#Which is not what I'm saying but I do think maybe some training should be encouraged before we skip straight to publication
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For @charles-rowland-week Day 3: Bag of Tricks Backpack!
I have a lot of thoughts about the backpack (I love a bag of holding) so here's one scene from what will hopefully be a whole fic someday, set at some point before Charles has quite figured the bag out.
***
"I do wish you wouldn't do that in the office," Edwin says from his seat at the desk. He's been reading the same book for more than a day now, some thick alchemy tome that's apparently fascinating enough to hold his interest despite being written using Linear B, which even Edwin finds challenging.
Charles, setting the sparkly rock he's just pulled out of his backpack next to the pair of sunglasses and ornately painted saltshaker that had preceded it, grins up at him.
"You don't want me to bring the bag on cases, now you don't want me to mess with it in the office," he says. "Where am I meant to practice, on the roof?"
"I didn't want you to bring it on cases because I worried you would put case-relevant materials in by accident and not be able to retrieve them in time," Edwin replies primly. "Now that that ship has rather dramatically sailed, I don't want you to use it here because I worry that you will retrieve certain case-relevant materials."
"I told you, I'm pretty sure it ate the demon bats," Charles says. "I mean, digested and all. We're never gonna see them again."
He's only mostly joking about that. Nothing he did should have given the bag the ability to digest magical creatures, but he's got the strong feeling that it has a sense of humor, and if it can develop one of those on it's own, a stomach isn't much of a stretch, is it?
"For all your insistence on that point, you're very willing to put your arm inside of it," Edwin says, not sounding particularly concerned. "Do you not worry that it will gain a taste for ghost, next?"
"Mate," Charles gasps theatrically, "our backpack would never."
"That abomination is entirely yours, as far as I'm concerned."
This is somewhat fair, considering that the bag probably wouldn't have the audacity to withhold Edwin's books if he'd been the one to enchant it instead of letting Charles do it. However, the comment runs counter to Charles' current strategy: sweet-talking the bag into compliance.
"Don't worry," Charles tells it in a conciliatory tone, "he loves you really."
He glances up at Edwin, expecting a comment about misguided anthropomorphizing or something, but no, he's back to the book.
With a sigh, Charles reaches into the backpack again, focusing on his boomerang. It had been pretty cool, enchanted to return right to your hands when you threw it, even after it hit something. He and Edwin had spent weeks poking at the spell to figure out how to reproduce it for Charles' bat.
But at some point after that, it had occurred to Charles to wonder what would happen if he threw it into the backpack, and, well. Here he was a year later, groping around in the void.
(Chucking random magical objects in was probably not making the backpack's behavior more predictable, but Charles never managed to think about things like that until after he'd followed through on the impulse.)
He'd realized (again, shortly after doing it) that the problem with enchanting a bag to be infinite inside was that it now contained infinite amounts of empty space. It's taken him years just to consistently find something when he reaches in. Now he just has to work out how to find what he's actually looking for.
After a few seconds of grasping blindly, his fingers brush against something. It's small, flat and thin like a piece of paper, but a little sturdier-- maybe one of the cards he'd put in as a test a few months back? He'd been pretty sure the whole deck would stay together, but maybe if something else he put in had bumped itā¦
As far as he can tell by touch, there's nothing else 'nearby' in the void, so he pulls the object out and finds that it's not a card but a bookmark, one of the celluloid ones that Edwin prefers. It's in the shape of a train car, with a little advert for the rail company on the back; Charles thinks he remembers Edwin saying he used to collect these, as a child.
"Think it's trying to tell you something, mate," Charles says, holding it up for Edwin to see.
"Charles, the bag doesn't have ears," Edwin says, but he does finally look away from the book. He cocks his head as he recognizes the bookmark, expression going thoughtful. "If anything, I would say this is an indication that it's responding to your desires."
"Feel like it would be a bit easier to use if it were doing that," Charles grumbles, and Edwin's mouth quirks a bit.
"I suppose I will take the hint, wherever it originates," he says, rising and coming around the desk to retrieve the bookmark. "I admit I could use a change of scenery."
"Brills," says Charles, climbing to his feet. "Wanna take the bag to the roof and see what happens if I turn it inside out?"
"Absolutely not."
#dead boy detectives#charles rowland#edwin payne#dbda#dbda fanfic#charles rowland week#my writing#if it were a bag of holding inverting it would just dump out everything inside#of course bags of holding aren't infinite so this could go substantially worse!
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"Tbh I was starting to feel a bit down about my blog and what I was putting out ( the eternal crisis on how to give full answers and opinions without being stupid, boring and annoying lol)"
OMG no way! Your blog is one of the best here! What i love the most is reading the analysis and meta from the users, there's always more information and good takes, and yours are always quite deep and insightful.
I would love if you share your opinions about Stuart as well. I feel like he is obviously more sanctified that he should be since he died young (like that insane quote from his mom saying that Brian told her that Stuart could have been the Beatles' manager, no way lol) and i feel his memory has been used to attack Paul, sometimes in a very unfair way. Like, i don't deny the teenage drama and jealousy that Paul felt about him but he *was* a shitty bass player and the band was Paul's future, he was allowed to criticized him not only for being John's new bestie. I also think John played with them both but i lack of your eloquence so i will love to read your take about it.
Hi anon! And the other anons!
Thank you again and to all the other messages I got, they were extremely sweet and really made my day. :)
From my inbox, it's clear you guys want to know about Stu and his role in the Beatles legacy. Well you asked for it and a novel you shall have. Be warned this might be the longest post I've done so grab like a drink or something.
A few disclaimers: I wish and had intended for this to be more of a deep dive into Stu as a whole person rather than just his relationship with John and Paul. Unfortunately I just didn't have the space to do it. If you want to know more about Stu I would highly recommend @eppysboys' blog which is the source for all things Stu Sutcliffe and where I got a lot of this info. Please check their stuff out. Also, I'm going to be a bit blunter on this than maybe I usually am because this topic has been irritating me for some time. Oh also Iām trying my best to answer a lot of asks in one post so please forgive if I donāt fully answer your specific ask about this!
Stu in a perfect world should be a fandom darling: an exciting cipher, a handsome artistic talent that died way too soon who had a major influence in the early Beatles style. It's like thereās this secret other James Dean looking mf Beatle hidden away to uncover, that's cool and he is cool! The problem is that heās sort of becomes radioactive to talk about in a normal way due to how he's been portrayed and utilised in some biographies and fandom spaces, particularly those that have been infected by John Lennon aspirational boy bestie syndrome. As those types of spaces cannot seem to exist without tearing down Paul to prop John up as their special lil guy, Stu as John's other best friend has become the ideal heavy object to hit Paul McCartney over the head with. It's like a corrosive element, the minute Stu hits a Beatles bio, the biographer suddenly loses all training in objectivity and source work and starts waxing lyrical about 100 percent reliable never biased or wrong Saint Stu of Hamburg who died for our condom arson sins and that Paul McCartney should feel bad about every day of his life for not worshipping Stu and not accepting his own āplaceā in life as John's just-some-guy placeholder best friend. Iāve personally seen so many posts and forums where Stu being mentioned leads to a legion of comments about how Paul could never have been Stu (correct both ways) and how John would never have even glanced at Paul for much longer if Stu had been alive. Sidenote: If you seriously think that the musical savant from down the road whom John went on to produce the most prolific song writing partnership in history with couldnt have kept his attention for long then I'm begging you on hands and knees to get your head out of the arse of your John Lennon body pillow and be serious. But anywayā¦
This boy bestie battle royale approach has in turn lead to a reflex reaction where Stu gets studiously ignored by other sections of the fandom as a precedent has been set that shining a light on him diminishes Paul and John's relationship with Paul. It's frustrating because if people weren't so keen to cut Paul out of his own story then we would get a much better nuanced view of every single person involved.
So let's put aside all of our defenses, cut the John Lennon loved one ranking system bullshit and lets look at the actual question here which is what was John and Stu's relationship really like and what did he mean to John?
John and Stu met at art college a year or so after Paul and John met. Up to that point John and Paul had their fun little codependant thing going on but Stu quickly became a huge fixture in John's life. Stu had things that Paul couldn't really offer at that point in time. John was at his heart a musician who aspired to be seen as an artist (he would later express surprise that he didn't become an artist). Stu was the passionate artist who knew tons about the art of the period that could teach and inspire John. Their creative leanings meant they could work on projects together and share art notebooks and poetry. (Including yes the one with anti-semitic story which I mention again as I believe it's an important thing to remember when it comes to both John and Stu and the culture of the time.) Stuart by the sounds of it was even writing a novel about John at the time of his death. They were fascinated and inspired by each other.
So, creatively they fired each other up but more importantly perhaps, Stu and John were peers. It's funny to think about when you see the Beatles later but at the time Paul and George were the kids in their school uniform coming to see their cool older friend at art school. That's an important divide. When Paul and George's parents insisted their kids do their homework and go to bed, John and Stu could stay up and talk all hours of the night, which they did. They also could rent a place together and spend long hours chatting (despite John moving out later after realising electricity cost money lol.) There's a different dynamic that the age similarity offered as well. Whilst Paul would later somewhat grow into this role, Stu could act as an authority figure to John as well as open up to John in a way you can really only do with your peers. Stu was the person John opened up to throughout Stu's life:
How long can one go on writing and writing like you. I now donāt really know who Iām writing to or why itās quiet peculiar. I usually write like this and forget about it but if I put it in a little part of my [almost?] secret self in the hands of someone miles away who will wonder what the hell is going on or just pass it off as toilet paper. Anyway I donāt care really what happens because when I think about it, itās so bloody unimportant ā but what is important who has the right to say that this letter is not important and this is a something any way ā anyway ā anyway ā yeah! I wonder what it would be like to be a cretin or something. I bet itās gear. & how are you keepin Stuart old chap are you as ok ā is life as good ā bad shite, great ā wonderful as it was or is it just a thousand years of nothing and coolness on and on and on. I think this is it Goodbye Stu donāt write out of ā er what is it? well not because you think you ought to write when you feel like So goodbye (from John you know the one with glasses) ANYWAY BYE BYE see you soon I donāt know why I said that I remember a time when everyone I loved hated me because I hated them so what so what so fucking what I remember a time when belly buttons were knee high when only shitting was dirty and everything else clean + beautiful I canāt remember anything without a sadness So deep that it hardly becomes known to me so deep that its tears leave me a spectator of my own STUPIDITY + so I go rambling on with a hey nonny nonny nonny no
Extract from a letter to Stuart Sutcliffe from John Lennon, 1961
By lots of accounts Stu was gentle but firm when it came to telling John he'd gone too far. John references this aspect of Stu to Hunter Davies:
"I looked up to Stu. I depended on him to tell me the truth. Stu would tell me if something was good and I'd believe him."
The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (Hunter Davies)
In this way I kind of see Stu as a proto-Yoko. John was so insecure and uncertain about his grip on the world and reality that he relied on Stu to be his point of reference and guide. Paul did this too later and I think in Hunter Davies John mentions this, but not at this time period and not as much due to their competitiveness. This may be why some people saw Stu as the person that really understood John at this time period:
"During the turbulent adolescence that prefaced a turbulent manhood, hardly anyone knew Lennon as intimately as Stuart Sutcliffe. If they weren't exactly David and Jonathan, June Furlong, one of the life models at Liverpool's Regional College of Art, had "never seen two teenagers as close as those two."
The Gospel According To Lennon by Alan Clayson
Now this person likely never met John and Paul together but this is only one of many similar quotes and even Julia captain of John and Paul's friendship boat seems to agree there was a period where Stu dominated and Paul 'kept his distance' from the John-Cyn-Stu 'menage-a-trois'. But the friendship wasn't perfect and his position as John's ultimate best friend was never iron clad. This is best outlined by the shit they pulled when John convinced him to join on Bass for the Beatles.
Despite being John's best friend, Stu was teased and bullied:
"They argued as usual amongst themselves, but most of all they picked on Stu, the newest member of the group. John, George and Paul had been with each other long enough to know that rows and arguments and criticism didn't mean much. If it did, you just argued back. "We were terrible," says John. "We'd tell Stu he couldn't sit with us, or eat with us. We'd tell him to go away, and he did." At one hotel they stayed at, a variety show had just left. There had been a dwarf in the show and they found out which bed he had slept in and said that would have to be Stu's. They certainly weren't going to sleep in it. So Stu had to. "That was how he learned to be with us," says John. "It was all stupid, but that was what we were like."
The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (Hunter Davies)
Why John encouraged this I have no idea, maybe jealousy over Stu's looks and wanting to play people off each other? Things were tense in both Scotland and Hamburg, especially between Stu and Paul. As I said in my last post, the girls were fighting and it was mutual. Paul was mad for both fair and immature teenage-boy reasons. Stu could not be bothered with the bass most of the time and couldn't really play well and was only there as he was '(John's) best friend' (ouch for Paul). Paul conversely had given up higher education to be there and was sending lots of money back home. He also was dating the girl Paul fancied. Stu was popular with the new group and also did mean things like help John steal Paul's money when money was really tight for him. Paul in turn was a passive aggressive, jealous and mean. It all came to ahead in the punch up onstage which according to Spitz came about from Paul wanting money back and saying that Stu could borrow some from Astrid. Stu goes for him and reports vary from full-on bust up to embarrassing scuffle. Stu then goes to where Astrid and Paul's gf Dot are, demands Dot leaves and goes on a rant about Paul. Now all of this must be framed in the context of Stu receiving increasing brain damage from his condition that seemingly lead to mood swings and anger. Nevertheless, the mutual needling and anger, as well as John's refusal to do/say fuck all about it, especially given how protective John was of Stu, suggests that it wasnāt straightforward and/or John may have been playing some games to make both feel threatened. This would also make sense as to why we hear conflicting accounts of John and Stu being the centre of everything and everyone else in orbit AND John and Paul being the centre and everyone else playing catch-up, as well as John giving Paul the lead to take him round the Reeperbahn when John got dressed in the gorilla costume. (I know Paul may have just been the closest there but that always gave off bestie behaviour to me.)
(I did get an ask about how John and Paul's friendship survived it, I think it was damaged by Hamburg. When Paul got back home he got a job at a construction site and there's just a vibe of everything being a bit on tenterhooks. John also acts a bit weird at the period, not talking to anyone for a few weeks then making a lot of weird demands from Paul. I'm really not sure what to make of it.)
Even when he's back in Liverpool, John still writes long letters to Stu and vice-versa. I can't find it at all but Iāve read a really sad interview with John saying he missed his best mate and it's a shame that he's not with them. He had no idea at that point that Stu had already died of a brain hemorrhage at 21.
John is said to have gone into hysterics when he found out Stu had died. A lot of people who've spoken about this time (Aunt Mimi, his sister Julia, the Exsis) concur that at this point Stu was his best friend and the death shattered him. He even told Astrid he wished he could give his life for Stuās. This is backed up by the fact that John never forgot Stu and his shadow lingered for the rest of John's life:
Stu was recalled in In My Life
Years later, after John composed the first of his truly poignant and heartfelt Beatles songs, "In My Life"āwith its lines about "friends I still can recall/some are dead and some are living"āhe revealed to me that the two people he had had uppermost in mind were myself and Stuart Sutcliffe. And then he stunned me with a statement that I'd never heard him address to anyoneāleast of all to another man. "You know, Pete," he said softly, "I do love you. But," he quickly added, "I loved Stuart as well."
Weird that Paul isn't mentioned surely you think that he would be mentioned if Pete was there too okay, okay my tin hat is going away this isn't the time
Pete Shotton, Nicholas Schaffner, John Lennon: In My Life
In 1965 John drew Stu on a postcard
He apparently said this about Stu prior to sending the postcard, prompted by an article about Stuart.
The card had been sent from Genoa mid-way through the Beatles' Italian tour. [...] But the conversation had become maudlin when I reminded him that he was going to talk to me for an article about Stuart. [...] In that sad telephone conversation before they set off for Milan, I asked him if he was happy: 'I'd be a lot happier if Stuart was still part of us,' he said, 'The Beatles would be complete.' And before he rang off he said 'Ill send you something.'
He also appears on the cover of Sgt Pepper
As mentioned, Stu gets mentioned in Hunter Davies in terms of wistfulness and guilt AND he gets a mention in John's insane 'if I were a homosexual' ramblings in early 70s. According to Yoko, John also wanted Yoko to write letters to him and didn't think it would be strange because Stu wrote letters to him.
I have a pet theory that as with a lot of things for John, his unresolved grief over Stu really came to the fore in the late 60s now that he had actually had a chance to sit down and think about things. I believe it was partially why he wanted Yoko to write letters and why he gets mentioned in the early 70s as a collaborator/best friend and not in 1980 where John only gives that credit to Paul and Yoko. I think with the cracks with Paul, John had started to think back on his old friend and guide and what advice he would give.
Stuarts presence is still felt throughout the seventies:
āHe told me everything. He loved to talk about Hamburg. There were no secrets. It was the kind of life I never knewā¦. It meant total freedom. At his side always was Stuart, sweet Stuart. There wasnāt a time in Johnās life when he didnāt think about Stuart. He spoke always of his love and respect for Stuart.ā
Yoko discussing Stu in When They Were Boys: The True Story of the Beatlesā Rise to the Top by Larry Kane
Coming to grips with his death is also present in Skywriting
SEAN OāHAIRE: What happened to Stuart Cliff? DR. FISCHY: What happened was a full exchange of energy where it was not needed within the expression of your own self or in the energies involved around and about you. We cannot call it a happening. Weāll say it is an awakening, for in that way it has served an expression from the past to the present and to the future to where there shall be more of that incomplete vibration expressed to you in a more fuller understanding.
Skywriting by Word of Mouth, John Lennon
This isn't exhaustive but I think from all this it's pretty clear that John adored Stu, John grieved Stu and kept grieving Stu. Stu had a specific place in his life as a confidant that he tried to recreate with Yoko. At the time of Stu's death, he was John's best friend, probably slightly over Paul. Stuart had been able to be both a friend and paternal presence, a confidant and an artistic collaborator. His presence and loss was one of the foundational points in John's life.
But as we've been asked to play this stupid game and so many bios like to make a hoopla about it, were they at their closest ever as close as John and Paul were at their height?
No.
How do we know? Because John told us so:
" He [Paul] still is the closest friend I've ever had, except for Yoko, so I'm still close to him whatever goes on."
John Lennon to an interviewer, 1971
But Walrus! John just says shit! How do we know he isn't leaving out Stu because the press don't know Stu. Well true John does just say shit but this is at a time where John isn't the most glowing about Paul and he's had no problem mentioning Stu in this time period ('one of my best friends ever' would have made a similar point).
But Walrus again! If John picked Stu over Paul when they were young why wouldn't he be the boy bestie of all time, and why would John say that he was closer to Paul? Well, because of the environment and timings. Stu's death happened near the beginning of John and Paul's major bonding moments. If you look at their personal timeline, Paris, the Nerk twins, and getting signed happened just before Stu died. That's missing the major years of Beatlemania, Key West, LSD, Paul growing more into being John's peer and a load of other huge moments in their lives. It's like how John writes to Cyn in 1962 about wanting the house to themselves and not have Paul around all the time. Would you say because he feels closer to Cyn then that John in his overall lifetime loved Cyn more than Paul? No, because relationships change over time and theirs were no exception. (One thing to consider as well is that we don't yet have many letters between John and Paul during their Beatles years and earlier, probably because they were spending so much time with each other. We know a couple exist that Paul considers too personal for publication but I'm sure there are others. It's easy to understand what John felt for Stu as we have the letters, I think we would also have an easier time understanding what John felt for Paul if we had the equivalent of those.)
At the end of the day Paul was the man he believed he had a psychic bond with, the man he couldnāt shut up about, the man whom heād conquered the world with with their endless collaboration, the man with a twin personality to him and according to John spent more time with throughout the 60s than he had with Yoko ever. To be frank if Paul had died in 67' I don't think this would have been a conversation.
As mentioned early, in early 1970s John elevates his partnership with Stu to his collaborations with Paul and Yoko but by 1980 heās pretty clear that Paul and Yoko are their own category.
"I was saying to somebody the other day, āThereās only two artists Iāve ever worked with for more than a one night stand, as it were. Thatās Paul McCartney, and Yoko Ono.ā And I think thatās a pretty damned good choice!!"
John Lennon interview with DJ Dave Sholin, 1980
There are of course the what ifs. Would Stu still being alive mean that John was not as close with Paul? Maybe, highly doubtful though as the Beatles experience was so intense. If Stu remained a Beatle would John be as close with Paul? If Stu remained a Beatle he wouldn't be Stu so no. At the same time who knows what it would have been like if Paul and John were peers from the off? I said this to @the62ndbugsfan when it comes to Stu vs Paul (hi girl sorry i've made our chat a whole ass post lol) but to go a bit Wuthering Heights, soulmates are made as much from the earth as they are of the stars. What binds us is our experiences just as much as our personalities. There may be a universe where Stu and John took on the art world together or became inseparable bffs again after the Beatles disbanded, but it is not our universe. In this universe Stu tragically died and John and Paul chose to become Lennon/McCartney and artistically unite themselves forever.
Even going back to Stu's lifetime, I've said it before and I'll say it again I find it interesting that not only did John choose to go to Paris with Paul rather than pay to meet up with Stu somewhere but that they arranged to meet up with Juergen and nobody told Stu until they'd already gone. Stu was shocked and didn't know if it meant the end of the Beatles which is a pretty big thing for him not to know about. Why didn't John tell him if they're apparently still writing long letters? Was it because he really wanted to do this with Paul and didn't want to hurt Stu's feelings? And that's really the point I want to make here. Due to his trauma John was preoccupied with reinforcing ranking of relationships within his life. But the thing is friendship rankings are made up guidelines and the reality is far more complicated. You can have a designated best friend but feel closer to another friend at times, you can want to do one thing specifically with one friend and not the other for various reasons. You can (as I do) have more than one equal best friend. Friendship as with most relationships are in a constant state of flux and each friendship you have will give and mean a different thing, even if they are of similar value to you.
Paul may have ended up closer to John than Stu had been, but that doesen't make John's relationship with Stu any less special. Nor does Stu negate the significance of Paul. Whilst both fit into John's pattern of intense relationships and demands related to that, both had unique positions and meaning to him. Considering what I've gone into about John's closeness to Stu, it actually says something deeply, borderline unnervingly, intense about John and Paul that Paul pipped Stu to the post. Maybe it's time Beatles bios accept the fact that John Lennon just wouldn't be into them like that, stop using a tragically prematurely deceased young man as a prop in their jealous psychological warfare against Paul McCartney, stop perpetuating one of the most damaging games that John did to his loved ones and allow both relationships the space to shine and showcase the amazing talent that was the Beatles and those that surrounded them.
#if I wanted to be truly truly tin hat#I would say that Stu is the friend he recalls and still loves#but Paul is the one he loves more#but THATS TINHATTING NOTHINGs BEEN CONFIRMED ABOUT THAT SONG#Iām just side eyeing it respectfully#but donāt let the weird biographers win#donāt make two girl bosses fight like this#John had two hands you know?#john and Stu#john and Paul#really long post sorry#Submarine postbox#Ask#anon#ask me anything#Please look Stu up heās super interesting#And more than just Johnās tragic friend#Though bless him he was not meant to be a writer#That prose is PURPLE#Stu Sutcliffe
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OH MY FUCKING GOD??
We actually managed to get ahold of the doctor I saw last before I left yesterday(who I believe was my doctor for the whole stay) and he said that the nurse was either misinformed or straight up lying to me about what dose I was being given AND they denied me medication he prescribed!!
Apparently, they usually start patients with 5mg of oxycodone once they're in their rooms after surgery and IF THAT ISNT ENOUGH they are instructed to give me another dose to bring me up to 10mg and if it wears off I should have been given more even if it was within six hours, so yeah the nurses not only TOLD ME I was being given 10mg when I fucking WASN'T, they were ALSO SUPPOSED TO GIVE ME MORE MEDS THE SECOND I SAID WHAT THEY'D ALREADY GIVEN ME WASN'T HELPING OR IF THEY WORE OFF EARLY AND THE WHOLE "YOU ONLY CAN TAKE IT EVERY 6 HOURS EVEN IF IT WEARS OFF AND YOU'RE SOBBING AND AT A 10" THING WAS HORSESHIT.
The pharmacy ALSO did not fill all of the scripts they were given?? The doctor told us that on top of the pain meds he prescribed miralax to help with the ungodly, agonizing bloating I'm dealing with AND A MUSCLE RELAXER TO HELP WITH THE PAIN neither of which were given to me OR EVEN PUT ON MY DISCHARGE PAPERWORK.
The Doctor not only apologized profusely, he said he's going to talk to the nurses I had and let them know what they were doing was directly contrary to his instructions and that isn't fucking okay, and up the dose of the painkiller with a new script since the current one just isn't helping enough and the only thing I have to do is bring in and swap whatever I have left of the old ones, AND make sure the muscle relaxer and miralax get filled!!
He also let us know the setting my shunt is at, the headache I have is normal but if it gets really bad or lasts more than a few days (or if I just feel like something isn't right) that I should call back or just go to the ER, that I should be drinking 64oz of water a day as well as whatever electrolyte drinks I want, AND I can have coffee which should help, and sprite or ginger ale or anything I think will help with the nausea.
I take the shit I said about the doctor back HE knew what the fuck he was doing, the nursing staff and pharmacy just fucked the hell up for whatever reason. Which like...ngl given that two of the nurses were standing in the hallway, ignoring my repeated requests for help and the fact that I was literally sobbing in agony at even the lightest touch in favor of shit talking me!! I feel like maybe we had a case of at least some of the nurses being assholes for no reason. I will probably never know why but I do have a buzz cut, am giving off undeniably queer ass vibes, and had gay pride buttons on my bag, I live in Arizona, and I'm almost certain my gender in the system is set as nonbinary so....I can say for sure but it does makes me wonder.
(Honestly tho it's probably just them being understaffed and stressed and the whole "med school essentially teaches you that all patients are so stupid you can't trust anything they say AND drug addicts waiting to happen" thing and/or the fact that the worst people in the world will always seek out positions of power and being a nurse is a great way for terrible people to gain concerning amounts of power over vulnerable people.)
I'm still never going to this fucking hospital again unless I have literally no other choice tho. They have a long history of treating me and my family like complete and utter shitālike the horror stories I could tell I s2g they nearly killed my mom due to neglecting her severely infected leg for TWELVE HOURSāthat place is run by people who literally only care about profit and staffed with the worst, most cruel and careless nurses I've ever met(and that sucks because they are partnered with the local university so basically ALL nursing students in my city train there) and the few that do give a shit are so stressed and miserable they can barely provide care at all.
Christ alive. What a fucking hellhole. Glad I was right about these last two days being a nightmare of bullshit and I never, ever should have been treated that way. Small comfort, but it's still a comfort.
Anyway I'm gonna go take my new, correctly dosed meds, eat something, and take a nap o7 sorry for all the venting, hopefully this is the last of it.
#if any of those goddamn nurses makes a tiktok about me I'll sue the whole fucking hospital do not test me#personal#kinda negative#mostly positive#cw medical neglect
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LinkedIn sent me another job rec list, and I finally know why BookTok is like that
#They sent me the 'freelance novel writing' job which has a priority for vampire werewolf billionaire dark romance type tags#And they seem to pay good for absolute schlock#And if that is being sent to random people ofc they're gonna pump out some trash to submit just to get paid#And I know I sound holier-than-thou about this like people shouldn't be allowed to write#Which is not what I'm saying but I do think maybe some training should be encouraged before we skip straight to publication
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firewood
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Lumberjack! Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: When you decide to chop wood in your backyard, your hot neighbor, who happens to be a lumberjack, offers you some help.
Word count: 4.8K
Warnings: +18āļøsmut, hot neighbor bucky is a fucking warning, kinda size kink, rough sex, protected sex, dirty talk, pet names
Author's note: this is one of my favorite works, so I hope everyone who hasn't read it before will like it too (it's hard to not fall for lumberjack Bucky, tbhš¤·āāļø)
āHey, do you need help?ā You stopped what you were doing. You breathed heavily, your arms ached, and you were already sweating. The man, your neighbor, whom you already saw a few times when you arrived home, was standing before you with his hands in his jeans pockets.Ā
He was attractive. Really handsome. Probably 6 feet tall, with broad shoulders and visibly a lot of muscles under the clothes. Yeah, that red henley left nothing for your imagination. His dark hair was put in a low bun, and he had a little stubble on his face. But you mostly noticed his bright blue eyes, which looked straight at you very attentively.
āSorry, what?ā You said as you wiped sweat from your forehead with the sleeve of your shirt.Ā
āI asked if you needed help. Sorry, but it seems like you have some troubles.ā He smiled at you almost shyly, and you couldnāt even make yourself mad at his words.Ā
āUm, Itās my first time doing it.ā You awkwardly smiled back, finally putting a big ax to the ground. āBut I need wood for my fireplace, so I have to work with what I have.ā
āI seeā¦ but donāt you have a boyfriend or a husband? I mean, itās not really easy to do for a woman, and you seem pretty... petite for this?ā It almost sounded like a question. āI wanted to say that I can help you if you allow me, because that thing might be really dangerous if you donāt know how to work with it, and I'm a lumberjack, so... itās not a problem for me.ā He awkwardly started to rub his neck. āIām Bucky, by the way.ā
āFor a woman?ā You playfully arched an eyebrow. āSo you think that only men can do this?ā You saw how his eyes widened, and you tried to hold your laughter.
āNo, no! Thatās not what I meant!ā He lifted both hands in the air. āItās just gonna take you forever to do, and as I said before, Itās not the safest work. And since this is my job, I couldāve helped you. As a neighbor, you know?āĀ
āRelax, Iām just joking.ā You softly smiled at him. āNice to finally meet you. Iām Y/N.ā You reached out your hand. Buckyās face relaxed, but then his lips curled into a mischievous smile.
āI like you.ā He said, as he shook your hand. His grip was tight, and you felt that he really did a lot of physical work with his hands.
āOhā¦ thanks?āĀ
āSoo, do you need help?ā He asked again.
āUm, honestly, I donāt know. I canāt just let you work for me for free. Can I pay you?ā
āDoll, I have enough money, and I donāt need yours. I donāt think that you need tons of firewood, so it would be easy work for me.ā
āOkay, but maybe I can give you food? Pastry? I really love to cook, and everyone said that Iām good at it.ā You nervously played with your sleeve while Bucky was staring directly at you.
āDeal. I would honestly die for homemade food, ācause last time I ate it was at my maās and I really miss it. But you donāt have to do this, okay?ā
āAnd you donāt have to help me.ā You shot back.
Buckyās smile grew wider, and he started shaking his head. āYou have some temper, doll... Friday is okay?āĀ
āYeah, totally, any time youāre free.āĀ
āDeal. I should probably go, and you better start training to cook food for me. I am really picky, and you insisted on paying me with it.ā He said and started to walk back.
āOh, shut up.ā You laughed. āI know what Iām doing; donāt underestimate me!āĀ
āFine. See ya, doll.ā Bucky waved at you with the biggest smile on his face and finally walked away.
Well, itās gonna be interesting.Ā
For the next almost two months, Bucky had been āworkingā for you, and you paid him with your food every single time because you couldnāt leave that man starving after he just got home from work and then willingly helped you.Ā
You two got closer. Bucky was a really good man; you found out it while you were sitting in your backyard looking at how his muscles were moving with every swing of the ax. He was right that it wasn't a big deal for himāthe job that you wouldāve been doing for several hours he did in twenty or thirty minutes.Ā
The conversation with Bucky was easy, he was a pretty reserved person, but he still told you everything about his job and his friends and asked you things about your life. It was hard not to fall for him. Especially when he gave you this boyish smile every time it was time to say goodbye or when you brought him your homemade food.Ā
Usually he comes to your house every Friday after work around 6 p.m., but today it was already 8 and he still didnāt show up. There was no light in his windows either, so you became really worried that something serious had happened.Ā
You were nervously sitting on the bar stool in your kitchen while your dinner was getting cold on the stove. You really had no appetite. What if he got injured from his dangerous work? Or maybe you were just overreacting and he went on a date with someone? You really had no reason to be worried that much because Bucky probably didnāt even think of you as a close friend, and you were just a too dramatic person with attachment issues.Ā
The light knock on the door scared you a little bit, but you still jumped out of your seat to open it.Ā
Bucky was standing there, visually perfectly fine and without any injuries, and you sighed with relief.Ā
āBucky, oh my god, hi. Are you okay? I was really worried about you, and I donāt even have your phone number to text or call.ā You mumbled as your eyes studied his face.Ā
āHey, doll.ā Bucky softly smiled at you, but it was obvious that he wasnāt really in the mood. āIām fine. Just a shitty day at work. My boss went fucking crazy over nothing, and it was just a mess.ā He ran a hand through his long hair. āBut I have to do your firewood, so I'll go change and be back in a few minutes, ākay?ā
He started to go back, but you caught him by his wrist. āNo, Buck, wait. You donāt have to do it right now, really. I have enough wood, and youāre really exhausted. Come in; I have fresh lasagna and chocolate muffins.āĀ
āUmāare you sure? I mean, you donāt have to.ā He mumbled. You noticed that you were still holding his wrist, but decided to leave it that way.Ā
āDonāt worry, I have enough food, and you look like you really need it. Cāmon, donāt you want to eat something homemade and still hot after a bad day at work?ā You gave him your best smile, and it was obvious in his eyes that he already agreed to your idea.Ā
āOkay, we can do that. Honestly, I feel like Iām able to eat a fucking elephant.āĀ
You both shared a laugh before you almost dragged him into your house and closed the door. Only at that moment did you realize that even though you gave Bucky a lot of food, he had never been at your place before. For some reason, you felt really excited to feed him and spend some time together.Ā
āSit here while Iām heating the food.ā Bucky obediently took a seat, looking with a soft smile at how you were moving around in your little kitchen.
You looked so domestic and soft in the warm yellow lights of the room in the cute pink cotton dress with little flowers all over it. The concentration was written all over your face as you tried to perfectly set plates and cutlery on the table and then put steaming lasagna on it.
āFuck, it smells so good; youāre going to kill me, doll.ā He wasnāt able to handle the amazing smell of food right in front of him.Ā
Your cheeks heated, and you waved your hand at him. āItās just lasagna, Buck; donāt be dramatic.ā You took a place near him, and you both started to eat your food.Ā
āIām not being dramatic. I already told you that, besides my ma, you have the best food in the world. I couldāve eaten it three times a day for the rest of my life and not gotten tired of it.ā He took another big bite, moaning as the taste filled his mouth.Ā
āYouāre making me blush. No one ever told me this.ā
āThatās my intention, doll. What, none of your boyfriends complemented your skills? Because I wouldāve put the ring on that finger way too fast.ā You looked at each other for a few seconds until you noticed that he had already finished his portion.Ā
āDo you want more?ā Ignoring his previous words, you stood up and took his plate to give him some extra food. The dress gently flew around your thighs, drawing Buckyās attention to your legs when you turned around. āAnyway, what happened at work? You mentioned your boss.ā
āUgh, Pierce is a fucking dipshit. Everyone there hates him, but he has too much money, so we canāt do anything. Me and Steve have really been on bad terms with him since the first day. He tries to tell us how to do our work, but his head is so far up in his ass that he canāt even listen to what we say.ā You returned to your place and put a plate in front of Bucky again. The frown took place on his face while he was talking about Pierce, so you put a hand on top of his without even thinking.Ā
āHe sounds like a total asshole. Iām sorry that you guys have to work for him.ā Buckyās face softened at your action. He flipped his hand so he could interlace your fingers, and you felt the warm feeling all over your body.Ā
You both definitely felt something, but you still stayed silent, enjoying the connection. It was obvious that you had feelings for each other. It was just hard to admit out loud, and, honestly, Bucky was so scared that you might think that he did all of this just to get into your pants. Which is not true. Well, he doesnāt mind, but itās not his only intention. He wants to treat you right and ask you out on a date.Ā
Back then, he felt so bold and offered to help you with the firewood with the hope of getting to know you better. Steve and Sam obviously knew about his new āworkā and teased him about it all day long. Unfortunately, he still didnāt find the right moment to ask you out. Those times when he came to you on Friday evenings and you were watching him work in your cute dresses or little pajamas were Buckyās favorites. You looked so soft, cozy, and domestic that he wished to see you like this every day.Ā
After the last piece of a chocolate muffin disappeared in Buckyās mouth and he let out a moan of satisfaction, he sat in your kitchen with closed eyes and a smile on his face.Ā
āIf I had to have a shitty day just to get this type of meal at the end of the day, Iām ready for it.ā
āBucky!ā You laughed at his dramatic words. āYou donāt have to have a bad day. I can feed you just because.āĀ
āWell, you said it yourself. Now you wonāt get rid of me.ā You both laughed. Then he suddenly got up and started to put plates in the sink. āYou sit, and Iāll wash the dishes.ā
āNo, Bucky, thatās not how it works!ā You got up and caught him by his bicep. Really hard and big bicep.Ā
āYes, it is. Youāre cooking, then Iām cleaning.ā He tried to get away from your grip to turn on the water, but you only held him stronger, now with both of your hands on his arms.Ā
āBucky.ā When he was standing so close to you, you realized your size and height difference, and it made you shiver. You turned your head up to look him in the eyes. āYou are my guest; you shouldnāt do this.ā
āMy mother taught me to always help women because they are not our maids.ā He stepped a little bit closer. āBut if youāre saying this only because you want me to leave, I can do that.ā
You were both looking at each other, and what you saw in his eyes made you weak in the knees.Ā
āNo, no, I donāt want you to leave.ā Your hands moved higher and fell on the sides of his neck. It was everything Bucky needed to finally kiss you.
Two large and rough hands took your face to bring your lips closer to Buckyās height. He was gentle yet so passionate, and he slowly moved his lips against yours. It was mind-blowing how desperately you wanted him to devour you, to destroy you. While your hands were discovering his broad chest and shoulders, you felt that your body was suddenly lifted in the air and then placed on the kitchen counter.
Now that Bucky didnāt have to lean over to your height, it was easier to kiss you properly. His tongue brushed over your lips to ask for entrance, which you happily gave. Bucky felt too addicted to your taste, your smell, and the feeling of your smaller body against him. It drove him crazy.
āI've wanted to do that since the day I looked at you.ā The hands on your hips tightened and moved you closer to his body. āYou look so pretty, God.ā Buckyās eyes are running all over your face, trying to memorize every little thing.
āBucky...ā You dragged him closer again, desperate to connect your lips. His large hands wandered all over your body, slightly pulling up your dress and then moving higher and cupping your breasts in them. āI thought you were tired.ā His large erection was obvious through his jeans, and you wanted to tease him.Ā
āIām never tired for you, doll.ā He mumbled against your lips. āI couldāve fucked you right on this table, but Iāll leave it for the next time. Whereās your bedroom?ā You didnāt miss the promise to fuck you again, and your body felt ecstatic just because of this thought.
āUp the stairs, second door from the right.āĀ
Bucky didnāt say a word before your world suddenly moved, and you ended up hanging from his shoulder. Your bare ass was probably right near his face, and you couldnāt help but blush.Ā
He stormed up the stairs with one hand on your thigh, as if your weight on his shoulder was nothing, and then walked into your main bedroom.Ā
You were thrown onto your bed, and Bucky stayed in front of you for a few seconds to remember this picture. Swollen lips, eyes full of need, a short dress that pulled up and showed a glimpsing of your white underwear. Yes, you were perfect, and only for him.Ā
āCome here, Buck.ā You raised your hands in his direction, and he obediently climbed on top of you with a smirk on his face.
He sat between your legs, moving his hands up and down the soft skin of your thighs.
āSuch a pretty doll for me, in this cute lilā dress, mm?ā His body was hovering over you, and when he found a zipper on the back of your dress, you ended up lying under him only in your white lingerie set in less than a minute.Ā
The pair of the most beautiful blue eyes devoured your naked body as soon as the piece of clothing was removed, and you had never seen a man look at you this way. Like you were the most beautiful, delicious, and priceless thing in the world. Buckyās hands gently touched your body from the shoulders to your legs, and you swear that you heard a moan while he was doing it.
āSweetheart.ā He mumbled and leaned to gently kiss the soft skin of your belly, moving with little kisses higher until he reached your lips. āYouāre killing me, you know that?āĀ
āShut up and kiss me, Barnes.ā It was impossible to think straight when his pretty face was right in front of you and his muscular body pushed you deeper into the mattress of your bed. He kissed you as you asked, but it didnāt last long before he pulled away with a grin on his face. You gently brushed his brown locks out of his face and tucked them behind his ears.
āSo bossy, dollface... Do I have to fuck this attitude out of you?ā
āMmm, undress, and weāll see what you are capable of.ā You shot back at him, and he just moved away with a smirk on his face.Ā
In a few seconds, a red henley was thrown somewhere on the floor, and you were face to face with a body that was probably made by the Greek gods. Muscles on muscles, with tanned skin and freckles from the work under the sun. Now you wanted to climb him like a fucking tree.
āLike what you see?ā His smirk became wider as he saw the look on your face: slightly parted lips and darkened eyes that were looking at him up and down. Bucky's hands went straight to the belt of his pants, and with the last movement, he was standing in your almost dark bedroom completely naked.Ā
You almost choked on your saliva when he pulled down his pants and boxers at the same time. He was thick and long, with an angry red head.Ā
āNo way this is gonna fit meā¦ā
āIt will, doll. Iāll take care of it. I bet this pretty little pussy will just suck me in.āĀ
It was over for you. You knew that. A handsome, respectful man with a perfect body and dirty mouth? Yes, he can do whatever he wants with you.
He returned to your bed, sitting in between your spread legs. He didnāt waste any more time when he reached behind your back and unbuttoned your bra. Bucky stood on his knees so perfectly that his dick landed on your covered pussy, and it made you both moan out loud.Ā
āLook at this, doll. āM gonna destroy her.ā His hips slightly moved, and because your panties were soaking wet, it was so smooth and perfect. āCan you imagine that? I will stretch you out so well that Iāll ruin any other men for you. Make youāand herā mine.ā He reached with one of his hands to your tits and squeezed your nipple between his fingers, while the other one was keeping your legs apart so he would be able to move his hips.Ā
You tried to close your legs by instinct. The tip of his cock again and again brushed right on your clit, and the slight pain from your nipple made you desperately moan and clench your bedsheets.
āAre you going to cum, pretty girl? Im not even inside of you, and youāre already a fucking mess.ā Buckyās rough voice was so sexy that it made you even wetter, if that was possible. He saw that you were close: by the way your breathing changed and how your eyes rolled back in your head. āC'mon, just let it go. Soak those panties even more.ā His movements on your most sensitive parts of the body didnāt stop, and it threw you over the edge.
You were squeezing around nothing, and the most inappropriate and dirty moan escaped your mouth. It was something that you'd never experienced before, and it was so intense that you needed some time to get over it.
āGood girl.ā Bucky grabbed your face and connected your lips, giving you another wet and sloppy kiss.Ā
Then, without hesitation, Buckyās hands took off the last piece of your clothing, leaving you completely naked for his hungry eyes. He stared at your body up and down for a few seconds and then closed his eyes to take a deep breath and calm himself down.Ā
āBucky, please, I need you so much.ā You almost cried, trying to grab him and put his body on top of yours, but Bucky was much larger than you, so it was almost impossible.
Bucky finally calmed down a little bit, and he interlaced his right hand with your left, pinning it above your head. His body softly landed on you, and skin-to-skin contact sent shivers down your spine. He was now looking you right in the eyes, and judging by his facial expressions, he either wanted to fuck you lifeless or cuddle and hold you closely.
āTell me if itās too much, okay?ā Buckyās soft side came out again, and you slightly nodded, giving him permission to continue. The little silver square appeared in his hand out of nowhere before he ripped the package with his teeth and put a condom on.Ā
You honestly tried to hold back the little bit of disappointment you felt when he decided to use protection. It was smart. You werenāt longtime partners, it was a question of your safety. But the tiny voice in your head told you that you wouldāve let him fuck you without it. To feel his perfect dā
Your thoughts were cut off with a deep chuckle. āYou look like youāre sad that I put on a condom, doll.ā You swear that his eyes darkened when you stayed silent. āIf you want it later, Iāll fuck you raw, ākay? But now neither of us can think straight.āĀ
āAre you a perfect man?ā You laughed.
āI donāt know, letās find out.ā Your smile faded as soon as you felt the head of his dick at your entrance.
You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, so when Bucky started teasing you again, rubbing you up and down to cover himself in your slick, you nearly lost it.Ā
āBucky, please.ā You whine, grabbing the side of his torso with your free hand. āDonāt tease me, please, I canātāāĀ
Your words died as Bucky finally pushed inside of you. Your head fell deeper into your soft bed, and Buckyās body tensed on top of you, trying to hold back a deep moan.Ā
It was overwhelming. He stretched you out so deliciously that you felt pain and inexplicable pleasure. No one ever made you feel this wayālike you were on cloud nine and the man on top of you didnāt even actually fuck you yet.Ā
āYouāre squeezing me so hard that I might cum like a teenagerāfuck!ā He groaned, squeezing your hand harder. āRelax, baby, Iāll take care of you.ā
You tried to relax as much as you could with a dick buried deep inside of you, and Bucky was finally able to move.
Well, if it felt good earlier, then the first movement of his hips probably sent you right to heaven. Bucky cupped your face with his left hand, locking your eyes together, when he started thrusting at a slow pace.Ā
āSo pretty for me, doll. You feel my cock in your stomach, huh?ā Buckyās lips almost touched yours when he talked, but it felt like he was too far away from you. āGood girl, take me so well. Knew that this pussy would be my death.āĀ
āMore... harder, please, fuck me harder.ā You spoke in between moans, gazing intently at Bucky's pretty face.
He started fucking you harder. Your bed was slamming your wall, but it didnāt bother you as much as the fact that he was hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You were a fucking whining mess under him, with a slightly open mouth and a drunk-looking face.
āSuck it like a good girl you are.ā His thumb slipped into your mouth, and you moaned, doing as he said. āYour pussy is already sucking the shit out of me. Are you going to cum, baby? Going to make a mess on my cock while I fuck you? Imagine if I fucked you raw and filled you up with my load. I bet youād like that.ā The finger went deeper into your mouth, making you gag. You nodded your head as much as you could at Buckyās words because you were already ready to cum.
āGive it to me, baby.ā Bucky growled, sucking on your neck. His hips slammed into yours, making the nastiest noise, but it turned you on even more. A finger slipped out of your mouth, and Buckyās face was in front of you again. āFuuuck, Iām gonna cum.ā
āM-m, B-bucky! Don't stop, plā ahhh!ā The wave of the best orgasm of your fucking life washed over you. You swear the stars started dancing behind your closed eyes as you endlessly squeezed Buckyās cock and his body.
The way you were moaning, how your eyes rolled back, and how your whole body trembled pushed Bucky over the edge. A few last movements in your soaking wet pussy and he came, feeling almost lifeless, as if you had sucked the whole energy out of him.
He let go of your hand, which this whole time he held above your head, and cupped your face with both of his hands, kissing away the tears you didnāt even notice.
āY/N? Baby? Are you okay?ā He whispered and moved your head a little bit so your eyes were directed at him. You looked like you were high or really drunk, but he couldnāt argue with the fact that you were the prettiest woman on earth.
āIā itās like I don't feel my body anymore.ā You lazily mumbled and closed your eyes. āNo one ever fucked me like this.āĀ
āGlad to hear that, doll.ā Bucky leaned closer and kissed your soft lips with more delicacy and tenderness. āDo you need anything? Food, water, bath?ā
āNoā¦ Can you just hug me and stay here for the night?ā You asked, now afraid that he would leave since he got what he wanted.
āSure, just let me get rid of this thing, and Iāll still get you some water.ā He kissed you on the forehead before carefully untangling his body from yours. You hissed at the new empty and a little bit aching feeling inside of you. āIām sorry, baby.āĀ
Bucky threw a condom in the basket under your table and, putting on only his boxers, came down to the kitchen to get you a bottle of water. But when he came back, he saw that you had already fallen asleep.
You looked so cuteāstill naked, with a peaceful expression on your face, laying in the middle of your messy bed. He thought about whether he should disturb your sleep or not, but you asked him to stay, right? Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, but then came closer to you, placed the bottle on the nightstand, and carefully scooped you into his hands, pushing away the covers. He put you back down, and then you opened your eyes.Ā
āCāmereā¦ā You mumbled, still sleepy, and grabbed his hand.
Bucky quietly chuckled and got under the cover, hugging you from the back. You happily sighed before drifting back to sleep. Bucky kissed you in the hair, hugged you harder, and fell to sleep with you in his arms.
You woke up a little bit disoriented, trying to figure out what happened last night.Ā
The bed beside you was empty, but the aching feeling between your legs proved that it wasnāt a dream. You, in fact, fucked your hot lumberjack neighbor. But where did he go?
You found some random oversized t-shirt and walked down the stairs. Everything was silent; your kitchen was empty but crystal clean. Did Bucky just leave?Ā
Wait a minute.Ā
Yesterday there was a mess from your cooking and dinner with Bucky.
Now the room was almost shining.Ā
You looked around in confusion until you noticed a piece of paper on the table.Ā
All of your bad thoughts disappeared as soon as you read it, and you felt butterflies go crazy in your stomach.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky fanfic#bucky x reader#bucky x you#james bucky barnes#marvel smut#james buchanan barnes#marvel#marvel x reader#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#james bucky buchanan barnes#lumberjack! bucky barnes
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Why is it so hard to date women??? I am one too. This shouldn't be so hard. And yet it really is.
I can get a man without even wanting to or meaning to (it happened unintentionally every time that way when I still dated men now I realized looking back on it). I could do that again but I never really enjoyed it before so I doubt I would like it any better now.
You're supposed to actually enjoy dating, right?
It's not supposed to be like pulling teeth, RIGHT??? :')
(I am trying to stay positive but WOW, this sucks OMG!)
#It's obvious that I have no fucking clue what I'm doing still#I think I am looking in the literal WORST places#the new app I tried for friends/dating isn't specifically gay but it has way too many men on it literally it's mostly men somehow#I'm sorry boys but I'm not interested#But I feel like I can't talk to girls on there because I don't want them to think I'm some creep :/ :/ :/#my profile says bisexual currently but I'm not sure that's accurate#I IDed as bi for half my life but I'm still not sure if that's true#I'm thinking of quitting that app too#I got cat fished on the last gay app I tried and it happened multiple times which was frustrating!!! :/#maybe this is all BAD Karma coming back to bite me#maybe I should reactivate my account on her any way and get catfished some more *shrug* maybe it's what I deserve#tbh I'm jealous of how easily other people seem to find each other I'll admit that#I've been watching too much of the Catfish TV show lately too which does not help either :(#I'm pissed at myself for wasting college now- I was even part of the LGBT student club at both my schools ughh#and though I liked some of the other girls in the clubs I never did anything because most of them were taken already (of course)#I have this weird feeling that I missed the train for someone on here but maybe I'm imagining it??? 0-o#I couldn't be sure and do not want to be annoying about it in case I misread some signals a while ago...?#it's okay I'm not hot and still don't know if I'm gay or bi at my age (I'm really 30 but probably don't seem it)#you can do way better than me girl is what I'm saying basically#dating apps are just...terrible? awful? the worst?#a free unhinged(?) rant for all my single friends :)#if you know you definitely know#though I hope you don't because... yikes I'm sorry if you know#any body got any other app ideas??? I tried lex taimi and her already and I won't do tindr because that's too superficial/all about hook up#wlw dating#I've known I've liked women since I was 16 but never tried dating them until now so sorry if this is obvious or you've heard it before
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Writing Female Fighters
The Heroine Must. Fight.
Today's female protagonists cannot sit on the side crying and breaking down or whimpering as the battle ensues.
Readers want to see autonomous female fighters who can at least defense themselves with courage and adequate skill.
Not all women are the same, but the heroine should get her butt moving.
Less Muscle, but More Flexibilty
The average woman is shorter than the average man, which makes it more difficult to wield a long sword or slam something down on the opponent's head.
A woman who works out can plausibly be stronger than a male couch potato, but if her male counterpart works out as much as her, the man is going to be much stronger.
On the other hand, the center of gravity in a woman's body is lower than a man's which makes it harder to knock her off her feet.
She is also more flexible, which gives her advantage in grappling fights, making use of complex landscapes, or deflecting blows.
A woman's small size can also be an advantage if her opponent has only ever trained with male opponents. His big hands might not get a good grip on her slender limbs.
In historical fiction, giving your heroine good muscule build can be tricky as exercise was generally considered harmful for women, with some exceptions for horseriding any maybe archery at best.
In such cases, make your heroine an accomplished dancer or an eager horsewoman, or the only girl whose father considered to be son replacement and thus, gave her a boy's education.
Women of lower classes who couldn't afford to be fashionably weak will be plausibly stronger, perhaps even more than an idle gentleman.
More Room for Negotiation, but Prolonged Ruthlessness
In the Suspense part of your fight scene, females are more likely to negotiate and talk more, strategically trying to descalate the situation rather than attacking on a momentary impulse.
Generally, women are less aggressive than men and remain level-headed longer than her male counterparts, opting for non-violent methods first before using force.
Exceptions apply if she is trying to protect her children (or someone who she cares for as a child). Mothers can be tigresses.
A female pre-fight conversation may be: "If you had not done so-and-so and betrayed me with so-and-so, we could have been good friends as I thought we would be." "What do you mean? It was in fact you who brought bad blood between us. I can still hear you laughing with so-and-so, taunting me, purposefully making me look bad -" "But that was so long ago! If you want me to say sorry about something so insignificant, you should have just said so: I'm sorry. There. Satisfied?" "Ha! I can't believe you say that so easily. You still don't get it, do you?" "Who's being petty and unreasonable now?"
A male pre-fight conversation will be shorter: "Who's the coward now?" "You're wrong." "Prove it." "Bastard."
Compared to men, it will take more time for a woman's fight hormones (adrenaline, neurotransmitters and such) to kick in.
She would be slower to engage initially, throwing reluctant punches and thinking, but she'll grow more and more violent and lose all rational thought and compassion, and once she's in full flow, may not stop even when her opponent begs for mercy.
When writing a male-female duo, you can show him going for the first blow while she observes and strategizes first. When he's past his peak and panting, she is flying about left and right. Later when the tension wears off and she becomes wobbly and teary, she can rely on him to have recovered faster and distract other teammates so that they won't see her cry.
Plausible Skills and Backstory
In many cultures and time periods, the general attitude of society towards girls is that they have no place in fist fights or martial arts, unlike how it is encouraged for boys of the same age. So if your heroine has physical prowess that surpasses typical 'fitness' or is hidden, build a backstory of how she's obtained it.
For modern heroines, it can be as simple as signing her up for martial arts classes or yearly membership at the local gym. For historical fiction or girls with strict 'feminine' upbringing, it can be trickier.
It can be related to profession: maybe she was an erotic wrestler, catfighter, or an assasin who thought killing was more honorable than prostitution. They may have dabbles with it for a short time and is now trying to hide their past from their respectable employer or fiance.
It can be family backstory: Perhaps her mother was an accomplished martial artist or she had to fend for younger siblings on the streets from an early age. Maybe she was the only girl in a family of many boys who refused to be the punching bag.
Inexperienced Female Fighters
A woman with no fighting experience or training is likely to resort to one of these on instinct:
Try to talk herself out of the situation, attempting to persuade or negotiate for her life.
Grab something to use as a weapon. This instinct seems to be stronger for women than it is in men.
Use her hands to try and break free, or kick (often wth little success)
Pull hair
Scratch.
In a serious fight, pulling hair and scratching won't be helpful, except when the police come to find her body, they would find the opponent's DNA under her fingernails.
Plausible Weapons and Clothing
All of the above applies to scenes where both parties have no weapons, or has the bare minimum (like one dagger each).
Weapons are equalizers, and if your heroine is pointing a gun at her opponent she will definitely NOT hesitate to be the one to shoot first.
When giving your female character a weapon, choose one she can plausibly use. It would take an unusually brawny woman to wield a great medieval longsword.
For historical fiction, give your heroine something she'll plausibly own. Swords and firearm were a no-go for women, but archery was borderline acceptable.
For clothing starters, you definitely CAN NOT dress her in a tight miniskirt and chainmail bra with long, flowy hair and multiple silver chockers. Unless she's trying to seduce her way into her opponent's bedroom, and he has a chainmail bra fetish.
A practical heroine will have her thighs covered, preferably with leather but at least with fabric, since a lot of blood flows through the thighs and a slash would be critical.
She'll keep her hair tied, tucked under a helmet, braided back, etc. so that it won't impede her vision.
She'll support her breasts with a strong sport bra. In a historical eprioid, she'll either tie her breasts tight with a fabric bandage or support them with some kind of leather corset.
Invent a female version of male fighter clothing of the time you are writing about if it doesn't exist.
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#writing#writers on tumblr#helping writers#creative writing#let's write#poets and writers#writeblr#writers and poets#resources for writers#creative writers#fight scene#female fighter#female warrior#writer on tumblr#writer community#writer stuff#writer things#writer problems#writing process#writing prompt#writing inspiration#writing advice#writing ideas#writing community#on writing#writer#writerscommunity
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A headcanon of Percy Jackson x reader daughter of Zeus, where he has been in love since the first day he saw her, and he had also recently arrived at the camp, please
Ė ā SHE IS LIKE THUNDER
parings: percy jackson x zeus!reader
an:I know I disappeared, forgive me š¤§, but picture me writing this at 3 AM, dying of sleepiness after watching the last episode of PJO, AND ANNIE USED THE NICKNAME š THIS EPISODE IS STILL TOO MUCH FOR ME TO PROCESS!!!!
summary: the one where you're a daughter of zeus, exploring your relationship with percy.
( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )
You and Percy crossed paths during one of your training sessions. Luke was giving Percy a tour of the camp, and when Percy laid eyes on you, he halted abruptly, as if struck by lightning. For some inexplicable reason, he felt an urgent need to know who you were, as if the gods themselves demanded it.
Percy's eyes widened as he observed you from across the training grounds. "Who's that?" he asked, pointing a finger in your direction. Luke suppressed a chuckle, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Her? Oh, that's Y/N, daughter of Zeus." Percy squinted, trying to decipher your actions, as you accidentally summoned a small lightning bolt that fizzled out near your feet. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Does that happen often?" Luke grinned. "Only when she's particularly excited, which, by the way, is most of the time. You should see her during thunderstorms!" Percy blinked, watching as you waved sheepishly, causing another faint spark to crackle in the air.
You and Percy found common ground in venting about the gods upon his arrival.
"Hey, little thunder, how's it going?" Percy grinned. "Don't call me that," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. "I'm good too, thanks for asking, Lightning Rod," Percy joked, emphasizing his newfound nickname for you.
Attempts at using your powers together proved futile, as water and electricity didn't exactly make for a harmonious combination.
According to Percy, Cabin 3 was way too big for just him, and assuming you felt the same way about Cabin 1, he started a tradition. At 12:00, he'd show up at your cabin, asking to share it, turning into a routine of hosting pajama parties in each other's cabins.
After you discovered that your half-sister, Thalia, had been turned into a pine tree to save her, Percy couldn't resist teasing you about it.
"Do you think your dad would turn you into, what, a fountain? Or maybe a cherry blossom tree would suit you?" Percy grinned, enjoying the opportunity to rib you. "Jackson, shut up," you retorted, rolling your eyes at his antics. Later, when Grover and Annabeth intervened, trying to keep you two from frying each other, Percy couldn't resist a parting shot. He had soaked you with water from a nearby forest stream during the mission, leaving you drenched and fueling your desire to electrocute him. "Next time you want to electrocute Percy, make sure I'm not around," Annabeth teased as they separated you, noticing your soaked state. Grover, being the peacekeeper, started singing the song of friendship, encouraging both of you to hug it out and apologize. Percy, however, observed that you were shivering from the cold as you walked. Realizing this, he handed you his jacket, concerned. "You'll catch a cold if you stay wet like this," he said, offering you warmth amidst the chilly aftermath of your water-based altercation.
Since neither you nor Percy admit to having feelings for each other, you find yourselves in constant teasing and banter.
During a mission, you two start a squabble because you want to lead everything, and he just wants to do his thing or isn't paying attention to what you're saying. Grover and Annabeth exchange glances, seeking a way to mediate.
It takes a long time before you muster the courage to admit you have feelings for the son of Poseidon. You decide to confess first because, knowing Percy, it would take ages if you waited for him.
"Percy, I need to talk in case we don't get out of here." "Spark Plug, we're getting out of here; trust me." "I like you, Seaweed Brain." He stands there in shock, mouth hanging open, unable to believe that you like him back.
After Percy managed to confess that he also liked you, you enjoyed teasing him about his stunned reaction. But deep down, you were terrified that he might have said he didn't like you back.
Percy becomes incredibly protective of you.
"Touch her, and you'll be dead."
You love stormy days and spend hours on the beach with Percy because he can control the water, ensuring you both stay dry.
"Isn't it beautiful?" "What, little storm?" You pause, gazing out at the tumultuous sea, the waves crashing against the shore. "It's like the ocean is in harmony with this storm. It's as if they understand each other, finding peace in the chaos." "Maybe," Percy finally responds, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Maybe storms and the sea have a way of finding peace in chaos because they understand that even in the wildest moments, there's a certain kind of order."
You appreciate the profound simplicity of his words, and in that moment, he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. For the first time in a long while, you feel at home
#percy jackson x you#percy jackson x y/n#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson imagine#percy jackson oneshot#percy jackson fanfiction#percy jackson fic#percy jackson x oc#zeus reader#pjo fanfic#pjo series#pjo x reader#pjo x you#walker scobell#luke castellan x y/n#luke castellan x you#percy jackson fluff#percy jackson headcanon
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side to side [nicholas chavez x !fem!reader]
about: nicholas finds himself becoming infatuated with the girl he's been training and helping workout after months of hanging out and exercising together and decides to act on his feelings and thoughts.
warnings: p in v, language, oral sex (male receiving), public sex, rough sex, degrading, face fucking, use of daddy, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of porn, nicholas having an extremely high sperm count, kinda bdsm (he's hurting her on purpose and making sure shes in pain) anal fingering, peeping tom type behavior, mentions of self pleasuring, size kink, praise kink and y/n can be any race/ethnicity (theres nothing in this story that ties her down to one thing)
(btw this is loosely inspired by side to side by ariana grande)
"do you think you could handle a few more inches?" nicholas asked as you squatted down.
"uhh yeah maybe like 3-4 but i don't know." you replied bending you knees a few more inches as you worked your thigh muscles.
"oh your doing so well y/n, you hardly even need me at this point" he chuckled quietly to you, you turned your head slightly to look back at him seeing his perfectly white smile and his gaze set on your legs.
a slight groan left your lips on your last rep causing your eyes to shut and nicholas' hands to fly to your hips to help support you, slowly his hands pushed you up.
"slower y/n... slower. you don't wanna hurt yourself in a warm up now do you?" embarrassed you smiled and looked away "oh my gosh i'm fine!" you looked up at him and said.
"you know what... you should work your core today. because it seems like every time we get together all you end up doing is glutes and i'm stuck begging you to work something else!" he remarked in a friendly tone
you nodded and followed him as he walked over to the weights rack. "today i want you to start off with a 20." you rolled your eyes in annoyance "i wanna do something easier." he smiled and handed you a 20 instead of your usual 10.
you sat on the mats that'd been set out and put your knees up. you began doing your usual set of russian twists. slightly moaning between each twist as you feel your ab muscles tighten and burn.
in a hushed tone you heard him let out a light laugh, you looked up at him as he laughed and asked him what was so funny.
"you just kinda sound like someone i used to be obsessed with" he said with a smile.
you moaned a little as you twisted slightly faster. "who? tell me" your face twisting and eyes shutting tightly.
"some pornstar i used to watch and i- nevermind it's kind of embarrassing to talk about." he awkwardly stated as he fiddled with some cleaner and a rag.
your face dropped in confusion. "not what i expected but okay..." you said. he chuckled and looked away.
in all the time he's been your personal trainer he's never gotten so... personal. you felt as if you should say something so that he didn't feel so awkward and embarrassed about it all.
"well when i get bored or can't sleep i use my vibrator... its pink."
he looked down at you and smiled before quickly clearing his throat and looking back away from you.
he obviously didn't feel anymore comfortable after you shared that. you could tell from the way he slightly held his breath anytime you made that moaning sound again.
a noticeable silence filled the space between you as you finished up your set placed the weights on the ground and stood up. he handed you the cleaner and rag to wipe off your weights. "heh, thanks, i was just gonna ask... but you... gave it to me... first" you awkwardly replied in a hushed tone.
he sighed loudly before stating "you know, you should just do glutes again today... right?" nicholas chuckled in an embarrassed fashion. "oh of course," you smiled "that's much easier than core for me." you agreed.
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after you finished your workout you were completely parched and famished, which you made clear to nicholas throughout the entire day. you toweled off and picked up your weights which you took the weights rack after toweling off.
once you'd finished you walked back to the locker room and showered. since no one else was in the locked room you had no issues being fully nude out in the open. then the door swung open, your hand flew to your towel to cover up your breasts and you backed into a corner trying to hide from whoever just came in. until they spoke you had no idea who it was.
loud footsteps inched closer and closer to your hiding spot before finally, "uhh y/n you left your water bottle on the leg press i thought i'd- whoa where are your clothes?" he said once he'd seen you.
"holy shit nicholas, what if this whole room was filled with naked ladies!" you annoyingly remarked to him. "then i guess i'd have a much harder time keeping my eyes on just you... right?" he giggled back. "and besides, it's 10pm on a saturday. no ones fucking here except teenage boys in pajamas and lonely old men going through a mid life crisis."
you rolled your eyes in response. "i've worked with people here for years. you think i don't understand how this shit works... c'mon baby."
"i thought i'd give it back because you're so thirsty. but it appears theres nothing in here anymore. right?" you shook your head and snatched the bottle out of his hands.
nicholas turned his back and walked toward the bench across from you. once he sat he began to stare at the parts of your body the towel hadn't covered, which was pretty much everywhere since you'd done such a shoddy job covering as much as you needed to, due to the unusual positioning of the towel on your tits. "stop staring freak..." you whispered to yourself while staring back at him.
"i can't help it you're just so fucking sexy... sorry if that was out of line. but what i want to say is 10 times worse." he whispered while getting up and inching closer to you. "then say it, i can handle it... i'm a big girl." you snarkily replied while looking up at him.
by the time he'd started his next sentence he'd been towering over you and lightly stroking your arm. "i've jerked off to the thought of this moment more times than i've ever watched that internet bitch and wished it was you." your breath hitched and heart beat quickened at his sexually vulgar words.
you began backing up until your back hit the wall. "we're in a gym for fucks sake." he chuckled
"what... you scared to get caught, bitch?" he whispered. his intense eyes stared at yours, it felt like a knife to the heart. his piercing gaze left you feeling extremely horny. a feeling you'd never felt for nicholas... ever!
"no i'm not scared... it's just not the right place." you said trying to push further into the wall, practically praying a hole opened up and swallowed you.
"so then you must be a virgin... a really horny virgin. you ever play with your pussy and think of me?" he said while raising his hand up and over your head so
"no" you quickly replied.
"well that's okay, because by tomorrow you're gonna want to." he whispered in your ear.
he ripped the towel you closely held to your chest and threw it behind him onto the ground. your breasts lightly jumped with his quick movement. and your erect nipples stuck up into the air as the cool air hit them.
he brought his thick long pointer finger up to your temple and slowly rubbed it.
the water droplets on your forehead dripped down onto the floor as he lightly stroked your face. "how about this. you suck my cock until i cum in your mouth. then i make you cum so hard you can't feel your legs."
you slowly nodded, his hand traveled from your cheek to the back of your head. he slowly scratched the back of your head as he pushed you down onto your knees. his gray sweatpants were beginning to bulge out of place with his erection. you stared at his slowly growing member in his pants.
"fuck are you waiting for, go ahead and do it already." you pulled down his waistband and calvin klein underwear in one swift movement, placing it under his balls and watching as his cock bounced out and hit just above his belly button.
slowly you placed your hand on the base of his cock. stroking up and down his shaft, causing him to slowly exhale as your small hand rubbed up and down his length. he smiled as you licked the thick and prominent veins on his dick and practically made out with his pink and leaky tip.
his big hand rubbed the back of your head and pushed you down onto his cock, making you gag with the movement. but shortly he allowed you to slowly suck up and down. you teased him as you lightly sucked and hardly moved, making him groan and whimper.
then his hand came grasping your head as hard as possible before he pushed your head up and down his length at a medium tempo. causing him to groan even louder and grip even harder. his thick cock shoved into your throat at once made you choke and breathe heavy. your spit trickled down your chin and onto the brown tile floor of the locker room.
he pulled his length out from your mouth and placed it on your check, allowing you to feel the throbbing on your skin.
a string of saliva from your mouth to the tip of his cock stayed put as he slapped his cock all over your left cheek, leaving them wet from your saliva and his pre-cum.
you looked at his cock, leaky, red, throbbing, and huge where the only things in your mind at the moment. his once light pink tip was a flashy lighter red and his balls were hardened.
he placed his cock back into your mouth. this time both hands on either side of your head and he slowly began to thrust his cock back and forth into your mouth. your eyes lightly watered as you looked up at him.
he paused for a second before talking. "baby, i need you to take my cock. because i wanna cum so bad. can you do that f'me?" he asked. you fluttered your eyes as a response and he smiled down at you.
he began again. this time he pace quickened and his breathing got faster. his cock slammed into the back of your throat causing you to gag and whimper on it. your hands wandered to his lower back as support. as he fucked your throat harder and harder your choking became louder and louder which only made him hornier.
then he pulled his cock out of your mouth. "you nasty little slut, i wanna cum inside that pussy. not that mouth. get the fuck up on that bench so i can rail you how i want." he whispered to you, causing your pussy to become an even wetter mess than before.
you headed to his instruction and got on the bench, bending over it so that he could get a nice view of your ass. "nick, i don't think a bench is the right place, what if it hurts?" you questioned.
"then you fucking ignore it, you shouldn't be thinking about anything but my cock getting all the cream out of that cunt."
you nodded in response.
he hovered behind you and rubbed your ass. his hands spanked you and his nails dug into your soft skin. he groaned at the sight of you flinching under his heavy touch.
slowly, he placed his finger inside of your tight asshole. he pumped it in and out causing you to gasp at the new sensation and got your pussy even wetter. his long thick finger slightly stretched out your virgin asshole.
as your body left a white ring of cream around the base of his finger he groaned and praised you. "good fucking god baby, just how daddy likes it. nice and creamy... good girl."
he pulled his finger out of you and aligned his cock with your dripping cunt. he quickly slid his length into your pussy causing your eyes to cross and back to arch at the feeling.
"yes daddy, mhm fuck me." his length hit your g-spot perfectly, making you squirm around and groan. the way it curved just right made your legs shake and head spin.
when his cock hit deep inside of you it scratched your cervix and caused you to flinch as he thrusted quickly into you. the grip of your pussy around his cock made him whimper and gasp.
"you are such a bad girl baby, such a bad little slut, such a dirty little whore." his way of degrading you rocketed you closer and closer to your orgasm.
his fingernails gripped into your ass even harder and made you flinch, although he told you to ignore the pain, it was all too much. "nick... fuck that hurts, stop!" his nails slowly pulled out of the supple skin on your backside, leaving you relieved from the pain. then he spanked you.
"shut the fuck up you slut. if you can't take a little pain you can't take daddy's fucking cock... isn't that right? you can't take my cock? is it too big for this little virgin pussy?" he taunted.
"no daddy it's not." you disregarded the fact he continuously referred to you as a virgin, even though you hadn't been for years.
his cock felt like a punch in the cervix with how deep and fast he was going. "mhm daddy yes." you moaned out, even though it'd been causing you pain you couldn't help but moan; it felt so good.
his movements quickened and his hips hit against your causing your ass and his lower stomach to turn red from the friction, your breath hitched and his whimpers and groans grew louder and louder.
"fuck yea, im gonna cum inside of you baby... you want that? you wanna be a little cum slut?" although you wanted to answer you know it was a rhetorical question. no matter your answer he was still planning on ejaculating inside of your glistening, needy, wet, tight cunt.
his fingernails dug deeper causing you to squeal and convulse and you got closer to your long awaited orgasm.
then his cum came out in hot heavy spurts inside of your pussy, all over your back, and on the floors. the feeling of his warm seed filling you up forced you to cum just seconds later. the way your pussy contracted afterward pushed almost all of his hot sticky juices to come gushing out of you like a waterfall.
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he sat down next to you, out of breath and practically still at his climax as little beads of his semen dripped out of his tip causing him to whimper and sigh as it all came out.
"fuck this happens everytime. i cum so much that when i think im done i still gotta jerk some of it out." he joked, he brought his hand to his now half erect penis and stroked it a few times more before more spurts of cum flew out.
"shit i gotta clean that up..." he chuckled to himself
you smiled and sat down next to him. "that was kinda fun..." you whispered in his ear. "that was really fun." he counteracted. "then maybe we should do it again. but next time at my house." you suggested.
he smiled and nodded.
"well thanks nick, now i'm gonna be walking side to side." you joked to ease the tension that was still there.
"i'm sorry it just felt too good." he responded.
after a light silence you finally added. "well after we clean this up, i guess i'll see you in 3 days."
he chuckled and began cleaning up the mess you two had made.
also i was too lazy to proofread soooo mb :o
#nicholas alexander chavez#silly little tag#girly stuff#black women#idk#charlie mayhew smut#father charlie x reader#father charlie#father charlie mayhew#nicholas chavez#nicholas chavez smut#nicholas chavez x reader#sexxyasia#back from hiatus#fic#my fic#smut#cvm#thats my man#i love him so much#he looks so good#im obsessed#needthat
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I love Mel through and through but I cannot find it in myself to say that her and Jayce shouldāve continued romantically in season 2, or that meljayvik/melvik could ever work.
While she def did love Jayce in season 1 she did use him and viktor for political and financial gain. And her and viktor always hated each other (also viktors 100% a gay man)
Also I think even tho canonically labels and homophobia donāt exist in arcane it was def some form of heteronormativity that caused jaymel maybe likeā¦. Classism or smthā¦. Idk š
Mel and sevika is my favorite Mel ship because Mel should be with someone who wonāt fold as easily as Jayce š
imho jayce/mel was always a relationship of convenience with a very clear economical stipulation of success that is planted all throughout s1 act 2 (mel literally walking out on jayce when he doesnt present his new gizmos on progress day bc she had already promised them to investors. lol. later on pressuring him to do a whole round of black market shakehands under HER inherited opera house which is used as a meeting point between all the corrupt topside politicians. do i even need to expand.) and its only made worse when the phony-ruler training stuff comes in and both ambessa and mel start competing to see who can manipulate jayce into making weapons for the empire faster. I've always said that storyline was inconsistent as fuck and it does a lot of flip flopping near the end of s1 (do you want weapons or not? it changes every scene.) but at least people cant call me crazy anymore bc they WERE grooming jayce into being the pliant triggerfinger figurehead and once that fails all the attention is shifted onto caitlyn, who's just so ready to fall for the bait.
Like this is why jayce brings up the investment stuff during the breakup scene. this is why mel is fighting with caitlyn against her mother at the end of the series as a complete reversal of her goals. This was supposed to be a Thing. Character development for this bit in specific was RUSHED AS FUCK since they wanted to put all of the political tidbits as far away from the core plot as possible but its still there when you look. The ''empathetic'' political stringpulling ambessa does with cait is one she has taught her daughter, and she perpetuates with jayce, who is ofc upset at all the bullshit when he realizes what's happened in the end. And that it didn't just impact him, but also viktor and the cities at large!
clean break was actually the best thing they could have done with both of these characters and for a second I didn't believe they'd HAVE the balls to do it, but I'm happy to be proven wrong lmfao! if jayvikmel has no haters im dead. I'm not even getting into that whole thing but it bothers me *so deeply* to see viktor defanged and made into a fogbrained centrist yes-man when his entire arc is about the fatal consequences generations of these rich oligarch games have had on the low class people of the undercity. One of the only scenes of him raging in the entire show is him showing his disgust for mel's weapon proposition, and we just forget that happened? nuh uh. not on my watch
#arcane#jayce talis#caitlyn kiramman#mel medarda#ambessa medarda#viktor arcane#jayvik#jayce league of legends#viktor league of legends#jayce lol#viktor lol#vikjayce#league of legends#hexposts#meta tag
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Leaving: Christmas
Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader
Summary: Christmas with Menor
It's not often that Eli gets to have all three of you in the same place, not with you off travelling the world for your tennis, practically in a different country every month.
But the winter months is one that she can almost guarantee you'll be home for.
You finish your tennis season on a high, lifting the trophy at the WTA Finals before you spend a few more weeks in Poland with your training team coming up with a rough schedule of what you want to compete in next year.
But you're home now which means that Eli has all three of her daughters in the same country. Which also means mandatory days out together on the run up to Christmas.
It's easier to get you sorted than Alexia - still playing football every week - and Alba, still teaching as the schools haven't gone on holiday yet.
You're back in your childhood bedroom and seem to delight in sleeping the day away and only getting up around two in the afternoon to migrate from your bed to the sofa.
Occasionally, you roll out of bed early in the morning to take part in some sponsorship commitments.
Your tennis season has been nothing short of extraordinary this year and you've somehow become Nike Tennis' golden girl along the way with all of your tennis gear bar your racket being supplied by them.
Like how now, you and Alexia are wearing the exact same Nike shoes as you all walk through the Christmas market together.
"Mami!" You complain over the noise of the crowd," Mami, make them stop!"
Somewhere between the stall making handmade Santas and the stall with fresh paella, Alexia has gotten you into a headlock and is none too kindly ruffling your hair while Alba pinches your cheek between two fingers.
"She started it!" Alexia yells back.
"Alexia," Eli says with a sigh," You are thirty years old-"
"Yeah, Alexia!" You butt in," You're old."
"No, y/n, that's not what I meant," Eli tries to correct you but she's interrupted yet again.
"Yeah, older than you!" Alexia says," Which means you're meant to do what I say! Listen to your elders!"
"Oh? So you're elderly now? Maybe you should sit down, Ale, and rest your old back!"
You shove her off of you, stamping on her foot before taking off down the street.
"Hey! Get back here!" Alexia yells, taking off after you as she forces her way through the crowd.
Alba shakes her head in mock disapproval. "You know, Mami-"
"No, Alba," Eli says," I will not only buy you stuff tonight. Stop trying to get your sisters in trouble."
Alba shrugs. "It was worth a shot."
By the time Eli and Alba catch up, you and Alexia have forgotten whatever argument you've been having in favour of nosing around some of the stalls together.
Somehow in the time it's taken for Eli and Alba to return, you've both gotten cups of hot chocolate with caramel sauce and marshmallows along with little Christmas ornaments to hang on the tree.
"Must you two spend so much money?" Alba complains as she points at the little paper bags that Eli hadn't even noticed.
"It's not our fault that we've got a lot of it saved up."
Alba rolls her eyes. "It's exactly your fault! You don't have to keep winning so much in prize money."
You shrug. "It's not my fault I'm good at what I do."
"It's your fault you're not spending it on me," Alba says, tongue poking out of her mouth.
"If I buy you stuff, will I get sister points?"
Alba doesn't even have to think about it. "Yes."
You grin. "What do you want?"
Eli sighs. "Alba, please stop exploiting your little sister's goodwill."
"Yeah Alba," Alexia butts in, her own tongue sticking out," Don't exploit our little sister."
"You do it all the time!"
"I'm allowed to!"
"Girls," Eli says wearily," Please stop exploiting each other."
It's a weak request, one that Eli knows will be ignored but she has to at least attempt it, if only to look like a good mother in a crowd of strangers.
She easily tunes out the bickering of the three of you as she turns to the hot chocolate stall and buys herself a cup of it.
You and Alexia have good taste, she can give you that because it's delightfully creamy and Eli takes a long gulp before turning back around.
She's not surprised that the three of you have disappeared.
In all honesty, she's surprised you all stuck around for so long.
Usually, the three of you go off by yourselves the moment you step into a market. Eli's kind of been a bit antsy for you to all disappear. She does her best Christmas shopping when none of you are around.
"Alexia!" You complain," Hurry up! Alba's saving us a spot in line."
"But..." Alexia pretends to stumble, making herself seem suddenly weak and weary. "I...I don't know if I can go on! You know, with my old bones!"
"Alexia, you're so dramatic!"
She grins. "Yes."
"Come on!" You say," I want to go on the drop ride!"
"You always want to go on the drop ride!"
"Exactly," You say, pulling her more forcefully than before," Because it's tradition! Don't ruin tradition!"
Alexia laughs, finally having stopped digging her heels in to throw her arm over your shoulder.
"You know I'll never break tradition."
#woso x reader#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso
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di leon kennedy doing pushups ;) inspired by this (suggestive) art by @bunnivievve because i think artists have too much power. lowkey im typing this out so fast rn im tweaking i have exams tomorrow NOOOOOOOO-
<><><><>
your husband joined the police force. great. awesome. what a wonderful sight, at least it is for all the people watching on the outside. the picture perfect couple; a loving wife and a valiant husband to match.
what they never saw were the late nights up, studying the same textbook about a trillion times over, pretty much memorizing the goddamn contents of it before stumbling into your bed.
his body might be warm but that warmth always abandons you in what seems like a second, the snap of his fingers, because it's become a recurring instance that he's left early to train.
always making good impressions, that man. and you're proud of him, you have to be and you're not ashamed to show it. you've seen his growth, his courage that he displays, the hurt he has to suffer through all to keep the city safe. his city, where you are. his heart.
which is why it comes as a surprised when your husband, a man you've been married to for seven years, comes up to you with a bashful expression, eyes darting left and right, grazing all the corners of the world.
"do you... uhm... think... i'm strong?" you blink, dazed.
"why? what's wrong?"
"well, some of my higher ups had some concerns about... strength. they wanted me to 'strengthen my core'." he chuckles. "whatever that means."
"and you came to me for that," you drone.
"i've seen you do all those exercises around the house!" he protests. "can't you just teach me a few?"
"first of all, those are to help with cramps, and second, no." it seems like he's given up, but you know him well enough to know that that will never be the case.
"aw, c'mon, please?" he murmurs, taking your hand into his, caressing the bottom of your knuckles, rubbing soothing circles into your fingers. "just once?"
so you find yourself relenting to the man who always knows what to say to get you to crack. maybe next time you should be more demanding, hm?
needless to say, it's all made up for when you stretch out into the first pose, a simple sitting position with your legs extended fully, fingertips reaching the tips of your toes.
leon nods, and he gets the sitting part right. but when he tries to copy your movements, he hisses and leans back, groaning with the effort.
"what's wrong, officer kennedy?" you tease. "scared you'll break a hip bone?"
"quiet," he grumbles. "i'm just a little sore from yesterday."
"of course, of course, a very busy day running errands, such as picking up doughnuts, might i add?"
he scowls at you and tries again, and again, but every time he can't seem to cope with the fact your flexibility, even at your maturing age, is better than his, even with all his rigorous training.
"looks like you couldn't do it," you say smugly, smirking directly at him, angling your body to face him. "told you so."
"i think it's my turn now," he says, creeping towards you. and this time he seems to have the prowess of a panther, easily slotting himself into place above you.
"your turn for what?" you ask, somewhat suggestively. he grins.
"how 'bout i show you what i've learned?"
fuck, you'll never doubt him again, will you? his sweet, submissive girl, arching beneath him, one hand pressed on the floor near your head, keeping him supported. the other is clasped behind his back, in an ethereal tilt that has his chest hair hitting all the right angles of the dying sun.
your knee is thrown over his shoulder, and the position should be awkward, you think, yet it feels as natural as anything. he pistons his hips further into you, and he's been mumbling something in your ear since he started.
now that you can hear him better through his rough, sloppy pants, you hear a steady rhythm. "twenty-five... twenty-six..."
he's counting, you realize after your mind-shattering orgasm, whimpering underneath him as he finishes, muscles flexing in a manner you'd never thought to admire until you realize why.
he's counting the pushups, god, that's all he's been doing this whole time. and you'd be damned if you didn't send a silent prayer of thanks back to the academy, where they trained him to do this.
but you're sure this isn't how they expected him to apply it in real life. hey, what can you say? seems like you're finally enjoying your husband's career and all the perks it comes with.
"my pretty wife, going around doing all those stretches, driving me fucking crazy bending over like that," he rambles, lowering himself to shower your face in messy kisses before tilting his head back to the side with a hiss, lifting himself back up.
back up and back down, a slower pace with his upper body while his lower half rails into you, and all you can do is lie there, helpless to what he gives you, craving more yet somehow satiated at the same time.
"yeah, mmm, fuck, just like that-" he breaks off his counting to whisper sweet nothings in your ear for the second time that evening, pushing his spend back in while you grasp for purchase on his biceps, feeling the hardened muscle lurch back towards you as you dig your nails deep into his skin.
"needed that, didn't you?" you whisper breathlessly after he collapses onto the hard wooden floor next to you. his eyes shine with effort and pride, and after a low exhale, he immediately scoops you up.
he carries you back to the bedroom, where he lies you down onto the comforters, making sure you're comfortable before trailing up and down your neck with soft, carefully measured kisses once again.
"w-what're you doing?" you murmur, twitching under the overstimulation. leon's eyes have shifted to a deeper color, a darker lilt to his eyes when he reaches your gaze.
"i can do better than that, sweetheart."
"better?" you ask jokingly, because what could make him better? anything better than that is a menace to society, you decide.
he sighs, shaking his head before cupping your body with his hand again, rubbing your skin in such a doting gesture that you don't expect his next words.
"i said a hundred, sweetheart. i didn't even make it to fifty."
series masterlist
#leon kennedy#resident evil#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#resident evil 4#leon scott kennedy#leon kennedy fanfic#jj writes#the rookie au#leon resident evil#di leon#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader smut#death island leon kennedy#resident evil leon
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DPxDC Demon Children Are Multiplying
This idea is still stuck in my head, and I might even end up writing something out of it, but for now, I just thought of something equally really, really stupid and really, really funny.
What if I combine that idea with Al Ghul Twins. I don't know how. Maybe Talia was cautious about Ra's not wanting to keep two kids for a position of Heir, or maybe she staged Danny's death, or maybe something else entirely happened. But anyway, Danny is Damian's twin.
Then, Dani is the same age as Danny in this AU. And Dan is de-aged to be the same age as both of them.
Now behold an absolute train wreck of a situation where Bruce attends a Gala hosted by Vladimir Masters. Together with Damian, of course, and maybe other batkids are there too. They all part their ways to make their rounds or whatnot. And they all keep seeing Damian wherever they go. Just everywhere.
Dick is talking to someone, and Damian walks past him, not paying him any attention. Which is not surprising, but a little rude, and, wait, wasn't he wearing a red tie? When did he change it to green one?
Tim is just going on the top floor to greet a lady he recognizes from some other event, and Damian all but storms in the opposite direction, only letting Tim catch a glimpse of his face. But when Tim turns around, he is really confused: the person running down the stairs is clearly a girl, albeit she is wearing a suit. Her long hair is up in a complicated braid. Why did he even mistake her for Damian?
But the ultimate confusion happens when Bruce is talking to Vladimir Masters, and a very familiar voice calls, "Father". Because both he and Vladimir turn to face the boy and ask, "Yes?" at the same time.
Damian is standing there, looking between Bruce and Vlad. He looks a little off somehow, but before Bruce can figure out why, the boy blinks and focuses on Vlad.
"We've been looking for you," he tells the man, and, wait, when was Damian looking for Masters? Furthermore, who is we?
But then another child comes closer. And-
That's Damian.
That's two Damians.
Wait, no, none of them are Damians.
"What is it?" Vladimir raises an eyebrow, not paying too much attention to Bruce's blanched expression.
A third child comes towards them, and this one also looks like Damian, only this one is a girl.
"Template's duplicate is here," she says, and Vlad frowns, turning to the Damian lookalike in the middle.
"Have you had another incident that I don't know of?"
Whatever answer the boy wanted to give is cut off by a n o t h e r child who looks like- no, this is real Damian, thank God, Bruce had started to wonder if the champagne was spiked with hallucinogens.
"Father-" he stops in his tracks as the three other children turn to him, and the four of them just stare at each other for a long moment. Then the one in the middle takes a sharp breath in and stage-whispers:
"Quick, do the meme!"
And all three not-Damians start pointing at each other.
Bruce is going to have an aneurysm. Judging by Vladimir's face, he is also not far from one.
Just my ramblings under the cut
I think you all know what meme I'm talking about, but I'm still gonna add it
This is so fucking hilarious to me, I'm sorry, I just can't
Danny is not missing this opportunity of a lifetime, even though Vlad specifically asked all three of them not to cause a scene. And yes, they all call Vlad "father" just for the spite of it or for shits and giggles. I'm going with Bad Fentons idea here, although I'm not sure to which degree they are bad, but anyway, Vlad is their legal guardian, and he is redeemed.
Yes, Dick took a picture. Yes, it's already in the group chat. Yes, other batkids are going wild.
Damian is greatly confused because, first, he thought there was a clone of him at the gala, but apparently, there were three of them, and second, why are they pointing at each other? Should he join them? He is under the assumption his brother is dead (he's not exactly wrong on that account), or he doesn't even know he existed.
This is as far as I got now, feel free to add anything!
#danny phantom#dc x dp#dpxdc#batfam#batman#damian wayne#bruce wayne#danyal al ghul#al ghul twins#vlad masters#gala#dani phantom#dan phantom#there are four identical children#they end up pranking e v e r y o n e#vlad can tell them apart#but only because he can feel their ectosignatures#cork prompts
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can you write soft!eddie with shy!reader? their dynamic would be so sweet!!
Family Video is completely empty when you enter it for your first shift. You pick at the skin around your nails as you approach the counter. A man is behind it typing something into the computer, a curtain of curls covering his face as he does so.
You want to speak to him, to tell him that it's your first day, but you just stand there, waiting for him to notice you. It's partly because he seems busy and partly because talking to new people has always been something you've struggled with. You get too shy or nervous or and you hate it, but it's not exactly easy to get over.
After a few minutes, he finishes up what he's doing and turns towards the front of the store, his eyes widening once they lock on you, a shocked yelp coming from his mouth which he tries his best to cover up by clearing his throat.
"Jesus," he says as he reaches up to clutch his chest, his other hand pressing against the top of the counter. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Not long," you reply, your voice barely audible. "I-I'm y/n," you tell him. "I'm the new hire." You look so nervous and Eddie thinks it's adorable, that you're adorable in your Family Video vest. God, he just wants to shrink you down and put you in his pocket so he can protect you from anything and everything.
"Right," he nods. Steve told him that someone new was starting to day, but he didn't think you'd be so pretty. "If you'll follow me, I'll show you to the back room." He comes out from behind the counter and leads you to the breakroom that also doubles as the place where you clock in and has a set of lockers where you can put your belongings.
He goes to open the door just as it's pushed open, Steve, the one who interviewed you and helped you through your training coming through it. He's wearing a Family Video vest while the stranger is not.
"Y/n," he smiles as he pushes the other man out of the way by his face. "So I see you've met Eddie, who really needs to put his vest on," he glares at Eddie who sighs and heads over to the counter to begrudgingly put his vest on.
"Now, let's get you clocked in and then we'll go from there, alright?" He asks and you follow him into the breakroom where you clock in then put your purse into your assigned locker.
Once you're all set, you exit the breakroom and find Steve behind the counter where Eddie is also standing. Steve waves you over and you go behind the counter to meet them.
"So, Eddie is going to show you how to do the register while I work on some paper work in the office. If you have any questions, just ask Eddie, alright?" You nod and Steve heads to the office, leaving you alone with Eddie.
You both stand there awkwardly and Eddie notices that your hands are shaking and god, does he want to take them in his and press kisses to them, doing whatever he can t get rid of your nervousness.
"Here," he says, hesitantly taking a step closer to you. "Why don't we take some deep breaths, hm?" He breaths in and and you mimic him, holding it until he lets it out and you follow. He doesn't even know you and he's doing what he can to make you feel better.
"Are you ready to start or do you need more time?" He asks and you nod, your shaking lessening ever so slightly.
"I'm ready," you nod and he smiles, showing you his teeth before turning to the register in front of the both of you. He shows you how to work it, being nothing but gentle as he does so, being sure to check in every once in a while between customers.
He was hesitant about having a new coworker, but now that you're here, he doesn't want to let you go. He's even excited to work with you. And after Steve locks up at the end of the night, Eddie insists on walking you to your car.
He's got his hand on the small of your back and to his surprise, you let him, feeling secure with him behind you, protecting you in the dark of night in the abandoned parking lot.
You like him, maybe more than you should considering the fact that you just met him, but he's been so kind and patient with you unlike other coworkers you've had. A lot of them didn't like how softspoken and shy you were, but Eddie understands and besides, your voice being so quiet only gives him more of an excuse to lean closer to hear you.
"Are you working tomorrow?" He asks and you just nod as you put your key into the ignition and start it up.
"Good," he nods. "I'll see you then, y/n. Drive safe, okay?" You wave and Eddie turns on his heel, running into Steve as he does so.
"You're sweet on her, huh?" Steve asks in a teasing tone as Eddie takes his keys out of his pocket as he heads to his van. Steve follows, wanting hear what he already knows the answer to.
"What makes you say that?" Eddie asks even though he totally is and he knows it's obvious.
"Nothing, just that you've been so nice to her, and not that you're not nice usually, but this is different."
"Bye, Steve," Eddie waves his hand in the air as he gets to his van, wanting to put the conversation to an end. He doesn't want to hear what Steve has to say and he most certainly doesn't want him in his business. Steve may be his friend, but Eddie doesn't talk to him about this kind of stuff and he's not gonna start now. Whatever's going to happen between the two of you is your business and your business alone, no matter how much Steve tries to butt in.
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#soft!eddie#soft!eddie x reader#shy!reader#eddie munson x shy!reader#soft!eddie x shy!reader
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So like unsure if this is worth meentioning or not, but I drew what I think the yandere school and darling school will look like, can you take a wild guess which is which?
(Sorry if the image is shit, the drawing was TINY)
I thought you were going to say you drew some characters, not like, whole 3D buildings. Holy cow, as someone who's (unsuccessfully) made the occasional house in Sims 4: big flex. I'm jealous.
At the time I started writing this post, I did notice the tiny scribbles on the welcome signs. So while the answer has been found, I will give you my pre-discovery reasoning as to why both cases work (at least in my mind).
First picture immediately made me think of a cute, dreamy school made for Darlings. Everything is nice and welcoming, you've got a little pond and a particularly slithering path, made for cozy walks. They're not in a hurry. They take their time, admire the scenery, and potentially miss out on someone stalking them: the true nature of a Darling.
But then I thought, well, alternatively, this could be an old, prestigious building fit for Yandere School and its rich history. It's imposing, somber, away from the city bustle, with a big tower so them hawk ass students can spy on others and hone their skills. The stalking tower.
For the second drawing, my initial assumption was "this must be a prison structure to keep the maniacs away from civilians". The closed inner courtyard and fat gate to the right ensure that the yandere students won't escape to do some borderline criminal tomfoolery. Eat your sandwich inside, you damn crazy rascal. Every now and then the nurse will receive a student with small burns or superficially stabbed rump: a failed attempt at jumping the electric, barbed fence to chase after (Y/N) (the only one allowed outside during school time).
Then I started doubting my theory. The opposite may be just as true: the inner yard and gated community could keep the danger outside instead. In other words, making sure that the poor Darling students can enjoy their breaks without the dangers of being stalked. Or maybe it's where they train their potential future imprisonment. "It's a little uncomfortable", one student confesses, curled up in a cage in the designated capture area. "You must work on your flexibility", the teacher remarks, observant and thoughtful. "See, you're too stiff in your knees. It adds pressure. Mind you, this is a generously sized cage. Some yanderes might go even smaller, so you should be prepared."
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Training with Luke
pairing : luke castellan x fem!reader summary : the evolution of luke training you with a sword word count : 1.3k warnings : none
When you had agreed to Luke trying to teach you how to use a sword, this wasn't what you had been expecting at all. You'd warned him about your inability. Many before him had tried to teach you, but you had never managed to even swing the weapon properly. You had come to the conclusion that swords were your mortal enemy and that you would for sure die at the hand of one.
"Pshh, I don't believe that for one second, you just haven't found the right teacher, doll." Luke had scoffed one sunny afternoon, after you'd confided in him your inability to wield his favourite weapon. You rolled your eyes and pushed his shoulder. "Careful, I think your ego may be inflating." He chuckled, shaking his head. "No, no, but come on, I'm serious." Luke turned to you, angling his head to the side and giving you a soft smile. "Please let me try to teach you. I won't promise anything, you certainly won't be able to beat me, but maybe you can learn the basics without cutting a finger off." You pursed your lips as you thought. After weighing the pros and cons, you finally conceded with a sigh. "Fine, you and your modesty have convinced me." He rolled his eyes. You continued. "But you have to promise to go easy on me." "I promise, pretty girl."
And that is how you found yourself all geared up and very groggy on this Saturday morning. You wiped some of the sleep out of your eyes and yawned once again. The sun was just starting to rise, casting a golden glow on the arena you both stood in. Luke, who stood a few meters away from you, crossed his arms over his chest.
"Why are you so tired anyway?" "Because... I don't know if you remember, but there was a party last night and I-" "Oh, yes, I remember very well. You and Clarisse were on fire, dancing and singing, or should I say shrieking, and pouring everybody more drinks." He chuckled as he remembered the night before, which had only been a few hours ago. He'd been there, of course, he always came to parties, but he'd barely drank anything and had left pretty early. Unlike you. He had claimed he had to train in the morning, and you hadn't realised that had included you until this morning, when he'd come to wake you up. "How dare you. I'll have you know that some Apollo kids have asked me if I'm really sure that I am not one of them, considering my musical talents are extraordinary." You lied, feigning offence. "Yeah, right, that's likely." He snorted. "Anyway, enough chit-chat, get into stance."
You did as you were told, placing one foot ahead and the angling the other slightly outward. Luke circled you, eyes trained to your body. He gently tapped your shoulders, reminding you to keep them straight. You moved them immediately. "Good girl," he praised. You bit back a smile, your stomach flipping.
"Okay, now I'm going to come at you, okay? I'll go easy on you, just like you asked," he smirked. You rolled your eyes at his words, which you knew had an underlying meaning. "Just do it, Castellan." You readied yourself. He nodded once and bolted forward. Before you could register anything or react, you were on the ground with Luke's sword at your neck and a dull pain in your ass. You coughed as dust raised around you. "You know you're supposed to block, right?" he asked, lifting his sword and moving the blade out of your way. He held out his hand, chuckling. "You ass." You took his hand and let him help you up. You rubbed your bum with your free hand. "That was not going easy on me!" "You have to trust me, I really was. If I hadn't I would have done this." Before you could even reply, Luke had kicked your legs out from beneath you and lightly kneeled over your chest, making sure not to hurt you. "I hate you," you spat. "Get off me." You pushed at his legs and sat up. You knew your cheeks were red and you hated yourself for it. You pouted as you looked up at him.
"You see? It's no use. I'm no good with a sword and you can't change that." You folded your arms over your chest, very aware that you probably looked like a disgruntled child. "Darling, don't give up just yet." Luke gently pulled you up by the elbow and picked your sword up off the ground. He wiped some dirt off your cheek. "I'm sorry, that was mean. But don't give up yet! We can still try offence!" You huffed as you took your sword. "Fine. But stop calling me pet names." You didn't actually want him to stop, but if you wanted to take this seriously, he had to stop distracting you.
"If you manage to beat me, I'll stop," he bargained. "That's hardly fair," you sighed as you got into stance and raised your sword. He only shrugged. "C'mon, hit me with your best shot."
Over the weeks, you surprisingly got better at fighting with a sword. You stopped only using your customary bow and arrow and started carrying around a sword, much to the surprise of everyone who knew you. Training with Luke had not only made you better, it had also brought you two closer together. You'd been good friends since you'd arrived at camp, a few months after he did, but you had never spent as much time together as you did now. And such proximity made you question what you felt for him.
You met him one afternoon for training, feeling frustrated. Since you'd got up that morning, everything had gone awry. You'd got assigned shitty chores, had had to break up a fight between two new campers and in the midst had suffered a bird attack. Needless to say, you were looking forward to releasing some anger. But Luke was acting strange.
"Quit going easy on me," you grumbled as you helped him to his feet after knocking him to the ground for the third time. "I'm not going easy on you." He shook his head, frowning slightly. "Yes, you are. Stop it." You glared at him. "I'm not-" You lifted your sword and kicked him in the chest. He didn't even block and fell over once more. You'd never seen his camp shirt so covered in dirt.
"Stop bullshitting me, Castellan." You raised your sword and pointed the blade at his throat. "Okay, okay, fine, I'll stop," he grumbled. He rolled his eyes and pushed your blade away before lifting his hand for you to take. You slapped his hand with the flat of your blade and pointed your sword back at his neck. He frowned. "You're not getting away that easy." "Hey, doll, c'mon-" "No." He sighed and threw his head back, exposing his neck and the coloured beads hanging from it. Your eyes were drawn to his soft exposed skin but your focused again, clearing your throat. "Come on, get up. By yourself." "You asked for it."
He swung his legs across your ankles, making you yelp and fall to the ground. And before you could reach for your sword which had slipped out of your grasp, he had pinned you down by the wrists. "Am I going easy on ya now, darling?" You grimaced and squirmed but the hold he had on your wrists would not budge. And with him straddling your hips, you couldn't move your legs. You looked up at him and saw the coloured beads you knew so well swinging above your face. You swallowed. "No, you're not." "Are you happy?" "I'll be happy when you stop being such a smug ass, Castellan." His laughter was music to your ears.
#percy jackon and the olympians#luke castellan#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x you#luke castellan x y/n
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