#katrina says things

[art--harridan]

[Image description: A traditional drawing of Katrina from the film Vamp. It is boldly coloured with oil pastels, and is a close-up of her face, stretched out to bare her fangs. Both her mouth and her eyes are wide open, although one of her eyes is obscured in a dark shadow. She is deeply shadowed, although the contours of her face are lit up from below in a bright and unnatural neon green, which also makes her visible eye look uncanny. There is a pink rim light around the top of her head, and deeper reds behind her. The oil pastels create a grainy texture that is offset by the rigidity of the colour blocking of the different tones of her face.]

[sophisticatedswifts]

Here’s your reminder that 1) People don’t deserve hurricanes just because they live in a red state and 2) Many people don’t have the means to evacuate so don’t cast judgment on them for staying

[gu6chan]

man........ i start thinking about my black butler days and a new rp blog of this one comes calling back to me like the devil

[milkiestofteas]

[byrdsfly]

I think I might call in to work tonight.

Which is annoying because I joked I was going to Monday because of something going on tonight.

And I'm worried it'll be seen as the actual reason.

[mcmorare]

i do not talk enough about the incredibly negative impact of katrina's powers making her perfectly remember every moment she's experienced and every single emotion she's felt since she was about 17

[theinfinitedivides]

'start that music / in the name of the Lord' exactly what is Bollywood coming to

[delicatebluebirdruins]

being a multishipper is hell

[ohmywhatamarvoloustune]

TTPD probably traumatized me for life and took me right back to things I NEED to leave behind (when I ruined my own life) but it's a RIDE! WOOT! and or I'm not alone in a few ways with a few fears.

[sirfrogsworth]

Smartphone cameras are NOT getting worse. (See below for phone photography tips)

I've now seen 3 pro photographers reviewing the iPhone 16 and complaining the cameras are "worse" and blaming Apple for not including revolutionary new camera technology.

And I suppose this is partly Apple's fault. Their marketing and hype machine always goes overboard. But also, that's just how marketing works. Samsung has a "200 megapixel" sensor and Sony has a "Zeiss" lens. And I think it is unrealistic to expect smartphone companies to say "This product has entered the iterative phase and each new model will only be marginally improved over the last one."

Smartphones (from any brand) have become an appliance. You don't buy a new model of microwave every year. And you don't expect every new model of microwave to have new revolutionary technology. And that is pretty much the expectation you should have with most computer hardware from here on out.

And in some ways, that is a good thing. That means the design of the phone has pretty much been perfected and it will last you a long time if you take care of it. You will not be left behind and your phone will be able to handle any new software for most of its lifespan.

So, is Apple getting lazy or is there a reason their hardware is stagnating?

It seems that neither money nor marketing can change the laws of physics.

They cannot make transistors much smaller. Phones and computers are about as fast as current hardware designs can make them (unless there is a shocking scientific breakthrough). From here on out, heavy compute tasks that are beyond your phone or computer will be done in the cloud on giant computer clusters. Thankfully computers and phones seem to be plenty fast for the majority of tasks we ask of them.

I remember Katrina telling me her new computer didn't seem any faster. And I explained the computing tasks she does regularly were not really affected by the increased power and speed of her new computer. If something took 0.1 seconds before and now it takes 0.05 seconds, that is twice as fast. An increase in speed that looks fantastic in advertisements. But it is hard for our brains to perceive. She just didn't do anything on her computer that took it long enough for her to notice. But having a faster and more powerful computer/phone will increase its lifespan and resale value, so it is still prudent to get the best things you can afford at time of purchase.

And I'm afraid smartphone cameras are hitting their own hardware limitations. They can't make the sensors much larger to get better depth of field and low light performance. And cramming in more megapixels doesn't actually add much more detail, if any.

It's physics.

Again.

You cannot get any more performance out of a small plastic lens. Why do you think pro photographers haul around 10 pound lenses still?

There is a formula for detail that never seems to be explained in any camera marketing.

Here is the simplified version...

Detail = Sensor x Lens

Let's say 1 is perfection. You have a sensor that performs at 0.5 and a lens that performs at 0.2.

The total detail will be 0.1.

But in the new model you increase the performance of the sensor to 0.8. WOW! That's so close to 1!

The total detail will be... 0.16.

Now let's imagine we've discovered a magic, physics-defying tiny plastic lens that performs at 0.8 as well.

The total detail jumps to 0.64!

But we all get sucked into a wormhole because we violated the laws of the universe.

Even if you were to design a near perfect (perfect is impossible) sensor that scores 0.99.

Without that magic plastic lens... 0.198

This is why I put Samsung's "200 megapixel" sensors in quotes. Because when paired with the same tiny plastic lens, there isn't much improvement. And that's why a 12 megapixel DSLR from 10 years ago with a giant honking lens can still capture more detail.

Most of the quality from smartphone cameras comes from the computational software processing. Phones actually take many photos at once and combine them to get you a decent image.

While that is still improving a little bit each generation, those improvements are stagnating as well. Until image processing can do a better job of inventing more detail realistically, smartphones are going to have to obey the laws of physics.

So... why are photographers saying the iPhone cameras are worse?

First, the ultra wide angle lens looks softer in low light.

And if you zoom between 1x and 5x, the images look less detailed.

But neither of those things make the cameras *worse*. In fact, the cameras are better for the most part. It's just that Apple decided to compromise on one aspect to improve another. Probably due to market research telling them most people prioritize certain things over others when taking photos.

They increased the resolution of the ultra wide angle sensor to match the detail of the main sensor, but that seems to have lowered the low light performance of the ultra wide. So in good light, you will see an improvement in sharpness. But they could not increase the sensor size to compensate and smaller pixels can have trouble with dim conditions. They probably discovered that people mostly use that lens in good light and they would appreciate the bump in detail more.

But pro photographers often photograph in more challenging lighting conditions because you can capture a more artistic shot. I don't think I could have gotten this shot on a smartphone.

But photo normies are just taking pics of their kids doing weird kid shit.

They aren't really trying to push the limits of their ultra wide angle lenses.

And they increased the zoom of the telephoto lens to 5x from 3x because most people never used the 3x. So images at 5x look great now, but unfortunately if you use anything between 1x and 5x, your image will be *digitally* zoomed. Which is never as good as optical zoom. They basically crop the photo, zoom in, and add sharpening.

So they prioritized people having longer reach and more zoom at the expense of that middle zoom range. Every camera system makes tradeoffs and compromises.

And I hate that I always feel like I am defending Apple, because they do have misleading and dishonest marketing regarding a lot of aspects of their tech. But hating on Apple gets more clicks so content creators also make misleading and dishonest claims.

And so we are just surrounded in a circle of hyperbole from all sides.

Now, if you know these limitations, you can change your approach to photographing stuff to keep them from being an issue. You can reap the benefits without dealing with the new compromises.

Here are some tips to help owners of the new iPhone, but also everyone else too.

Smartphone Photography Tips

Whenever possible, try to use the main 1x camera at only 1x zoom. This has the largest sensor with the most detail and works best in the lowest light. Only use the ultra wide or telephoto if you cannot get the photo otherwise. If you aren't sure you have enough light for ultra wide, take the photo, and then as a safety, take two photos with the main camera side by side and stitch them later with a pano app.

"Zoom with your feet" and don't use "in-between" zooms. Let's say your lenses do 0.5x, 1x, and 5x zoom. Even though you have the option to use other zooms, like 2x or 3x, that is going to compromise your picture quality. It is essentially going to crop your photo and enlarge it, which causes a loss of detail. If fact, if you use 4.5x instead of 5x, your picture will probably look like trash. You are always going to get better results if you can move closer or step back so that you are using the native focal length of your chosen lens. For example, let's say you are taking a photo and you judge the best framing to be at 4x. But you still have 10 feet of space behind you. If you back up and then zoom in to 5x, the phone will switch to that lens and you will get a much clearer picture.

Rule of thumb...

1 to 3x... try to move closer.

4 to 5x... try to move back.

If you hit a wall and end up at 4.5x, you might see if you have a panorama mode and try that instead. Switch to your 5x and do the pano. Or you can take two photos and then stitch them together with software later on. (Stitching panos with an app later will give better quality than pano mode, especially in low light.)

Low light needs stability. Get some sort of stabilizing device for low light photos. Either a phone case that lets you stand up the phone on its own or a mini tripod.

This thing folds to the size of a credit card.

Your phone will detect when it is stable and not being handheld. It will then automatically extend its shutter speed allowing it to drink in more light and give you a better picture.

Tripods are photography magic and will improve your low light photos quite a bit. Motion blur of moving subjects can still be an issue, but photos of a cityscape or landscape will look great.

For selfies, shoot a little bit wide and then crop in. This goes a little contrary to my earlier advice saying cropping lowers detail, but this is specifically for shooting a face. The 0.5x and 1x lenses on smartphone cameras are fairly wide angle. This can cause unflattering proportions with human faces. Wide angle lenses exaggerate distance. Near things look very near and far things look very far. To a wide angle lens, the tip of your nose looks like it is super close but your ears seem like they are a mile away. And that's why you may look a bit "alien" in your selfies.

People's natural instinct is to "fill the frame" with a face. The outer edges of a wide angle lens are more distorted than the very center. So try to keep faces away from the edges of the frame.

And one other trick you can do for selfies and pictures of faces is step back a few feet. Sometimes this is hard, especially with selfies, as your arm is only so long... but if you can take your face photos from just a little bit farther back, you will almost entirely eliminate unflattering distortion. In some cases, just stretching out your arm as far as it will go is enough.

Then you just crop the image with the framing you originally wanted, and your facial proportions will look great.

An example...

Here the distortion is bad because I am not in the center and the lens is too close to my face. The lens thinks my nose is really close and my ears are in Canada.

But when the lens is farther back the edge distortion is less prevalent and my nose and ears (relative to the lens) seem roughly the same distance away. So my proportions look great, but I don't quite have the framing I want.

But with a little cropping...

For social media there is still plenty of resolution to crop in. Cropping isn't bad, it's just always better to use it as a last resort or in a special circumstance like this. I get roughly the same framing as in my wide angle shot, but I don't look like I'm behind a door's peephole trying to sell you the Good News.

I wish they made a "mini" selfie stick that only extended a foot or so. With the main camera that is usually all people need to undo any wide angle issues. I have one of those mini tripods and that works well, but there is no activation button so I have to do a timer. Mirrors work great to help you get some selfie distance.

In any case, all cameras have limitations and compromises. Clickbait titles saying something is WORSE THAN THE OLD ONE are frustrating and wrong.

And people upgrading phones every year are silly. All current name brand smartphones have promised at least 5 years of software updates. I think Google and Samsung are offering 7 years on some models. And Apple has always just let you use your phone until it literally will not work with new software. Which has worked out to 8 years in some cases (with a battery swap).

Phones are now appliances. For now, hardware will improve 10 to 15% from generation to generation until physics breaks. So if you want a 50% improvement, wait 5 years and you'll think your new phone is awesome. If you upgrade every year, it is going to be difficult to see the change.

I hope to be starting a little course on smartphone photography in the near future. All modern phones are capable of taking amazing pictures. And as long as you understand their limitations you can mitigate or avoid them. And that is what I plan to teach.

[cobrakaisb]

day 'n' nite

summary: every friday night, like clockwork, the older counselors and campers waste their nights away at a party. usually you’re the one taking care of luke but tonight the roles are reversed and all the cards are laid out on the table.

word count: 3.1k

featuring: drunk!reader, happy luke + reader (hence the happy luke picture in the header), them being giggly and in love, a little sad at the end (but only a teeny tiny bit)

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giggles tumble out of your mouth, filling the already loud atmosphere with your pure joy. you clutch onto katrina’s arm, pulling her flush against your side, as your cheek rests on her bicep. she laughs at you, moving her arm to support your weight. 

you gasp, loudly, as her hand rests gently on your waist. “i have a boyfriend,” you snap, suddenly able to hold yourself up.

you stand, albeit a bit slowly, and move away from the girl. she does her best to hide her laughter, but fails. her laugh, however, builds up more anger in your chest, and you cross your arms.    

“oh he’s your boyfriend now? i thought you two didn’t do labels,” katrina teases.

you pout at her words, answering, “well luke says that not me. everyone knows we’re together.” 

“who’s together?” jade, a girl from the apollo cabin asks, sliding into the spot next to katrina.

you throw a nasty look in her direction, or what you assume is a nasty look. even in your inebriated state, you know that jade can’t be trusted. she was one of the first campers to hate on you, and she’s one of the few that continue to do so. once the novelty of hera having a demigod child wore off, most people left you to your own devices. there were still the occasional whispers and rumors, but jade and her friend group always seemed to be behind them. 

“none of your business,” you snap, turning your nose up at her like a fifth grader. 

she scoffs at you, “ugh whatever,” and walks away. 

you smile, a satisfied look on your face as you reclaim your seat next to katrina. she’s holding onto two cups, and you’re positive that one of them belongs to you. you reach for one of them, but she pulls it away, lifting it just out of your reach.

“i think you need a break,” she says, voice soft and caring.

“no ‘m fine,” you mumble, trying to reach for the cup again but completely missing. 

that’s the funniest thing in the world, and you burst into another giggling fit. katrina stares at you, a soft smile on her face. your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but your shoulders continue to shake with, now somewhat stifled, laughter. you can’t even register what’s so funny, but everything seems to have you in a giggly mood. one that only gets worse when luke walks across the way, followed by a group of boys who you know to be his friends.

“luke looks like a dragon prince,” you announce, pointing in his direction. 

katrina chuckles at your words; they make no sense. you, however, think they’re the most accurate description in the world. the orange and red hues from the large fire pit, courtesy of cabin nine, illuminate his features. he’s laughing at something one of his friends said, but his eyes are still deep and serious. the white scar tracing down his cheek shines brightly in the dark, and you wonder if landon knows he hurt his king. 

luke feels your eyes on him, because he turns and meets your gaze, smiling at you. you gasp as he throws you a subtle nod, like something out of a teen movie. your right hand clutches at katrina’s shirt sleeve, and you shake the material vigorously between your fingers. she looks to you, and notices the deep flush and dilated pupils. 

“he’s looking at me. i think he has a crush on me. oh my gods what do i do? i know my mother’s the goddess of marriage, but i’m not ready for this,” you ramble.

katrina laughs, again. luke looks your way, again. you start to panic, again. 

“relax,” katrina says, “he’s your boyfriend.” 

her tone is teasing, but you don’t pick up on it. all you feel is shock. your mouth falls open, and your head swivels between the curly headed boy and your best friend. 

“you’re lying,” you conclude. 

katrina shakes her head, “i’m not.” 

before you can refute her claims, the dragon king himself is in front of you. he slides into the empty seat on your left hand side, throwing his arm casually over your shoulder. there’s a can of something in his other hand, and he lifts it up to his mouth for a swig. you watch, with deep fascination, as his adam’s apple bobs while he swallows the liquid. when he’s done, he leans down to your ear, lips ghosting over the piercings that adorn it. 

“hi,” he whispers, pulling at your golden hoop helix piercing with his teeth.

you're stunned into silence. all that you can muster is a small gasp, and you turn to katrina, wondering what you should do. she’s already staring at you, but so are these other two guys, and a girl who you barely recognize. you point to luke with your thumb, asking a silent question. katrina nods, and one of the guys, another brunette, hides his laugh behind a red solo cup. 

you turn your head again, making eye contact with the cute guy next to you. you just stare at him for a while, and he holds your gaze the whole time. his right hand, you realize, is tracing circles on your exposed shoulder. the pad of his thumb is calloused and rough against your soft skin, but you like to contrast. you lean into his touch, shifting closer to him on the wooden bench. 

“ouch,” you mumble, lifting up your hand. 

“what’s wrong?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“i think i got a splinter,” you explain, holding up your palm for him to see. 

he inspects your hand, and there’s absolutely nothing there, but replies, “don’t worry. i’ll take you to the infirmary tomorrow.”

you nod, and he kisses your palm, right where the supposed splinter is. his lips are soft, you think, but then why is everyone giggling? you look around, but none of the four people surrounding the two of you provide any sort of explanation. 

“i know. my girlfriend makes me use this lip balm she really likes,” he says, and you’re still confused. 

“huh?” you ask, head tilting. 

“my girlfriend gave me this lip balm. it’s from glossy or something,” he answers, holding up the tube. 

you snatch it from him, looking at the label. even drunk, you know a high quality lip balm when you see one. 

“glossier! i love it there,” you exclaim.

everyone laughs again, even the boy next to you this time. you look at him, a shy smile on your face, as you unscrew the cap. you squeeze the tube, and lift the lip balm to your puckered lips. you rub them together, smacking them a couple times. luke doesn’t take his eyes off you; you don’t take your eyes off him. 

there’s relatively no distance between you two now, but you can’t bring yourself to care. luke doesn’t seem to mind either as he shifts his arm and way that pulls your body even closer to his. the little space that remained is gone, and your thighs are pressed together. you want to be touching him in some way, and lift your left leg to drape over his right one. you nudge his left calf with your converse, gaining his attention. you giggle at that, stifling your laughs with his shoulder. 

“she’s gone,” he observes. 

“oh i know,” katrina answers. 

“you smell so good,” you say, adjusting your head so that your cheek rests against him, and your eyes meet his. 

the two boys, the ones who you can’t recognize at the moment, burst out laughing. your eyebrows furrowed at that, a soft huff escaping you as you cross your arms and lean further into luke. you close your eyes for a minute, basking in his warm presence and the smoky undertones emitting from his shirt. 

“how many drinks have you had?” he asks, large hand rubbing up and down your back. 

“two,” you answer confidently, holding up two fingers. 

katrina scoffs, “try three cups of jungle juice and whatever else at the pregame.” 

“you pregamed?” luke asks, voice low against your ear. 

“mhm. cause what if they didn’t have any drinks i liked?” you reply, holding your hands up in defense. 

he chuckles at your words, humming in agreement as he kisses your forehead. that action, for some reason, registers as oddly intimate in your mind, and so you’re pushing him away. in your drunken state, you can't comprehend that he’s your boyfriend.

“i shouldn’t be doing this. katrina says i have a boyfriend,” you slur, shaking your head. 

“no, you said you have a boyfriend,” katrina replies. 

“well either way!” you yell, throwing your hands up in exasperation. 

“isn’t he your boyfriend?” one of the boys asks, pointing to luke.

“he can’t be. he’s too hot,” you answer confidently. 

everyone laughs at that, except for you and luke. luke’s cheeks are flushed red, but he looks at you with nothing but love and adoration in his eyes. he smiles at you, gently shaking his head in disbelief. 

you shrink back into yourself, slouching down in his arms so that the back of your head rests against his shoulder. luke’s hand fiddles with the hem of your jeans, fingers ghosting over your hips, and you squirm. you shove his hand away, covering your face with your own. 

“what’s wrong?” he asks, bending down so only you can hear him.

“i embarrassed myself,” you whine, peeking at him through a gap in your fingers.

luke chuckles, “it’s okay baby. i still love you.” 

you light up at his words, wrapping your arms around his neck. you pull his face down to yours, smacking kisses all over, only stopping to giggle from pure, unfiltered happiness. normally, you save the affection for the private confines of your cabins, but all of your reservations are out the window at the moment. 

luke smiles brightly at your actions, dimples and everything, as he squeezes your hips three times. it’s your silent code, an unspoken way for the two of you to communicate your love and appreciation for one another, and you smile happily at his use of it. you hug him again, burying your face into the crook of his neck. you can tell that he’s been smoking, and maybe that’s why his eyes are a little red-rimmed. you don’t mind, however, and opt to keep your head resting there. his arms wrap securely around you, cradling your body the way someone would hold a toddler. 

“tired?” he asks, rubbing a hand down your back.

you want to say no, but the giant yawn betrays you. 

“c’mon, i’ll bring you to bed,” he says, patting your thigh to signal for you to get up. 

you agree, holding out your hand for him to take. once your fingers are safely stowed away in his palm, you walk up to katrina. 

“goodnight tree,” you mumble, hugging her tightly. 

“g’night,” she replies, squeezing you just as tight.

with that, you let luke lead you towards the hera cabin as you focus on not tripping over your own feet. you stumble on the stairs, and luke squeezes your waist, holding you steady. he’s your rock, and you don’t know what you’d do without him. 

he opens the door, waiting for you to enter the cabin before following. you look around, and your eyes land on the giant statue taking up a majority of the room. you gasp, hands covering your mouth, as you meet your mother’s cold and calculating stare. 

“i don’t think she should be seeing me like this. can we go to your cabin?” you ask, turning to face luke.

“it’s a statue,” luke deadpans, shaking his head.

“but she’s all knowing,” you reply, pointing to the marble goddess. 

“you’re gonna be fine,” luke explains softly. 

you’re eyes are wide, and you continuously shake your head no. you grab onto luke’s hand, intertwining your fingers together. his hand is rough and worn from all the training he does, a testament to how long he’s been at camp. your mind wanders back to his position as king of the dragons, and you want to ask him if his hands are scarred from the claws of a rival. yet, it doesn’t seem appropriate, so you keep your mouth shut. 

“where’s you toiletry bag?” luke ask, letting go of you hand as he wanders around the cabin. 

“i don’t know,” you answer, following him towards the area you’ve deemed your bed. 

he huffs, standing back from the bed to monitor the situation. his hands are on his hips, eyes scanning the area for your bag with makeup remover, skincare, and other bathroom necessities. you find the pose extremely comical, and laugh. he looks at you over his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“what’s so funny?” he asks.

“you look like my dad,” you wheeze. 

he pauses, mouth agape like a fish out of water. he opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, but ultimately comes up empty handed. just when it seems like he’s about to say something, you’re bounding over to your bedside table, grabbing a bag that’s clearly overloaded. 

“found it!” you shout. 

luke cringes at the volume, but takes the bag from your hands without further questioning. he marches over to your closet, the one he helped you set up, and grabs a small towel from one of the shelves. you smile at him. he’s so endearing, you think, how’d i get so lucky?

“let’s go to the bathroom,” he says, tilting his head towards the door of your cabin.

you nod in agreement, taking his outstretched hand. luke smiles at you, allowing you to lead the way, despite your drunken state. he admires your beauty in the moment, although he knows you’d argue you’re anything but. your makeup is messy, your cheeks are flushed from all the alcohol, and your top is falling off your shoulder, yet he still believes that you can rival aphrodite. he shouldn’t think that, he realizes, as she’s one of the only gods he still prays to, but he does. 

the two of you enter the bathroom, and you're surprised by how empty it is. however, the peace and quiet is nice for a usually chaotic space. you decide on a mirror and sink in the middle of the collection, and turn to face luke, waiting for his approval. when he sets the bag down, and removes the towel from his shoulder, you know you’ve made a good choice. 

“alright, let’s take your makeup off,” he says, patting the small of your back. 

you fumble with the zipper of your pouch, trying and failing to get the bag opened. you pout, holding it out to luke, with a pleading look in your eyes. 

“i’ll help you. you want to sit on the counter?” he asks.

you nod, and turn around so your back is towards the sink and mirrors. you brace yourself, ready to test your physical strength in your drunken state. you fail the first attempt, not even making it onto the ledge. luke watches, amusement clear in his eyes, because it’s not like you to ask for help. 

“need a hand?” 

“no i can do it! i’m a demigod,” you answer, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

he chuckles at your response, but goes back to digging through your bag for the cotton pads and micellar water. he also takes out your face wash, moisturizer, toothbrush, toothpaste, and other skin care items he thinks you might need. 

“luke,” you whisper, tugging on his sleeve. 

he hums in acknowledgment, turning away from the array of products to face you. 

“help?” you ask with a shy smile. 

“i thought you didn’t need it, cause your a demigod,” he teases, crossing his arms. 

you’re drawn to his muscles, flexing against his tee and you’re temporarily left speechless. he’s just so hot, you think. 

“gods i hope my mom answers my prayers,” you blurt out. 

“about what?” 

“us getting married. i really want to. i think…if we were in vegas, i’d drag you down to the chapel,” you reply. 

luke’s mouth drops open in shock, “you think about marrying me?”

“nonstop,” you answer, finally climbing onto the counter. 

he stands there for a minute, unsure of what to say or do. all he knows is that he thinks about getting married to you too. he envisions you, regal as ever, like the true daughter of the queen of the gods, walking towards him down an aisle. it’d be small. you, him, and a handful of close friends, but every single part of it would be meaningful. 

“let’s get you ready for bed,” he says, changing the conversation. 

“okay!” 

it takes him much longer than usual to get you through your bedtime routine, but he doesn’t mind if you don’t. and, you seem pretty content right now. you’re smiling and giggling, making goofy faces at him in the mirror with toothpaste smeared on your chin and a fluffy headband keeping your hair at bay. the whole scene feels oddly domestic, especially when he takes your towel and gently wipes the corners of your mouth. it’s serene. it’s perfect. 

“you’re perfect y’know that?” he asks, looking at you earnestly. 

you flush, turning away from him. 

“stop.”

“‘m not lying! you’re perfect for me,” he whispers, cupping your cheeks. 

you pucker your lips, and luke lays a gentle kiss on them. you burst into giggles, engulfing him in a hug. 

“i want to change. come back to my cabin? please?”

he agrees, following you to the end of the earth. it was an easy request, nothing too extraordinary.

“let me get my pajamas, and then i’ll be right back, okay?” he mumbles, kissing your forehead before leaving you alone with the eternal glow of hera’s flames. 

by the time he gets back, you're standing in one of his tee shirts and a pair of sleep shorts. he’s just wearing a tank top and flannel pants, put he comes up behind you to wrap you in his arms. you away for a minute, dancing to a song only you two can hear. then, you wiggle out of his grasp, climb into bed, and pull the covers up to your chin.

“come lie with me,” you beg, patting the spot next to you.

he wraps you up on his arms, pulling you flush against his chest. once your breaths even out, he sneaks out of the bed, waiting just a second to make sure you don’t wake up. quietly, he pulls the candy out of his pocket — two blue raspberry jolly ranchers.

“please hera, let me marry her. aphrodite, keep her by my side, whatever it takes. please.” 

and for the first time in a long time, luke castellan makes a genuine offering.

taglist: @percabethlvr @iwantahockeyhimbo @hottiewifeyyyy @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @maraschinocherry3 @used2beeeeee @harrysnovia @cami-is-reading @mxtokko @cxcilla @obxstiles

[woso-dreamzzz]

Sleep II

Katrina Gorry x Teen!Reader

Summary: You forget your medication

The first and only warning flag that Mini needed was you and Kyra pulling pranks.

You'd always been a bit easily influenced by the older girls but you usually didn't get involved with pranks unless you hadn't done one thing that was meant to be second nature at this point.

So, as Mini watches you run your laps as punishment, she sighs.

"She's off her meds," She says in explanation to Charli, who is sitting nearby.

"Huh?"

"Her adhd meds," Mini elaborates as she watches Kyra try to trip you. You just barely keep your balance and immediately try to get revenge by shoving her over.

"Is she allowed to be off them?"

"I mean, technically, yes. It doesn't really matter if she misses a few doses but I don't think she's taken any this entire camp." Mini sighs as she stands, stretching out her leg before grabbing you by the back of the shirt as you jog past.

"Hey!" You complain," I still have two more!"

"Nope. Back to your room, please." She keeps her orders short so you can follow along. "Go straight in and shower. I'll be up to see you shortly."

"But-"

"Into your room," Mini insists," And shower. I will up soon."

"Fine."

You'd grown accustomed to listening to Katrina's orders. As soon as you came to live with her and Clara, you'd been put into a routine that you hadn't ever had before.

Your parents were always working and rarely home. You'd grown used to doing what you wanted, when you wanted. You hadn't even had a bedtime before moving into Mini's house and it came as a shock to you when she began to enforce one.

It had been extended a little during camp but not by too much and you were usually in bed way before anyone else in the team. It was a little annoying and everyone teased you but you didn't mind.

You didn't really cling to your routines as much at camp and really, that should have been the other sign that told Mini what she needed to know.

She's not at all surprised when she sees you lounging on your bed on your phone with no indication that you had even thought about showering.

"Shower," She says to you," Go on. In the shower."

You nod. "Yeah. Just one sec-"

"No," She insists," Now."

"But-"

"You need to shower before dinner. You know this. If you don't do this now then you won't do it later."

You frown. "I thought you wanted to talk to me."

"I do," Mini says plainly," But you need to shower first." She jerks her chin to the bathroom. "Go on. Wash you hair too."

You make a face. "I don't like wet hair."

"We've got plenty of time before dinner. Wash you hair and I'll dry it for you."

"But-"

She gives you a pointed look and you nod, shuffling into the bathroom with a towel and a change of clothes.

Mini waits briefly before relaxing when she hears the shower start running, digging around in your drawers for where you've stashed your hairdryer. You swear that you always know where it is despite it always being in a different place when Mini looks so after several minutes of searching, she manages to find it and plug it in.

It takes a while for you to return but when you do, you sit in front of her as she blow dries your hair, brushing it through once it's all dry.

"So," Mini says finally," You haven't been taking your medication."

"That's scary," You reply," Do you just know everything?"

Mini laughs. "It's the mum instincts but, really. What's up with that? Did you forget to grab a refill before we left?"

Usually Clara is the one to take you to refill your prescription but she had been busy during the week before camp and you hadn't really thought about it until a few days before.

You shrug.

"Camp isn't that long," You explain," I didn't think it would matter."

"You don't have to take your medication if you don't want to. We can find alternatives," Mini says with a hum as she pulls the brush through your hair again," Do you want to come off your medication?"

"No." You shake your head, turning it so you can look back at her. "I just forgot. Promise. It won't happen again."

Mini searches your face for a lie but it's clear to her that you're being truthful.

"Okay," She says," But stick close to me this time. I don't want Kyra being a bad influence.

"Why not?" You whine.

She grins at you. "Because you're entirely too susceptible to joining her schemes."

[urfavleo777]

warnings: age gap, tattoo artist! colby x reader, alcohol

"Angel's wings!" your best friend exclaims, speaking completely seriously. Your other friend approves, clapping her hands eagerly. "Get them tattooed!"

You almost choke on your drink when you hear how seriously Katrina gives you a new idea for your first tattoo. If someone told you that friendship between three people doesn't exist, you would laugh at them. The three of you are living proof that it's not the number of people in the group that matters, but the love that exists between you. Each of you is different, but that is the most beautiful thing. There is nothing worse than boredom and monotony in friendship.

"Come on, you'll be eighteen in an hour. Do something that will make you happy, not your parents." Sophia, usually the voice of reason, tries to convince you.

You don't know if it's the alcohol you just drank, but in a split second you undergo an internal transformation. You'll be of age in an hour. No one will be able to lecture you. Even your parents who, instead of spending this birthday time with their daughter, decided to go to the mountains. At first you reacted with sadness, but over time you were glad that the situation had turned out this way because you could invite your two favorite girls over for the night.

Katrina and Sophia look at you with impatient eyes, encouraging you to make a quick decision. You take a deep breath, tilting your head back. As pathetic as it sounds, you try your hardest to get advice from the ceiling.

You look back at your waiting friends. They send drunken glances your way, which only reinforces the fact that you must probably look like one of them at this point. Sophia and Katarina's eyes widen. Something unexpected is about to happen; something that will change the course of history forever.

Katarina clenches her fists like a true boxing legend, preparing for the worst possible scenario. With each subsequent inhalation, you feel even more excitement and arousal wash over you. You open your mouth to announce the official verdict.

"If not now, never, right?"

After saying these words, you're crushed under the bodies of these two freaks. And, you swear to yourself that if your parents had been home, after all those squeals of happiness, you would have ended up under a bridge.

"The best decision you've ever made, Y/n! I'm so proud," Sophia squeals excitedly, and Katrina joins in. You realize that you still hold the glass in your hand. You hiss, knowing that you'll definitely need to change the sheets of your bed after tonight. "Don't worry about it! Let's go to the tattoo artist!"

"Now?" you keep mumbling under their bodies.

Katrina and Sophia step away from you, exchanging meaningful glances with each other. You are finally able to catch your breath, but you don't really understand what they're trying to tell you.

"Yes. Now." Sophia grins. "Katrina, are you thinking about the same person as me?"

The friend nods her head in response, also with a big grin on her face.

"Oh, yeah! The handsomest, hottest and most expensive tattoo artist in town," she starts counting and you wonder why you've never heard of him before. "Y/n, we guarantee you the best fucking fun."

"Let's fucking do this!" They both squeal, grabbing your hands and pulling you out of the bed.

***

"You guys didn't even give me a chance to change clothes!"

You are wearing a black body suit and really low rise jeans so people on the street can see a bit of skin, which makes you feel a little uncomfortable.

"You look great." Sophia assures you and Katrina nods to her. Well, they're wearing perfectly balanced sweaters compared to you. They decided to make you the main star without outshining you with clothes. You feel like standing out of the crowd, which you don't like very much.

"Do you think this tattoo artist will accept us without prior consultation?" you ask, genuinely curious. "Maybe we should call him? We'd better get back home..."

"Relax, Y/n," you turn into a street you've probably never been to. Katrina tries to convince you, but with each step you take, you become less and less sure. Even though your parents have well-paid jobs, they usually don't let you hang around the rich districts. They would be disappointed if they knew that while they were away their daughter was getting a tattoo, not really knowing where.

"You said he was an expensive tattoo artist. I don't think I want to spend money this way." You continue, feeling the alcohol drain from you. You regain consciousness and regret saying yes to your friends. "Maybe we should really turn back?"

"Y/n," you stop in front of a building emanating LED light. The girls move closer to you and one of them puts a hand on your shoulder. Sophia, the fucking voice of reason, says: 

"He is my brother's friend. They have been friends since childhood. He practiced on my brother, making the first patterns. He would never take money from me or my friends. We are always out of line. Trust me, you're in good hands."

"He was the one who gave me that big tattoo you liked so much," finishes Katrina.

You sigh, trying to convince yourself first and foremost. Sophia pulls out her phone and brings it closer to your face.

The first thing that catches your eye are the huge white numbers on the screen. What's more, they don't seem blurry at all. You must be really sober. You take a deep breath, recalling the quote of your favorite teacher in your head.

12:00. Carpe diem.

 "It's time to go fucking crazy, Y/n." 

***

"Sophia? What's for today?" It’s a male voice. Raspy, yet soft. The sound of it makes you whip your head over to your friends, but you're trying to stay calm. He lets out a heavy sigh before humming to himself in thought. Only after a while he notices that Sophia is not alone. "And who is this?"

"Hello, Colby. Meet Y/n, your new client." 

And the way he shakes your hand is firm but gentle, not as hard as you think it'd be given the size of his biceps probably are larger than your head. But then he softly grips your elbow and guides you into the chair with a hand on your back. "Don't worry, I don't bite."

"Well, I thought I would have to convince you.. longer."

You flush a little under his gaze because he's noticed how you're shaking like a leaf next to him. And the way he smiles indicates he might enjoy biting you anyways... and maybe you'd let him. 

"I was just about to close, but you know perfectly well that I will always make an exception for you, Sophia." Your friend smiles at his words.

"So, what are we doing tonight?" he focuses all his attention on you. You swallow, not really knowing what to answer. Katrina decides to save your ass from total embarrassment.

"Angel's wings." 

He looks like he's about to roll his eyes.

"Seriously, I can't count how many girls asked me for the exact same pattern. Try something more creative."

"I'd like to stick with the wings, please. In a place invisible to the eye."

"Getting a tattoo so you don't show it to anyone? How old are you anyway?"

"Eighteen." He doesn't look convinced. With one movement of your hand, you pull your ID from your back pocket. Colby, as you can guess, surprised by the concrete, grabs the ID in his hand and looks at it carefully.

"She's so young." When he talks about you in the third person, something happens to you. "Are you sure you want those fucking wings?"

"Come on, Colby. You did this to my brother many times." Sophia interjects. "Don't ruin her birthday."

"Ah, yes. Happy birthday or something." You can tell he’s in a good mood based on the playful amusement in his voice. 

"Thanks," you hang your head.

"We have to do something about her shyness." he turns to your friends.

"Maybe wings between her tits? I bet no girl has ever asked for this," suggests Katrina. You almost choke on your saliva. You want to get up from that chair and run out.

"That sounds perfect." His voice is sweet with a touch of flirtiness, and you swear you can hear the smile in it. "What do you think, Y/n?"

"There's no way I'm going to show you my tits." You take courage. Colby laughs loudly. He clearly takes pleasure in your attitude and shakes his head, leaning in to watch you.

"It's your choice." You bite at your lip instead of answering him. 

"Come on, Y/n. We won't look either." Katrina says and Sophia nods.

You've already succumbed to them once in a while. Nothing will stop you from doing it again.

The girls send you their last kisses. After a while, it's just you and your tattoo artist left in the room.

***

You're honestly glad when the uncomfortable silence is drowned out by the song "Ultraviolence" by Lana Del Rey. You asked to simply turn on the radio, but you were surprised when Colby asked you for the title. What was even weirder was when he used the fucking vinyl of one of your favorite albums instead of Spotify.

He hums to himself. "Those are nice."

You got rid of your bra. No one has ever complimented your boobs, but you smile slightly, burying your face in your hands.

He gives you a little wink before stenciling what you had in mind, his fingertips tracing the lines of the ink that leaves goosebumps across your skin.

There's a lingering feeling as he pulls his hand back. You think he's toying with you. Frightful little thing, you are and here he is wanting to play with his pretty little client. Next thing you know, his hand is around your throat.

You tense and realize that he has moved some of your hair to the other side to give more access to the space between your tits. It definitely could have been done easier and better, but the twinkle in his eyes said he did it on purpose. Oh yes, he was definitely having fun with you. The way his hand barely grazed your throat and the side of your neck before he would gently scratch your arm with his blunt nails and pull away.

He let's out a huff of quiet laughter and then gets his tools ready. "So, y/n, you have a safeword?"

And you're brought out of your thoughts about his large hands because... "Huh?"

"A safeword. It's big."

W..what's big? You can't stop your eyes from flitting down to his thighs and what may lie between them. He laughs and shifts so your eyes are instantly back up and staring at his eyes that glimmer in amusement.

"The tattoo, I mean. It's a big piece. Need to know if it'll be too much, yeah?"

[mcmorare]

i want to write things so bad my brain feels like a dog running in circles

[oneforthemunny]

happy together |yandere!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: your and eddie's date at the hideout leads to uncovered pasts, from both of you. or part two of the yandere!eddie series.

contains: very dark fic! yandere!eddie. obsessive and posessive eddie. alludes to past violence, past relationship trauma, mean!eddie. parental trauma. alcohol. language. smut. oral (male and fem receiving), pinvsex. manipulative eddie. stalking. obsession. very dark. minors dni!!

“I’m not really sure I’m the right girl for this.” Nervous smiles, tugging at the ends of her sweater, a blonde ponytail bouncing with every turn of her head, scanning the room. “‘M not a big punk rock kinda girl.” 

“Good thing it’s metal then, right?” Eddie grinned, knee bouncing on the wooden stool. “C’mon, they’re not gonna mosh you or some shit. Just here to listen to music.” If only he’d known then, that’s not why Chrissy was so nervous, why she pulled and twisted the sleeves of her sweater furiously, chin ducked to her chest the entire night. 

“Hey, this is really good.” You giggled, the crystal trill of your giddy tone pulling Eddie out of his daze. There was no nervous blonde in front of him- no, there was an angel sitting across from him, giving him a bright smile that he was sure was melting him to his very core. 

“Is it?” Eddie’s voice cracked, wobblier than he would have liked. His knee still bounced on the wooden stool, trying to down his beer so he’d loosen up, enough to not shake so much but not too much- he couldn’t risk getting too drunk. 

“Yeah.” You nodded, tipping the rim of the martini glass to your lips, your lipstick stain printed on the rim. Eddie had never been so envious of a glass. 

“Really good. Excellent choice.” You praised, leaving Eddie blushing under your sweet words. “What’s this called again?” 

“Uh, a casio- no cosmo.” Eddie stuttered, fingers drumming on the sticky wood of the table top. “I’ll be honest, I just asked Katrina to make somethin’ good for you.” 

 “Well, my compliments to Katrina.” You giggled, sliding the glass towards Eddie. “You want a taste?” 

His heart jumped, eyes focused on the lipstick stain on the rim. The thought of putting his lips where yours were, it was too much for him, sending his body into overdrive. “S-Sure,” Eddie swallowed, picking the glass up. His lips barely brushing where your lipstick was, casual enough that he hoped you wouldn’t see the tremble in his hands. 

The vodka burned down his throat, singed his nose, swirling with the sweetness of the mixer. “Mm,” Eddie swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Shit, that is good.” 

You grinned, hands brushing when you took your drink back, both of your chins ducking with nervous excitement. There was a pause, a dreaded fill of silent tension falling between the two of you. 

Say something, Munson. Fucking say something, anything. But he couldn’t, he could barely form a thought. His mind cruelly wandered back to her, the night playing on a humiliating loop in the back of his head. 

“So,” You saved him, head lolling sweetly in your hand, a little drunk, a little silly. “You know if you wanted to take me out, you didn’t have to switch shifts with Brenda.” 

Eddie’s heart stopped, halted with thundering fear, body stilling. “W-What?” Eddie managed to squeeze the word through his tightening throat. 

Your lips tightened in a smile, fingertips tracing over the wood table. “Brenda told me about how you took her shift.” You admitted. “That you probably did it so you could ask me out.” 

Eddie’s cheeks flamed, the familiar ringing crescendoing in the back of his mind. Chrissy’s face morphing into yours, her look of horror and disgust taking over your own features. “I would never be with you, you’re a fucking freak! Do you hear me? Leave me alone! You’re a freak!” 

“Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to- I just meant,” Nerves blossomed in your own veins, hands wringing under the table. “I-I meant, you didn’t have to take her shift. I woulda-” Eddie blinked, eyes still wide, rounded like he’d been caught. “I would have gone out with you anyways.” 

Eddie’s body halted again, the raging screams of Chrissy, the deafening ringing in his ears, all stilled at your soft tone. “Y-You would’ve?” Eddie whispered. 

“Well, yeah.” You admitted, eyes cutting sweetly up to him. “I mean, yeah, I would have. You’re always sweet, and nice, and funny, and- yeah, I would’ve gone out with you. I’m having a really good time.” 

Eddie thought he might float away. His heart, his head filled with such a light, airy feeling that he’d gone positively boneless. “I-I’m having a good time too.” He ducked his head down, hoping you couldn’t see the rushing flush of red on his cheeks. 

“How did you-” Eddie stopped himself, taking a breath so his mind could still. He couldn’t ramble, his ramblings got him in trouble, showed too much. “Did Brenda tell you?” Eddie’s knee bounced faster, trying to stop his hands from twirling his rings around, nervous fidgeting. 

You smiled softly. “Yeah,” You nodded softly. “I mean, I brought up that we were going… out tonight. And she just kinda mentioned it.” You paused, looking down at your drink, twirling the black straw around the glass. An unsure pause filled the two of you, awkwardly floating around you in still uncertainty. 

“She, uh- Brenda, she said she used to date your uncle?” You tried again, stomach flipping, filling with dread. This was a mistake, you’d hoped that cynical voice nagging in the back of your head would have been wrong. 

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded, calculated breaths, deep in, deep out, trying to calm his jolted nerves. The long drink you took didn’t help, looking around at the other bar patrons awkwardly. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Munson, get your head out of your fuckin’ ass, and do this right! Planned this shit for weeks, and now you’re gonna fuck it all up. 

“They dated for a while.” Eddie added, picking up his own beer. His hands shook when he lifted the bottle to his lips. “I, uh, I had just moved in with my uncle when they started dating.” 

“Are they still dating?” You pressed, hoping to keep the conversation going. 

“No,” Eddie shook his head lightly. “No, they broke up like years ago, but uh, she’s always been nice to me. Got me this job, so…” Eddie threw his hands out slightly, knee bouncing rapidly. 

Your eyes cut away, back down to your drink, twiddling with the straw awkwardly. Eddie’s ribs were constricting in the tightness of his own chest, sure the bones were about to tear through flesh. His hands clammy, fingers swelling around the silver rings on his fingers. 

“She, uh- Brenda, she was kinda like a second mom to me, after my mom,” Eddie’s throat tightened, eyes on the ring of condensation left behind by his beer. “After she passed.” 

“Oh,” Your face fell, eyes rounding sympathetically- a look he’d grown so used to, but seeing it on your features didn’t leave quite the same acidic disdain in his mouth. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that.” Your teeth tugged on your lip. 

“Yeah, it’s not- it’s fine. I mean, it was a while ago.” Eddie’s knee shook, sure he was rattling off the barstool’s laddering step. “Anyways, I went to live with my Uncle for a while a-and he was with Brenda. She’s always looking out for me.” Always, even when she shouldn’t, Eddie’s mind said what he didn’t, ringing loud in his thoughts. 

“That’s good. That you have her.” You smiled softly, Eddie’s heart soared. “She’s really nice. I like working with her a lot.” 

“Yeah, me too.” Eddie nodded, the tightness in his chest easing, even at the pause. “What about you?” 

Your eyes met his with an unsettling suddency, wide and urgent. Eddie’s brow raised before he could still it. “W-What?” Your stuttering squeak piqued his interests, sending him soaring into bouts of curiosity. 

“I mean, what about your family? Back home?” Eddie’s tone was level, an uneasy kind of calmness that left you consumed with vulnerability. 

“O-Oh,” Your hands twisted under the table, picking the black polish that smudged over your cuticles. “It’s not much, honestly.” 

Eddie nodded slowly, eyes scanning your features. The way you swallowed anxiously, chewing the inside of your lip. “Fucked up home life?” Eddie grinned playfully. Your eyes lifted back to him. “Sorry, that was- I’m just saying, I get it. You don’t have to tell me, but if you ever wanted someone to talk to, it doesn’t get more dysfunctionally fucked than the Munson’s.” 

“No, it’s not that.” You shook your head gently. “No, I’m- I was really close with my family. I just, I don’t get to see them much now anymore.” 

Eddie swallowed his words, the urge to jump and demand to know more, to scare you with his prying. He couldn’t do that, not again. Girls didn’t like that, he’d learned that. 

Instead he stayed silent, watching you fidget around. “I-I moved when I was eighteen.” Your eyes stayed on the table. “I, uh, I moved with my… They didn’t want me to leave. They wanted me to stay and go to college. My dad really wanted me too, and-and when I didn’t… We just kinda lost contact?” The words tumbled out of you, lungs squeezing them out, wringing them from your chest like a soapy rag. 

“I used to talk to my mom a lot, but… I don’t know. It got kinda weird, ya know?” Your own knee bounced now, eyes rounding to his, in a face that was all too familiar. 

“My mom, she was just really hard on me. I-I don’t think she meant to be, but…” Visions of Chrissy’s same troubled face meshed with yours, her words ringing like sirens in his mind. 

“Yeah, no, I get that.” Eddie swallowed, blinking hard to get her face off of yours. Insulting, Munson, comparing her to you. 

“So, you don’t talk to them much anymore?” Eddie pressed. 

Your head shook. “No, I-I mean I’m sure they would if I would call.” Your heart drummed in your ears. “T-They don’t know how to reach me, so… I’d have to call them, a-and it’s just a mess.” 

Eddie’s spine tingled, icy pricklings of curiosity. Your parents didn’t know? Didn’t know you moved all alone? You said you were close, had pictures of them in your bedroom, but why? What weren’t you telling him? 

Eddie didn’t pry, simply nodding, grabbing his beer. “No, I get that.” He nodded. “I get the messy thing.” You lifted your own drink, gulping down the rest of it, wincing at the burn of vodka down your throat. 

Silence fell over the two of you again, a lingering awkwardness in the air that had Eddie’s stomach turning. 

Whoever called alcohol liquid courage, might’ve been a genius; Eddie had decided that. Three beers in, his hand was on your waist, head banging and rocking with you in the middle of the crowd. Surprisingly full and packed tonight, Eddie was thankful, it broke up some of the uncomfortableness. It only took your two more drinks to fully loosen up, teetering on tipsy and breaking open a new side of you to Eddie that he was enthralled with. 

Giggly and sweet and chatty and so touchy. You’d grabbed his hand, pulled him into the crowd, shoulders brushing and wiggling through the others to get near the front. 

“They’re really good!” You screamed over the roar of the music, turning towards Eddie. 

“Yeah?” Eddie yelled back, his hand still ghosting over your waist, the band of your jeans. “You like it?” 

“Yeah!” You giggled, lips spreading in a wide smile. “I-I’m having a really good time!” 

Eddie’s heart skipped, maybe stopped all together. He was thankful for the dim lighting, that his blush was hidden by it. “Me too.” Eddie’s voice cracked. “I-I’m having a really good time, too.” 

You smiled, arms thrown around his neck in a sloppy, silly way that had his knees tightening, weakened under your smile. Your eyes flickering down to his lips, teeth catching and rolling your own. Eddie was sure you could feel his heart thundering through his veins, his own hands gripping your waist rigidly. 

You were teasing him, playful, but agonizing. Head swaying in then back, closer and closer to him. Noses nearly touching, an almost brush that had Eddie’s blood rushing to his cock. Tongue running over his own lips, his head inched closer to yours, your lips barely brushing his. 

“Eddie?” His body ran still, rigid at the voice. 

“Eddie Munson?” Your lips fell in a pout, arms slacking around Eddie, slipping off his frame. Brows furrowed at the blonde in front of you, though she wasn’t interested in looking at you, eyes in a nearly challenging glare at Eddie. 

“H-Hey, Tammy.” Eddie’s hands slid down your waist, shoulder moving in front of you. “What are you doing here?” 

Tammy’s lips twitched in a fake smile that came off more like a snarl. “Jason knows the drummer. Plus, it’s half on buckets during the show.” Her eyes scowled over his frame. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” 

Eddie’s heart stopped, a clammy chill blanketing his skin. “Yeah, hey, it was good to see yo-” 

“-I haven’t seen you since you showed up at Chrissy’s place.” Tammy sneered. 

You blinked, brows furrowed, trying to lean in to hear the conversation. Eddie’s body tilted, trying to shield you out of the way. 

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded, taking a slow inhale to calm his racing mind, spiraling at the memory of her, Tammy’s words, you behind him. The trilling ring made its way back into his ears, vision spotting with a black vinaigrette. 

“So how is Chrissy?” Tammy’s eyes slanted in a predatory challenging glare. 

Eddie swallowed, fists balling beside him. “I don’t know, Tammy.” He sneered through his own gritted teeth. “She dumped me. I’m sure you know that-” 

“-Yeah, I heard that.” Tammy scoffed. “But what I think is so strange, is right after she packs up and leaves? To go stay with her aunt?” 

“I’m sure her parents made her go to college up there. That’s all they wanted for her anyways.” Eddie snapped, much more territorial than he meant it to. Your heart dropped at his tone, the anger in his eyes, jaw clenched. Taking a step back, you moved back into the crowd, chest tightening, desperate for air. 

Eddie’s eyes cut to you, stepping towards you. Tammy sidestepped in his way, blocking him. “Cut the bullshit, Munson. I know you did something to her.” 

“What?” Eddie snapped. “Can you leave me-” 

“-No. She moves and doesn’t tell anyone? You expect me to believe that? Buy that bullshit?” 

“Maybe she didn’t like you, Tammy.” Eddie barked, eyes blown with a crazed anger that had her flinching. “Maybe you two weren’t as fucking close as you thought? Huh?” Eddie took a step towards her. 

“And before you start accusin’ me of shit, why don’t you fuckin’ think about what you’re saying. You think her parents wouldn’t have called the police, led a fucking man hunt if she disappeared or something? Huh?” Eddie spat, heat creeping in a flush up his neck. His eyes cut to you, scampering towards the table, fumbling with your coat. 

Eddie’s heart lurched, turning back to Tammy. Ears ringing, seeing red- red all over her, splotchy on his vision. Her eyes wide in fear she tried to hide, rigid and cowering in the crowd over his looming figure. “Thought you were supposed to be smart. Valedictorian or whatever.” Eddie sneered in a scoff, stomping away from her. 

He tore through the crowds, uncaring of the huffs of anger or annoyance from the others. Tunnel visioned in a determined glare, set on you. You, spine stiff, stuttering steps towards the exit. 

Ruined. Ruined, it’s fucking ruined. Fucking Tammy, ruined everything. Everything you worked for, Munson. It’s over. Done. Again. 

“Hey,” Eddie took a bounding step towards you, heart hammering in his chest. Your shoulders tensed, not turning back. “Hey, where’re you going?” He tried to keep his voice light, void of the frantic tightness he was feeling in his chest. His hand touched your shoulder, pulling away when you flinched away.

Your eyes were blown, meeting his with a look of positive terror. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Sorry about that. She- We went to high school, and-and she was friends with my ex, a-and- Are you ok?” Eddie’s brows creased, cutting down to your trembling hands, shaking even in the tight knuckled grip around your jacket. 

“I-I I need to go outside.” You stammered, chest constricting your airways. “I just, I-I need some air.” 

“Ok. Let me grab my jacket and-” 

“-That’s alright.” You said quickly. “I just- I-I’m sorry.” Your chin ducked to your chest, you tore through the crowded tables, the gathering at the bar towards the exit. 

“Shit,” Eddie hissed, turning back to the high top you’d been sitting at, his leather jacket still on the back of the chair. He dashed towards the table, running through the bar, uncaring of the bouncer’s booming warnings, pushing out the doors. 

The parking lot was empty, no sight of you on the wall, next to the other smokers, or by his van. Eddie’s hands went to his hair, fists balling around the hair there. “Shit, shit, shit.” She’s gone. You scared another one away, Munson. No, I-I can’t. It can’t end like this. I won’t let it. I could go to her house, I-I’ll go to her house- And do what? Break in. How’d that work the last time, you fucking idiot- 

“Hey, man,” A bartender wearing the Hideout’s black tee called, smoke spilling out of his mouth with the words. “You lookin’ for a girl? She ran out here cryin.” 

Eddie’s heart leapt, nodding furiously. “Yeah, yeah, did you see her? Where’d she go?” 

The man nodded around the corner. “I asked her if she was alright, but… She seemed real upset. Didn’t want to make it worse.” His eyes rolled over Eddie’s figure. “You might wanna go check on her.” 

“I will. Thank you. Thank you.” Eddie’s legs felt like jelly, numb with every bounding step on the graveled pavement. He rounded the corner of the building, hearing you before he could see you. 

A shaky exhale, ghosting with the hint of a cry. He found you, back against the brick, sitting on the grass, head tilting up high, shoulders fighting the shake of a cry with every long inhale and deep exhale you took. 

Eddie stilled. He had to be careful, only one chance, one shot to fix this. 

“Hey,” Eddie said, wincing at how you jumped, eyes shooting open. “Hey, no, I-I didn’t mean to scare you. I-I was just coming to check on you.” 

Your eyes shone, lip wobbling with a cry. “I-I’m sorry.” You croaked, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

Eddie paused. Sorry? He had expected you to scream, to try and run, call him a freak like Chrissy had. Anything but sorry. 

“I-I’m sorry-y. I-I didn’t-” You gasped for a strangled breath. “I-I’m fine-” 

“-Hey,” Eddie crouched towards you, knees sinking in the cool grass beside you. “Are you ok? What’s going on?” 

Tears leaked down the corner of your eyes when you squeezed them shut, head shaking. “I-I’m sorry. I-I’m so s-sorry.” You sniffled, a broken, breathy cry tearing from your chest. 

“You don’t need to be sorry. Hey, c’mon, you-you gotta relax ok. Breathe? Can you- Can you breathe?” Eddie’s hand found your shoulder gently, rubbing the soft material of your shirt. “Just try to relax. Deep breaths, in. Innnn… Yeah, then outttt.” 

You followed his breaths, shoulders still shuddering under his touch even as your cries calmed, aftershocks of emotion he wasn’t sure where it came from. 

Eddie waited, watched you carefully until your eyes met his, sheepish and a little embarrassed, glassy from tears and the liquor you’d had. “You alright?” Eddie asked carefully, cringing at the way your shoulders tensed. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean for her to upset you.” 

You continued to breathe, eyes closing in controlled, timed breaths. Eddie’s own heart picked up. “I-I don’t know what you heard, b-but she’s full of shit, ya know? She’s always been just… She’s never liked me. Even in high school, she used to pick on me and shit. I-I didn’t- I don’t know why she did that tonight. Probably saw me with you, a-and wanted to start shit or-or whatever.” Eddie rambled anxiously. 

Your eyes met his, still rounded but less wide, lacking as much terror as they did before. “That’s why you yelled?” You asked. “That’s why you were upset?” 

“Yeah, I-I mean, yeah.” Eddie watched you carefully, studying every tiny quip in your features. “I-I shouldn’t have. I-I don’t normally get pissed like that, but… I don’t know. I just felt like I was back in high school, ya know?” Eddie sat next to you, his own head leaning against the brick. 

“Felt like they were just picking on the freak again because they can. Thought we’d leave that shit in highschool but… I don’t know. They never do.” Eddie sighed slowly, shoulders slumping next to yours. 

“I don’t… I don’t usually lose my shit like that. I try not to even give them a reaction, it’s just… My ex, she-she was friends with them. Popular and all that, and when we started dating, they’d just- they were so mean. They’d say stuff and-and she’d get embarrassed of-of me.” Eddie turned towards you, eyes soft, shining with a vulnerability that made your heart ache. 

“She never wanted people to know. Never wanted to be seen with me because they’d say mean shit like that. And I’d let them, I’d try to ignore it for her, but she… She couldn’t ignore it.” Eddie muttered. “She gave in. Broke up with me and started telling them all this crazy shit. Trying to cover up that… I don’t know- that we were actually together? That she wanted to date me. Easier to blame the freak than tell people we were together, I guess.” 

Your eyes met his, hesitantly. “I-I’m sorry.” You whispered, voice cracking. “That’s… That’s really mean.” 

Eddie shrugged. “Yeah, well, I’m used to it.” He muttered, looking down at the small patch of grass between the two of you. “Well, I guess I’m not as used to it as I thought I was.” Eddie muttered, eyes lifting to yours sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to cause a scene. To scare you. I-I would never-” 

“- No, I-I know.” You shook your head lightly. “I’m just… I get weird.” Your own chin ducked towards the ground. “I get weird with fighting and stuff.” 

Eddie stilled, watching you twist a blade of grass between your hands. “Guess we have the ex thing in common, too.” You muttered. “My ex-boyfriend… He’d get really mean sometimes. Just really angry.” 

I’ll kill him. Eddie swallowed down the threat- no, the promise. Swallowing back his fierce anger. 

“He-He never, like, hit me or anything, you know? It was weird, because there wasn’t any physical evidence or anything. I couldn’t go to the police for him yelling at me, but it just- it still really hurt.” Your voice cracked, lip wobbling at the memories. “That’s why I don’t talk to my parents. I moved with him, ignored them because they told me not to, and then… They were right, I guess. Just can’t really bring myself to call them and tell them that. Tuck my tail between my legs and go back. So I came here.” 

“I’m sorry.” Eddie whispered. Your eyes met his. “No, I-I’m sorry, that’s- I’m sorry.” Eddie said sincerely, his hand brushing over yours. 

“It’s okay-” 

“-It’s not, and… And I’m really sorry.” Eddie nodded gently. “I didn’t mean to yell. I shouldn’t have let her get to me-” 

“-No, Eddie, i-it’s fine, really-” 

“-I didn’t mean to ruin our date. End the night like this.” Eddie ran a hand down his face. “This is not- I’m sorry, I didn’t know it would end just fucked like this.” 

You paused for a moment, head still spinning with the liquor, with emotion, dizzily. You’d blame it on that, credit that dizziness for your courage. “It doesn’t have to end like this.” You whispered. 

Eddie stilled, eyes cutting to you carefully. You still toyed with the grass, eyes lifting sweetly to him. “We… We could go back to my place? I-I think I still have a movie I haven’t returned.” 

Eddie’s wheels squealed when they pulled out of the Hideout’s parking lot, desperately back to your apartment. 

Eddie was sure he was dreaming. Sitting on your couch, your apartment smelled just like he remembered, even better when you lit the candle on your coffee table, making a mental note of the name. He’d go buy it in bulk tomorrow, fill his apartment with them burning in every room just so he could feel closer to you. 

You’d moved into his lap halfway through the movie, inching closer with every passing frame of Julia Roberts and Patrick Bergine until you straddled him. Eddie burned under your gaze, your hands back on his shoulders, sliding slowly towards his neck. 

“Hi,” You whispered, tilting your head gently to the side, lip rolling beneath your teeth. 

“Hi,” Eddie croaked, swallowing the thick lump in his throat. 

“Is it ok if I do this?” You whispered, the glow of the TV illuminating your mussed hair. Eddie thought it looked like a halo, angelic above him. 

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded dumbly. C’mon, get your shit together. You’ve almost got it, Munson. 

His hands slid over your hips, setting on the small of your waist, where the band of your jeans hugged, squeezing the flesh gently, feeling you beneath his hands. You were really here, he was really here, with you. Living proof, right between his fingertips that this was no dream. 

You leaned forward, a hand brushing back his curly bangs. “What’s this?” You muttered, fingertip ghosting over the jagged scar across his forehead. 

“Bike wreck of seventy-six.” Eddie answered cooly, voice raspy and low in the dim light of your apartment. “Thought I could pop a wheelie on concrete. Didn’t go well.” 

“Hm,” You sighed, lips twitching in a small grin. “You were a little dare devil, hm?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. His hands slid down your waist, hoping you couldn’t feel his heart hammering. “Still can be, sometimes.” His lashes batted up at you, squeezing the fatty flesh of your ass. 

You squealed, Eddie’s heart leapt- he’d made the right move. Your eyes caught his, pinning him with your gaze, a delicacy of anticipation fell between the two of you. Who would break it? Make the first move? 

Eddie’s fingers pressed into your jeans, a hand sliding up your back, pressing to the middle of your spine, bowing you forward toward him. Your hand on his neck, fingers splaying out over his jaw, lips connecting in a sweet kiss. Eddie felt like he was melting, a warm, gooey puddle underneath you. 

Hands grabbing at the other, fevered and desperate, your hips rocking with his, brushing over his tenting zipper. Eddie could taste the wine on your lips, the glass of reisling you’d poured for the two of you before you’d put in the movie. “Since I killed the buzz before,” You’d shrugged at him sheepishly. He assured you, you hadn’t, still he was thankful for it, especially now. Now that he was loosened, far less critical of his every move. 

Fumbling hands that pulled at his t-shirt, your jeans, Eddie flipping you over on the couch, hovering over you on the faded floral pattern of the couch. “You- We don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” Eddie whispered, his hands still toying with the button of your jeans. “I don’t want you to think I-I, like, only wanted this. I don’t- I mean, I do, I just… I want you in other ways too.” 

You blushed, a sheepish smile under him. It was your turn to melt, to turn to putty under his gaze. “I know.” You whispered, black painted nails scratching down his forearms, over the etching of the puppet master. “I want to do this.” Your eyes lifted to his. “I trust you. I want to do this with you.” 

It was exactly what he wanted to hear, you knew that, the darkened grin on his face confirmed it further. Your own hands fumbling with your jeans, wiggling them down your thighs while Eddie tore his t-shirt off above you, flinging it onto the floor. 

You’d gone for a lacy, high cut thong tonight. Pale pink, frilly, if Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d think you planned this. That you planned to sleep with him. Maybe you thought about him the way he did you. Pictures of you flooded his mind, your hand sneaking between your thighs in the middle of the night, whimpering out his name. 

You didn’t expect Eddie to drop to his knees, pulling your body towards the end of the couch, thighs on his shoulders. He made a show of taking off your panties, a slow tug dragging them down your bare legs. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie rasped, heart beating in his ears. You giggled nervously, pressing your hands over your eyes. “Look at you.” 

“Stop.” You whined in playful embarrassment, thighs pressing together. 

“No, it’s- fuck.” Eddie swallowed his words, swallowed down the urge to tell you it was better than he imagined. Don’t be creepy, Munson. 

“I gotta have a taste. Can-Can I have a taste?” Eddie’s eyes rounded towards yours, bright with excitement. “That alright with you? Let me make you feel good? Have a little taste?” 

Your body burned, with lust maybe excitement, you weren’t sure. Your tiny nod was all he needed, spreading your thighs open, settling between your legs. You pushed up on your arms, looking down the valley of your sternum towards him. 

Plush lips pressing kisses to your thighs, a teasing kiss to your mound that had you whimpering, aching and pulsing between the legs. Eddie’s eyes stayed on yours as he licked a long, slow stripe through your slit. Better than he imagined, so much fucking better. 

Eyes rolling back, his fingertips dug into your thighs, nose pressed to your slick, he wanted to suffocate himself in your cunt. Better than anything he’d ever tasted before, he was a man starved, determined to devour you entirely- you were convinced he might. Teetering on the edge of experienced and enamored, your back arched, body twisting under his tongue. Whines and cries of pleasure filled the air, a crescendoing melody to the triumphant symphony Eddie was feeling in his veins, rushing with red hot pride. 

It was paradise, better than his wildest dreams. 

When you took him in your own mouth, sweetly grinning at him before giving a kitten lick to his leaking head, he was sure nothing would be better than this. This was his peak, everything he’d ever wanted and more. Better than Chrissy, than Tabitha, than anyone. 

You brought him to your room, let him press your thighs back, spread you open again. He couldn’t help the cry of pleasure that spilled out when he slid into you, it just felt so right. Beyond pleasure, though it was plenty pleasurable, it felt flawless, ethereal. 

Better than anything he could have imagined when he saw you weeks ago from his van, your car packed up full of boxes and suitcases tied on top. In a tiny pair of cut off shorts, moving everything in the warm sunshine. 

How was he to know that all those weeks ago, after he’d watched you apply for jobs at the diners and boutiques, that when he’d put a help wanted flier on your door for Turtle’s, that it would lead to this. His mind could have never dreamt this, that you’d be this perfect, fit so perfectly with him. 

No, this was fate, Eddie was sure of it. Cosmic fate. Chrissy and the others, they were only parading as the real thing, he’d just convinced himself it was when it was merely a disguise. But you, you were the real deal. Eddie decided it, when he settled in the sheets next to you, arms around your frame, staring out the window of your room. 

[futfemfantasies]

Would love one for Katrina gorry and blurb may e reader surprising katrina with a name change I'm back of her shirt to gorry and harper has a mascot

name changes \\ Katrina Gorry x Matildas!reader

Walking into the locker room with Harper on your hip, you see it. Your jersey number with your semi new last name. No one knew of the change except for coach and officials. Not even your wife who’s watching on the other side of the world with your son and friends. Everyone walks in and mentions the change on your shirt. It puts a smile on your face. Harper sits and watches Bluey while you and your teammates get ready. Lineups are called and Harper puts the phone away to walk with you.

“Is mama sad?” Harper questions as you walk out with her on your hip and a tear of joy escapes your eye.

“No baby, mama is very happy”

“Why you cry den?”

“It’s happy tears bubba”

The stadium erupts as the starting line ups are announced and you new name gets called out for the first time.

Back home, Katrina watches the match with a couple of your fellow Aussies who are injured and they all have a shocked expression across their faces. As the game starts and you start getting the ball, Katrina still finds it weird that when the commentators say Gorry and it’s not referring to her. Faint cries ring through the baby monitor and Katrina quickly goes and checks on Koby. Once he’s settled, Katrina races back out to see you’ve scored. You jumped in front of the camera and do a baby celebration with a hand heart. Katrina tears up and sits back down next to Sam who comforts her.

The matches finishes and you grab Harper before walking around the stadium. You get pulled aside for an interview and you are mentally groaning but it’s with one of your old teammates so it’s bearable.

“Tell me why the name change on your jersey today?” Before you could even speak, Harper jumps the gun.

“For mama, mummy loves mama!” Laughing besides Harper, you shake your head and know she’s gonna take over the interview. Which the fans would love.

“How important to you was it to change your name tonight?”

“I’m going to be wearing Katrina and my last name from now on at Arsenal and internationally so I thought I’d start tonight. I want to make not only Katrina proud but the family proud. I’m so proud to have this last name that I want to show that”

A few more questions were asked before the interview finished and you put Harper down to run around with Harley. After signing and giving away your jersey and boots, you scoop up Harper and get back to the locker room. You all gather your things and decide to shower back at the hotel.

A long 27 hours later, you and your Arsenal teammates arrive back in north London and you and Harper were the first ones to be dropped off. Harper gave everyone a hug and ran up the stairs to a waiting Katrina and Koby. You follow suit and give Katrina a kiss before taking your boy from her.

Suitcases dumped at the front door and Katrina took Harper up for a sleep. You stayed downstairs on the couch playing with your favourite little man. Katrina came back and cuddled up to your side, pulling you closer after a week of not seeing you. You kiss the top of her head and sigh as this is your life now and you wouldn’t change it for anything.

“I saw the interview about the name change, I love you so much and you make me and everyone proud anytime you step on the pitch” Katrina beamed up at you.

“You make me proud too my love”