#yes i was too lazy to blend anything

[webzazes]

hi can anyone tell me why i made weird angst art of one of my buddy’s ocs except it’s about their actual life as a living breathing human being. what in the mc[redacted]

this is the Thing™️ @angelmolotovv my apologies for how awkward this must be to look at (read the chain thingy)

also i was too lazy to fix the eyes so whatever. they stay wonky

[silusvesuius]

deux

this tree from my new drawing looking goated afffffff 👑👑

[supercutszns]

bitter to the taste; luke castellan

series masterlist

wc + pairing: 5.5k, luke castellan x f!reader

synopsis: a sharp blade, a black eye, and (more than) two kisses.

warnings: this is even sluttier than the last one, language, sword fighting, sharp objects, blood/injuries, reader is still a horrible person and so is luke but he's also a loooser, making out, allusions/mentions of sex but no super explicit descriptions, kind of fluffy at the end

notes: i’m starting to hate this bc i think i’ve been staring at it too long sorry if this is not as good as pt.1 but i have plans for this series ok. also READER AND LUKE ARE NOT GOOD PEOPLE!!! THEIR RELATIONSHIP WILL NOT ALWAYS BE GOOD!!! THEY SUCK!! they are also not real but keep that in mind :) synopsis inspired by crush by ethel cain; designated song for this fic is unpunishable by ethel cain (i’ve got a whole chronological playlist for these freaks like it’s serious)

You’ve always had a taste for violence. And an equally powerful penchant for sloth. 

You prefer to watch the carnage, not participate. It satisfies something inside you that you know, if it wasn’t for your laziness, could cause something irrevocable. Who the hell has time for that?. You’d rather lie back and watch instead.

This flaw of yours is the only reason you haven’t stirred more trouble, you think. It’s the reason you never attend camp games or sparring lessons. Sometimes, when you do, a dark muscle flexes inside your heart to curl out of its slumber, forming a hunger you don’t have otherwise. The second it starts to pry you have to rear yourself back and tuck the monster in. Banish the need for something more.

You don’t want to feed it. You don’t know what happens if you do. So you let other people do the feeding for you.

Luke cuts through two dummy heads in one swoop. It’s fucking gorgeous. The moon reflects off his sword, a silver sheen casting his face when he’s in the right spot. His brows are set, eyes so dark they blend with the night. Every motion is ruthless. Satisfying. 

You don’t know how many times you’ve watched him like this. He called you out for it last night, but you’re sure he doesn’t know the half of it. The shadows are a sacred cloak to you, and you wait inside them until you want your presence known. 

Meet me tomorrow. 

It runs through your head like a broken record. You can still feel his breath on your lips and your neck is still tender—had to wear a sweater in the blazing heat to hide the marks. Since you were created you’ve accepted a universal truth about yourself: you don’t harbour affection for anyone or anything. There’s not a single thing you’ve felt drawn to or protective over but yourself. It’s solitary, yes, and lonely, yes, but that’s the way you’re supposed to be. 

But you think about last night. You think about the moments between the kisses and the rush. When he teased you against your ear. When his hand brushed a certain spot on your back and something much lighter fluttered inside of you. When you crawled into sleep and thought about him, those were the moments that struck you the strangest. 

His gaze pans over the treeline every once in a while, the anger diluted. Then it comes back twice as hard as he shreds another dummy to pieces. 

He’s waiting for you. Oh, this is rich! A better person would probably turn around and go spoon their offerings into the bonfire the second they understand what they’re doing is incredibly destructive. But who are we kidding? You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t. 

So you take a step forward, slip out of the comfort of the dark, and the next time he looks to the treeline he knows you’re there. He can’t see you, but he knows. 

You wait. His strikes are less tenuous, much smoother. It almost makes you laugh. Some fucking showman he is. 

Eventually, he buries his blade in the dirt and wipes his brow. “Are you gonna come talk to me or are you gonna stare at me all night like an owl?”

You relish in the feeling of shedding the darkness, coming into the light of the moon. “Hi,” you say flatly, but there’s a tiny smile on his face when he sees you that almost puts you off. 

“Hello, rotten.” He tries to lean on the hilt of his sword but it isn’t quite tall enough so he stumbles. It’s so pathetic it almost makes you laugh. 

“Don’t call me that,” you grimace.

“Okay, back to heathen?”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“Well, you don’t seem too happy when people call you by your name so pick your poison here.” 

You don’t say anything, your mouth set in a scowl. “All right, both it is,” Luke shrugs.

He’s different from last night. Less impatient. You hope it’s not because he thinks he has you now—he’s got another thing coming. “I almost thought you weren’t gonna come,” he says with a crooked grin, neither bashful nor ashamed. 

You’ve made your way closer to him, the soft grass turning to dusty earth. “Don’t know why I did,” you mutter crassly. 

Having abandoned his sword, Luke chuckles wryly. “Yes, you do.”

That bitterness he hides from everyone else pierces through. He tilts your face up like he did yesterday, the press of his fingers beneath your chin almost burning you. You know he’s peering at the marks on your neck. 

“If you made me come here just to hook up with me you’re delusional,” you glare. 

“What, like that’s not why you’re here?” He pushes your face up a little higher, grinning a little when you add resistance. “I’m a gentleman, you know. I can be patient.”

This guy is full of fucking shit.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you snipe. The only point of contact you have is his hand on your chin, but you’re a hair’s breadth away from having everything else. The air drifting between you is almost palpable, shrinking smaller and smaller like it’s terrified of being trapped between you.

He keeps your face still. He’s studying you, and you’re suddenly curious about what he sees. You remember all those looks you’d share at the dinner tables that made this happen in the first place. What did he see then? 

“You wanna fight?”

It takes you a second to react. “What?”

“You want to fight. Pick up a sword, let’s go.” He smiles as he finally lets you go, waltzing away from you to unbury his sword from the dirt. His touch permeates through your skin and you hate it. 

“What the fuck are you talking about? I can’t fight.”

“Sure you can,” he replies, grabbing another sword from the training rack. “You need to burn off a little steam.”

You laugh sharply. “And you think me waving a sword around is gonna do that?”

“Uh, yeah,” he grins. “It’s the method that lets us keep the most clothes on.” 

You glare at him. His smirk is a mile wide. The way your stomach is simmering almost makes you sick; it’s like gorging yourself on candy except this time the candy has a sword and maybe wants to fuck you. 

You just watch as he hands you his sword, and the moonlight glinting off the metal has you believing it’s not the kind used for training. “I’ll use the dull one,” he assures. “C’mon, heathen. I know you’ve used a sword before, they force us to.”

“I usually skip those classes.”

He laughs. You can’t tell if it’s at you or with you. “Of course you do.”

You don’t like following orders, but oh, what the hell. Luke knows something about you, just like you know something about him. You’re only a little curious about it. 

“Straighten your back,” is the first thing he says once you’ve taken your stance across from him. The blunt of his sword reaches out to tap your hip. 

You begrudgingly do as you’re told. He watches you mirthfully, and the press of his sword against you starts to feel like a substitute for his hand. All the closeness you’re hungry for, dampened by cold steel. It still makes you buzz. 

He gives you the barebones—the right grip, how to maneuver, the proper balance. But long gone is his easy disposition. The motor inside him that powered all those dummy beheadings and disembowelments is running again, except this time it’s for you. He wants a fight. This is his battlefield. All right, you’ll bite.

You start to spar with the skill of an overgrown toddler. The sword feels like an unnatural ligament hanging off your body. Luke is precise, convicting, far more enthusiastic than you. “You can do better than that,” he prods after your swords clash lazily for the billionth time. “Stop going easy.”

“You’re going easy,” you shoot back. 

“Yeah, but I’d really rather not. Come on.” 

There’s a moment of hesitation. You think about that dark thing you keep harboured. A muscle aching to be used. 

“Come on,” he says again, and he almost sounds pissed. “All of a sudden you’re playing nice? What are you afraid of?”

Something flares inside you. “Nothing!”

“Then pick up the sword and fight me.”

You huff and roll your eyes, but your next swing is far more inspired. Luke blocks it easily, but you don’t care. “There we go,” he nods. “Again.”

This is more than you bargained for when you decided to come see him. All you want is to make out with this hot, awful person and have him tell you hot, awful things about yourself you probably already know. Why do you have to fight to get it? 

He keeps provoking you no matter how hard you try. Your temper picks up the more you swing, discordant clangs bruising the air, but it’s still not enough. Luke doesn’t let up. Of course the one time you try to be nice, you’re not allowed to. On second thought, why are you reigning yourself in for Luke? The only other person in camp with a real, consuming viciousness? If anything you should hit him twice as hard, since he’s so sure he can take it. 

“No wonder you’re so angry all the time,” Luke heaves out, and it gives you a swell of satisfaction. “You don’t have a proper outlet. Maybe you’d be nicer if you didn’t sit around and complain all day.”

“Shut up,” you gnash your teeth. 

“Just saying, maybe you should do something about it.”

You’re getting lost in the rhythm of the swords, the adrenaline, the sweat passing the scar on his cheek. Every swing you think less and less, and that dark muscle flexes more and more. It feels like home to you. Like a good meal. Your bones ache and the world has darkened, but that rotten pit inside you cracks open in full bloom. 

Luke keeps egging you on but you can’t hear him. Not like he still needs to. You think you’re smiling, or huffing furiously, or both. The sharpness of the sword intrigues you. A million terrible things reflect off its blade and you imagine them, all at once, until you are out of your body and the black hole inside you has properly wedged itself open. 

Luke jabs at you and you bring your sword down with a vengeance. But it’s a little too low. You only notice when he drops his weapon to the side and staggers back.

The fog of violence falters. It fades almost completely when he hisses long and hard, eyes screwed shut, and you see the tear in his shirt. In his skin. 

“Shit,” you say. “Fuck.”

You don’t sound sorry, you don’t think you are sorry, especially when he laughs. It’s a wheezy one through his teeth as you come up to him, but a laugh nonetheless. “Knew you were going easy,” he remarks through a wince. 

You ignore him, looking down at the injury. A  gash across his abdomen. It’s bleeding a little, but not enough for it to drip. You did that. Just looking at the blood, you feel the bitter taste of it in your mouth, the reward a temporary hunger for carnage brought you. This is why you don’t play camp games. 

“I’ve got thick skin. I’m fine,” Luke says casually. “I’ve got a medical kit under that tree over there in case I beat myself up too bad.” He’s no longer scrunched in pain, and you’ve got a feeling he’s telling the truth. So you go fetch the kit where he said it was. You need to wrap that slash. Not because you’re sorry for him, but because looking at it makes you angry. 

You kneel and pop the lid of the small tin kit, covered in dirt. It’s mostly gauze and bandages. Rubbing alcohol too. “Just give me the gauze, that’s all I need,” Luke gestures. 

“Shut the fuck up, I’m doing it myself.” You’ve already torn off some gauze, sitting all the way up on your knees. 

“Most people just say sorry.”

“You pushed me,” you spit back, surprisingly forceful. Luke’s smile drops. You take a deep breath, adjusting yourself to get eye level with the injury. “I told you I don’t fight.”

You’re not sure what makes Luke give in, but he doesn’t say a word as you lift the hem of his torn shirt and he holds it up. There’s no proud remark about your eyes lingering on his stomach, or the hesitation in your hands. You stare at the wound. It really is shallow. Your thumb presses at the skin around it and he winces. “My bad,” you mutter. 

As you sterilize the cut and wrap the gauze around his torso, you try not to let your fingertips cling to the warmth on his skin. You try not to notice the other scars littered there, most faded to the point they should be impossible to pick up even in the sun. It’s obvious he’s staring at you. Your neck is crawling with warmth. But you don’t engage, you just wrap the gauze a few times and do your best not to notice the rise and fall beneath his muscles as he breathes. Then you fasten things neatly and put everything away so you can get up. Any second. Come on. 

“Good?” You ask instead, exhaling. 

“Good,” he affirms. He slides a hand under your forearm and gets you up. It stays there once you’re standing. The night stills. 

“I’m guessing you’re adding ‘attempted killer’ to your list of horrible qualities,” you go on to break the silence.

He holds your gaze unyieldingly. “I’d consider that a pro, actually.” 

You are entirely fed up with this drawn out evening, but you can’t bring yourself to speed anything up any more than stepping closer so your chests brush. “I will give you one, though,” he continues, craning down to your ear. You smell his skin and it sends you back to the position you were in yesterday. 

He finally kisses your jaw, just once, then your neck. You shiver. “You’re too tense.” Another kiss behind your ear. It’s not enough. “Do you even know how to have fun?”

“I don’t want to have fun,” you reply bitterly. I just want to make out with you, asshat.

Luke’s breath frosts over your face when he chuckles, but before he can get any further away you catch his mouth with yours. Almost instinctively his arm winds around you to pull you in closer, your hand looping through his curls. It's a relief, knowing last night wasn't some freak accident. This does feel good, actually, and it can happen. Everything you felt yesterday is only more urgent now, hungrier, and you're pretty sure the way you kiss him gives that away.

He indulges you, squeezing the base of your hips as his other hand thumbs across the marks on your neck. This is so fucking embarassing—you think you whine when he bites down on your bottom lip. You’ve never needed something this bad, you’ve never needed anything. But you press yourself as close to him as you can manage and his hand runs lower, slips against your inner thighs, and it’s difficult to worry about anything else. 

Until he pulls away. Like a dick. 

He doesn’t go far, his forehead pressed to yours, but you feel like pulling out all his hair. It’s a muddling mix of frustration and longing you’re starting to associate with him. “Dude,” you groan, an inner coil only starting to unwind begrudgingly compressing. 

“Let’s go for a swim,” he says. The enthusiasm is almost alarming. Almost makes him look younger.

You’re homicidal. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes, heathen. Let’s go for a swim, come on.”

He’s rubbing circles on your thigh, which only makes you want to strangle him. “But I—I don’t have my bathing suit,” you string out. 

The smile gets more boyish. “Wow, whatever shall we do?”

It’s another challenge. Another dare. And he knows what you want, fucking jerk. You’re going to kill him. 

“Fine,” you grunt, and the second the words leave your lips you’re pulled to the lake. 

It’s a warm, sticky evening, only made worse with the sweat and the half-assed kissing, so the water doesn’t seem all that bad. Unfortunately, you don’t like giving into demands. So you stare ghoulishly at your fingernails as Luke tosses off his ripped shirt and his shorts so he can plunge into the lake. “Aren’t you going to at least come in?” He asks, but you don’t look at him. 

“I don’t like swimming,” you lie. 

“At least your feet. It’s nice, I swear!”

A splash, like smoke moving through wind chimes. You look up and Luke has completely submerged, popping his head up closer to the mouth of the dock. “Please,” he says with such conviction your resolve turns to butter. Gods, what is happening to you? You still need that lobotomy! 

You sigh, roll your eyes, turn your back to him. “Fuck this,” you mutter under your breath. You undress to your undergarments and you’re not sure if you want Luke to be watching or not. The moon touches your bare skin and a chill trickles through you. 

You take a seat at the edge of the dock, knees tucked to your chest. Luke swims over for you right away. His hair is dripping against his skin, and you hate how beautiful it looks. The waterline is high tonight, almost ridiculously so, so he props his elbows up on the dock with no problem. “Come in,” he urges. 

“No.”

“Just your legs?”

“No.”

“Gods, I’ll make it worth it, just throw your damn legs in!” 

Your eyebrows shoot up. His face is stubbornly pink. Oh, so now he wants something. You take your time uncurling yourself and Luke wades away from the dock so you can put your feet in. The water goes up to your calves, and you shiver. “So fucking difficult,” he mutters, and your pulse flickers. 

“Sorry, what was that?” You let yourself grin for the first time all night. 

“Nothing,” he hums. This time when he comes to the dock, he wraps his hands around your calves. You’re pretty sure he can stand here because he stops treading. The warmth of the water seems to spread further, long past the threshold of your knees. 

He rests his chin just above your knee, water pooling on your skin. “Stop dripping on me,” you complain. 

“Sorry.” He fake pouts when he kisses the damp spot. You see, ever so faintly, a diabolic shift in his expression. He nudges your leg with the point of his nose, then kisses it, then starts to move it aside. “Feel bad about teasing you all night,” he murmurs, still with an edge. He presses more kisses on your legs. “I really did want to see you.”

The irony that he’s still teasing is not lost on you. You’re not loving how desperately warm you’re starting to feel. “Why’s that?” You lean back on your palms. 

“You’re a very interesting person,” he quips innocently. His hands are cupping the backs of your calves. He’s pulled you a lot closer to the water, and somehow you’ve just noticed. Another blistering kiss on the inside of your thigh. 

“You’re fucking evil,” you scathe. 

He looks up at you from between your legs. “You have literally done nothing but berate and injure me this whole evening.”

“Yeah, and right after I patch you up you jump in the water for shits. You’re playing infection roulette, Castellan.”

“See? You’re so mean.” He sighs, and in a move that almost surprises you to death, he hoists both your legs over his shoulders and they dangle into the river behind him. “And here I am anyway, making it up to you.”

You are suddenly illuminated on the purpose of this situation. Why Luke is between your legs. Your heart jolts. “Luke, you can’t be serious.” 

“Mmhm.” He leans forward to kiss right under your navel. 

You hate how much you want him to do it again, how your body burns, but you avert your eyes. “Someone’s gonna—someone’s gonna hear us.”

He snorts, “No they won’t. Either this or you come in the water with me. Or both. We’ll see.”

A huge smile cracks across your face before you push it back down. You’re going to spend a lot of time coming back to this moment, this night, wondering why. “What is wrong with you.”

It comes out like a compliment when it leaves you. You want to vanish. Luke chuckles, and something foreign to the both of you buzzes through the air. 

“Are you going to be nice?” He asks against your skin. 

“Are you going to be quick?”

His mouth finds your hip bones and yeah, why the hell would you say no to this? He nods, “Swear.” 

That’s all you need. You let your eyes slide shut and your head tilts towards the sky. Luke takes your permission and runs with it, pries you open with his mouth until the stars soak through the black of your eyelids. 

You discover pretty quickly neither of you are good at keeping promises. 

The next time you need Luke’s med kit, he’s already awake. 

It’s been happening more and more often. You lurking around camp past moonrise and finding Luke outside his cabin, going for a walk or a stretch or a … something with you. 

“Do you ever sleep?” You ask him sometimes between flurries of kisses with your back against a tree. 

“Could ask you the same thing, heathen,” he squeezes your hips and nips at your neck, but never answers the question. And neither do you, so you’re both okay with it. You’d hate to give up this feeling, but he doesn’t need to know that.

This is the first time in your punitive life you have felt alive. Like a person, with bones and flesh and soul, a real presence. Not a ghost of smoke and shadow. You are real. 

Fooling around makes you feel like an actual teenager. You’re young, you remember when Luke joins you in the dark. You’re having fun. His hands under your shirt and his mouth on your collarbone, the way he bites down and winces when you do something a little too well, when you string out his name and he rewards you for it. You’re both greedy, insatiable people, so there’s a push and pull only the two of you would ever be able to handle. And nobody has to know. Despite all the bruises, the sleepless nights, the swollen lips, all you and Luke share in the daylight are noxious looks, and that's only if he can find you. A perfect crime. Camp Half-Blood’s angel and the vice that lives in the shadows. But in the dark, it’s hard to tell which is which. 

“Luke,” you whisper. “Luke.”

“I’m up,” he grumbles, peering up at you. “You shouldn’t sneak into my cabin.” He was already sitting up in his bed when you slipped in, and he didn’t notice you were there till you were right in front of him.

“Worried someone will catch me? You should know better.” 

He follows you outside so you don’t wake the other campers. There’s a thrill knowing just one interaction between the two of you could ruin both your reputations forever. 

“What is it, heathen?” He asks as the door closes behind him. It’s so dark and your back is turned to him, but his voice is drenched in smugness. “You don’t usually want to put up with me more than once a night.”

“Don’t have a choice,” you mutter, staring out at the camp. You go to chew on your bottom lip, but you wince immediately. “Where’s your kit thingy? The one we used after I impaled you.” 

“You mean after you lightly grazed me?” 

“Just tell me where it is, Luke.”

Your sharpness could cut through any sleepy daze he possibly has. He’s silent behind you for a second. “Why?” He asks.

“Because I need it.”

His hand curls around your shoulder and before you can think to submerge yourself in darkness, he turns you around. When he sees you, his face breaks from something proud to something … you’re not sure you like. “Oh, heathen,” he murmurs. “What happened to you?”

You guess it’s a semi-appropriate reaction, although you expected at least a grimace. To put it lightly, your face looks gnarly as fuck. There’s a bruise on your cheekbone and your lip is split. But what really draws attention is the half-formed, garish black eye swelling up your right side. 

“Just the usual. Pissed someone off.” It hurts the skin on your lip that’s caked with blood. 

He rests his thumb on your unbruised cheek, but somehow it still stings. You know he can’t see much of you in the dark but he tries. The prolonged eye contact without the imminent promise of a kiss feels foreign. “You need to go to the Apollo cabin,” he concludes, brows pushed together. 

A laugh slips past your broken lips. “No fucking shot. They would not help me.”

“Why not?”

“Because one of their shit-eaters did this!”

The words take a moment to register. You see them filtering through Luke’s brain. He blinks absurdly. “An Apollo guy beat you up?”

“Not beat up. Just … tussled.”

“How much tussling earns you a black eye, exactly? From Apollo kids.”

“Gods, just tell me where your kit is so you can go back to fucking sleep.”

His fingertips inch around the back of your neck, thumb still against your face. “Already wasn’t sleeping. I might as well help you,” he shrugs. “I move the kit every once in a while so some other campers don’t ravage it.”

“I don’t need help.”

Luke opens his mouth, then sighs deeply. He takes a firm hold of your arm and starts to tug you along. “Hey, what—” you swat at his arm. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he huffs. “Come on.”

It’s strange. Luke’s never done you a favour before. At least not one like this. You’re disgruntled enough that you had to go ask him in the first place and now he’s dragging you around? “This isn’t such a big deal, Luke,” you badger. “I’m fine.”

“Sure, whatever. Wait right here.” He lets go of you and only then you realize you’re in front of the Apollo cabin. You grimace, and Luke must have noticed because he says, “Don’t worry, I’m just gonna go inside and grab some things. No one’s gonna jump you.”

You scowl at him, and he just laughs. A part of you hopes he hits his head on the way in. You hide anyway. 

It’s a few minutes of waiting in the oppressive summer heat, until Luke emerges from the cabin with his hands full. He looks around, hesitantly calling, “Heathen?” Then again. You move out of your hiding spot and he jogs over to greet you. 

“Nice haul,” you comment. There’s an ice pack, cotton pads, a few miscellaneous items. “How’d you get them?”

He smiles widely. “Everyone loves me, heathen. It’s not hard.”

“…So you stole them.”

“Yes, but only because I’m too tired to talk to people and I’m protesting for your sake,” he rattles off. “Now hold this ice pack before it gives me frostbite.”

The two of you make your way down to the docks again. It’s morphed into your usual meeting place, since the waves lapping at the shore mask when Luke gets a little too noisy just to piss you off. (At least that’s what he tells you.)

He’s stashed his little tin in a different tree this time. After he retrieves it he sets everything out like a chef preparing to make a meal out of gauze and rubbing alcohol. 

Your head has been throbbing for the past few hours. You’re not proud that you antagonized the wrong Apollo kid and got a shiner for it. You’re less proud that you came to Luke for help. Just like everyone else does.

“Come,” he gestures, tugging at the waistband of your pants. You scoot closer to him and swallow the weight of your pulse when he touches you. 

Luke slowly presses the ice pack to your black eye, letting you hold it. “What did you do to earn this, anyway?” He asks, head tilted to the side. 

You’re hissing because of the ice, half-consciously shifting into him. “The usual. Spat at him. Made fun of his daddy a little too much. Tripped him so he landed face-first in his offerings.”

“You did not,” Luke laments as he dots alcohol onto a cotton pad. 

“You’re allowed to say you’re proud of me, Saint Castellan. I won’t tell. You can be mean.” Your voice drips with irony, and you hope it bothers him. The flex in his jaw gives it away. 

“You’re always gonna be meaner,” is all he says back. “This is gonna hurt.”

It’s all the warning he gives before he presses the pad against your lip. The sting envelops you immediately, and your good eye squeezes shut. “Shit, ow!” 

“Stop moving your mouth.”

“Fuck,” you swear anyway. Your lip burns so hard you can feel it in your teeth. 

Luke holds your jaw with his other hand so you can’t shy away. “I’ll kiss it better,” he teases. “Almost done.”

You roll your eyes, but Luke takes the pad off a few moments later. “Serious question. How are you so awful to people all the time?”

A groan tears through your throat with such force your head tilts back. “Not you too! I don’t need a fucking reason, there is no reason. Why doesn’t anyone get that?” 

“I’m not asking why. I’m asking how.”

He’s oddly serious, the caress of his thumb on your cheek far slower. You hate it when people want a reason why you’re like this, just to help them sleep at night. But from the bags lining Luke’s eyes, sleep doesn’t seem to be on his radar. 

“I just don’t care,” you admit, shrugging. “I don’t care about any of them. I don’t care about what they can do to me. I don’t care about anything.”

“…What about the Gods?”

It makes you cock your head. “Huh?”

“You wouldn’t care about them, either?”

You think, but only about which words to use. “No,” you decide, “They don’t scare me. They’re nothing. What are they gonna do to me?”

Luke snorts, almost nervously. “Uh, punish you for saying that, for one.”

You turn back to him, ice pack leaving your eye as you gesture. “How? By killing me? Pecking out my eyeballs? Burning me alive? I’m telling you, I don’t care. I don’t care about anything. It’s all just nothing to me. I’m fucking unpunishable, I’d like to see them try.” 

Huffing, you look back up at the firmament of stars. Luke says nothing. 

The grass rustles as he shifts, and his mouth ghosts over the bruise on your eye. “Unpunishable,” he murmurs, like he’s testing it out. Then he places an uncharacteristically gentle kiss just beneath your eye. And another just above. “We’ll see about that.”

You get that feeling again, the unbearable lightness in a place it shouldn’t be. Mixed with the poison lodged in your heart. 

Luke kisses you, still so delicate that you wonder if he’s been body-snatched. If anything, your bleeding lip feels soothed against his. His hands cradle your face with no ferocity at all. It seems wrong. 

“How do you feel?” He asks after pulling away, dark eyes nebulous and wide. The night usually sharpens his features. Now, they’ve been hushed.

“Um, better,” you reply. 

He hums, laying a slow trail of kisses on your jaw. “Did you at least get the other guy?” He asks between kisses. “Like, did you hurt him?”

“Not really,” you divulge, wondering if you should feel shame. 

“Why?” He’s made his way to your neck now, nudging your jaw up so he can kiss behind your ear. 

“I’m not a fighter.” And, without warning, for a reason you will never, ever be able to explain, your tongue adds, “I’m a killer.”

Your own brows furrow. Luke pauses for a moment, but knocks his nose against your neck. “Guess one of us has to be.”

There’s no more fooling around. No snappy insults, no feverish kisses, no hunger to be satiated. Luke just checks you over a few more times, hides his med kit, and you both get up to sleep. But his hand wraps around your wrist, far less firm than when he dragged you here. “Stay in my bunk, heathen,” he offers. “Leave in the morning.”

You think you’re making a mistake when you agree, but it doesn’t feel like one. 

The next day, after you’ve left Luke’s bunk, rumours float around camp that Luke Castellan accidentally butted some Apollo kid in the face with his sword during training. Caused a bloody, broken nose. Luke was very sorry, apologized profusely. 

But you know, by the way he takes you behind the stables that night, that he didn’t mean a single damn word.

luke taglist: @sunniskyies @apollos-calliope @lillycore @sunny747 @m00ng4z3r @pabkeh @thaliagracesgf @theadventuresofanartist @bonnie-tz

rotten taglist: @thaliagracesgf

leave a pm/comment/ask if you'd like to be added to a taglist :)

[lleeanarr]

pt 2.

summary: The relationship was unexpected not only from the fans, but it was unexpected to the both of them as well.

genre: fluff, smau

paring: Lando Norris x Influencer!reader

warnings! : swearing, attempted humour

fc: Lani Pliopa

a/n: part two! sorry for the long wait😞😞

prev | next

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris : hello??

-

landonorris : …

landonorris : its been a day🙃

-

landonorris : answer me?

landonorris : pls?😔

-

landonorris : day 65 of asking you to answer me🫠

landonorris : ANSWERRRRRR‼️‼️

catsuperior111 : what in the desperate male😨😨

landonorris : im not desperate.

catsuperior111 : u sure????

catsuperior111 : looks and sound very desperate to me🤷‍♀️

landonorris : 🙂

catsuperior111 : its okk everyone just wants to slide into my dms😌✨

landonorris : weren’t you the one sliding into mine🤨

catsuperior111 : I-

catsuperior111 : me is 🤏 close to blocking tu😃😃

landonorris : NO

landonorris : and why the fuck did it take you a whole week to answer me🤨🤨

catsuperior111 : uhhh

catsuperior111 : my phone was dead..??

landonorris : bullshit who can survive a week without a phone

landonorris : and you suck at lying.

catsuperior111 : BOO TOMATO TOMATO📣📢‼️

catsuperior111 : THIS IS SLANDER😠😠

landonorris : no slander

landonorris : just the truth🤷

landonorris : now answer my question why did it take you so long?

catsuperior111 : i was too lazy😔✊

landonorris : THAT WAS THE REASON?!!!

catsuperior111 : yes.

catsuperior111 : you were too boring for me to reply to🤷‍♀️

landonorris : bullshit

landonorris : i know deep inside you enjoy my attention😍✨

catsuperior111 : WHO in their RIGHT mind would ever enjoy your attention😨😨😨

landonorris : rude.

landonorris : and fyi MANY would😒

catsuperior111 : mhmm sure keep lying to yourself

catsuperior111 : sometimes being delulu is the solution😍🙏🙏

landonorris : man fuck you.

landonorris : did you even check who you messaged😭😭

catsuperior111 : in all honesty no☺️

landonorris : SO YOU JUST HAPPENED TO DM ME FROM CURIOSITY?!

catsuperior111 : OMG I DIDNT KNOW YOU HAD THAT IN YOU TO FIGURE IT OUT😨😨‼️‼️

landonorris : WOMAN YOU ARE SOMETHING😭😭

reacted with : 😮‍💨

*ੈ���‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, bsfuser and 23,689 others

yourusername small dump📷🍪

view all comments

bsfuser THE CATSSSS😍😍😍

yourusername I KNOW RIGHT?!!!!

yourusername I WAS LITERALLY SHRIEKING WHEN I WALKED DOWN THE STREETS AND SAW THEM🥹🥹🥹

bsfuser LITERALLY THE CUTEST🥹🤏

alexandrasaintmleux 😍😍

liked by author

user17 y/n and her constant post on her lego builds

user35 l literally love her aesthetic😩🤌🤌

user31 she’s literally GLOWING📢📣📣‼️‼️

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

catsuperior111 : do you seriously not post anything??

landonorris : why do you care if i post something or not🤨🤨

landonorris : and who are you to question i post something or not when you have ZERO POST

catsuperior111 : WDYM😠😠

catsuperior111 : i post stuff on my main😒

landonorris : THIS WAS A BURNER ACCOUNT!!

catsuperior111 : yes?

catsuperior111 : did you really think i was going to talk to you using my main🤨

landonorris : most people do

landonorris : yes

catsuperior111 : well i have a burner account for research purposes😍😍🤌🤌

landonorris : WOW

landonorris : no wonder you asked a weird ass question😭😭

catsuperior111 : BINGO✨

catsuperior111 : my main is @yourusername

catsuperior111 : im tired of switching accounts back and forth😪✋

landonorris : lazy ass

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername posted a story!

caption: me and my gang😍🤌🤌✨

view replies!

landonorris why did it take me a while to spot you💀

landonorris you blend in

yourusername YOU THINK I LOOK LIKE A CAT🥹

yourusername Im honoured🫶🥹

yoursister How did you manage to take that with my cats😨😨

yourusername they just love me😩😩✨

bsfuser the cat obsession is getting crazier...

yourusername 🤫

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername : oi

yourusername : i accidently bought two tickets to the eras tour😞😞

yourusername : no wonder they were so expensive!

yourusername : can you come with?

landonorris : do younot have any friends?

yourusername : i do...

yourusername : they ditch moi for they're boyfriends

yourusername : def didn't stand up to bros before hos😕🙄

landonorris : when?

yourusername : OMG UR ACTUALLY WILLING TO GO????!!!

landonorris : its charity work😥

yourusername : ....

yourusername : fuck you

landonorris : also who is stupid enough to decline an eras tour concert ticket WHICH WAS PAID FOR☺️☺️

yourusername : having you as company better be fucking worth it

landonorris : dw it will😗

landonorris : if ur being serious about me going when?

yourusername: 18th of october

landonorris : where?

yourusername : miamiiiii

landonorris : wtf you expect me to fly to miami for you???

yourusername : yes

landonorris : ur paying for my flight ticket

yourusername : WHATTTTT????

yourusername : i am too BROKE for that😔

yourusername : i paid for ur concert ticket...

yourusername : at least pay for the flight

yourusername : give some justice to my bank account☹️🤚

landonorris : fine

landonorris : the things i do to see taylor swift😞😞

yourusername : wow what about meeeee

landonorris : thanks for the ticket🙂

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

a/n: i'm literally so sorry for taking so long to release the second part i will be posting more frequent hopefully...😓

taglist: @iamahallucinationnn , @hurtblossom , @papaya-twinks , @kami10471633 , @ahnneyong

[nanamis-bigtie]

sentience

↬ yuta x gn!reader | lucid love ↬ lucid love masterlist // jjk masterlist // ao3 version

cw: smut, gender neutral reader (no excessive body descriptions, no gendered pronouns), aged up character, dom reader, handjob, overstimulation, cum play summary: the strongest in the world, the sweetest in your bedroom. yuta loves succumbing to your hands word count: 1.6k a/n: yuta fuckers, this one is for you (i say, as if i wasn't one of you). i don't write dom reader often but ngl, despite initial difficulty, i found this quite fun to work with. i hope you will enjoy this too! tag list: @thesacredfanfics

"One more time?"

It's a question in your mind but words falling out of your lips pass more as an order. And he treats them so, obediently opening his eyes and rolling his head between pillows so he can look straight at you.

He was so beautiful when sunken in them, avoiding your piercing gaze and trying to hide his flushed cheeks. He's even more beautiful now, watching you with half-closed glossy eyes, his lips swollen and slightly parted, his chest heaving and muscles spasming, the remnants of his latest orgasm still shaking him whole. He's a mess, but for the few rounds you've already put him through, he's quite holding himself collected. As expected from the strongest.

"Please be gentle with me," Yuta smiles, such a pretty sight when mixed with bright-pink taint. He lifts himself on elbows and adjusts his position, your weight perched in his lap meaning nothing to him. 

You let him squirm for now. You know he'll listen when the right time comes, meanwhile relishing in the touch of reins in your hands. He entrusted you with full control over him, despite being in power in almost every other dimension of your life. Little can you both do about it, the gap of battle experience, social status and sheer strength is too great to be just adjusted to your whims. But here, in your shared bedroom, he's eagerly kneeling in front of you and laying his head in your lap, not the strongest anymore, just your pretty plaything to spoil and use however you want.

Yes, you let him have this little control from time to time. As a reminder he could, if he wanted, enforce his position even here. As a reminder that he never will—because you're in power far greater than what he possesses.

He's finally found a comfortable position for you both and blends into his pillows again. Still holding his cock with a firm grasp, you lean forward and kiss his sweaty forehead, then claim his lips, sloppy, lazy—yet, merciless with the way you steal the little breath he's gathered when recovering from his high. You feel him spasm under you when he's at his limit, much faster than a few rounds ago, but you don't stop just yet, not until you hear a pleading whine for air.

"There, there," you coo, stroking his cheek with a thumb and watching his chest twitch with sharp drafts for oxygen. "It's okay now."

Slowly, testing the current waters, you resume stroking. His cock is hot and slick with cum and so deliciously sensitive against your palm. You don't need to move much to have his abs twitching and breath growing heavier—so you're not overdoing it for now, instead feeding your eyes with the views. Your hand and his abdomen are covered in thick, milky ropes of his prior releases. His hair, from the long and thick strands plastered to his forehead and sides of his face to his soft pubes, is drenched in sweat. So is his skin, glistening in the ray of light sneaking through loosely drawn curtains. 

The game of moisture and shadows brings out the subtle lines of his muscles. You trace them with the thumb of your free hand, relishing in ticklish spasms, then switch your interest to the net of scars and stretch marks of his sudden height growth. For someone still relatively so young, Yuta is adorned with lines and crevices like a fatigued map—and always laughs your concerns away. Now, when he's the strongest, hardly anything can reach him anymore. 

The scar he's wearing on his forehead is the last mark he's received, and it's been...years. Yet, it always looks so fresh, and whenever your attention is pulled towards it, you only crave stronger to melt and spoil him.

You reach out to trace it, and Yuta steals this opportunity to nuzzle his cheek into the palm of your hand, then to kiss it when your eyes meet.

"Did I say you can?" You click your tongue, softly, not really mad nor disturbed with his little disobedience.

"I can't help it." The way he smiles at you now, his eyes seeming even bigger when he tilts his head to net even more of your warmth, melts you straight from the core. "Your skin tastes so good."

His tongue darts out to steal moisture from your wrist—and this is where you finally set the line. Your hold on him tightens, until he's wincing and inhaling sharply through clenched teeth. It's just some discomfort, nothing he couldn't handle, and you soon replace it with a different, more pleasant yet intense sensation. His eyes flick wide open when you switch between them so abruptly, his hips stutter upwards, following the motion of your wrist in search for another release, approaching so fast with his nerves already strained and fried.

"Yuta." There's a warning in your voice and he immediately stills, only his chest heaving with desperate breaths. "That's right. This is how a good boy should behave."

You've listened to his body though and returned to lazy, almost gentle strokes from a while ago. You take this time for yourself too, your wrist and knees feeling the time you've spent on doting on him and torturing him in turns. You try to not squirm too much in his lap, shifting your weight forwards just a little, to find a more comfortable angle for your feet. It's enough to drag a reaction out of him—a delicious, loud moan and a sharp twitch of his cock. 

You clench your hand around it harder and cease the strokes, pushing the wave away, and hold it until his mewls calm down enough to be sure he's going to actually listen.

"Not yet," you smile at his almost disappointed face. "We're going to milk you properly, sweet thing."

If there's anything you can still milk out of him, you wonder as you return to your tracks. With your hand drenched in his cum, you can't even tell if he's still gushing any fluid like he's been before, so starved of your touch. At least he's still as reactive, each of your strokes rewarded with sweet noises, his muscles tensing and Adam's apple bobbing as he tries to swallow. Most of his drool ends elsewhere, flowing free out of his wide-open lips, such a messy thing, already slipping into mindless, blissed-out state. You scoop some of it from his chin and slide your thumb into his mouth; Yuta follows instinctively and sloppily sucks on it.

"Good boy." You approve with your touch as well, applying more pressure to your strokes and relishing in the loud and obscene moan, just barely muffled by your finger. 

His hips snap out of control again and this time you're not trying to stop it. He's too far out of his mind to listen, your digit in his mouth and your hand around his cock the only world that matters to him. He's rutting into your palm like an animal, following your strokes and racing even after you've ceased them again, focusing just on the right pressure. He's sparing your wrist and giving you an opening for something you've had in mind for a while but haven't tested when so engrossed with his expressions and reactions.

All you need is to catch the right moment.

Yuta's eyes roll to the back of his head and hands clench on sweat-drenched sheets underneath. His cock throbs in your hand differently, harder than before, all of his muscles focused on gushing another load out of him. You finally move your hand again, squeeze him right under his glans and hold until the tension is almost gone, and his expression starts to melt.

Then, you release the hold, dragging him away from dry orgasm right at the very last moment. Built-up pressure spurts out of him, having his cock twitch and bob, even if for the few past orgasms it only lazily poured.

"You still had something for me?" you coo, tracing a new rope of cum he's left over his abdomen. "Such an insatiable, messy thing."

Yuta whines under your touch, his abs spasming almost painfully and his breath teetering on the brink of hiccups. His back arches when you grab his cock at its base again, there are tears pooling at the corners of tightly shut eyes, so delicious and tempting. You listen to your sadistic call just for a few more strokes, until he's almost sobbing, so sensitive it hurts without a doubt.

Still, he's not calling for a break. And he looks at you almost grumpy when you let go of him.

"Look what have you done to me." You show him your hand, sticky with his cum from the tips of your fingers down to your wrist and forearm. "Will you make it up for me?"

He opens his mouth immediately, you order, he listens. However weak, he's swirling his tongue around your digits and eagerly sucks his own seed off them and prompts you to slide even deeper. For being such a good boy for you, you can only oblige, making him gag until his tears flow down his flushed cheeks.

You watch his cock with attention meanwhile. After all of this, he's still not growing soft.

Truly an insatiable thing.

"One more time?" You pull fingers out to let him speak—and smirk at the disappointed whine he lets out as soon as he's allowed to make a noise.

"Yes." Yuta almost chokes on saliva and cum mix filling his mouth. "Yes, please."

[twst-drabbles]

Floyd 13

Summary: You play around with Floyd's little fat belly after dumping a bag of magically enchanted shrimp in the tank.

(I threw out my neck so badly I had to get a separate keyboard to use while elevating my laptop. I’m getting better but oh boy my neck muscles are so delicate nowadays. Horrible. Anyways, have a small Floyd with a fat belly.)

“Did you get a bite to eat?”

Floyd, all laid out on your towel-covered lap, gave a large, lazy stretch of his limbs and tails. He trilled, but it blended into a yawn. You tapped at his belly, watching as his food-filled stomach lightly jiggled with just that gentle force.

“Did you eat a lot?”

Floyd’s arms shot up in the air as he gave a hard squeak. A celebratory ‘Yes!’ Another tap to his stomach made him burp. He covered his mouth, a little wide eyed at the noise, glanced at you to gauge if he was in trouble or not, then laughed loudly when you smiled.

You found a bag of shrimp at the market and, upon looking at the nice price, decided to spoil the little seafolk. At first, you were just going to dump them into the tank and watch them go on an eating feast, but then you remembered the amount of favors Crowley owes you. So, you cashed in on one of them had him enchant these shrimp to move and swim as soon as they touch the salted water of your tank.

Safe to say it was a good decision. All the various shrimp swimming and dodging their movements got them in hunting mode. Though, out of everyone, Floyd was the one that ate the most. So much so that when you went back into the room after leaving them alone, you found him laying in the middle of the sand, belly as huge as can be with the happiest smile on his face.

And not a single headless shrimp in sight. It seems as though all of the seafolk have well and truly eaten everything in sight. Not a single piece wasted. And it seems you didn’t have to take the time to clean the tank, which is always a good thing.

Azul and Jade had hidden themselves away, so all you had to keep company was Floyd. And here he is, on your lap because you don’t really have anything else to do. And since you didn’t want to sit on the floor–and potentially have Azul and Jade be jealous–you took him downstairs. Everyone else will have their time, but for now, it’s Floyd’s time.

Floyd joined in on the belly smacking, patting away at it like a drum.

“You sure you didn’t eat too much? You didn’t steal food out of your tankmates’ hands again, did you?”

You poked Floyd’s face and he predictably frowned. His tiny arms wrapped around your finger, claws lightly scraping against your skin, and began to gnaw on it. Playfully, as his teeth didn’t draw blood this time around.

You easily broke his hold. You dangled your hand just out of his reach, and laughed when he tried to stretch his body beyond his limits to grab at you again. His tail flapped in effort, but eventually he gave up and flopped against the curve of your thigh. He was tired, sleepy and very full of food.

You tapped his stomach again and Floyd squeaked in annoyance, but did nothing more. It wasn’t long before your taps lulled him to sleep.

Alright, in just a few more minutes, you’ll put him back in the tank.

[deathbxnny]

You and Me here. | Kisuke Urahara x Gn!Reader

This is so self-indulgent omg... but I've been feeling motivated to write so much lately, so this is my official and first offering to the Bleach fandom-

Synopsis: Kisuke always had secret worries regarding your relationship and past together. He felt like your choice to still be there with him was out of necessity due to your unfortunate situation... but you're more content with it than he may think.

Content: Vague mentions of Kisuke's past, angst, fluff, established romantic relationship, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns.

((Not fully proofread))

When you gave up your life in the Seireitei for the man you loved more than life itself, you were asked why you'd do such a foolish thing for him. Was he really worth it? Worth the banishment and exile from your home and old life? Worth the pain and agony of knowing you could never return? Worth losing identity, your family, your friends, your status… Everything?

And your answer back then, the one that led you to now calmly stand in a small kitchen, humming to yourself peacefully as you made breakfast, was yes. He was worth it. Even if the man himself, legendary Kisuke Urahara, former captain and prodigy, thought otherwise.

The morning sun was filtering in through the open windows of the Urahara shop, the chirping of the birds and rustling of trees alike blending in with the sound of you pouring tea into a cup. It was way too early for any of the two children, which you considered your own, to be awake, and therefore, you took in this moment of idilic peace for as long as you could. Gentle and careful hands suddenly then grabbed onto your hips, familiar blonde locks tickling the side of your face, as a certain someone took a content breath of your sweet scent and food you had made. "Morning, my love." He hummed into your ear, his thumbs absently rubbing circles into your hips in silent thanks. You turned your head with a smile, one that made his tense shoulders relax. "Good morning, Kisuke... did I wake you?" Your voices were hushed, not wanting to wake anyone.

The man closed his eyes and hummed a lazy 'no' into your neck, unwilling to move away from you despite the tasty breakfast practically dangling infont of him. "That's good... come on, let's eat before the kids come." You chuckle, dragging the man into his chair and handing him his well-deserved meal. It was a routine you both had fallen into over the many years, centuries, you've spent here now in your home. But today... you were quick to notice the difference in your lover's behavior. What would usually be filled with a morning of teasing words and laughter was now simply silent and solemn. You could feel the unsure energy shift, the nervousness in his pensive gaze that turned to the window, the unsaid words that lingered in the air that must've burned on his tongue.

You could tell he was thinking about something important, which he always did in the form of new plans and equally as questionable experiments. But you knew there was something else on his mind this time, something much more sinister, perhaps. You've known him for way too long not to notice, of course. And he must've known that, as he placed down his cup of tea with a sigh. "Yoruichi is coming to visit today. I hope you don't mind taking over the morning shift for a while? I'll reward you with a kiss if you do~!" He attempted to fake his usual playful tone, quick to stand with no further elaboration, not that he really needed to. His old companion visiting was not unusual, and if anything, it was more than welcome. But that wasn't what made you arch a brow. "Sure... are you okay, Kisuke?" You asked, watching as the man passed you and made his way out of the kitchen with a hum.

"More than okay~!" He sang out, and you had no time to inquire about his issue any further when Jinta and Ururu came rushing in for their share of the breakfast, too. Your eyes lingered on his retreating form, lips pressed together in worry that you pushed away for the sake of the starving kids.

"Y'know... I believe you're just overthinking this again." Yoruichi hummed, her hand idly swishing around her cup of milk tea as she spoke. She knew the man well, and therefore was easily able to tell what exactly was bothering him. "Besides... if they really were unhappy here with you... then they would've never followed you to begin with. You should know that." The blonde sighed at her words, knowing she was right. But even so, there was something in him that still disagreed. It was irrational, very much emotionally driven, than anything else. It has been bothering him for decades now, corrupting his mind and leaving him restless on most nights, even when you've never left his side for more than a day in all your time here. So what was it that made him still doubt the sincerity in your choices?

"I... am aware of that. But that doesn't make me feel better about it." "So you're feeling guilty?" He bowed his head to conveniently sip on some tea as she said those painfully true words, which confirmed her suspicions. Putting her cup down with a slight thud, the woman crossed her arms and gave him a stern look. They've had this conversation many, many times before. And whilst she understood his worries to some extent, she didn't want him to ruin what he had with you. You were good for him. More than he could ever acknowledge.

"Urahara Kisuke!" She called out, leaning forward with a narrow of her eye. "Have you even slightly attempted to bring this up to them? I bet they'd be more than elated to tell you about how much they love you. I'd know..." She said, a small grin tugging at her lips at all the times she had to listen to you do that exact thing. But the man still looked stubbornly unconvinced. "Yoruichi-" "-Yeah, yeah, I know what you're gonna say." She attempted to mock his posture, clearly trying to get her point across once and for all. "Oh, but they ultimately had no choice! They would've had to leave one way or another!"

"Is that really how I sound to you?" The man asked, his eyes hidden by the shadow of his stripped bucket hat. The cat woman gave him a stern glare, clearly not liking that he was avoiding the situation again. He was intelligent and brilliant in many things... until it came to you and your feelings for him. You've been a couple for many decades now... and yet, he still acted as though he made you to at gunpoint. It would be funny if she wasn't so exhausted of it. And she was sure that you, too, were starting to catch onto his insecure thoughts and shenanigans.

Back then, before your life's in the world of the living, his worries mostly surrounded his unexpressed feelings for you. He didn't think he was worth your affections, especially not if other captains like Shinji existed, who had already tried his luck with you. And Yoruichi remembered how hard she had to fight to make the man in front of her even consider speaking to you again afterward. It was a struggle, but now she can say she was proud of herself for pulling through... until the next challenge came by in the form of whatever this was supposed to be.

Shaking her head, she tilted her head at him, eyes now alot softer in knowing empathy. "Listen. I get it. What they did, everything they've sacrificed, it was crazy. But that's just proof that they love you more than you know... man, for someone who's supposed to be a prodigy, you're painfully dense." Kisuke chuckled weakly at her words, his eyes glinting slightly in the sun with an unreadable look in them. "Hm... maybe you're right." Yoruichi felt her eye twitch. "I know I'm right!"

Pushing the door to the shop open, Kisuke stepped inside and let out a hum when the familiar sound of your and the kid's laughter filled his ears. He considered himself lucky to hear it, no matter how many times he did. Many years ago, when he first met and began developing his deep rooting feelings for you, he dreamt of coming home to moments like these. Leaning his body against the doorway to the small living room, he watched you three play a silly board game together. You were smiling brightly, hand reaching out to mess with Jinta's red hair, whilst Ururu cuddled into your side on the couch.

Yoruichi's words rang in his mind, reminding him of all the good he had in his life through your presence in it. And you were beautiful like this. So radiant and alive. You had changed alot since your time in the Seireitei and know that Kisuke was watching you so closely, he realised that you've changed for the better. You were free and could be yourself here. Here with him. Your eyes suddenly found his, and it felt like he was breathing again. You were the air that filled his lungs, as without you, he'd die. His world was worth nothing before you came into his life.

"Kisuke! Come play with us!" You called out, patting an empty spot next to you. The man gave you his usual grin back, quick to do as you asked. And as the children were momentarily distracted to ponder over their next moves, you leaned your head against his, your lips brushing against his ear lovingly. "Do you feel better?" You asked, and he chuckled gently in response. You were so perceptive. But that would be a conversation for another day, as he was beginning to understand his own misconceptions and flaws regarding your own feelings. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, a kiss pressed to your cheek affectionately before he responded.

"Yes. I feel better now. Thank you."

[angelicblondie]

hiii! i loved your fic about lazy days with luke? could you write one for rafe?

hi angel! yes ofcccc! glad you liked it <333 (MDNI)

rafe rarely got days off, which made lazy days hard to come by. but when he did, they were your favorite of days.

there was something so perfect about simply waking up with nothing to do. whilst on most days you were waken by rafes blaring alarm (you told him to change it to anything but the radar noise, but he refused, saying it was the "most effective"), today you got to wake up on your own time. rafe was still asleep, most likely exhausted from his latest work trip, so you let him sleep a bit longer, getting up to fetch him some coffee.

by the time you got back he had migrated to your side of the bed with a subconscious frown, as if he had noticed you were gone and was searching for you. you bite your lip to hold back a smile and place the mug on the end table, crawling up next to him and brushing some hair out of his face. he groaned, scrunching his eyes up as you giggle softly.

"mornin' rafey," you whisper groggily, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. his eyes fluttered open, taking in the sight above him. "mornin'," he replied, looking to the clock for the time.

you cuddle back up into him, handing him his coffee and he sits up to sip it. you decide to just lay in his lap, playing with his free hand and cracking his knuckles. the silence that surrounds the two of you is comfortable, and you quietly hum underneath your breath, looking up at rafe every now and then to admire his early morning glory.

you two spend most of the morning in bed, cuddling and kissing, talking in quiet and gentle voices, as if you two weren't trying to disturb the peace.

you eventually get up to shower, the warm water trailing down your skin as rafe lathers body wash all over you, taking a moment to raunchily fondle your tits and ass, to which you giggle and shove him off, scolding him lightheartedly.

you then washed him, becoming shy when reaching his lower stomach, looking up at him with a shy smile and fluttering lashes. rafe looks down at you knowingly, his lips quirking up and lust clouding his eyes.

" y'askin' for permission?" he cocks his head, bringing his hand to smoothen out your wet hair.

you bite you lip timidly and nod, eagerly waiting for his verdict. he waits a moment, before nodding. "aight, go for it".

you get down on your knees, looking up at him through you lashes as your hands move to wrap around his base, and your lips shyly kiss his tip, not breaking eye contact for a second. rafe groan, before letting out a breathy chuckle. "nah, nah, fuck this. j'need to be in ya," he states as he pulls you up. "sound good, princess?"

you nod eagerly, very pleased with where this was headed. "mhm"

rafe lifts you up, allowing your to wrap you legs around his his waist as he pressed you against the shower wall, placing sloppy kisses on the wet skin of your necks as you whimper pathetically, your noises echoing against the close walls.

rafe aligns himself with your entrance and slides himself in, making sure to look in your eyes as he does so.

eye contact was a really big thing for rafe - there was something so intimate about it that you loved, as well. it was really hot for the both of you, and it got you going each and every time.

rafe rythmically moved himself in and out of you as you threw your head back against the cold shower wall and whined, babbling and begging incoherently.

your nails scratched downs his back as he pounded himself into you, muttering dirty things against your lips, only bringing you closer to your climax.

"yeah? feels good, huh?"

"y'close? is that what your sayin'?"

you would reply, but your words were rushed and blended all together, coming across inaudible. rafe would tease and mock you in reply, saying something like, "s'that so?" or, "oh yeah? tell me more baby".

it didn't take too long for the both of you to cum, not once looking away from each others eyes. rafe hips spluttered against your, and he let out a low, guttural groan, fucking the last of his cum deep inside of you. your head is throw back again, as you close your eyes to catch your breath. rafe grabs your hips to lift you back to the ground, and and cups your face as you smile tiredly up at him.

"gimme a kiss," rafe mutters through a soft smile, guiding you face close to his as you gift him a soft yet steamy kiss.

rafe cleaned the both of you up, and you finished in the shower, drying yourselfs off before simply jump back in bed naked, to enjoy the rest of your day off.

[rafetopia]

𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐮𝐦

- 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader (they’re both a lil dark)

genre: smut

words: ~ 1.6k

warnings: smut, knife play/kink, blood kink (I think), p in v, orgasm denial, semi public sex, daddy kink (think), probably choking, name calling

pls let me know if I forgot something because this is a repost and I can’t remember

summary: you push his buttons and have to deal with the consequences

note: this is a repost from my old blog

also thanks to my love @jjsbank444 for picking out the pictures because I was too lazy and tired

If you are already on my tag list (link is at the end) I’m sorry I didn’t tag u but I didn’t set up the app yet on my new phone and I don’t wanna get my laptop (yes this all pure laziness I’m sorry) but for the next five, I’ll set it all up I promise!

You felt the alcohol circulating through your veins, as you swung your hips to the beat of the music. You had your hands placed on the chest of the boy in front of you, as he had his hands wrapped around your waist. He was off rhythm, but that didn’t stop the the boy of your desire to stare daggers through your soul. He was leaning against a wall, with a drink in his hand and a cigarette dancing around his fingers.

You knew what you were doing was dangerous, but that was what kept you going. You loved the feeling of his eyes burning through your skin and the dirtier you danced, the stronger it got. You swung yourself around, now grinding your ass against the boy behind you. You felt his erection pressing against your skin, it was strong, and you were sure if it wasn’t for the strong material of his expensive jeans, it would’ve broken right through.

You turned your head to the side where your eyes were landing on the boy leaning against the wall. You mustered him, just as he’d mustered you the whole time. He was dressed completely in black, a match to the darkness in his eyes. He had lit the cigarette by now, taking it every few seconds. You could smell the smoke traveling over to you, burning itself through your throat just as much as his gaze burned through your skin.

You felt the blonde’s hands crawling around your waist and up to your tits until they disappeared completely beneath them. You looked back at the boy at the wall, shooting him a quick and provocative smirk, before you spun yourself back around, and whispered something into your partner's ear. The way his face lit up was enough to tell the other one what was about to happen. Without wasting any time, he grabbed your hand and guided you outside.

You let out a soft giggle, as the boy shoved you against the cold stonewall of the house. Before you could even do anything, he had cornered you in, his eyes mustering your face from hair to chin. You smiled, as he pushed his lips on yours, not even wasting any time before forcing his tongue onto your mouth. You were about to do the same when he suddenly got pulled away and slammed onto the wall next to you.

“What the fuck, Cameron?” The blonde exclaimed, shock written all over his face.

“Get lost.” The dark-haired pressed through his lips.

“Why?” He chuckled.

The other one smiled before his hand reached into his back pocket. “Because I fucking told you so.” He answered calmly, as he opened the knife in his hand and pressed it against the skin of his opponent.

The blonde one swallowed, as he slowly held his hands up, signaling him that he gave up. Rafe smirked, before pulling the knife away and grabbing the boy by his jacket, showing him away from the two of you.

“Took you long enough.” You smiled, clearly amused by the scene that had just played in front of you.

He turned his attention back to you, a disbelieving scoff leaving his lips. He let the knife dance through his fingers, just as he did with the cigarette before. The blade reflected the light of the moon, almost blending you as he stepped towards you. He smirked, as he stopped in front of you, waiting a second before he grabbed you by the throat and pushed you into the wall behind you. You let out a small wimmer but it died as he tightened his grip.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He growled into your ear.

“Nothing.” You whispered, but barely got the words out.

“Didn’t look like fucking nothing to me!” He pressed out, as he let go of your throat. You gasped for air but as soon as you were able to breathe again, another smirk crawled over your lips.

“Nothing you didn’t do before.”

He looked back at you, eyes turning darker than the night. You saw how angry he got but it only made you want to continue. You loved seeing him angry like this and even though you weren’t paying attention, you noticed the first drops of juice dripping through your folds. Your eyes went down to the blade dancing between his fingers but other than before, it wasn’t just the handle brushing over his skin, no this time it was the metal and it was already red with blood dripping down the blade. Your mouth watered at the sight of it, and as much as you tried to hide it, he saw the excitement on your face.

“You don’t learn do you?” He chuckled, as he looked down on his bloody hand. “Do I really need to teach you again?”

“Teach me what? You asked, a fake sound of innocence lingering over your voice.

“Don’t play dumb with me, sweetheart.” He smiled as he got closer to you. “You know exactly what I mean. Keep doing what you’re doing and I’ll never give you what you want.”

“We will see about that.” You smirked, before taking his hand and sucking the blood off his fingers, causing him to scoff once again. He tried to hide it but you could see his cheeks blushing at the sight in front of him. He would never admit verbally how much he enjoyed it, but the bulge in his pants spoke for itself.

He then leaned in and kissed you, passionately so he could taste himself on your tongue. His left hand traveled under your skirt, playing around with your covered clit, just enough to get you moaning into his mouth. He let out a soft chuckle as he felt your juice dripping right through the fabric, before pulling his knife up and pressing it against your throat.

“Turn around.”

“Why?” You asked, almost disappointed that you didn’t get to see his pretty face.

“Because brats don’t get eye contact while I fuck them.“

You did as told, now facing the dark stonewall in front of you. He turned your head to the side so he could still see you, before letting two of his fingers slip under your panties. You felt the sharp blade press deeper into your skin with every moan escaping your lips but it just felt too good for you to care. You didn’t care if he cut into you, it wouldn’t have been the first time. He was slow, so slow he knew how it pissed you off. You hated teasing which was only why he enjoyed it so much.

“Please…” You mumbled between your moans.

“What, please? Use your words, princess…”

“Please Rafe, I wanna cum.”

“Say that again, I didn’t quite hear you.” He hissed, pressing the knife deeper into your skin.

“Please Daddy, I wanna cum.”

“Hmm.” He chuckled, “But only good girls get to cum.”

“C- Can be good, daddy!” You mumbled, desperately trying to get him to fuck you into the wall.

“Hmmm. I’ll believe that when I see it.” He paused, as he saw your hand traveling down to your clit. “You can start by keeping those hands away.”

You did as told and without a warning, he ripped apart your thong, so he’d have better access to your core. You whimpered under his touch, only craving more the deeper he slid his fingers into you. He went fast and the faster he got, the harder it became for you to keep your hands away. You wanted to cum so bad and you knew if you’d just rub yourself a little bit… but you also knew that he was serious so you had to keep your hands away.

Without saying a word, he stopped and opened his belt, pulling out what you were craving the most. Before you could even acknowledge what was about to happen, he had forced himself into you, causing you to cry out.

“Such a fucking slut.” He mumbled as he thrusted into you. “Playing all those dirty games…just to get fucked by my cock…”

He sped up his pace and the faster his movements got, the deeper his knife pressed against your skin, until you could feel a warm substance flowing down your neck. It almost didn’t hurt, the pleasure you felt beneath your legs being way stronger than the pain the knife had caused. He was rough and thrust into you deep and careless, hitting exactly where you wanted him to hit. You were obsessed with the mixture of pain and pleasure, it was exactly what you needed to come close to your high. Rafe noticed you got close, as your moans turned into screams and he was sure by now, the whole party knew what you were doing around the corner. He smirked at the way your moans got louder and louder, as it brought him close to his own high. He loved the sight in front of him, you desperately clinging onto the wall with a knife pressed against your throat and his other hand wrapped around your waist. It was his favorite sight.

“So close, daddy.” You whispered, tears streaming down your beautiful eyes as you tried desperately not to scream over the yard.

“Yeah? Then scream for me. Louder.” He growled as if he could read your mind.

You did as told and let out a loud the most pornographic moan that ever left your lips. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach tighten and tighten and just when you were about to reach your high, he pulled out.

“What the fuck?” You whimpered in disappointment. You were about to complain further when you felt his hot breath burning your skin, followed by the words: “Like I said sweetheart, only good girls get to cum.” He paused, pressing the knife deeper into your skin, “And you have been a fucking brat tonight.”

add yourself to me taglist here

[eddiediazismyhusband]

My (embarrassingly okay-ish) 9-1-1 Sims

so I do not claim to be good at remaking real people in the sims... I want to go ahead and get that out of the way first and foremost

however I don't think I did *terrible* on these sims (some are definitely better than others) but with that said, here are my 9-1-1 sims

(please don't judge me too hard)

Evan "Buck" Buckley

the tattoo cc I made for buck is definitely way out-of-date, but alas i am too lazy to go back and make a new tattoo to add all of his current 6,000 tattoos (love your tats oliver but no thanks <3) Including that last shirtless pic to show them off a little better.

Eddie Diaz

I know that Eddie doesn't have Ryan's map&compass tattoo in the show but I love that tattoo on Ryan so I included it on Eddie. I chose this hair for him bc I wanted to like blend the length it's at now with his s6 style a little bit- very floofy yet tidy, but also not a schoolboy or slicked back to the gods.

Maddie Han

I think I spent hours trying to get JLH's face as perfect as I could in-game and honestly I don't hate the outcome? like it's definitely NOT perfect by any means, but I think Maddie is one of my favorite sims in terms of how she turned out.

Chimney Han

Chimney is where things started to go a little downhill for me... I don't know why, but after HOURS of working, I just cold not get him right so I eventually had to sit back, take a deep breath, and say 'this is as good as it's gonna get.' I'd like to issue my formal apology to Kenneth Choi for this <3 (pls don't judge too harshly I swear I tried)

Karen Wilson

Karen, like Chimney, was a sim I spent HOURS on trying to get right, but for some reason I just could not for the life of me perfectly replicate Tracie's face... and unfortunately when I first made these sims (a LONG time ago) there wasn't a hair that fit Karen perfectly until (imo) THIS one came with the Lovestruck Expansion pack... I did make the executive decision to give her light brown hair rather than the blonde/brown she actually has, because the blonde in-game looked weird on her. I know these aren't her classic dreads, but I feel like they evoke the general vibe of hers better than some of the options we have in-game.

Hen Wilson

so Hen turned out being one of my favorites. I really love the outfits I picked out for her (bc lets be honest Hen loves wearing some of the WILDEST fits on the show) but unfortunately, this game hates to give female sims just plain slacks that are higher-waisted, so I was stuck with a cc pair that don't quite match but what can I do

Bobby Nash

yet another sim who I feel like I missed the mark on- Peter Krause's face was just IMPOSSIBLE to replicate, so I did my best. I also made the executive decision to not go full-grey for Bobby bc then he looked ancient rather than just late-50s.

Athena Grant

All I have to say about Athena is ANGELA BASSETT DID THE THING (also the cop outfit does NOT do her justice in this- I promise I worked hard to make sure Athena was giving just as much mommy vibes as she does on the show in her other outfits) (she's also ripped as fuck in my game bc I said so)

May Grant

I have a love-hate relationship with this sim because I spent so much time trying to perfectly replicate Corrinne's face, but no matter what I did there was always something that was always just the tiniest bit off... she's definitely not the worst of these sims though

Ravi Panikkar

all I have to say about Ravi is that if they want to give him a boyfriend in s8 i am available, and willing to travel to shoot in Los Angeles-

Also, I DID make a Josh sim, but I accidentally deleted him bc my mouse battery was dying and it was glitching out and i misclicked the "yes delete" button rather than the "don't delete" on the "are you sure?" tab and I didn't feel like going back and finding him again in the depths of my library so I will have to remake him :/

Oh and I made Chris too but every child sim looks exactly the same so he doesn't look anything like Gavin, but that was out of my hands I fear 💀

But anyway, these are my 9-1-1 sims... I made these forever ago and went through last night and updated their hair/outfits, but I haven't touched their physical attributes since I first made them. I'm excited to start playing with them again 😭😭

[luveternals]

paring: 1. simon 'ghost' riley x mercenary male reader rating: mature, MDNI cw: implied killing, mention of killing, tell me if I missed anything (a little rushed bc I'm trying to build a schedule here ;^; sorry! I'll fix it later, promise.) ~ ~ ~

It’s the perfect night for a kill.

The moon shines bright up above, but it’s a pale wonder in comparison to the lights hanging over the city square. You’re sitting at one of the tables set near the center for the event.

Your target is a nobody, a goon bold enough to try his fortune, lucky enough to succeed. Feeling generous, you let him have his moment, let him bask in the attention. Before you'll rip it away, hands stained with his blood.

The guy doesn’t seem a threat to anyone but himself, and you have to wonder what he could have possibly done to have you, of all people, be sent after him. Sometimes not asking questions does make your job harder.

But the money is convenient, and you're not giving that up.

You stand, empty glass abandoned on the table, let your lips spread into a lazy grin, and move to blend in with the crowd.

The man sits at the bar, the conversation with his admirers forgotten in favor of the fresh refill of his sparkling drink the bartender sets in front of him. “This one’s for you,” you imagine the bartender say, “offered by the anonymous stranger over there with the charming smile.”

It’s not hard to step to the counter and steal a seat right next to his while he stares at the glass. His eyes are glazed over when he meets your gaze, alcohol burning a pleasurable chill through his vein.

Face flushed, pupils dictated, and lips pulls into an awkward grin, he leans against the counter. “My luck really isn't over yet, eh,” he slurps and raises his drink to tip it your way, “Don’t need anyone to pay for me, but why pass the chance to meet the handsome man that comes with the free drink?”

“i wonder, is a simple close up of my face all you’d expected to get alongside it?” you say, amused.

He perks up and sits up. “Well,” he says stretching the word, “are you offering anything else? Would love t’know,” he leams forward and runs his gaze down your body.

You press your lips into a thin line and have to fight for it not to turn into a grimace. At least he wasn’t dumb enough to just reach over and touch.

“I think we should move somewhere else so you can find out, hmm?”

You don’t know how people do it, to use your body to get what you want out of your victim. But in such a crowded space and so in the open, there is little else you could do to get him to move somewhere more secluded.

Besides meeting your target here does have its own little perks. Especially for someone with his own little bounty on the back of his head.

There are too many people to keep track of unless your following your target close up or from a high vantage point.

“After you,” you say and when he turns away to leave, you turn your head and shift your attention upwards. There’s a hotel facing right towards the square, windows sparkling as they reflect the event's lights.

You don’t have to scan the building to find your own hunter.

The light of his own room have been left off, strategically placed between other empty rooms to avoid suspicion. But years of this life have taught you where to look and when you send a wink his way through the lens of his scope, you know he had him.

You turn back around to follow your own target, exposing your back to a possible bullet to the neck.

He won't shoot anyway.

Not now, not here. Not when it would send the people into a panic. Not when you are more valuable alive than dead — if they ever get their hands on you in the first place, of course.

It’s a perfect night for a kill, yes. And perhaps, for a close up to a different face as well. One that is hidden behind a mask, which despite, his believes, doesn’t add to his anonymity. You think it only adds to his fame, really.

-

Killing is inconvenient.

Despite the money it can land you if you have the right contacts and skill set, killing is inconvenient.

The body you are left with. The blood that clings to every surface like a witness. And all other clues and tracks you might leave behind if you're not careful.

Setting things right as if you’re innocent is what takes up most of the work and time. The planning, the actually doing the act, the aftermath.

It’s late into the night when you finish the deed. It’s late into the night when a white skull appears from the shadows, the moonlight spilling into the room from the balcony accentuates every detail.

He leans against the wall and watches you in silence. You'd be impressed that he found you, if you hadn't lead him here yourself.

“Is this how you make friends?” you ask, leaning back against the kitchen island of your new, little safe place for the night. “Creep on them from the darkest shadows?”

“You knew I was there,” he says, voice flat and gaze burning from inside the eye holes.

“Did I?” you say and let out a chuckle, “and you let me go through with my job after all. I’m surprised.”

You push yourself off the island and step forward, closer. Slow and calculate.

He watches you, but doesn’t twitch a muscle when you stop at stabbing distance. “I wonder. Is my employer joining forces with you to pay his debt to me?” you say. “Or do you need my service and my target tonight was a simple nuisance to you?”

“We don’t work with criminals.”

“Of course not,” you say with a dangerous grin, “so, who's my new target? Mind you, I have a different price for you.”

He crosses his arms and squints at you in suspicion. “Which is?”

“I think you can figure it out yourself. I like money, but I don’t have any real need for it.”

Infamous Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley. He would be quite the price instead, you think.

Whoever the new bounty is, their days are over.

~ ~ ~ a/n: just telling ya, reader isn't the same as the last story, not crazy! Just in for the fun XD disclaimer: I don't know bananas about military nor cod. just here for the fun too :)

[ffxivaltaholic]

Prompt #10: Stable

#FFxivWrite2024

"Aaaaand Done!" A delighted bristling of the Miqo'te's fluffy tail would accompany her pleased grin. "Now you look perfect for your date!" Taking a small mirror and bringing it to the Raen woman, N'akani beamed with pride at her handiwork. While the Seeker was a bit of a lazy freeloader, she had a talent with makeup and henna. Taking the Mirror and shifting to look at her face, the Raen woman offered a dazzling smile in response. "You are truly gifted." Ame examined her eyes, in awe of the color blending and flawless finish she'd been given. Standing with hands parked at her hips, N'akani gave the Aura a once over, checking her for any loose whisps of hair, and the makeup for anything out of place, down to a single lash. "You're going to look so pretty that he's going to be weak the moment you grace his presence!" She chirped and circled the regal blonde Raen for one final look, fixing a strand of hair. "Will you be back tonight?" Trying to hide her envy as she cleaned up her brushes and makeup. Sitting as if a lady in a painting, Ame folded her hands on her lap. "No, but we'll be back in the morning." The Seeker's ears immediately drooped, and it was obvious that her disappointment loomed over her. The Raen did her best to hide a little, knowing, smirk. "You should dress up as well, go out for the night." Not that N'akani needed to much encouragement to glam up, but she wanted to go out with them. Even though they both got their individual time with him, she wanted both of their attentions equally. "Yeah I suppose..." The energy had depleted and as Ame rose to start dressing, the Miqo'te sat in her place, applying her own makeup. Few words were exchanged and it was becoming increasingly difficult for Ame to stay quiet about the evening, but she had to pretend until the right moment. An hour passed before both were dressed and ready, looking as if they were going to a high-end restaurant or a fancy show. As expect, waiting out front the tall Raen man tried to be patient. He had learned that anything involving N'akani was never, ever, on time. "Kaze!" Ame waved to him, pulling N'akani along gently behind her. It was finally time and she could barely contain her excitement, coming to a halt in front of him. A small, knowing, nod was exchanged between the Aura and they both shifted their gaze to N'akani, the gloom hovering over her like a little storm cloud.

"N'akani." His voice smooth and gentle as he tried to coax her to look at him. It took a moment before those fluffy black ears would perk up and her attention shifted to Kaze's face. "You look lovely." Even though she was upset, the Seeker couldn't help but take the compliment with unbridled joy, her tail swishing back and forth. "I hope you two have fun tonight..." Trying her very best to be sincere and supportive, N'akani forced a small smile at her partners. In truth, this was the first time in her life she had truly been stable, with a consistent roof over her head, food on the table and trusted people... Safe people. A bit of guilt hit as she realized her mood was going to negatively impact the evening, after all they had done for her to ensure her happiness. It was only one night. Individual dates were not even unusual and he had taken her on one the previous week, but she wanted to spend time with them together. Finally Ame could not take waiting any longer and she nudged her partner, getting a slight look of 'what the fuck' from him, until it clicked a moment later and he muttered. "Right.. yes." Before shifting to grab a small container from a pocket. "Uh N'akani." He watched the Seeker perk up again, her face a mix of confusion and joy, thinking perhaps they would come back this evening instead of staying in Kugane. "You're coming too..." The truth of their little plan was revealed, the suggestion to go out on her own, a ruse by Ame to get her dressed up so they could take her out with them. There was a moment where silence reigned between the three as it seemed to process like slowly turning cogs for the Miqo'te. Then it clicked. "A-ah... Really?" Both ears perked right up, though her attention shifted from their faces to the small box Kaze held, confused but piqued. As he turned to look at Ame, she opened the container, with a small promise ring inside, bearing three colored stones in it, one black, one pink and the last a vibrant yellow. Stunned at the thoughtful gift, N'akani looked between them before her eyes welled up and a few tears fell. "Of course. We should get going though, we are on a timeline." Kaze chuckled and took hold of her hand, sliding the little gold ring on while Ame dabbed under her eyes to catch the tears and spare the makeup from smudging. Those gestures nearly brought more tears to the Seeker's eyes, but she managed to compose herself, for the sake of the makeup.

But by the twelve... It felt so wonderful to be loved.

[orange-demons-deactivated2024]

Thoughts?...

Would anyone be down if I added people into the Street Fighter universe who are not canon, they are strictly characters that appear in Buckler's boot camp. I know in the canon world tour story, we meet Bosch for a day and it spiraled into a full-blown friendship out of nowhere.

But I at least try to drag the story out in my Bosch x reader fics so there's more time for them to actually have a relationship before they go their separate ways. The time frame is probably 1-2 years.

I was thinking in the 1-2 year time frame, Bosch and you would have probably made a couple of friends in the camp. And realistically the both of you wouldn't be the only ones talking to each other all the time.

So how would you all feel if I started to add new characters in future fanfics, or should I not do it. Here are the characters that I'm thinking of adding :

Kali- She is an eager new face who decided to join Buckler's boot camp because she saw how cool you looked on Footube. Kali always had an affinity for street fighting, but seeing you take down opponents twice your size really reeled it in for her. She wants to train under you because you have a unique blend of fighting styles. similar to how Sakura idolizes Ryu.

Javi/Javier- He's a more laid-back fighter who doesn't take anything too seriously. You can find him napping on a bench or outside the training mats. He's the kind of guy you see in college where he shows up but sleeps through the entire class. The funny thing is, he's a really good fighter that lays you and bosch on your ass more times than you can count. Too bad he's too lazy to do much and he likes to push people's buttons, so that's always fun. He occasionally partners with Bosch for intense sparring sessions.

Yi Cheng- He's a big, sweet fellow, who also participates in the Buckler's boot camp. Cheng’s not as serious as some people but he likes to work out with everyone, and share some of the snacks with other trainees. He's a super-friendly guy who likes to eat a lot. But he's happy and no one's complaining. He also helps out with his family's restaurant, Jumping Shrimp. He actually joined because of the high crime rate in the area and he doesn't want his parents to fall victim to a couple of thugs, so he wants to give them a sense of security. Cheng is the friendliest person you can meet at the gym.

These characters are more subdued because you and Bosch are the more intense ones in the gym. You both are there from almost morning to night, always preaching about wanting to be stronger. So naturally the both of you are rivals.

Thoughts on this? yes? no? maybe?

edit- Yeruo is traditionally a girl's name. I'm sorry for the misunderstanding everyone, it was poor research on my part. His name is going to be changed to Yi Cheng.

[woobly]

PLUCK MY HEARTSTRINGS. track_013 — infinite rizz

𓂋˚˖ PAIRING. rival band lead guitarist! sunwoo x band rhythm guitarist! fem! reader

𓂋˚˖ GENRE. social media au with some written text, rivals to lovers, band au, college au, fluff, crack, angst

𓂋˚˖ WC. 1.4k words (pretty rushed n dialogue-heavy bc im kinda lazy,, mb)

𓂋˚˖ A/N. hello i am back from hell ..... (technically not rlly bc i still have 2-3 midterms this week but soon 🤞🏼🤞🏼)

𓂋˚˖ SYNOPSIS. competing against a rapidly rising all-male band from another school at an intercollegiate music festival doesn't really sound too bad on the surface. until you see their lead guitarist—the same boy who always made sure you knew who was the better guitarist between the two of you in high school.

masterlist. previous. next.

Saturday afternoon finally came around, meaning you were currently hanging out with your bandmates and your practice room neighbors. You all decided to have a picnic at the park that happened to be right smack in the middle of IST and Cre.ker, the two universities that you and your friends were attending. Yes, friends—whether you consider Sunwoo a friend was still up for debate, but his other band members were definitely fun to be around.

About an hour had already passed since you and Ryujin arrived with snacks in hand. The others brought the other essentials—picnic blankets, an acoustic guitar, bluetooth speakers, and even more food. The picnic had been going pretty well, with people recognizing some of you (mostly the guys) and Jacob providing relaxing background music with his guitar. Haewon was present as well, even if she isn’t part of either band, but no one seemed to mind since she blended in almost too easily.

Just before the sun was about to set, Haewon announced that she had to leave early.

“Sorry guys, I have a gig in an hour,” she shyly admitted as she began fixing her things.

“You perform too?”

“No, I do modeling sometimes,” Half the group gasped, while the other half nodded in understanding, causing her to giggle. Once she was ready to to leave, she approached you first, crouching beside you. “Y/N, are you free tomorrow?”

You turn to her suddenly confused. “I have some errands to do in the afternoon, but otherwise, yeah. Why do you ask?”

“Do you wanna hang out with me for lunch then? There’s this restaurant I’ve always wanted to try,”

You blinked blankly at her a few times before glancing at Sunwoo who’s already been looking at the two of you. “What about Sunwoo? And Eric?”

Haewon glanced at them as well, then smiled and turned back to you. “Oh, I’ve had enough of them for now. I wanna catch up with you,”

You would be lying if you said you weren’t taken aback, but you agreed anyway.

“Great! I’ll send you the address later.” she said before bidding her final farewells to the rest of the group and walking back to her car, with Sunwoo tagging along.

“Were you ever close with her?” Ryujin, who was seated next to you and eavesdropped on your conversation with Haewon, suddenly asked, bringing you back to reality from mindlessly staring at Haewon and Sunwoo walking away.

“Um, no actually. She was always in a different class. Kinda wish she wasn’t though, maybe I could’ve gotten higher grades in groupworks,” you joked, causing Ryujin to smile and scoff.

“Do you think it’s weird?”

“What’s weird?”

“Her asking you out for lunch like that in front of everyone,”

“You don’t think I’m the type to get asked out like that?” you joked again, trying your best to sound as offended as possible.

Giving up, Ryujin sighed and said, “Never mind I asked,” and took a piece of her french fries.

Giggling, you also took one of her fries and dipped it in your cookies and cream ice cream before popping it into your mouth. “I’m kidding. I’m sure she doesn’t mean it like that. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with hanging out and reconnecting,”

“Still. If she really is asking you out, you better say no because I was already thinking about asking her out,”

“You what?” Another voice suddenly joined your conversation, a voice distinctly Sunwoo’s.

“Yeah, you got a problem with that, Mr. ‘I got infinite rizz’?”

“I do actually,”

“Oh? And why is that?” You merely chuckle as you watched them bicker and Sunwoo eventually having to admit defeat.

“Guys, can we please cut the cake now?” Hyunjae whines out of nowhere, and you slightly cringe watching the older boy act like a child.

“Wait, let’s take pictures first!”

After settling down from the quick photoshoot under the setting sun, Sangyeon and Seunghee begin passing slices of the celebratory cake they bought. As you ate your share, you noticed Sunwoo removing the berries on his slice.

“You don’t like the berries?”

“No, you can have them,”

Hesitantly, you took one of the berries he set aside on his plate. Plopping it in your mouth, you smiled and swayed a little, happy from receiving extra free food. Sunwoo watched you take his food and simply chuckled.

Borrowing (read: stealing) Jacob’s guitar, Sunwoo began to play random chords. You couldn’t help watching in awe since he was seated next to you as you continued eating your slice of cake. You kept switching from looking at his right hand that was plucking by the sound hole and his left hand that was smoothly switching positions on the fretboard. Everything about the way he handled the guitar was so serene, grasp ever gentle and fingers calm and relaxed—much different compared to how he played on stage. You didn’t realize you were watching so intently until you heard Hyunjae’s laugh suddenly boom from where he was standing.

Snapping out of your trance, you look away for a second and speak loud enough just for Sunwoo to hear.

“What song is that?”

Sunwoo hummed, as if to contemplate a seemingly simple question. “Nothing. I don’t think we’re close enough for me to tell you yet,”

“Oh? But I think I know you quite well already. You’re kinda easy to read,”

“And what might you have concluded from reading me so well?” he playfully said, finally looking up from the guitar in his hands.

You smiled, already knowing where this is going. “That you may or may not have a teeny tiny crush on someone I know,”

Sunwoo’s face goes slightly pale, and he pauses his movements, momentarily forgetting the next chord of the same pattern he’s been playing for a while. You laughed at his reaction, it was priceless, but practically confirming with the boy himself that he did in fact liked Haewon felt a little weird.

Suddenly becoming defensive, Sunwoo raises his hand in an attempt to redeem himself. “Okay, to be fair, that was high school. I don’t—”

“What?! Oh my god, this is worse than I thought,” laughing your ass off, he tried to calm you down but to no avail. When you finally caught your breath, you looked at Sunwoo and chuckled at him.

“Please tell me you wrote a song about her,”

Sunwoo looked at you with obvious defeat and lied down with his back on the picnic mat.

“Oh my god,” you chuckled again, but this time, you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh as much anymore. “Okay, I’ll stop. But not without hearing it,”

“You’ve been listening to it the entire time,”

You gasped, finally connecting the dots. But somewhere between all the putting two and two together, you remembered the serenity that had been radiating off of him earlier, and that tugged at you a little, knowing the reason behind that peacefulness.

“Got any lyrics?”

“Just one or two. I never really knew how to put it into words,”

You watched him watch the clouds move above you. He was responding to you, and yet his mind seemed to be so far away, perhaps lost among the puffs of gray that the breeze carried away.

“Play it again,”

“No, I wanna lie down,”

“Play it again,”

He sighed, sitting up and resting his hands on the guitar once again. As you paid more attention to the song, you began humming melodies and blurting out cliche lines that only a teenager with a crush would say.

As time went on, you began coming up with random lyrics about laundry and taxes, causing you both to laugh at how unserious the atmosphere had become. You were so busy busting out verses that neither of you noticed the others beginning to pack up.

“Give it up, guys. We’ve been listening to the same song for hours,”

“Y/N, let’s go home. I thought you had a project proposal due soon,” Ryujin whined as she started to feel tired.

“Shit, I forgot!” you cursed as you packed up your things as well. Sunwoo watched you leave his side and felt a little awkward just sitting there with the guitar, so he decided to help the rest pack up.

Before you knew it, everyone was already saying their goodbyes and beginning to walk back home.

masterlist. previous. next.

𓂋˚˖ TAGLIST. @wooyoung-a @nyujjan @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @ja4hyvn @ahnneyong @noempathyy @2hyunjae @sunwoahkim @sunnysunuu @feireads @igotkpoops @ilovechanhee @baehaechannie @mochibabycakes @ilvaussie @justsayk @beomsun @aurumness @pengbi @meowtella @ily-cuz-i @kiyokoism @erodemyedges @kswr1d @neoguriku @hwasatiny @woosunnie [open, dm/send an ask to join!] — bold cannot be tagged

© woobly, 2023. all rights reserved.

[leefi]

The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere Read-through | Part 1: Chapters 1-14

Part 1: 1-14 | Part 2: 14-22 | Part 3: 22-34 | Part 4: 34-64 | Part 5: 64-80 | Part 6: 81-90 | Part 7: 90-100 | Part 8: 100-127 (caught up here)

Hi!!!! I've been reading through this webnovel after seeing @ot3's pitch for it and started writing down some thoughts on the characters and worldbuilding and imminent murdering. This story is very, very long and I only reacted up to about chapter 33, so most of my thoughts will involve the worldbuilding and less the murder mystery aspect -- so if you're looking for theorizing you won't find much of that here. Since I'll be continuing eventually, I wanted to post what I did make note of to revisit later!

Most of these are not marked by chapter/section because I was lazy and I'm not sure how easy it will be to follow as a result, but everything is chronological.

everyone here is hijabi mashallah

The visual I'm getting of the solar system/local system/dimension they inhabit is kind of a blend of steampunk and fantasy and uhh some secret third thing. With the walls of their "universe" painted in that puella dollhouse witch lair style. Does the sun bounce around like a screensaver. Does it orbit their earth or is it on a fixed axis flung out into “space”? Does “space” even exist anymore? I’m assuming they’re in an enclosed area that they've created. Do they actively use arcane resources to keep objects (ie star and planets) sustaining themselves, or have they made them self sufficient?

everyone is so mean to Ptolema leave her alone what the fuckk let a bimbo live i want to kill you all you’re so annoying. Ptolema I WOULD be your friend and not ask all these weird ass questions. and we would hold hands and skip and giggle

Yes shes an airhead nepo baby but you guys could try doing anything other than snickering and rolling your eyes whenever she says stupid shit. If she starts arguing back about government war crimes during the Revolution or something then you have my blessing to beat her ass!

I HATE kamsurepa i HATE her i HAYE Her and her stupid ass name

Ran and Su have no chemistry its insane that theyre always hanging out every conversation is like uhhh (awkward silence) (rude comment from Ran) *Su voice* wow she gets me so well. every time they talk im like what the fuck just happened.

Su’s internal narration is too self aware for me. it’s like she talks like she knows she’s a character? or something. it's self-deprecating in a very bizarre way

im sorry i don’t know if i can continue with this. i know too many med students irl and these characters are literally pissing me off. compliments to the author for realism you knocked it out of the park

Oh, thank you very much!" Kam said, reverting back to her smiley-diplomatic form for a moment before stepping away from the counter and continuing as she handed us the cards. "...as far as it seems to me, the desire to reproduce is essentially an immature form of pursuing life-extension - this idea that you'll 'live on through your children' that's patently pseudo-mysticism justifying what is ultimately an animal instinct." ⬇️ I’m going to grab her ginger head and swing her around like bowser in mario 64. SHUT UPPPPP SHUT UP please tell me shes the one that dies

You know," I mused idly, my eyes wandering. "I think this is actually the fourth glass ceiling I've seen today." "Mm, it's true that you don't see a lot of women working in Aetheromancy," ⬇️ I know this is a small nitpick but aren’t we really far into the future why do they keep using terms like this 😭 gendered stuff like this still exists billions? trillions? of years into the future?

Why has the disco elysium skill tree randomly started talking to su. Is this her future self nagging her. Is she pulling a han sooyoung. when do we get to the various utsushikome ego deaths

"prosognostic overlap"…do ppl repeat faces? Are most people cloned at this point? What triggered the need for cloning surely medicine is advanced enough that childbirth or test tube babies are feasible? Can bodies be cloned and reinhabited to inhibit aging? Is there some disturbing psychological element to seeing someone with the same face as you? Does it make your brain short circuit? Kam mentioned having children earlier which I assume means people still give birth or have test tube babies, so i don’t know if it’s the result of cloning…but it does sound like a sameface sort of thing. What else would it be if not that though?

Actually, if they’ve figured out teleportation (whatever it was called when they went up the aetherbridge) - let's say they can atomize a body and reforming it elsewhere (though we don't know for sure yet, could also be a fold in spacetime) - transferring consciousness to an empty clone of yourself (and therefore effectively doing away with aging or death wholesale) sounds a lot more efficient and technologically practical than maintaining an organic system that naturally decays. Why keep on finding ways to push the human body past its limits when you could simply transfer a person to a new, identical vessel?

I feel like the key to immortality isn’t maintaining an organic body, which naturally tends towards systems of entropy (being a biological thing, entropy=decay), but rather delineating and separating human consciousness from its host and replicating its original environment perfectly. I’m not talking about making a copy of consciousness, which is just glorified cloning - I’m talking about *transferring* a consciousness.

You could almost call dementia itself the mind's tendency towards its own kind of entropy?

Though if you transfer a consciousness to a younger body, the dementia issue could still potentially remain. Depends on if it the author sees it as a solely physical phenomena (atrophy/buildup of inhibitors of the brain) or there's some metaphysical anomaly about amassing too many memories/"existing" too long in general

The way spellwork is described is really cool and feels super believable. Optimizing multiple concurrent spells into one “function” is intricate and sophisticated, and you have to dedicate a lot of brainpower to doing the math in your head. It’s like they’re coding the real world. I love the way lurina describes this it's awesome.

[chromanticore]

I think one of the things that doesn’t get brought up enough about living with a chronic condition is that it becomes so painfully clear that some of your loved ones flat out hate you. Anger, frustration, confusion, and yes, jealousy are all too common reactions that non disabled folks tend to have towards their disabled friends and family. And when it’s family, it sucks on a whole other level, because on one hand they are people who claim to love and support you, but on the other are comfortable interacting with you in a way that they wouldn’t be with a stranger or acquaintance.

“I wish I could lay in bed all day do I nothing!” I don’t know how to tell you this, but no, you fucking don’t. It’s literally hell to be stuck in your own body like this, and your assumption that I’m just having the time of my life shows just how little you understand about chronic illness.

“You’re just lazy!” I have multiple doctors who beg to differ, but you know better than them about what’s going on in my body, right?

“I wish the government would pay me to sit around all day long doing nothing!” If this is the first thought you have after learning about someone’s disability, What The Actual Fuck Is Wrong With You?? I would also like to kindly point out that the stipend you might receive is barely enough to live on. Disability often forces us to rely on the very people who literally hate us for not being as “useful” as them. In fact, that blend of “steady income but not enough to actually live on” make us prime targets for abusers who basically only value us for that stipend. We’re not mooching off anyone, and it’s more than likely that someone is mooching of us. And if we have anything contradictory to say then we’re “ungrateful for everything that they do for us” and anything else they can think to accuse us of. After a point, anything anyone does for us becomes something to feel guilty about. Any time I prioritize myself, I am treated like some selfish narcissistic jerk who doesn’t care about anyone else by the very people who have made it their life mission to remind me of my “inferiority”.

Like, I’m not mooching off anybody, babe. I am a prisoner. I want to be self-reliant and not have to rely on others for my basic needs. That’s it, that’s my whole life goal. To be able to care for myself. It has taken me years to be able to take steps towards gaining my own independence. Now that I am finally well enough to attempt college, after a fucking decade, I am resented for no longer providing emotional and/or financial support for someone else.

TL;DR: living with disability and chronic conditions sucks, in reality.