's gravity, and because of their new-found body's composition of being made of Combine stuff, their legs won't break! But if you were to place a pre-combine Strider on earth, their legs would- should shatter from their immense scale.

And their ears, I think that the Striders largely communicated through infrasound, largely making noises below our range of hearing which they would have naturally heard with their two sets of ears. With exception from the infrasonic communication being that of the deafening howls and "craggles" as I like to call them. And for their sound design in Half-Life: Alyx? I think those may be sounds that are generated from some kind of Combine tech. Not sure, though.

And I believe that is all I have to say, it was delightful trying to figure out just how the Striders probably would've functioned before the combine came along and mutilated them. And it was so incredibly hard not to have the Strider's warp cannon not be exactly what it looks like. If anything was hard to understand, I apologise since I wrote this all in one sitting and didn't have the time or patience to read it over. This will probably be my last Half-Life post like this unless I still have other ideas for how a lot of the aliens of this lovely franchise live beyond being an obstacle for Gordon to bash with a crowbar

#half life #half life 2 #hl2 #spec bio #speculative biology #half life strider #i hope tumblr doesn't smite me down because of... you know.#that fuckin warp cannon spot

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chaestats · 1 year

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Insecurity drabble w Hyunjin from SKZ!

Request by: anon

Warnings: mentions of ed!!!!!

Ask: "can you make like a drabble for hyunjin with a fem!s/o that has an ed pls? i got diagnosed a month ago, and lord there's literally no one in my life to help me 😨 so it'd be nice if you could do that"

A/n: before we get into it I'd like to say that I don't typically do this kind of content, but I am trying to expand my writings! thank you so much for requesting, love! I don't usually put a/n's but I really hope things get better. hope this helps!!!

Hyunjin, your boyfriend of six months, has been absent for a couple of weeks now. He's been incredibly busy with his new comeback and he appreciated so much how understanding you are. That's one of the reasons he loved you. For you.

You checked the clock, 23:48pm. You let a sigh of frustration as you sat at your shared apartment. Normally, at this time you'd be at bed, asleep. However this past month has been taking a toll on you, really. You never really had really good eating habits, per say but last month you were diagnosed with Ed. Of course, you never told your boyfriend. I mean, why would you want to stress him even more... he's already got so much to think about.

All you could bring yourself to eat today was an apple. And you felt so disgusted...just the thought of eating by itself scared you in a way? You didn't know exactly either, but if you could go for the rest of eternity without eating...you would.

You couldn't stop thinking about it. Just why, why, why did you have to eat this apple...? Why can't you stop thinking about it? Why can't you bring yourself to eat even if you're hungry? Why?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a key at your front door. You quickly grabbed a tissue from the table and sat down on the couch attempting to brush away the tears that spilled just seconds ago.

"Love? You're still awake?" On any other day, the sound of your boyfriend's honey-like voice would have made butterflies run around in your stomach. But not today, not now. He couldn't see you like this.

"Y-yeah, I was just going to bed actually." You rushed out of the room, and in confusion Hyunjin put his jacket away and went into your shared bedroom just to find you laying down on the bed, with your back turned at him.

"Y/n? Can we...um talk for a minute?"

"Not now Hyun... I'm really tired"

"No Y/n. Now." At that he sat next to you on the bed just to see your puffy eyes, still visible in the dark.

"Baby don't tell me you've been crying??" He quickly touched your face looking at you filled with concern.

"No, I'm just tired, baby. And I'm sure you're too. Let's just talk tomorrow, please?"

"Y/n no. Look, you've been incredibly distant and uhm...I really don't know how to bring this up...but it has been on my mind since this morning... can you explain what this is?" He opened your drawer and took out doctor's note, that had written down a few drugs for...appetite stimulation? Is that what he thinks it is?

You looked at him in shock and snatched the paper away.

"Did you go through my stuff?"

"Baby it's not the time for this now. This is serious. I've seen how thin you've been getting. Just...tell me the truth Y/n."

You looked at him, tears spilling once again. Oh, how were you supposed to explain?

"What, no don't cry!Baby calm down... I'm here, yeah? Everything is alright. It's all alright, nothing that you say is impossible to overcome. Nothing."

"I-I got diagnosed with Ed. I know I should have told you and everything bu-"

You got cut off by Hyunjin taking your hands in his, making you stand up.

"Listen here. You're the most amazing thing to ever happen to me. And I-....I really don't want to lose you...not like this...." Tears threatened to spill as he continued "I can't ever let you treat yourself like this...you deserve better."

"Hyun... everything is just fine... I'm dealing with everything perfectly"

It was almost as if you didn't even believe yourself.

"No the fuck you're not! Please, baby. Promise me we'll do this together. That you won't do this all alone..."

"B-but your comeback and your fans and-"

"Y/n nothing will ever be as important as you are. Let me help you. Let me be there. I can't stand seeing you like this...baby please..."

"O-okay..."

You really didn't know what to say. How could you get so lucky? If he couldn't have gotten more perfect then sure he did just now.

He kissed you passionately as you felt his hands cradle up your waist. It was a small gesture, really. But you loved it so much. It showed how caring, how pure his love is.

"I'm here now. You won't ever have to go through this alone."

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kseung · 2 years

Text

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Coffeen't

Requested.

Warnings: Coffee addiction :(, none more tho

Words: HC-126~, Drabble-844~, Both: 970~

I didn't know whether to write the HC or the Drabble, so I did both.

HC:

•You love coffee

•Yet, you love Wednesday more

•It's an addiction, honestly

•At first, Wednesday was glad you weren't being soul-sucked by the abyss that social media is

•But that was NOT better than finding out you, at most, get 3 hours of sleep

•And why? Coffee!

•She tries to get you to sleep at less-demonic hours

•Shes is not able to

•Hardest challenge ever

•Hyde? Trainer boss. You? Final boss.

•She tried to get you decaf coffee once. Never again.

•Bit by bit, you started drinking less coffee

•But you still weren't having 5 hours minimum, so she created a plan. Once you knew you wouldn't reject

•"Cuddle me."

•"What?"

•"Cuddle. Me. Don't make me repeat it."

•So you did.

•Best sleep ever.

Drabble:

You love coffee. You really love coffee. Everyone knew. Even those who weren't your friends. It was evident. Every day you are seen drinking at least 2 coffees. Americano, you say, but with the number of extra shots in there maybe it doesn't count as an Americano anymore.

—You should stop drinking that much coffee.

You looked at Wednesday, almost offended. Enid and Ajax eyed you for a while before returning to whatever lovey-dovey stuff they were doing. She stared, trying to intimidate you. As a challenge, she took your coffee so it could be safely away from you.

—I will not. You drink quads, little hypocrite. You're not so good yourself.

—Say that again and I'll break your hands.

—I mean, you sure love it when I-

She elbowed your side with force, making your grin become bigger. She knows how to kick ass. And it showed. You tried not to make it so obvious that you were in a bit of pain.

—No need to be so violent in public, Wednesday. We can leave that to your room if you-

She gave you your stupid coffee so you could shut up.

•••••

—I'm relieved you are not being indoctrinated by the endless pit of darkness social media is, but, please, stop drinking so much coffee! I can't tell now what I'd dislike more.

—It's not that bad!

—"It's not that bad", you say? You barely sleep 3 hours.

—I wouldn't sleep much anyway, you know.

—You still shouldn't drink that much coffee. It only gives you anxiety.

—At least it gives me mild anxiety. I wouldn't be able to live your life. It'd stress me out too much. Maybe I'd end up drinking double the coffee I do now.

—Don't be difficult.

—I'm just tryna defend my habit.

—Stupidly so—, Wednesday said. You agreed, smiling. It made her annoyed, which made you want to laugh.

—I won't drink more coffee today, don't worry about it.

She eyed you, and nodded. Classes were just continuing, so you went your separate ways.

•••••

You tried. You really tried. But "you really liked the taste," that's what you said. Perhaps it was only the chemical effect of caffeine on your body, or the addiction you were quite sure you had developed.

—I made this one with milk, and just one espresso. It's barely coffee—, you sulked. Wednesday wasn't as annoyed.

—At least you considered your health this time.

You hadn't...

—Yeah... well. As much as I like coffee, I know I should drink more water—.You shrugged and continued drinking. Wednesday sighed.

•••••

After some days of trying to drink less coffee, sleeping earlier, and having decaf, nothing changed. Your sleep schedule was that bad. It made you laugh in pity.

—I swear that if you don't sleep anytime soon I'll be the one putting you to sleep. Permanently.

You jumped in surprise. You hadn't expected Wednesday to wake up. Your head was too busy buried down in a book to check if she was asleep. You closed the book, placing it softly on your desk. When you turned around Wednesday was already glaring at you while sitting up.

—Sorry. I couldn't sleep.

You got up, slowly pushing your chair so it'd be put away. You toned down your lamp until it barely illuminated. It was nice having something other than darkness once in a while.

—It's 2:47 a.m. Lie down. Here—. She moved to her left a bit, then placing her right hand on top of your bedding.

That was an odd invitation, but maybe it was just because; it was your dorm, not hers, which meant no Enid; you had no roommate, so it was peaceful there. It meant she could be the tiniest bit more emotional when she was there.

—Right up.

You weren't complaining about that. Usually, when Wednesday stayed the night, she'd sleep on your bed and not question when and where you slept. You just had some naps here and there, on the desk chair. But she had no business knowing that.

You laid down next to her, stiff like a corpse next to another corpse.

—Loosen up. You won't ever sleep if you stay like that—, she said. Weird. It's odd seeing her be caring. —Else, I'd have no option but to hold you until you sleep.

—Are you saying you will cuddle with me, Wednesday?—, you asked playfully.

She responded with silence, as usual when you tease her. You kept silent too, staring at what you could, barely, make out of the ceiling. You heard a faint "hmm" before you felt an arm wrap itself around you, as light as a feather. You saw Wednesday staring back at you, clearly embarrassed. It was lovely.

You turned to your side, making her see your back. But of course, only to have her hug you tighter. You held her hand in yours as she embraced you. You beat her to her own game despite being tired now.

—No words. Night.

—Sleep well.

That you did, thanks to your very sweet girlfriend.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday adams #wednesday #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday imagine #wednesday imagines #fanfic

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horrorisunknowntoyou · 2 years

Text

[Simon "Ghost" Riley x Wife!-Reader] Headcanons

A/n: my birthday is today! so I wrote this as a treat for myself. I been hella sick and unwell so yeah :) also there's a lack of fluff and domestic stuff so I'm here to provide! + Birthday stuff at the end! 🎂 🎉

TW// dark topics, mentioned of Simon's trauma and mental illness, It's like brief.

Song recommendations:

Somewhere Only We Know - Keane

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

You been married to Ghost for a long time, hell the task force didn't even know you existed until later this year or so.

Your meeting with your husband's buddies/co-workers (?) was quite a pleasant suprised.

Captain price was a lovely fellow, very much the father figure of the group. But he can be very cruel if need be.

Soap was.... interesting, you understand why your husband both love/hate the guy. But he was definitely fun to talk to. He was the most surprised to see you.

Gaz was a sweetheart, nice young man. Funny definitely. Didn't talk much.

Laswell was nice, she seem like the cool aunt type to drink wine or something.

But they definitely were surprised at the revelation that Ghost was married. Which isn't surprising considering the type of man he is.

(also you definitely showed the team your guys wedding photos/videos much to Ghost's protest.)

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

But speaking of marriage, you been married to Ghost for around 5ish years. You met him by chance during an errand. It was really cliche, you accidentally bumped into him. And he was very awkward, and kinda stood their staring at you. You just laughed it off.

In some sense, you two were polar opposites that was interchangeable. He was the moon and you were the sun, etc. You balance each other out.

Also if it isn't obvious, both of you have some sense of dark humor. His was more shitty dad jokes and yours was offensive ones or very niche references to stuff. *Cough." Tumblr "Cough."

Also considering your husband, you were used to his interest in the morbid or macabre. Of course you had to tell him to dial it down so it doesn't hurt him. Specifically his interest in live leak. Also cause you didn't want to see that.

You were also the only person who could properly calm him down, or deal with his anger issues. Reminding him, it's fine to take a step away to breathe. Of course in the beginning it was hard but, you learn to understand him well.

You knew his triggers, his traumas and fears, of course it took ALOT of time and trust for him to even tell you this. But he slowly open himself to you and vice versa.

Also one of his bad habits, be it anger issues, but he sometimes unintentionally gaslight you. You know it means no harm but sometimes it can get overwhelming or lead up to fights. He tries his best not to do it often.

He may not be a great person for comfort, mainly sitting besides you or awkward hugs. But it's obvious he tries his best and that's enough for you.

And he's very protective of you considering what he's been through.

He trained you to defend yourself and how to use a firearm in emergencies just in case. It helps put his minds in ease. But as mentioned earlier, due to his anger issues. He will have the urge to fight anyone who upsets you or hurts you. That's the only time you can't hold him back much to your pleas.

But at the same time, you, yourself is highly protective of him. Of course he's more then capable to defend himself afterall he's a highly experienced military man. Who's 6'4 and 200+ pounds, but even so you will protect him. After all you love him with all your heart. Of course being a civilian, there's not much you can do but you try. And I think that's enough for him.

Also both of you have this weird complex of "I'll put my life aside for my significant other." You both definitely need to work on it.

He also knows your triggers and issues, he doesn't fault you for it. Be it whatever you suffer from, he's always willing to help you, or at least something to lean on.

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

Domestic life between the two of you is interesting.

First things first, Simon wears his mask even at home. He doesn't show his face often and you don't really mind it. As it just became part of him in some sense.

However he has to do face mask with you to make sure 1. His face is handled and cleaned, 2. To wash his masks and hoodies he wears. It makes you cringe at how dirty his mask are.

You two also sometimes play videogames, funny enough first person shooters. You suck at it though, your not terrible but Simon dies inside when your aim is shit. However you force Simon to play Just Dance with you so that's a win in your book!

Also chores between the two of your are planned out before hand so not much issues between that, but if you both are tired you just order out take out lol.

Also surprisingly, Simon's a really good cook he's just lazy or pretends to suck because he doesn't want soap to know. lol

You both have your own specialized mugs to drink tea or coffee in it.

Simon likes to play and brush your hair, it kinda calms him down. He sometimes braid it or style it. You have no idea why he knows how to do this but you ain't complaining.

Simon is also a HUGE sucker for cuddles, either be it sleeping or laying down in the couch. But specifically in bed he's either sleeping as if he's in a casket or he's holding you protectively around his arms. No in-between.

In the more colder months, even though you have your own hoodies, Ghost allows you to wear one his. It engulfs you and it's very comfortable to be in.

But you, you love spoiling Simon. It being some expensive knife he wanted or little charm to add on his weapon. The glee in his eyes make it worth it at times, especially the slight hints of red brushed on him. Of course you respect his boundaries and not overdo it.

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

During Ghost's deployment he likes to keep a picture of you, either a simple picture within his pocket or a locket he hear around his neck.

Same goes for you, you mainly have a picture of him sleeping peacefully while watching TV as your wallpaper, You smile at it every time.

You also have a Polaroid that you keep on deck in your wallet. It has a little note on the back from Ghost. It's cute.

You even have your own version of his skull mask for you too wear, if you feel lonely when he's away weeks at a time.

He does worry his work will put you in harms way or affect you negativity. It plagues his mind and it makes it hard for him to sleep in his cot or wherever.

You do get lonely while he's away, but you manage it.

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

+ [Birthday stuff!] Characters are ooc lmao

When it's your birthday, Simon is alot more soft around you. He truly does care about you, and thankful for you in his life.

You usually have a small birthday party at your guys house with the task force (and some people of your choosing ) Especially, by now you really grew accustomed to them and it felt like a family to you.

You knew the first time round, they definitely struggled, as it was a surprise party. And Soap and Ghost were arguing over the placement of the banner.

Price was absolutely tired but gaz and Laswell (+ her wife) kept you distracted so you didn't even notice much to his relief.

Eventually Ghost sort it out, much to Soap nagging.

And when gaz and others brought back you were surprised with a birthday party.

You were so happy, you almost cried at how sweet everyone is. You were so thankful for this.

You had alot of fun with everything, they absolutely tried, it was like birthday party mixed potluck. It was fun!

There was also a bunch of moments you remembered.

One, Soap got drunk lmao. After the pinatas in which Gaz got most of the candy in his sweater, Soap starting doing some karaoke thing. He was singing California girls. The best thing though, you recorded it and you can see in video Ghost giving him a death stare.

You and Gaz did rock, paper, scissors over shots. You don't drink but it was fun till price like any father figure immediately stops it before it goes out of hand.

Also did you guys get a bounce castle knowing very well you all are grown adults? Yes.

You have alot of videos of it, mainly ghost and soap wrestling each other in the castle. Even though ghost refused to at first but soap pissed him off lol.

Laswell and price mainly stated out there.

You however joined in, and almost gave Ghost a heart attack when you grapped the roof part of the bouncy castle and got lifted up. He immediately pulled you down.

Gaz was the kid who mainly stated in the corner on his phone. But he did join in for a couple of games.

After that mess, you guys did the birthday cake. It was you favorite cake with white candles. And you say at the center of the table, and smiled.

They sang happy birthday and you blew out your candles.

Opening presents was a mess, you had alot of presents, that you didn't expect. Ghost obviously gave them tips what to get you.

You have alot of photos/videos of you opening the gifts.

Overall it was a really fun! You were the second person to fall asleep. Soap was asleep on the couch, you fell asleep on the recliner hidden in a hoodie.

Gaz fell asleep on two party chairs like it was normal. The rest either left or talked.

Overall you had a really fun night.

Also Ghost definitely teased you the next day over the stupid shit you did. But he's happy you enjoyed it.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x female reader

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angelismmm · 1 year

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Finally another arlan enjoyer! Could I get some hcs of a relationship with best boy?

(＾▽＾) relationship hcs ft. ARLAN !

☆ pairings. arlan x gn!reader

☆ synopsis. just relationship hcs w arlan, thats it lmao

☆ a/n. i just picked randomly with a wheel for which ask would i do while waiting for oshi no ko requests aksmdkasdm

⁂ how did it start?

again, like i specified in my other hc fic, or wtv, he meets you through asta! kind of seems like the type to not rly be all that social unless you already know him, or if its for business

kind of shy around you, like lowkey blushing when you both get to talk, but you probably can't really see his blush, the dark skin and stuff yk?! but when you cup his cheeks, they're so round and warm, that's a promise!

asta is such a silly, immediately noticed the crush he had on you, sort of stalked you guys honestly, it was for a good reason! she just listened in on a few conversations.. maybe more than few.. just for good measure, but she's never seen arlan stuttering over his words so much

putting one and one together, she already knew what was going down, and she just needed to get you both together immediately!

asta always has an excuse to leave you both alone after discussing whatever, "oh my, seems like my time is limited once again.. you both can just stay here and just chat for a bit, i'll be back!"

she never came back.

arlan kind of has a hard time trying to start conversations, so you gotta help a bit! be the first the talk, or start asking questions, he's kind of awkward and never really is good at socializing, but if you do the first step, maybe it'll even affect him a bit, and he'll do the first move!

⁂ what goes down (in the relationship)?

actual relationship hcs now, tbh arlan seems like the very clingy, will make it very not obvious though, on the days he really needs it, he'll ask you straight up, with a flushed expression, kind of looks away whenever he asks for this corny ahh stuff

"i just wanna-- i wanna ask.. i uh.. can we.. cuddle? if you're comfortable with that?"

such a sweetheart, i'm not even gonna lie, you probably caught him once or twice asking asta about stuff, like if you'd like these flowers, or if you like something else as a gift better,

will always be nervous when he asks you out, like a cheesy teen couple, he'll be holding out flowers, lowkey stuttering, and holding your hand at the same time

best bet, guaranteed, he has never been in a relationship before, the only reason he knows sooo much about dates is because of books! loves loves loves reading, would definitely be a fairytale irl w him when on dates, picks the cutest locations ever too, like a new cat cafe that opened up, sure!

super creative with gifts, he goes absolutely crazy with it ngl, but in a good way

kind of has a habit of just squeezing your hand while your fingers are intertwined with each other. just does it when he can't find the words to tell you how much he's missed you while you were gone.

probably would also tighten his grip around your waist when it gets a bit crowded in the streets, doesn't wanna lose you in the sea of people yk?!

likes it when you start to trace shapes on his palms or while you both cuddle, and start to draw little stars with your fingers on his back, really just lulls him to sleep, and feels comforted when you do that type of stuff.

finds it so attractive when you stretch, like it shouldn't be that attractive, but it is, he cannot help it, at all.

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!!

#hsr scenarios #hsr x reader #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #honkai star rail #honkai star rail scenarios #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x reader smut #star rail #arlan x reader #arlan x you #hsr arlan #honkai star rail arlan

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icedragonlizard · 7 months

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I very much like my headcanons of all the villain-turned-dream-friends still being very flawed people one way or another.

I'd say that they could all be considered morally grey to various degrees. Some may be nicer than others, but overall I wouldn't really call any of them saints. None of them are irredeemably evil, and Kirby is friends with every single one of them, but they're all still flawed. And Kirby is basically their 'parole officer' as he keeps them all in check.

This post got quite long as I wrote everything I wanted, so I'm gonna post a 'Keep reading tag' down below.

Feel free to click on it if you'd like to see my interpretations on the flaws of some Kirby characters! I'll be covering Marx, Dark Meta Knight, Daroach, Magolor, Taranza, Susie and the mage sisters here.

Marx may be on Kirby's good side now as he's not looking to attempt conquest on Popstar again, but he's still essentially an agent of chaos. He's loud, he's obnoxious, he's widely known to be a prankster, and he loves getting a rise out of people. He enjoys causing scenes purely for the sake of it. And his sense of humor isn't exactly good at having tact, as he'll make jokes out of things that most others wouldn't dare do. He can be considered the most insufferable one out of the bunch.

But there are good qualities to him, too. Some people legitimately think he's the funniest guy alive, so there's that. Marx loves attention in general, regardless if it's bad or good attention, and so he gets delighted if someone likes him and enjoys his antics. He loves it when people decide to join him on mischief. If you're his friend, he'll often give you stuff to laugh about and you're likely to find yourself having fun with him. If he likes you enough, he'll even stand up for you if someone else antagonizes you. His friends are literally his homies.

He's still quite the wild creature, though. It requires a lot of patience and a lax/chill attitude to be able to put up with Marx. It's not uncommon for him to find ways to instigate chaos in Star Allies gatherings. But he CAN be forced to behave, albeit not always easily. Kirby and Magolor are the ones that can most easily get him to listen.

Dark Meta Knight is still a standoffish jerk with a temperament. He's rude, brutal, and isn't at all afraid to say things that might run shivers down people's spines. He's prone to violence if he feels even the least bit agitated. He's also a rather detached person that does not care to make friends with most of the other star allies, and is quite a big hater for the ones that get on his nerves. He has a bad habit of being too blunt about wishing death or general ill-will for people he hates.

Not just that, but I headcanon that Dark Mind is technically still alive as a neutralized little fragment that desperately needs assistance. DMK hasn't given up trying to bring DM back to its former glory, and is still devoted enough to do what DM asks of him to do. It's not actually as frightening as it sounds, though. Trying to bring DM back to its former glory may be impossible due to how much it'd take, so that threat may not warrant much concern, but DMK still strives for it.

But DMK can be kept in check at times by a few others in the cast. I headcanon that DMK is friends with Daroach, Adeleine, Ribbon and Kirby, and he does care about what they think of him. But I hc those are the only friends he has in the cast, as he's the dream friend with the least amount of friends. He doesn't care about anyone else. He's also willing to do art stuff with Adeleine, and will protect his friends from danger. But overall, DMK is still a ruthless son-of-a-gun.

Daroach has a notably kind-hearted side to him, but he's also absolutely still a thief. Some people are ticked off by his persistent thievery. He likes the challenge of breaking into certain areas and to see what's he capable of successfully stealing. This can get especially irritating for some if he's brought the entire squeak squad with him for these instances. Daroach also has a trollish/smug side to him, as he thinks it's funny to get reactions out of people as he steals from them.

He does have standards, though. There are people that Daroach will NOT steal from. This includes Kirby, Adeleine, the entirety of Ripple Star (he'd feel bad to rob from that planet) and he also respects Meta Knight enough to never steal anything from the Halberd. He's also a softy around Kirby. And there's times in the day where Daroach decides to be chill and not steal anything. He can be quite a laidback bro if he's your friend. He has a big sense of humor and if you don't mind him pulling lighthearted fast ones on you, he'll gladly do that.

But he's still our resident thief! Hahaha. And he often has a rather shady demeanor that might make some people put their guards up.

Magolor did make a well known apology and created an amusement park to back it up, but I headcanon he's still very much a flawed person. Much like his buddy Marx, Magolor is a mischievous prankster that likes getting a rise out of people at times, although he's much more tactful than the jester in this regard. There's other problems with Magolor, like how he often says awkward things that make it evident he doesn't have the best understanding of social cues. He also has a tendency to insert himself into things, due to still having a bit of an ego, and he can sometimes be a blatantly obvious suck-up.

It's also arguably somewhat flawed morality-wise on Magolor's behalf to have made all the masks he did for Merry Magoland. He had great intentions with that, as he wanted to honor many people with that, but he made a lot of them without permission. And it ended up being pretty awkward for some people to see the masks. Thankfully, it didn't elicit any reactions bad enough for Magolor to lose any friends, but he arguably should've gotten many people's permission first.

Magolor is still buds with Kirby despite his current flaws, though. And he actually cares about being liked and cares about making people have fun, and so he makes sure that he has standards accordingly for that. He also just has very weird ways of going on about trying to be a better person than what he was before. But regardless, he's trying!

Taranza may be mourning the death of his beloved queen, but as a matter of fact I do not headcanon him to be a complete softboy! Once enough time passed for him to start properly recovering from his loss, he's eventually started coming back to being a snobby rich-theater kid type of guy like he was before. He can be very bizarrely smug and confident at times. He has an iconic devious smile. He makes webs at people's homes with often trollish messages. Don't be surprised if he sneakily rearranges the stuff in your home without you looking.

And believe it or not, he also has a secretly vengeful and vindictive side to him. He'd love to torment and beat up everyone that picks on him. And because it was a dimensional mirror that corrupted his queen, he heavily resents the mirror world and talks smack about its inhabitants. Honestly if he saw a dimensional mirror again he'd love to break it and smash it to pieces. He also legit wants DMK to die.

But overall, Taranza is no serious bad guy anymore. He does have a definite nice and caring side to him. He's really grateful to all of his friends that have helped him out with his grief (especially Susie, who understands him better than anyone else does) and he'd panic like frick when one of his friends gets hurt. He doesn't want to lose any of his current friends, the last thing he needs is MORE things to grieve over. He's also glad to show people about flora. He's also still just a silly-ass rich theater guy that can be quite a big, dramatic handful.

Susie, while no longer the terrifying colonizer she once was, is still very much a corporate-minded woman with a lot of unhinged stuff going on with her. The HWC's practices are substantially improved in her rule compared to what it was in her dad's rule, but she still makes corny business decisions at times. She has a notable stubborn streak, and is often a bit too blunt and formal to people she isn't close enough to be friends with. She's also feisty and a bit too ruthless when it comes to combat, as it may require others to calm her down. And like Magolor, she gets awkward at times with her low understanding of social cues.

She's also still a mad-scientist at heart, although she's mostly stopped mechanizing people (except for those that explicitly WANT it) and has largely shifted to applying her mad-scientist desires on inanimate objects such as toys and accessories. I headcanon that Susie has an entire hobby of making super-detailed custom furbies as I wrote a post about it. But despite the improved shift, she often gets way ahead of herself when experimenting on inanimate objects to the point that the final result of her creations are pretty darn freaky and unnerving to some people. She really loves doing it, though! And the unhinged level of detail to her creations can be hilarious to some.

Susie does have friends that she cares about, and she lets them reign her in as she doesn't want to disappoint them. And despite usually being rather cold, she's not entirely without her kind moments. Susie is at her nicest when interacting with Taranza and Kirby, and she has other friends like Magolor and the mage sisters that she can be great with. Her friends are the one thing that help motivate her to get better. But despite that, Susie is still absolutely a big handful in terms of flaws. She's still a vindictive, standoffish, corporate mad-scientist that's ballsy enough to constantly snap back during confrontations!

The Mage Sisters are still chaotic menaces. They're exceptionally grateful to Kirby and co. for saving them and Hyness in HiAD, and so they definitely ain't doing that Void Termina crap again, but these women still engage in absurdly violent and bombastic activities. They love to destroy random buildings for no real reason other than just for kicks and giggles. They cackle like hyenas when they cause mischief.

Francisca is perhaps the most obviously flawed mage sister, as she literally keeps her frozen trophy collection and even tries to expand it! That's a bruh moment. It doesn't exactly help that she's close buddies with Marx as those two will just make some absolutely absurd hijinks together. Her relatively quiet nature can also be rather unnerving. It's not all bad, though, as she can be genuinely sweet to people that she cares about. And she's kind enough to give you free water with her soda gun if you'd like that, but overall she's an extraordinary freak.

Flamberge is the nicest of the three mage sisters, but she still has her fair share of chaos as she loves causing big booms with her fire abilities. She can be considered a daredevil with that sort of thing. Another notable flaw with her is that she lets Francisca get away with anything. She will NEVER hold her psychotic blue sister accountable. And there's of course her temperament, but she's surprisingly chill a lot of the time and is really only angry if given an actual reason to be.

Zan Partizanne can be quite rude with excessive name-calling, as she has a mentality of "it goes both ways" when her name can't be said right. If you can't say her name right, then she'll make it even by giving you some unhinged nickname. She also has a guilty pleasure of starting playful bickering matches with people purely for fun. That being said, she's something of a leader alongside Hyness at the Jambandran base and is always glad to help guide people around the place, but she can overall be quite a standoffish and feisty person.

The mage sisters do care about trying to be better, though. They want to make Kirby proud as he's essentially their little hero. They're still incredibly unhinged people by virtue of being raised in a literal cult, though, and they still love to start ruckuses and cause chaos. With the amount of mischief they cause with their weapons, it may be wise to keep some distance as to not get caught in their weapons' range.

-----

That's basically everything I got. All these characters are still very flawed people to me. They're all redeemable to various extents, but yeah. I like to think that they all need occasional slaps on the wrists by Kirby. He's their 'parole officer' like I said at the beginning of the post. He keeps them in check. And it works as they all respect him!

But despite sometimes slapping them on the wrists, Kirby does care about all these people. He's friends with all of them. He cheers them on as they progress in life. When they do good things, he's proud of them! He also can't help but feel sorry for the more traumatized ones.

Kirby has remarkable tolerance. He can basically be friends with bad people, lol. He always has faith and sees the good in people. He's the perfect little guy to motivate people to get better. He can keep someone in check from doing bad things, and is merciful enough to always give them a second chance. Man, thank this universe for Kirby!

Thanks for reading if you did. See you for the next one.

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