#which is probably a better title

[sysig]

You're still standing off to the side. Somehow, center stage has shifted from under your feet without you realizing, and you're standing in the wings, performing to no one.

Starring Role (Patreon)

[oifaaa]

How is Bruce doing in the Jason lives au?

I means it's Bruce so even if Jason didn't die I'm sure he'll still manager to get worse just means he can't blame it on Jason's death in this universe

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Shadowstruck: Chapter One

The room had too many shadows. They filled the corners of Mama’s sick room, where heavy velvet curtains blocked the noise of passing carriages. They stretched from her bedposts, from the doctor’s medicines and instruments sitting next to the kerosene lamp on her bedside table. Sometimes one looked alarmingly human-shaped, and Clara feared the worst, until she saw the faint flickering heartlight around Mama’s form.

Mama’s heartlight, usually a bright, cheerful yellow, had faded to the color of old paper, barely visible in that dim room. Clara’s heartlight, as always, matched it to a shade, which made her feel like she was dying, too.

In Clara’s twelve years of life, she could barely remember spending more than an hour away from her mother. Mama had been her playmate, her caretaker, her teacher, her greatest friend.

Clara held Mama’s hand between both of hers, trying to rub some warmth into the cold fingers. Suddenly, Mama’s heartlight flared like a camera bulb. Her eyes flew open and she clutched at Clara’s arms. “Jeff!” she cried, as if watching him drown. “Jeff!”

Dr. Chambers' nurse rushed from her shadowed corner to Mama’s bedside; her comforting lavender heartlight glowed faintly around Mama’s head as she tried to calm her. “Your husband is well, Mrs. Lynwood. You should rest.”

Mama pushed away the nurse’s hands. “Where’s Jeff? I must speak to him!”

Neither Clara nor the nurse could quiet her, so at last the nurse called for the shade.

The boy--who seemed to be a year or two younger than Clara--looked pale and harmless, but he gave Clara the shivers. Papa didn't keep any shades--had never let any in the house until the nurse insisted she needed the extra hands--so this one, casting a shadow instead of a heartlight, looked like an unnatural intruder in this civilized room.

The nurse ordered the shade to fetch Papa from the Senate. The moment he left the room, Mama fell back against the pillows, exhausted.

Clara shuddered as the boy's long, black shadow slithered down the hallway before him. “Papa won’t come with a shade,” she said.

“He’ll come for your mother,” the nurse replied.

And the nurse was right. Papa burst into the room minutes later, the black sash of his senatorial robe still waving behind him, his orange heartlight as strong and vibrant as he was.

Jefferson Lynwood looked nothing like a famed, formidable senator as he rushed to kneel beside his wife's bed.

“I’m here, Minna!” he said, taking her hand.

Mama’s heartlight was dimmer than Clara had ever seen it, but her eyes were wide open and her whisper was strong. “Promise me, Jeff. No matter what happens, promise me you will care for Clara.”

Papa cast a quizzical glance at Clara. Clara didn’t understand it any more than he did. She was much younger than her brothers, and Papa stayed busy with senatorial work, but he was still as fond a father as she could ask for.

“Of course I will, darling,” Papa soothed. “You’ve nothing to worry about.”

Mama gripped his shoulders and looked into his face. “No matter what happens,” she insisted. “Promise me you will care for her as your daughter.”

“I would never do anything less.”

“Swear it!”

“I swear it, Minna, on my own right hand.”

Mama fell back against her pillows, satisfied. She was asleep within moments.

Papa shared a look with Clara. “Do you understand it, Clara?” His mustache twitched. “Has she given you reason to think you’re not--”

“No. Never.”

Papa shook his head. “Probably raving. Chambers warned me that might happen, near the end.” Papa scowled back at the doorway. “Probably comes of being around shades. I told Chambers I didn’t want those creatures near her!”

Clara had heard all his lectures about the dangers of shades—how they were soulless, shadow-casting creatures who fed off the heartlights of humans. Shades looked human-shaped to Clara, and Mama urged her to treat them with respect, but she never argued with Papa. Right now, Clara wasn’t sure she wanted to. The doctor kept a few shades as house slaves like most people did; Clara hadn’t thought anything of it when he left one to assist the nurse, but what if they were what kept Mama from getting well? The doctor had said that he couldn’t understand why she was fading—she should easily have been able to easily overcome this cold.

For the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, neither Clara nor Papa left Mama’s side. Mama never opened her eyes. Her breathing became harsher, but none of the nurse’s medicines helped. Sometimes she stopped breathing for almost a minute, but the continued glow of her heartlight assured Clara she yet lived.

Clara cried—she couldn’t help it. Sometimes Papa did, too. They both loved Mama. Without her, what would their little family become?

At last, Mama gasped, gave one last deep breath—then stopped. Her face went still and icy white. Her heartlight went out like a snuffed candle.

At the exact same moment, so did Clara’s. Her yellow heartlight—the comforting ever-present glow that was her—disappeared.

On the wall, black and menacing in the light of the kerosene lamp, stretched her shadow.

It looked exactly like a shade’s.

[sentientcave]

Mood board for my latest project. Little bit of it below the cut.

You eat the lunch you packed and pull off your sweater, the noon sun warming you up enough to not need it, at least for the moment. You putt along to a new spot and try fishing again, this time catching three good sized fish. Surprising, considering the time of day, but sometimes you get lucky. You're thinking about heading back home when you spot a flash of white under the water.

You grab your camera, determined to be ready. And then a grey shape launches out of the water and into your boat, nearly capsizing it. The white orca sluices through the water next to your boat a moment later, regarding you disdainfully with one bloodshot eye. He flicks his tail as he dives again, soaking you and your passenger.

Your seal friend makes himself comfortable at the prow of the boat, entirely too pleased with himself.

"You're on thin ice, mister!" You tell him, turning back the way you'd come. Thanks to him you missed your photo and nearly went for a swim in deep water. You're pretty sure he couldn't help you out of that situation even if he wanted to, especially with a hunter swimming just below. You certainly don't want four inch teeth biting you in half.

Of course, you don't want to see your friend get eaten in front of you either. You know its the way of the ocean, but he's your little buddy.

The white orca cuts across your path again. You stop your engine, heart hammering, and grab your camera. He disappears into the depths for a moment, and then jumps a little ways away. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he was showing off. You get several quick snaps that you know will be gorgeous— Water droplets catching the sun, his ghostly white body stark against the backdrop of the dark ocean. You grin at the seal, and yelp when something thumps the bottom of your boat, rocking it harshly.

Then the white orca (he needs a name, so you land on Ghost) surfaces next to you, terrifyingly close, and spits water at the seal.

“Holy shit,” you breathe, adjusting your lens for the close contact, camera shutter clicking away as you shoot pictures. Ghost eyes you, and then spits water a second time. The seal looks deeply offended, but not concerned, even with his hunter bobbing in the water a few feet away. “Aren’t you a pretty boy.”

He is pretty. A juvenile, maybe, now that you see him up close— He’s a bit small for an orca, but he’s all alone out here, no pod to speak of, and a juvenile wouldn’t survive on it’s own. As if he can hear your compliment, he creaks at you.

The seal barks back. He seems offended by Ghost’s presence. Understandable, since Ghost was trying to eat him earlier. You get a few funny snaps of the two of them regarding each other over the rim of the boat, having a conversation that you have no way of understanding. You feel a bit insane. A bit like you’re going to wake up laying in the bottom of your boat any minute, and this will all be a funny dream.

[quatregats]

ok I am soso tempted to request "all of them hornblowers" BUT I shall leave some for the rest of the curious crowd, AND I am very curious about worship the ashes? That sounds metal af!

Oh, that's a crossover between the Aubreyad and Yoon Ha Lee's Machineries of Empire series! I've posted snippets of it before, it is honestly probably abandoned since if I do ever write a crossover of those two it'll have to be Lucky Unlucky Book 13, but I am always down to post things that are not at all propaganda for Machineries of Empire (seriously, if you like messed up guys, interesting quandaries about bringing down empires, and really good worldbuilding, I'd highly recommend). For context, this is a rewrite of one of my favorite sections of The Surgeon's Mate, right before Grisholm (I'll leave the MoE stuff Yoon-Ha-Lee-style - no explanation, just throwing you in the deep end <3):

Jack sat back in his chair, and there was a long silence. It was a strange thing, this mission—full of heretical propositions and Shuos games which went strongly against his Kel temperament. However, it was not the tricks and heresy that bothered him; it was Stephen. Jack was Kel as anyone who wore that black-and-gold uniform, and as such sacrificing himself came as second nature, but he did not like to see Stephen do the same. It was as though he were pulling on black gloves—it did not fit him. And as unnatural as it was to see him as a suicide hawk to begin with, there was something even more unnerving about the way he went about it: fading away into cold nothingness rather than burning brightly, as the Kel motto would have it. Jack did not like it at all.

Stephen had been correct in his assessment, though; Jack had not slept that night, nor for the past several days, because when he had closed his eyes, he had found himself falling asleep to disturbing visions of twining roses and vines. The flowers, particularly, had haunted his sleep ever since the Nirai in Engineering had shown him the Hafn casket—a moth in name but little else—a week before. She had explained how it relied on human, animal, and plant life to produce the correct Hafn formants, key to the mission’s success, but although she claimed that they had found a way to produce the formants and power the craft without damaging the person inside, he still felt an unshakeable conviction that the heretical technology would not be contained in its hunger. He shuddered even now to think of it; he could not imagine that Stephen would willingly climb into it, even with the mission at hand.

“You did make sure that the banners were correct?” Stephen asked, and Jack broke out of his reverie. “The red- and yellow-striped one, whatever objections you might have.”

“No objections at all,” Jack said, as though he and Stephen had not had a lively discussion about the dangers of foreign mechanics and unorthodox calendrical spikes when the subject had first been broached. He did not have it in him to have that discussion now, though; not when the matter was so close at hand, and Stephen’s departure imminent. A sudden wave of feeling and affection washed over him, and he reached out to try to take Stephen’s hand. “Listen, Stephen—”

“We still haven't played the gavotte, you know,” Stephen said abruptly. “There's a bit of time before I leave.”

“So we haven’t. After high table, perhaps.”

“That would suit,” Stephen said, nodding. He did not smile, though. He merely stared into the distance like a man long gone.

[tangledinink]

I daydream about Gemini AU and one idea I had was that after leaving the Nexus and becoming slightly less codependent, the twins take up independent titles? Like, instead of both being Gemini, Leo becomes Meteor and Donnie becomes Nova or some other astrological name. Not very likely, considering they both seem to be genuinely proud of being Gemini together despite everything, but I thought I'd share this with you.

Oooh, this is kind of a fun thought? Also I'm just absolutely flattered that you daydream about Gemini the idea that there are other people in the world spending time thinking bout my silly turtles absolutely baffles me ; w ; On one hand, I feel like they, at least currently, love being Gemini and sharing a title. They're so incredibly proud of their career as Gemini. But once they leave the Nexus and stop being so codependent, I think they're probably gonna be a lot more likely to sort of... recognize it for what it is? Something used to manipulate them and a part of their mother's attempts to capitalize off of them and control them. And it'll be very hard, because they are Gemini, it's such a huge part of their identity, how do they let that go...? But at the same time, how can they still be Gemini and heal at the same time?

In addition to this, there'll be at least a period where they... aren't performers anymore. (Which is gonna be super hard for them to cope with as well...) If they're not longer fighting in the Nexus, what use do they actually have for a stage name? Why have people call them anything but Donatello or Leonardo...?

(... But I think there will come a time when they eventually pick up an alias again. And I really like the idea of them each having their own names, but still matching...!)

[batsplat]

so i’m kinda new to motogp, i started watching it from this season and your account has been very helpful. i have a question, i’ve seen a post on insta where they were comparing marc and pedro results from the first race to the fifth races (i think?) in their rookie year. and a lot of people in the comments where talking about the fact that you cannot compare their results because they’re two whole different situations. but are they? ‘cause at the start of the season everybody was calling pedro the next marquez and a lot of motogp legends were talking about how talented he’s. which i’m not entitled to discuss. but if you compare the results, i wouldn’t say pedro’s season is disappointing (because it’s still early and he has two podiums), but i think it’s pehraps underwhelming compared to marc’s. so what i’m trying to understand is why are their situations considered different and why some people kind of “discredit” marc rookie season when they compare it to acosta’s? (like i thought that winning a title in you rookie year was the most impressive thing you could do)

welcome to the sport, and that's really nice to hear!!

so, I did do my 'comparing between eras is impossible' thing here, but obviously this isn't particularly useful. I'll get over myself and give you a proper answer, but fwiw I still believe that direct parallels can only ever be of limited use. here's a few things to keep in mind when comparing the two:

factory vs satellite: factory teams will always have at least a little bit of an advantage over the satellite squads. even if it's not in equipment... it's also just about the amount of resources that are being mobilised to help you get your results, the experience of your team, etc etc. now, I put this first because I don't think this is a massive factor here. ktm's whole thing is that they want to essentially run four factory bikes, see the rebrand next year, and obviously they're very motivated to help pedro out. I'm sure he's getting a lot of backing - in terms of historical comparisons, it's a bit more valentino 2000 than it is casey 2006

bike quality: the honda in 2013 was the best bike on the grid. pedro's ktm is... well it's certainly not in the top four. after that, the pecking order does get a little tricky, but it's certainly not decisively clear of either the aprilias or the gp23's. we do know pedro basically has equal machinery to the other ktm's. now, those are the first riders he has to beat... and he's beating them! going into this year, binder was getting top three rider on the grid shouts and pretty much everyone thought he'd be outscoring acosta at least in the first year (not me tho <3). I think these acosta performances have sparked a bit of a debate over 'was the ktm better than we thought all along and the riders were just being overrated, or is acosta just that good'... makes it kinda easy to forget how people talked about binder last year. but crucially even people who rated pedro very highly generally didn't think he'd have the upper hand this soon. pedro is p5 in the standings (behind three gp24's and marc marquez), versus the other ktm's at p7, p...16? jesus. and p17. marc's teammate in 2013 was p3. now, yes, nobody is saying binder is as good as dani pedrosa and he's been having a very rocky season - but at least some of binder's issues seem to be bike-related... definitely a bike that seems to have some serious gremlins and pedro needs to be credited for mitigating those. also, this is an era in which the bikes are more complicated than ever and generally considered to be even trickier to adapt to than in times past, which makes pedro's immediate consistent pace pretty much everywhere, every session particularly noteworthy

spread of field: related to the previous point - not only is pedro's bike worse, but the field as a whole is more competitive. in 2013, if you weren't on one of four bikes, it was going to be really hard for you to fight for wins. in 2024, there are a lot of bikes capable of fighting for wins, and you see that in how mixed up the order is race to race. it's just a different era... from around 2007 to 2015, there was a clear disparity between a few bikes and the rest, enabled both through technical regulations and other external factors (e.g. the impact of the financial crisis and smaller teams struggling as a result). the average level of the field is also higher nowadays, there's a lot of very strong riders - which means if you're having a slightly rougher weekend, your floor is considerably lower and you will have to accept you might not be in the podium fight at all. the margins are smaller now in both qualifying and in races... small swings of performance in both bike and rider can have way more dramatic repercussions

the eye test: for obvious reasons this one's a bit harder to put words to. but... pedro just passes it, with flying colours. it's the way he throws himself around on the bike, the obscene amounts of lean angle, the ridiculously late braking and the way he somehow still gets the bike turned, how he keeps taking lines that nobody else is taking, how it's allowing him to fight his way through the field (notoriously tough in motogp these days)... in the same way in which marc in 2013 was clearly just riding differently to all the other riders that preceded him, you see this stuff with pedro, you see he's the next step. you can tell he's just got that special something that allows him to do stuff with his bike that nobody else can. also, this isn't quite the same as rating his rookie season, but obviously everyone already knew what a hyped prospect pedro was headed into this year. he hasn't shown any sign whatsoever of succumbing to the hype/pressure and letting it get to him, which is also a great sign for the future

how good his results are: so, obviously he hasn't won a race yet - even though he's now secured multiple podiums. but again, unlike with marc''s 2013 there is no single weekend in which the ktm has been the strongest bike. sometimes it's been a bit closer and sometimes it's a little further away... yes, pedro has started making a couple of mistakes, but also that may just be the result of putting the bike in places it doesn't really belong. marc only had one race crash in the rookie season, but he also knew he couldn't afford to make mistakes - he was in the title fight. pedro is playing around with a worse bike and if he thinks he has the pace to win, it makes sense for him to just push that little bit extra, come what may. it's now been quite a few weekends since pedro hasn't decisively been the best ktm on pace - and, really, what more can you ask for? unless binder's suddenly forgotten how to ride a bike, it's reasonably likely that the ktm is at least a little worse than it was last year, which makes these results even more impressive

the rookie title question: yes, a rookie title is uniquely impressive! it's a particularly tricky situation to deal with... marc really had to be operating on a very high very consistent level that entire year, and in no way should it be diminished what kind of performances he had to put in week to week to claim that title. (though, of course, marc did get a little bit lucky that year, in particular with his rivals' injuries.) the thing is, we'll never know if pedro would manage the pressures and travails and ebbs and flows of a title fight in his rookie season as well as marc did... because he hasn't had the opportunity to fight for it. we just don't know! which makes it a bit hard to penalise pedro for not being able to match that... you just have to find a happy middle ground where you acknowledge how impressive marc's title was, while also allowing that on pure performance pedro might be shaping up as every bit as impressive

marc is very marmite in most online motogp fan spaces, whether those detractors are partisan valentino fans or think he's too aggressive for their tastes or don't particularly fondly remember his dominance or just don't like his vibe... so I'm sure there's plenty of people on instagram who would like to discredit him!! but I don't think calling pedro's rookie season comparable should in any way be used to discredit marc - the only point is that if you look at his current performances, it's completely plausible to believe he can match/surpass marc in the future. what he's doing right now is really impressive! it's not quite the same headline numbers, but there's weekends where he's quite plausibly on. like. the joint 12th best bike or something. so it really is all very tight and he is doing very well! but also you can't compare eras and all of these comparisons easily break down and sometimes you can just treat two things as separately impressive without attempting to definitively determine which is 'better', especially in motorsports where so much isn't determined by the actual athlete themselves and instead by factors they have zero control over

[jichanxo]

made a tierlist of my kuwagami fics for funsies (+ notes for a few) ↓

(everything listed in the same tier are equals, so the order they're listed in has no meaning)

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Where The River Meets The Soul

cosy-ish fantasy, romance

follows a herbalist who decides to find a magical bloom with healing properties which has become rare in recent years, after her sister is diagnosed with a terminal illness

she travels to the city, and along with a friend and an heiress, discovers that reuniting two reincarnated ancient soulmates will restore the bloom

but when she encounters corruption and betrayal, and finds herself getting feelings for one of the soulmates, things get more complicated

ace MC, genderfluid LI

[fierykitten2]

Disclaimer: the images in this post are arranged in a way so that the Scarlet images are all on the left and the Violet images are all on the right. Obviously I only took on the Academy Ace Tournament in one version at a time

Took on the Academy Ace Tournament in both versions and here were my opponents in the order battled (apart from the fact the Scarlet images are all on the left and the Violet images are all on the right). I’ve learned two things from this - 1 is that Miriam can be the first opponent (like in Scarlet) or the 3rd opponent (like in Violet). She has the same lines in both positions. The second is that Nemona can actually be battled in this tournament (genuinely she’s never appeared to me in this in Violet and I haven’t had the chance for her to appear in this in Scarlet up until now). Also her Pokémon don’t have an order they’re sent out apart from her starter being her final Pokémon and probably her leading with Lycanroc (I remember Orthworm being her penultimate Pokémon in Scarlet because Luna was struggling and nearly cried so I swapped it out for Blueberry only to bring Luna back against her ugly croc (I had every wish to send out Quax or keep Blueberry out instead but I had plans involving Terastalising every single one of my aces and I’d already used Quax against Tyme and Blueberry against Penny. I also kinda wanted Clavell to be my last opponent in Violet so I could beat the shit out of that ugly croc twice in one day but I got Nemona with her fabulous gay duck instead) but she sent Orthworm out really early on against me in Violet. Also Dudunsparce I think was her 2nd Pokémon in Scarlet but her penultimate Pokémon in Violet). Oh yeah the third thing I learnt (or possibly fourth) is that Dark-types can cry. Both Luna and Spriggie nearly cried at some point (I returned Luna to its ball and took out Blueberry to deal with Orthworm and also use a full heal on Luna while Spriggie has a Shell Bell on him so he just gradually healed up as the battle continued and he kept taking out Raifort’s Pokémon)

My aces Terastalising for no reason other than it’s pretty. It’s hard to tell what’s going on in half these images so in order Fire Tera type Char (Armarouge), Fire Tera type Char (Ceruledge), Water Tera type Quax (Quaquaval), Grass Tera type Spriggie (Meowscarada), Water Tera type Blueberry (Walking Wake), Psychic Tera type Cherry (Iron Leaves), Dragon Tera type Luna (Roaring Moon) and Fighting Tera type Knight (Iron Valiant). Roaring Moon are honestly kinda ugly but somehow Luna got out-uglied by Nemona’s Skeledirge (okay that’s enough Skeledirge slander for one post)

Blueberry and Cherry making entrances in the third battles, the ones where they were the ones Terastalising

And of course my aces shouting after defeating their final opponents

As you can see, Liko’s Sprigatito and Dot’s Quaxly in both games have evolved into Liko’s Floragato and Dot’s Quaxwell. As much as I prefer their fully-evolved forms I want to wait a bit and use their middle stages so I haven’t allowed them to fully-evolve just yet

Still, because I chose Quax/Quaxly/Quaquaval in Scarlet and Spriggie/Sprigatito/Meowscarada in Violet I now have the Pokédex entries for Floragato in Scarlet and Quaxwell in Violet

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

so on one hand I could name the harrison story ‘lost gods’ & on the other I could name the story ‘tell me, I pray, your name’ << YOU CHOOSE

[elytrafemme]

okay i actually have an insane amount of work to get done but to lovepost about my college best friend RQ bc since coming to college and realizing that i actually escaped the borderline unlivable conditions of my high school life i realized i'm actually really talkative (crazy that you talk a lot when people listen LMFAO) and my poor friend has had to hear like SO much shit about dan and phil. and with the other folks i talk about them to they already know who dan and phil are but my best friend never got into them and he knows the Era but it was never up his alley and yet he's been. so patient to me as i like ramble to him about the Dan is leaving me video for the thirtieth time... sometimes there is joy in being annoying Sometimes there is joy in knowing your friends don't care about WHAT youre saying but just care that you're saying it. idk i love him

[bugwolfsstuff]

I have a 2 hour History exam and a 2 hour English exam tomorrow so i should probably study but

I dont wanna

[iwasntplanningonlikingkpop]

My Top 10 K-Pop Songs of 2024

Check out my top 10 non-k-pop songs HERE

Blush - WOOAH

Virtual Angel - ARTMS

Bahama - Aespa

Tap - Taeyong

Sugar Rush - BIBI

Magnetic - ILLIT

Chiyu - TripleS

Cheeky Icy Thing - STAYC

Balloon In Love - Sunmi

Cosmic - Red Velvet

Honorable Mention: J-Pop Song: Underground - F5ve

Honorable Mention: English/Spanish Idol Song: New Woman - Lisa

[rafeysbunny]

‧₊˚ ⋅ i'll show you, rafe cameron

stepbro!rafe x fem!reader

masterlist

synopsis. in which your stepbrother kindly offers to show you porn for the first time.

warnings. stepbro!rafe, innocent!reader (but she's not an airhead), virgin!reader, smut, fingering, rafe putting in just the tip, oral sex (fem receiving), rafe licks his own creampie.

word count. 4k.

author's note. idea by @matts1andonly. english isn't my first language so there might be spelling mistakes, don't hold it against me. enjoy!

it's past midnight when you finally slide out of your bedroom without making a sound. you have been waiting patiently for your mom and ward to go to bed so you can do this without risking getting caught. wheezie is already asleep too, sarah is out with john b somewhere, and rafe left the house earlier, not telling anyone where to, so you know he's going to arrive late, as always.

it's the perfect moment.

rafe's room is down the hallway, so you make your way there quietly not to wake anyone, your barefoot feet making soft footstep sounds when you walk. once there, you open the door as carefully as you possibly can, knowing it creaks every time it gets open. this time, thanks to god, it does not.

you manage to sneak into the dormitory unnoticed, then shut the door behind you. the place is dark, only a faint glimmer of moonlight coming in through his curtains, but you want to lay low, so you don't turn on the lights. by all means, the dim lighting is enough for you to spot what you're looking for.

rafe's mac, laying there on his desk.

what's the point behind all of this? you might be wondering. well, let me answer you real quick. turns out, this handsome, muscled college guy has invited you on a date. problem is, you have never been on a date. you haven't even hold hands with a guy romantically before, much less kissed or fucked one. you simply refuse to come off as a prude, which honestly you are, but that dream of a man doesn't need to know that.

and that's why you have decided that it is a good idea to break into your stepbrother's bedroom and borrow his laptop, since yours broke last week, to watch porn in it for the first time.

well, now that you hear it out loud, it probably sounded better in your head. anyways...

you stroll towards the desk with languid steps and sit down on rafe's chair, small hands reaching hesitantly to open the laptop. you turn it on and the screen light illuminates your pretty face right away. you swear your fingers are shaking a little bit as you open up the browser and type 'porn videos' on the search bar.

somehow, you feel like you are doing something wrong, and you can't seem to shake the guilt away. either way, you don't back out. you click the enter button and, after just a few seconds, a million search results pop up. honestly, you don't know where to start, so you click on the first one, which redirects you to a website called pornhub.

the home page is full of videos, the first thing to catch your attention being the obscene thumbnails of each one of them. your cheeks flush a deep shade of red. you read some of the titles as you bite your lip nervously, realising most of them contain the word 'stepsister' in them, and you wonder if that is the only content posted on this page.

how innocent of you not to know that the website is making recommendations based on your stepbro's most searched tag.

before things escalate further, you spot rafe's airpods max sitting there on the desk and decide to grab them, connecting them to the laptop and putting them on —this way you can make sure no one overhears anything. after that, you spend a few more minutes scrolling through the page, during which you discover that there's a ton of categories to choose from.

how are you supposed to know which one to pick?

you are so invested in your little research, headphones canceling the noise, that you don't hear neither rafe opening the front door nor him walking up the stairs and, surely, don't notice him standing behind you until he speaks. and it's too late by then.

"the fuck are you doing, sweetheart?" he blurts, complete and utterly shocked to see his naive stepsister fuckin' watching pornhub.

well shit, maybe you aren't as innocent as he thought you were.

you jolt instantly, jumping out of your seat as you feel all the colour draining from your cheeks. no way rafe just caught you in the act. this can't be real. despite how bad you want to run away, you are left with no other choice but to turn around and face him, wishing the earth would swallow you up.

"i– this is not what it looks like, i swear i can explain," you stutter nervously, taking of the airpods with trembling hands. from here on, the anxious rambling begins, "i wasn't doing anything... this guy– well, i... i uhm– i got a date, 'kay? with this guy from class and– listen, i know this is silly, but..."

"jesus christ, baby, slow down, 'kay?" he stops you, his heart nearly melting from how cute you look, so shy and flustered. he almost feels bad for interrupting whatever the hell you were doing here.

the colour has returned to your cheeks, and you are all flushed now, from head to toe. your face feels like it's on fire; you have never been this embarrassed before.

"could you please start over?" he asks, hoping to hear a coherent explanation to why you are in his room, in the middle of the night, and watching porn on his laptop.

you take a deep breath, fidgeting with the hem of your top. you are so deeply ashamed that you don't seem to remember that you are wearing nothing but a flimsy white singlet and a tiny pair of matching panties. rafe's very aware of that fact, though, hungry eyes trailing all over your beautiful body.

"i've got a date with a guy from class," you start explaining, white teeth nibling occasionally on your plump bottom lip, "but i've never dated anyone, ya' know? i've no experience, and i don't want him to think i'm pathetic if we..."

"fuck?" he finishes your sentence, a roguish grin spreading across his handsome face.

if possible, your blush deepens even more at the vulgarity while you mutter a quiet 'yeah' in response.

honestly, he is a bit jealous of that guy. not only you are willing to let him fuck you, but you are also trying to learn how to do it properly so he has a good time doing it. yeez, what a shame for him he is going to kill him as soon as he finds out who he is; there's no chance rafe's letting you near any other man but him.

"i thought, uhm, maybe watching that would help..." you add coyly, his silence making you more nervous.

it is cute how you try to avoid saying words like 'fuck' or 'porn', like it is a crime to pronounce them or something.

"you know what? let's watch it together," he proposes.

there's a mischievous glint in his eyes that doesn't go unnoticed. you swear your cheeks might just explode at any second, and you can't help the pathetic stutter that comes out when you talk. "uhm, i don't think that'd be appropriate," you refuse, shaking your head.

"why not? you want help, and i can help you here, sweetheart," he answers, his voice surprisingly soft and gentle —unlike rafe, "that's what big brothers are for, aren't they?"

he takes a few steps in his direction until he is standing right beside you. then, he grabs the laptop in his large hands as he flashes you a wicked smirk, his curtain bangs falling messily on his forehead. you gulp, having him so close makes you feel a certain way; you cannot deny that.

"you, uhm, being my stepbrother is exactly why not," you stammer as you tilt your head back to look at him, his height towering over you.

"bullshit," he retorts, huffing. "you trust me?"

your first mistake is, probably, trusting rafe cameron. "yeah, i do, but..."

"that's why 'm perfect for the job, baby," he interrupts you. his words are clearly intended to manipulate you, but you are way too innocent to notice it, "i'm probably the guy you feel most comfortable with, aren't i? i can give ya' all the advice you need."

to be fair, he isn't wrong about that. you don't have any male friends, and you are honestly too embarrassed to ask your girlfriends for help on this department, not wanting them to think less of you. plus, rafe is a guy; he knows better what guys like, right?

"wouldn't it be kinda... weird ?" you ask, clearly hesistant.

"weird?" he repeats. "no, 'course not."

only a few more sweet, reassuring words is all it takes for him to gently coax you into watching his favourite pornos with him. his cock starts to harden in his pants just at the thought of having you like that. when you finally accept, he swears he's on cloud nine.

god, he's been wanting you for months now; he can't believe this is happening.

"c'mere, baby," he eagerly instructs you, getting on his bed.

he sits with his back resting on the headboard and pats the spot between his legs to invite you to sit there. he places the laptop next to him, the pornhub website still open on it. you move slowly towards him, cheeks slightly flushed from the embarrassment as you settle on the mattress in between his parted thighs, your back pressed to his hard chest.

he wraps one strong arm securely around your waist, his hand coming to rest gently on your tummy. with his other hand, he reaches for the laptop sitting beside him, carefully bringing it closer so the two of you can see the screen properly.

your heart is beating so fast in your chest that he can probably hear it, too. the way he is touching you is not making it easier for you to stay calm, either, his fingers tenderly tracing patterns on your belly over the thin fabric of your shirt while he scrolls through the page.

he seems to sense your discomfort and chuckles low in his throat, his warm breath tickling your ear. "relax, sis," he whispers teasingly, his voice laced with amusement. "i'm not gonna make you watch anything that'll traumatize you."

"it's just– this is a bad idea," you babble, fidgeting nervously when he finally clicks on a video and a pretty young woman appears on screen.

the actress is beautiful; she has a gorgeous body and face. her lips are full and pink, and she has these big, expressive eyes that appear to gleam. and you don't realize it, but she looks exactly like you.

the scene starts playing; in it, the girl is watching some movie with a guy that, apparently, is her roommate —at least that's what the title says.

"shhh..." he hushes you softly, his voice barely audible over the sounds emanating from his laptop's speakers. "just watch. don't overthink it."

"okay," you answer between gritted teeth.

your pretty eyes are fixed on the laptop while you try not to cringe at how bad the script and acting are, which is nearly impossible, to be honest. despite that, you keep watching in silence as the video plays, growing more flustered as the clock ticks.

you didn't know mouths could be used for that... interesting.

as opposed to you, rafe's pretty chill behind you, like he's unbothered by this whole situation —he's actually hard as fuck inside his pants, the thing is you haven't noticed. you wonder how he can act so unfazed, since you keep pushing your thighs together to try and soothe the throbbing sensation building in between them while you take in the lewd actions occurring on screen.

you weren't expecting your body to have this reaction, and now you don't know what to do to make it stop.

rafe soon becomes aware of the way you keep letting out soft sighs and squirming in his arms, plush ass rubbing against his cock every time you do it. it's a miracle he is still holding back, though he doesn't know how much time he will be able to.

he's not even paying attention to the video anymore, his entire focus put on you. he finally ventures to lean in, his hot breath grazing the shell of your ear as he whispers, "you know, i could do that to you..." his hand slowly slides to your plush thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.

his movements are measured and controlled not to scare you, but your breath hitches in your chest at his actions either way, body tensing up in his grasp. your brain is telling you to push him away, but the insistent throb in your sex doesn't like that idea, not one bit.

"you– you could?" you utter quietly, not taking your eyes away from the laptop.

rafe notices the uncertainty in your voice, but the way you haven't pushed him away yet emboldens him to continue, his large hand gradually sliding north.

"yeah, baby," he murmurs huskily against your ear, fingertips brushing along your inner thigh. "i could put my fingers inside you, just like he's doing to her..."

his words make you blush heavily as a little gasp is released from your pouty lips. "would it feel good?" you ask naively.

your eyes are transfixed in the sight of the guy on the screen pushing his fingers inside the girl's pussy. god, she seems like she's enjoying it so much... and you desperately want to feel like that too. you can't even bring yourself to care that it's your stepbrother offering to show you.

rafe's fingers creep higher and higher until they're barely brushing against your cotton panties. "yeah," he growls huskily against your ear, "it'd feel real good, sweetheart. i promise..."

you shudder, a sweet little mewl escaping your throat involuntarily. you can't help but blush at your own reaction, slightly embarrassed by it. you tear your eyes away from the screen, head falling back against his chest as you look up at him.

"it's throbbing, rafe..." you whine, self-control slipping from your hands. "can you make it better?"

rafe's fingers finally make contact with your wet underwear, pressing against your clit through the fabric. he rubs gentle circles around your sensitive nub, his other hand curling around your supple thigh to spread your legs wider.

"oh, baby, you're soaked through your panties..." he pants out.

your body literally melts into his touch like butter, perfectly shaped brows knitting together in a frown of pleasure. the girl in the video moans, and you do too, both sounds echoing in the silence of his room.

taking your moan as an invitation, rafe carefully hooks his fingers in the gusset of your panties to push them aside, exposing your sopping cunt to the cool air of his bedroom. then, he traces your wet slit slowly, leisurely, as if savoring the velvety feel of your skin.

"such a pretty little pussy..." he praises, eyes hungrily taking in the pink expanse of flesh.

you squirm and let out a soft whimper, biting your lip right after to avoid keep making noises; the last thing you want is to wake up your parents or wheezie. rafe notices your struggle and swiftly reaches up to cover your mouth with his free hand, muffling your sweet moans.

he gathers some of the wetness dripping out of your cunt before trailing his fingers all the way up to your clit, rubbing it gently. your eyes roll back, hips bucking up against his hand instinctively. the way your swollen bud throbs beneath his fingertips is going to make you mad. he begins to touch your clit in fast, tight circles, his other hand still holding your mouth shut to keep you quiet.

he leans in to whisper against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine, "if you make a sound, i'll stop, got it?"

you nod obediently in response, making your best effort to comply; you don't want him to stop doing this, never. as a reward, rafe slides a thick finger down your slit and presses it against your clenched entry, steadily applying pressure until your tight muscles finally give in and allow his digit ingress.

"so fuckin' tight," he groans under his breath at the feeling of your narrow pussy engulfing his finger.

withdrawing his finger almost all the way out, he teases your entrance with the tip, making you tremble with anticipation before pushing it back in to the knuckle, his palm cupping your mound as he starts to thrust in a smooth, lazy rhythm. you swallow a whiny cry while your eyelids flutter shut, pretty face scrunched in a blissful expression.

rafe works his finger in and out of your slick pussy slowly, marveling at how your velvety walls flutter around the digit. he curls it inward, searching for that special spot that's guaranteed to drive you wild.

after a few experimental pokes, rafe's fingertip finally brushes over your g-spot, eliciting a muffled moan from under his palm. he smiles wickedly against your skin, and you shudder in his grasp, pleasure waves running through your body.

"that's it, sweetheart... feel good?" he croons softly, fingering you nice and deep.

you can't bring yourself to reply, the sensation of his large digit fucking your pussy, added to the constant rubbing of his palm against your puffy clit has your mind feeling all fuzzy. your body language is the only answer he needs, though.

rafe leans in to tenderly nip at your neck, his hot mouth latching onto your slender throat as he keeps pumping his finger steadily in and out of your dripping cunt. he knows you're close when he feels your inner muscles starting to clench erratically around his digit.

"rafe," you moan onto his palm as you feel this new, strange sensation building in your tummy, pussy tingling so nicely.

heaven help him. hearing you, his stepsister, moan his name like that makes rafe's hard dick throb almost painfully against his zipper.

and then it happens. the coil in your belly suddenly snaps and you have to bite onto your lip harshly to keep yourself from screaming as you cum for the very first time, on your stepbrother's hand. rafe continues to pump his finger in and out of your spasming cunt as you ride out your climax, wanting to prolong your pleasure.

when you finally come down from your high, you're all shaky and flustered in his arms, panting heavily to try and catch your breath. he has a satisfied smirk on his lips while he slowly withdraws his slick digit from your quivering hole to bring it up to his mouth and lick it clean, savoring your taste.

"did so well for me, baby," he coos as he uncovers your mouth, gently turning your head to the side to press a kiss to your swollen, red lips.

you return it sloppily, eyes fluttering shut in the process, and you sigh contently against his mouth. he can't help but rock his hips against your ass, rubbing his hard on against you.

"did i make you feel good?" he asks between little kisses, his breathing growing uneven. you nod in response. "yeah? then it's just fair you make me feel good too, sweetheart... wanna do that f'me?"

"yes," you whisper against his lips without even thinking, feeling him smirk into the kiss.

"such a good girl," he praises.

at some point, the porn video playing on his laptop ended, so he simply closes it up and tosses it away, the device landing somewhere on his king size bed. then, he turns you both around, until you are laying on the mattress and he is on top of you.

he is quick to undo his pants and yank them down, just enough to free his raging hard on, which bounces against his abs. let me tell you this, he's big, the tip pink and fat, already leaking precum.

suddenly, realization hits you. this is your stepbrother for god's sake, are you really gonna let him fuck you?

he notices how your body tenses up, one hand reaching to stroke your plush thigh reassuringly while the other wraps around his shaft, giving it a slow pump.

"hey, baby, relax..." he whispers gently, "i'll put just the tip in, yeah? there's nothing wrong with that."

you hesitate. his strong arms slide beneath your legs to tug you closer. then his cock brushes your pussy and you whimper. how are you supposed to say 'no' ?

it's just the tip.

"mhmm, 'kay" you end up agreeing with a little nod.

rafe flashes you a lopsided smirk, his hand gripping his cock again while the free one yanks your panties aside once more. keeping eye contact, he slowly glides the fat head of his dick up and down your drenched slit, coating it thoroughly in your arousal. you shudder as his tip eventually meets your puffy clit, the gentle rubbing sending shivers down your spine.

"rafe," you whimper.

rafe's eyelids droop, a low hum of pleasure escaping his throat as he continues to slowly drag the reddened head up and down your chubby pussy lips with squelching sounds. his breathing grows heavier the longer he teasingly rolls it against your slick folds, reveling in your breathy whimpers. he feels like he's about to burst already, pre-cum steadily leaking from the tip and onto your flesh.

he can't fucking take this anymore.

with a slow, gentle thrust, he sinks his cock into your warm, slippery pussy, just the head breaching your entrance before he pauses, savoring the initial penetration. his eyes lock onto yours, his pupils blown wide with lust.

"jesus, fuck." he grunts.

your cunt starts fluttering around him. he has barely slided the first two inches in, as he promised, but he's so thick that even that feels like a tight fit. you let out a moan, which mingles with a strained groan from rafe as your velvety walls clench tightly around his swollen cockhead.

"gonna– might just nut already, shit" rafe mutters through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to just drive forward and hilt himself deep. "so goddamn tight."

your hips buck unconsciously against his, making him slip in just a tad further —which nearly makes him lose all his self-control. somehow, he manages to keep his shit together, hips rocking slowly to thrust in and out of you while his veiny hand strokes the rest of his shaft.

you're totally enthralled by the sight, liquid heat pooling in your belly while you watch him use your body for his pleasure. he looks so good, you can't believe he's real. your chest fills with pride at the knowledge that you're making this greek god feel good.

this is the fastest rafe has ever cum, the movement of his hips becoming jerky and sloppy after a few minutes as he spills his sperm inside you. he's panting heavily, sweat beading on his brow while his fist squeezes the base of his cock tightly.

you're left wanting more when he slowly pulls out, pussy stretched out and leaking white spurts of cum. he gazes down at you with a smirk, lightly tapping the head of his dick against your swollen clit, which has you writhing beneath him.

"so fuckin' gorgeous stuffed full of my cum," he whispers, his cock smearing the sticky substance all over your slit. you mewl in response. "hmm, 'm sorry for making such a mess on your pretty pussy, sweetheart, lemme clean it up, yeah?"

you blush in response when he leans forward, throwing your creamy thighs over his broad shoulders, to put his mouth onto your sex. you almost cry at the heavenly feeling, his playful tongue delving between your folds to lap up his own release. he cleans you up thoroughly, only to mess you up again right after, his spit soaking your cunt as he makes you cum again.

after tonight, you are cancelling that date, that's for sure.

[nezuscribe]

gojo knew there was a woman under that helmet.

he knew that those movements were too fluid, to precise, to calculated to be at the hands of a man. he had seen men fight, and they did not fight like you.

it was unheard of, forbidden even, for a girl to be a part of the seven holy knights. the sacred and esteemed title was usually bestowed upon the sons who came from noble families. in other words, families who could afford to have their boys trained from birth.

as second in line to take the throne gojo didn't care much for tradition and values. his brother was going to be king in a few years. why should he bother with the weighty and unnecessary rules that he's tied to?

so he spends the rest of his time, time delegated for learning calligraphy or studying neighboring relations, with his holy knights. and half that time he spends studying you.

the knights never take off their helmets; it's part of the secrecy and significance that they hold. but gojo has been holding a sword longer than he's been holding a pen, has strummed more bows than strummed instruments. he knows this, or at least, he used to.

maybe that's why he feels such deep animosity towards you.

unlike the other knights, you don't speak or jest. you don't answer, only grunt once or twice, depending on what you want to convey. you never groan when dealt a nasty blow, and never gloat when you win the upper hand.

which you always seem to do.

you best him in sword fighting, in knife fighting, in target shooting and bow making. you're better than everyone, in all honesty, and can kill and gut an animal faster than they can haul one up the hill. it's maddening, and gojo hates being bestedat for yet another thing.

and although he'd bet his titles on your secret, he would never tell anyone about it. a part of him liked wondering who you were, liked guessing what you looked like under all that armour.

he comes to dinners later, spends more time practicing in the courtyard. he snaps at the rest of the men, blinks the bite of sweat out of his eyes. he's groan restless in trying to become the best, trying to beat you.

which is probably why he didn't see where he was walking one night, exhaustion and aching joints causing his eye sight to blur and body to sway as he tried to make his way to back to his quarters, bumping into what he thought was a statue only to find out it was a real person instead.

"shit," he mtutered, hands reaching out to steady you up, "sorry, i wasn't paying attention."

you shook your head, bowing slightly at the young prince as you kept your eyes trained on the ground.

gojo wiped at his face, hoping this wouldn't become a problem for him in the morning, coming to mind that another servant complained about his recklessness.

"it's alright," you say quietly with a small smile, "happens to the best of us."

gojo squinted, nodding as he swayed once more, steadying himself on the wall. he briefly glanced at you, noting a new face. it wasn't uncommon around the grounds, especially with how much he's been missing.

"oh...you'd might like to get your wounds checked out, my prince," you tell him, worried eyes glancing over his bruises and scrapes, all at the hands of that lady knight who keeps churning him down.

gojo looked down at his arms and hands, turning them over as if seeing it for the first time.

"right, right, thank you," he says dismally, going to leave before you shake your head, pointing to the cut along his neck.

"this one?" you say, motioning to it on your own skin.

gojo looks at you, his eyes squinting a little bit as he gives you a tight smile. with everything going on he just wants some sleep, not to be pestered by some flirting maid.

"right," gojo says between his teeth, "thank you again."

you nod, bowing once more as you leave. gojo shakes his head in annoyance, making the journey back to his room as he mutters about what new strategy he could use the next time he combats his new rival.

when he finally settles down and gets off, discarding his dirty clothes, he pauses at the mirror, his fingers lightly grazing over his neck. the blood has dried off, the wound barely even there, but that's not what catches his attention.

odd, he wonders, how could you have seen his cut under such a high collar?