#IT WASN'T STOLEN. I'M RIGHT HERE. OH MY GOD

[quesadillayuri]

your sister is a memory you can't quite grasp & your brother is a time you can't ever go back to

bagi's childhood diary, @BagiEnglish (via twitter) / bagi's boarding pass, qsmp wiki / cellbit's 10/15/23 stream, transcribed by @apollos-boyfriend (via tumblr) / @jupiter-suggestion / about you, the 1975 / jewish literacy, rabbi joseph telushkin / 'childhood? what childhood?', @starssena / 'i spent fifteen years looking, i spent fifteen years surviving,' @beckyblah / a brother named gethsemane, natalie diaz / little miss sunshine (2006), valerie faris & jonathan dayton / the elektra complex, joan tierney / @petrichara / bagi's book to cellbit, @BagiEnglish (via twitter) / 'getting somewhere,' @ctommy i

[slu7formen]

MDNI. luke x fem!reader

you and Luke end up stuck in the same motel room on a mission, but as he tries his best to stay as far away from you as possible, he ends up with you sitting on his lap and moaning his name.

warnings: enemies to lovers (?, reader’s godly parent is not mentioned, CLASSIC share-the-same-bed prompt, cussing, clothed s3x, pet names, teasing, kinda virgin!luke, dom!luke for a sec, luke sees reader in her underwear

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

₊˚⊹♡

The groan of the rusty –stolen– car door echoed in the woods like a death knell. You slammed it shut with a wince, the throbbing ache in your shoulder protesting the movement as you placed your bag on it. The vehicle now lay crumpled against a giant redwood, a testament to the gigantic beast you'd just barely managed to outrun before Percy took take of it with Anaklusmos.

And him, ever the optimist, managed a weak attempt at sarcasm. "Well, that went great, don´t you think?" he muttered to you, his voice laced with exhaustion. A fresh cut adorned his cheek, a reminder of his near-death experience, from their recent encounter.

Luke, face dirty and torso sweaty, slammed the trunk shut with a finality that mirrored the exhaustion etched on his face. Dirt smudged his usually perfect features, and sweat plastered his black hair to his forehead, a sight that would have sent shivers down the spine of any other girl at camp. On you, however, it just fueled the simmering fire inside you that made you want to punch his face.

He slung his worn backpack over one shoulder, the weight of responsibility and fatigue pulling him down.

"Remind me not to let you drive again. Ever." he said to you, his voice laced with a mocking lilt.

You rolled your eyes, the familiar irritation sparking within you. "Oh, give me a break" you spat back, hands on your hips. "I'm the only one with a license here, genius."

"Is your license useful when it comes to a stolen car, genius?" he replied, voice lowering to match his mockery and a punchable smirk playing on his lips. He really knew how to push your buttons, even when you were both staring down the barrel of another night on the run, another night without a decent meal or a good night's sleep.

"At least I can drive" you countered, ignoring the prickle of annoyance that ran down your spine. "Besides, who else would have gotten us this far? You?" You gestured towards the flickering neon sign of a ramshackle motel in the distance, a beacon of hope in the gathering darkness.

"Enough" Annabeth said, her voice firm despite the tiredness in her tone. "You two can fight later, but right now, we need to find somewhere to stay. I am not spending another night sleeping on a tree"

With a determined stomp, she marched towards the side of the road. You and Luke both took a step forward at the same time, then stopped, locked in a silent battle of who would yield. You mockingly straightened your arm towards Annabeth's path. "Ladies first" you said to him.

He squinted his eyes playfully as he walked past you. “Very mature” he muttered.

The flickering neon sign cut through the twilight like a neon lifeline as you walked. ‘The Sun n' Sands Motel’ proclaimed in faded glory, the letters crooked and the sun sporting a single, sad-looking ray. It wasn't the exactly luxury, but after days on the run, a crumpled car, and a near-death encounter with a creature straight out of your worst nightmares, this place looked like a five-star resort.

"Finally" you sighed, relief washing over you in waves. You could practically smell the promise of clean sheets and a bed that didn't groan ominously with every movement. And a shower. Gods, you craved that.

Pushing open the glass door, you were greeted with a musty scent that hung in the air like a forgotten memory. The lobby was small and poorly decorated, the faded floral wallpaper clashing horrendously with the worn brown carpeting. Behind a chipped counter sat a woman whose age defied easy categorization. Her hair, the color of tarnished silver, was pulled back in a tight bun, emphasizing the deep lines etched around her eyes. She sat engrossed in a beauty magazine, oblivious to the four weary demigods who had just entered.

With a sigh that condensed the exhaustion of your entire journey, you approached the counter. Slamming a wad of crumpled bills onto the counter, you declared, "Rooms for four, please."

Percy shuffled behind you, his eyes flitting around the room with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Annabeth scanned the lobby for any signs of potential danger, her hand instinctively resting on the hilt of her dagger.

The woman finally looked up, her gaze lingering on you for too long before flickering to the rest of your group. A slow smile played on her lips, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "One room, two beds?" she drawled, her voice thick with a southern twang that seemed to grate on your already frayed nerves.

"Two rooms" you corrected, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. Sharing a room with Luke Castellan, a roof, again, even in this desolate outpost, was an idea so abhorrent you couldn't entertain it for a second.

As if sensing your objection, the woman tapped away at a dusty computer terminal. A smirk played on her lips. "Couple's getaway, huh?" she asked, her eyes darting from Luke, back to you.

Percy and Annabeth exchanged a surprised and disgusted look. "What?" you demanded, your irritation bubbling over.

But before you could react, you felt Luke´s heavy arm slunging casually around your shoulder, his voice dripping with mock sincerity. "Looks like we're gonna have to get a little bit cozy, don't you think, baby?" he drawled playfully.

You gritted your teeth, biting down on the inside of your cheek to keep from exploding. You knew perfectly well he was just trying to get under your skin, and the worst part was, it was working. The thought of sharing a room with him was bad enough, but the idea of him calling you "baby" sent shivers down your spine – not of pleasure, but of pure, unadulterated annoyance.

Faking a sickly sweet smile, you leaned in and delivered a sharp elbow jab directly to his stomach. He doubled over with a groan, clutching his center for a moment. "Call me 'baby' again," you hissed, your voice low and dangerous, "and I'll punch way lower than that."

“Got it, muscles” he wheezed.

The receptionist, clearly enjoying the spectacle, leaned back in her chair and tapped away at the computer again. "Right now, we have one room with a double bed, and another one with two single beds" she explained.

You glanced back at Annabeth, a silent question hanging in the air. She nodded in understanding. Two single beds might not be ideal, but it was infinitely preferable to sharing a room with Luke.

"We'll take them" you declared.

The woman expertly counted the money, her lips pursed in concentration. "Rooms thirteen and fifteen." she announced, handing you two keys. "No smoking inside, and do not break anything, or you'll be charged double" the lady continued, her voice laced with a warning that was clearly aimed at you and Luke.

As you all four walked towards the stairs, you tossed the key to room fifteen at Luke. He snatched it reflexively in the air, a hint of confussion in his face. “Boys, you´ll share a room” you declare.

Luke scoffed behind your back. "What are we? Eleven?" he asked.

"It was a nightmare to drive a car with you in it" you retorted, "can't imagine what it would be like to share a room."

Later, after some questionable inspectioning around the room and re-organizing your bag for when you leave tomorrow morning, you finally had a little time to yourself.

The cool water splashed against your face, washing away the grime and exhaustion of the day. You glanced over at Annabeth, who was meticulously placing her most important things on the floor to clean and organize her bag; her dagger, her cap, a rope, a squished water bottle, and a few maps. Despite the cramped confines of the motel room, a sense of peace settled over you. Even with Luke's irritating presence hanging over your head, it was a welcome change from the constant fear and adrenaline that had fueled your journey.

A sharp rapping on the door snapped you out of your reverie. "Coming!" Annabeth called out. She opened the door just a crack as you peeked your head out of the tiny bathroom door. You were greeted by the sight of a very smug-looking Percy. His cheeks were puffed out, and he was clutching a brown paper bag that seemed precariously close to bursting.

"Uh, hey" he mumbled, his voice muffled through a mouthful of something chocolatey. "I raided the vending machine downstairs” he simply explained.

Annabeth turned towards you. “Dinner?” she asked.

The offer of a snack, however meager, was enough to send your stomach grumbling in protest. The idea of a proper meal sounded heavinly, the food from camp, the meat, the mashed potatoes. Gods, you really wanted to be back. But right now, even the greasiest bag of chips could be enough for you.

Percy shoved his way past Annabeth and into the room. He disgorged his loot onto the small bedside table that sat between your beds. Annabeth, with her usual organizational skills, started to create a semblance of order from the chaotic pile of snacks.

Across the room, you noticed Luke still leaning against the doorway. He had shed his usual polished exterior for a pair of worn sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, a sight that momentarily threw you off balance. He took you in with a lazy glance, his eyes lingering on your tired face and messy hair. "Looking good" he called, a smirk playing on his lips.

One of your eyes twitched in irritation. Grabbing the wet towel you'd been using, you flung it at him with a growl. He managed to snag it out of the air just before it connected with his face.

"Hilarious" he remarked.

Annabeth jumped in before the playful hostility could escalate further. "How about a movie?" she suggested, her voice laced with a hint of forced cheer.

The idea wasn't exactly appealing, but the prospect of some semblance of downtime outweighed the absurdity of watching television in a dingy motel room. You and Luke exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between you. You didn't know how much peace you could get in the middle of a mission, or for how long, but the idea of just sitting down and eating calmly while watching a movie was undeniably tempting. Even with the dubious snacks and the cramped quarters, it felt like a small oasis in the storm of your current situation.

The movie selection on the ancient TV was limited, to say the least. After a series of disgruntled grumbles and channel surfing, they settled on a cheesy romance movie with a plot that could have been predicted by a hyperactive squirrel. The acting was atrocious, the dialogue predictable, and the special effects looked like they were created by a bored teenager with basic editing software. Yet, despite the movie's inherent ridiculousness, a strange sense of camaraderie filled the room. Laughter, albeit tinged with exhaustion, erupted at the predictable plot twists and overly dramatic dialogue.

As the minutes ticked by, Percy and Annabeth succumbed to the fatigue of the day. Annabeth curled up by your side on her bed, but her eyelids eventually fluttered shut and her head lolled back against your shoulder. Percy managed to stay up for a little longer with Luke, but his snorting could easily be heard just ten minutes after.

Silence stretched between you and Luke, punctuated only by the rhythmic snores of Percy and the occasional sigh from Annabeth in her sleep. You glanced over at your friend, her head resting peacefully against your shoulder. Despite the discomfort of the shared bed and the dubious snacks, a sliver of normalcy felt oddly comforting.

Across from you, Luke mirrored your posture, leaning back against the headboard with his arms crossed. His gaze was fixed on the flickering television screen, but you knew his attention wasn't on the atrocious movie. He was lost in thought, a furrow etched between his brows.

There was tension in the air, a constant undercurrent simmering between you two. You didn't like each other, that much was certain. He was arrogant, self-serving, and his loyalty always seemed to have a price tag attached. Yet, a grudging respect had grown between you over the years. You both understood the weight of your responsibilities, the burden of protecting those younger, more innocent.

He cleared his throat, the sound sharp in the quiet room. "Hey, Per—" he began, his voice a low murmur.

“Hey” you called. Luke´s head snapped towards your direction. "He's been out for more than half an hour" you interjected softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don't wake him up."

Luke's head tilted to the side. Confusion flickered across his brown eyes before settling on a scowl. "What?" he hissed, barely louder than a whisper.

"Think about it" you countered, your voice a low murmur that wouldn't disturb the sleeping teens. "Percy's been snoring like a miniature thunderstorm for at least ten minutes. Annabeth wouldn't wake up even if a centaur stepped next to her right now. Waking them up would just cause a monster of a different kind."

You knew Luke understood. You weren't just talking about Percy's physical exhaustion. You were both keenly aware of the burden these young demigods carried. They craved normalcy as much as anyone, and these stolen moments of peaceful sleep, however fleeting, were a precious commodity. Watching them, so vulnerable and carefree in their slumber, filled you with a fierce protectiveness. The last thing you wanted to do was disrupt that.

Luke didn't reply, but his gaze mirrored your sentiments. A flicker of something akin to respect softened the harsh lines of his face. You weren't friends, not by any stretch of the imagination. He mean. Yet, you shared a common enemy and a common purpose – to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

The silence stretched for a momento before he cleared his throat again, the sound sharp in the cramped room. "So," he drawled, his voice laced with a hint of resignation, "what do we do then?"

You sighed, frustration creeping into your voice. "Guess we're stuck sharing a room after all" you muttered, throwing your hands up in defeat. The idea was far from appealing.

Luke's face contorted in horror. He let out a theatrical whine that would rival any crying toddler. "Oh come on" he whined, stretching the word into several syllables. "Sharing a room with you? Talk about cruelty and punishment."

“Oh, just shut up” you whispered-yelled at him. “Trust me, I don´t wanna sleep next to you either. I´ll build up a wall of pillows before you can even start snoring”

There was a certain absurdity to the situation, being forced to share a room with your least favorite person. But beneath the surface, you both acknowledged the unspoken truth – the safety and well-being of Percy and Annabeth took precedence over any personal discomfort.

You both rose from your beds, a tense air crackling around you. Picking up your backpack, you hoisted it over your shoulder with a sigh. "Alright" you declared, marching towards the door. "Let's get this over with."

Luke followed, his movements mirroring yours. The walk down the cramped hallway was filled with an tension. Neither of you dared to speak. Reaching his door, Luke fumbled for the key, his irritation evident in his clumsiness. Finally, with a click, the door swung open, revealing a room identical to yours – basic, cramped, and thoroughly unappealing.

Stepping inside, you couldn't help but let out a groan. A single, double bed dominated the room, leaving absolutely no room for separate sleeping arrangements. God, why did Percy have to fall asleep? Why didn´t you and Annabeth pick this room earlier? Everything was going the wrong way for you. You exchanged a look with Luke, the message clear in your burning eyes.

"Snort or drool" Luke began, his voice a low growl as he pointed a finger at you "and I swear I'll throw you out the window"

"Hm, how charming" you replied sarcastically, stepping past him and into the room.

The bed loomed before you, a battleground for an uncomfortable night's sleep. With a sigh, you dropped your backpack onto the nearest chair. Luke began building a formidable fortress of pillows in the center of the bed. You rolled your eyes at the sight. This was so ridiculous.

A glance at your watch confirmed your suspicions. It was not too late to hop on quick shower. Percy and Luke walked down to the vending machine so quickly earlier that you didn´t even have time to wash yourself before they came to your room with the so called dinner. Your clothes clung to you uncomfortably, the grime of the day begging to be washed away. You looked for a clean shirt you were sure you packed before leaving camp days ago. The possibilites of a shower were low in missions like these, but you never knew.

Leaving your backpack open on the chair, you made your way to the bathroom door, silently pushing it open. Luke watched your movements for a fleeting moment, but quickly went back to his pillow fortification once your figure disappeared inside the small bathroom. He didn't think much of it at first. You were just getting ready for the night, whatever your methods.

Inside the bathroom, you began stripping off your clothes, the cool air a welcome sensation against your heated skin. In your state of exhaustion, you neglected to fully close the bathroom door. A foolish mistake, perhaps, but in your defense, the room was tiny and the it wouldn't be winning any awards for spaciousness. Right now, all you craved was a chance to scrub away the road dust and find a clean shirt for the —uncomfortable— night ahead.

A few seconds later, a muffled curse broke the silence on Luke´s side. Luke, realizing he'd left his toothbrush in the bathroom, stopped himself from the pillows task and approached the bathroom door. He was expecting it to be shut. A polite knock, a request for his forgotten toothbrush – that was the plan. But as he drew closer, his steps faltered. The door wasn't shut.

“Seriously!?”

There you stood, completely devoid of clothes except for your underwear, taking off your camp´s necklace and your earrings. The warm glow from the bathroom light accentuated the smooth lines of your shoulders and the curve of your back. Time seemed to freeze for a beat. Luke's breath hitched in his throat.

You whirled around, startled. A small laugh escaped your lips as you saw Luke's flustered expression. His cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, and his brown eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape route.

"Didn't think you'd be so shy, Luke" It was a playful jab, a way to lighten the sudden tension that had filled the small space.

Luke sputtered, his voice barely even a regular tone. "Shy? I'm not-, I mean-…” he kept cutting himself off. “This-, don´t you know what privacy is!?"

His indignation was adorable, you couldn't help but think to yourself. You'd never seen him so flustered, so utterly out of sorts. A mischievous glint sparked in your eyes.

"Oh, come on" you countered, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Don't tell me you've never seen a girl in this state before."

The question just didn´t have an asnwer. Luke's mouth clamped shut. His eyes widened for a moment, then darted back down to the floor, avoiding your gaze. There was a flicker of something in his eyes – a memory, perhaps, or a realization – but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

The silence stretched, thick and awkward. You realized you had hit a nerve, a part of Luke you hadn't expected to expose, not in front of you. A pang of unexpected curiosity pricked at your insides. Just what kind of experiences had this arrogant, self-assured perfect golden boy had?

You opened your mouth to speak, to maybe apologize for your teasing, but Luke beat you to it.

"Just shower and get dressed, okay?" he mumbled, his voice tight with suppressed frustration. "I want to sleep."

He didn't wait for a reply, simply turning on his heel and retreating back to his pillow fort. You watched him go, a smile playing on your lips. The encounter had been unexpected, to say the least, but it had definitely shaken things up.

A low chuckle escaped your lips. "You'll wait for me?" you called out playfully, knowing full well he wouldn't answer.

"Shut up!" came his muffled reply from behind the pillows.

The silence in the cramped room was thick enough to spread. You emerged from the bathroom, a clean shirt clinging to your damp form and a towel wrapped around your head like a makeshift turban. You caught sight of Luke burrowed deep beneath the barricade of pillows, a picture of forced nonchalance. His eyes were resolutely fixed on the ceiling, but you could practically feel the heat radiating off him.

A mischievous glint flickered in your eyes. He might have gotten away with a verbal escape route earlier, but you weren't done yet. "Well, aren't you going to say something?" you queried, amusement dancing in your voice. "Speechless, Castellan? That's a first."

Luke remained stubbornly silent, his jaw clenched tight. He could feel the blush creeping back up his neck, a burning reminder of his moment of weakness. How was he supposed to act normal after seeing...well, after seeing more of you than he ever bargained for? The image of your smooth skin and the graceful curve of your back was burned into his memory, a stark contrast to the sarcastic warrior he knew.

You flopped down onto the bed, the makeshift wall of pillows separating you from Luke. You turned off the bedside lamp in silence before removing the towel off your hair, gently brushing it. The silence stretched on, broken only by the soft rustle of your brush. Just as you thought Luke had successfully retreated into a silent sulk, his voice broke through the tension.

"Look" he muttered, whispering "it was an accident. Just forget it, alright?"

You couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. "Oh, come on" you teased, leaning back against the pillows. "Didn’t expect that seeing a little skin was such a big deal for someone like you."

Luke shot you a glare, but it lacked its usual bite. Someone like him? What the hell did you mean by that? Maybe it was the unexpectedness of it all, or maybe it was the way the dim light had cast your figure in a different light, one he hadn't noticed before. Whatever it was, it had thrown him completely off balance.

A sudden, and quite unwelcome, thought struck him. Just what kind of experiences had you had? He knew you weren't naive, or dumb. But the thought of you with someone else… the possessiveness that flared up within him surprised him. It wasn't jealousy, not exactly, but a strange sense he couldn't quite explain.

He pushed the thought aside, focusing on calming his racing heart. He needed sleep, not a philosophical debate about his feelings for his least favorite demigod. Just as he was about to drift off, your voice sliced through the silence, sharper than any blade.

"Are you a virgin, Luke?"

The question hung in the air, a verbal bombshell that shattered the fragile peace. Luke's eyes snapped open, wide with disbelief. Gods, you were bold. He stared at you in the dark, lifiting his head up just enough to peak from the pillows in between your boides, his mind struggling to process your words.

"What?" he finally managed, his voice husky with disbelief.

A faint blush crept up your cheeks, a stark contrast to the playful glint in your eyes. "You heard me" you countered.

Luke felt a surge of annoyance mixed with a strange vulnerability. He wasn't used to being caught off guard, especially not by you. He opened his mouth to retort, to deflect the question with his usual sarcastic wit, but the words wouldn't come.

His gaze drifted towards the wall, a silent battle raging within him. Should he answer your question honestly? The thought of revealing such a personal detail to you, his nemesis, was unappealing. But then again, a small part of him, the part he kept hidden away, craved a different kind of connection with you.

He took a deep breath, the decision made. "Does it matter?" he finally replied, his voice a low murmur.

You turned on your side, facing him across the wall of pillows, getting rid of some of them, dropping them to the carpeted floor. The moonlight filtering through the window cast an ethereal glow on your face, making your eyes seem to sparkle with mischief.

"Maybe it does" you said, your voice soft and laced with an undercurrent of something else - intrigue? Even in the darkness, you could see the way your words affected him, the way his dark eyes seemed to flicker with a mixture of emotions.

Luke opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get a word out, you cut him off with a laugh that seemed tinged with nervousness.

"Forget it" you said, shaking your head slightly. "Just... hormonal thoughts." The explanation felt flimsy, even to your own ears. This wasn't just idle curiosity; it was something deeper, something you couldn't quite explain yet.

Luke remained silent for a moment, your sudden change in direction throwing him off. Part of him was relieved you weren't pressing the issue, but another part, the part he usually kept suppressed, felt a flicker of disappointment. He wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't found your boldness, your honesty, even your sudden vulnerability, strangely appealing.

"Hormonal thoughts, huh?" he finally echoed, his voice husky. "Does that mean you wanna have sex with me?" He dared to voice the possibility that you might be attracted to him. He must´ve been out of his mind.

The thought was simply impossible. Yet, the way your eyes sparkled in the moonlight, the way you'd turned towards him, discarding some of the pillows as if to bridge the gap…

"No!" you blurted out, as if reading his mind. The defensiveness in your voice surprised you both. "It's not that at all. It's just... I don't know." Frustration laced your words. This whole conversation was turning into a confusing mess. “Just… how far have you reached with a girl?”

Luke stared at you, dumbfounded. This night had taken a turn he hadn't anticipated. Why were you even talking about this? Why were you asking these questions? Why, despite the initial irritation, was he finding himself answering?

Heaving a sigh, he sat up against the headboard, exhaustion finally catching up to him. "Not too far, actually" he mumbled, the words laced with a weariness that surprised him. The words felt strange coming out of his mouth, a confession he wouldn't have made to anyone else. He hadn't meant to dwell on past experiences, especially not with you. He hadn't realized how much he'd carried on his shoulders, the weight of overlooked desires he never truly got to satisfy. Suddenly, the frustration in your voice clicked into place. Was that why you'd asked? Was it because you felt the same way, burdened by an unfulfilled yearning?

But as you shifted in your bed, suddenly sitting up on your knees, he couldn't help but notice the way your silhouette was illuminated by the moonlight. And then he saw it — the lack of shorts beneath your t-shirt, a detail he'd managed to conveniently overlook in the heat of the moment, which didn´t make sense at all.

"What are you—?" he began, the question dying on his lips as you moved closer. You began to dismantle the remaining wall of pillows, clearing the way between you.

His heart hammered against his ribs as you sat down on his lap, one leg on each side of him. You were close, closer than you'd ever been before. A mix of confusion and arousal that left him speechless. You stared at him, your eyes reflecting the soft moonlight, as your hands reached for his.

"Have you ever done this?" you asked, your voice gentle, devoid of the usual sarcasm you wielded like a weapon. You weren't mocking him, weren't trying to pry. This was a genuine question, a moment of surprising intimacy that neither of you could have predicted.

Luke stared at you, his mind reeling. His hands, usually quick and confident, felt heavy and clumsy under your touch. You guided them to hold steady of your thighs, even though you were not moving, not yet.

Luke had never been more confused in his life. His mind raced, searching for a coherent response, an appropriate action. Was this a trap? A test? 'What the hell?' his mind raced.

But as he looked into your eyes, searching for an explanation, all he saw was a reflection of his own thunderstorm. You were just as confused as he was, caught in a moment of unexpected intimacy.

Neither of you knew what to say, what to do next. This wasn't part of the plan. You were supposed to be enemies, rivals forced to share a cramped motel room.

You know, the classic shit.

But this wasn’t it. This was something strange that even though he hated to admit it, he didn’t want it to end yet.

So he trailed his hands higher. Higher, higher, higher. Then placed his hands on your hips. He was breathless, and a sudden feeling of dumbness filled his insides as he stared at you, reading you like a book; you were waiting. And he had no idea what to do.

But you surely did. A slight sway of your hips was all he needed to breath out the amount of air his chest was holding. Then another one, and another; each movement pressed deliciously against his cock, already hardened.

He let out a deep groan, teeth tightening and head falling back slightly.

You placed your hands around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you, almost chest to chest. Your hips kept rolling over him. If this felt good to him, it must’ve feel like heaven to you, due to your lack of lower clothes.

“You’re big, Luke” you whispered, a tiny smirk smudged along your lips. There it was. You again.

He thanked the darkness for hiding his red cheeks, but his state was not going to make him vulnerable again. He gripped your hips tighter, pulling at the top of your ass towards him over and over. “Fuck, just shut up for five minutes” he breathed out.

You didn’t answer. Your mouth hang open over his own. Your lips were dangerously close to touching, to kissing. But it was not gonna happen. As your hips rolled at a fast pace his breath tangled with yours, his moans, his groans, everything was swallowed by your own sounds.

He should feel embarrassed of behaving like this, not only because it is you but because he’s supposed to be in the middle of a mission. But come on, he knew this would happen soon or later.

All those years in which he secretly saved his feeling for himself. He had to hide the fact that whenever he touched your skin, whenever he felt your warm body against his hands, even the slightest and most teasing touch, a bolt of lighting went from the tip of his toes to his head.

He felt drunk in you in just a second and what, because he accidentally saw you almost naked?

He had to thank the gods for his luck.

“Oh, Luke” you moaned, head tilting back as you squeezed your eyes shut. Oh, he liked that.

He audibly chucked, laughed at you. “Who would’ve known?” he asked. “Who would’ve known you’d be so dirty, baby?”

Your eyes sparkled with fire, piercing Luke’s insides as the scar on his face twitched like every time he smiled. Despite the look on your face, your hips kept rolling over his; you couldn’t stop. It felt too good, too hot, too wet, even under Luke’s sweatpants.

“Don’t call me baby” you managed to blurt out, but the sound coming out of your mouth just made the whole sentence something pornographic. Luke didn’t complain.

You removed your hands from his neck. He was convinced you were gonna climb off of him and he would have to apologize repeatedly so he could finally get to cum with you on top of him; but instead, your hands travelled down his torso, and hid under his white shirt, pressing your palms onto his abs, pushing your own body harder against his.

“What should I call you then?” he whispered against your mouth, hands gripping impossibly tighter, finally gripping to your asscheeks. He had to hide a groan from the very back of his throat. “Bunny? ‘Cause you can’t deny you wanna hop on my cock?”

Now that was new.

If you were shocked, your face wouldn’t show it, but your body surely did. Your movements became sloppy, tired, and your chest moved up and down faster than ever. Luke rolled his own hips into yours, moaning uncontrollably at the feeling of his cock being constantly rubbed under your clothes pussy, and at the sight of the small wet patch you had on your underwear.

“Luke. I wanna cum” you moaned out. He liked that you didn’t warn you were going to, but you wanted to. As if you were asking for his permission.

“You won’t get off me until I cum, get it?”

He was a possessed man all of a sudden. His groans, growing deeper with every movement, his hands holding onto you for dear life and his breath twirling with yours as if you were the oxygen he needed to stay alive.

The tight feeling on your belly snapped as fast as you started to feel it. Yet you were obedient, so you kept moving.

The overstimulation was too much already, but when was gonna be the last time you would get to almost fuck Luke Castellan? Probably this time, you wouldn’t want to screw it up.

In fact, you wanted to do so much more. To suck his dick, to gag on it. To let him play with your body as much as he pleased and craved for. To let him take you anywhere and anytime he liked.

It didn’t take Luke long enough to hit his climax too, thankfully. His hips twitched against yours repeatedly as he placed his forehead on your chest. His breath was heavy as if he had run a million miles, his forehead sweaty.

Your hand reached his curls, smoothly running them down the back of his neck as if you were comforting him from the worst experience he had ever had. Little did you know this was his best so far.

“Do we-,” he cut himself off to swallow thickly. He didn’t realize how dry his throat was until he tried to speak. “Do we get to share rooms again?”

“What do you think?”

part two <3

[muddyorbsblr]

curiosities

See my full list of works here!

Requested by: Anonymous | view request here

Summary: Loki's interrogation tactics left you curious about his powers, and he's more than happy to give you a little demonstration while you worked on your reports.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warning/s: 18+ | slightly smutty (think limes not lemons…but still, minors & pearl clutchers leave right now); thigh riding; hand necklaces; naughty use of Loki's powers; semi-public [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established relationship

Dick-tionary: nothing explicit but proceed with caution starting from "Quiet, darling"

"Darling? Are you alright?"

The sound of Loki's voice broke through the hazy thoughts you'd found yourself lost in for the last few minutes, making you realize that your fingers hovered over the keyboard for so long that your computer screen went on Standby. And the text fields of your interrogation report remained blank.

"Sorry what?" you mumbled, realizing too late that the reason you lost yourself in your thoughts in the first place was from recalling the events of the interrogation from earlier. Specifically the way your lover's voice and overall aura darkened as he threatened a variant of reminding them specifically what kind of person he was on the once Sacred Timeline.

Of showing them a sampling of the terrible awful things that he could do, especially now given that the magic barrier had been switched off. You had only the slightest whispers of an idea, given what you'd read from his file and the files of multiple variants of him.

Shadow casting. Duplication casting. An entire pocket dimension filled with who knows what. And then there was the telepathy. The telekinesis. The illusion projection. The mind control.

Which powers did your Loki have, you wondered. And which ones would he utilize in the name of those terrible, awful things?

And why did the prospect of him using those powers on you stir something in you that currently had you struggling not to squirm in your seat from the arousal?

"You look as if you keep drifting off, darling. Are you feeling alright?" Loki reached out to cup the side of your face in his large hand, the contact hitting him with a barrage of the thoughts that had been swimming through your mind since the interrogation. "Oh…" he rasped, moving his hand to weave his fingers through your hair. "I see now what has stolen your ability to focus on this…simple tedious task."

"Hmmm?" you replied absently, soft whimpers escaping you once the god leaned in and started pressing kisses from your temple down to your neck. This wasn't helping your wandering thoughts in the slightest. And then he wrapped his arm around you, lifting you up from your seat and maneuvering you to straddle his thigh. "Loki," you whined, a sharp gasp escaping you when he nipped at the spot between your neck and shoulder.

"Quiet, darling," he told you in a low teasing tone. "You wish to know which powers I possess? I'm more than happy to give you a little demonstration." He brought a hand up to your neck, squeezing ever so slightly at the sides. "I've cast an illusion wherein our colleagues are none the wiser to our…current predicament. All they see is us, sitting side by side, your lover patiently waiting for you to finish your report."

He flexed the muscles of his thigh, the motion causing a delicious friction between your legs. You let out the start of a moan before his fingers tightened around your neck for a fraction of a second.

"Much as I would adore to hear those beautifully filthy sounds from you, my love, I'm going to have to implore you stay silent. See, if you make any noise that could draw people's attention to us, the illusion breaks. And we'll be disciplined." With a wave of his hand, your jacket disappeared and reappeared neatly folded on the table in front of you. He kissed at your now exposed arm. "Can you breathe alright?"

Butterflies fluttered violently at your stomach at the question, choosing to nod instead of voicing your answer.

"Good girl." A rush of arousal pooled between your thighs at his words. You bit your lip to prevent yourself from making a sound when he nipped at your skin. Another wave of his hand and you suddenly felt cool wispy tendrils grasping at your waist and moving you to grind on your boyfriend's thigh. "I must admit, dear Y/N, I rather enjoy finding these more…pleasurable uses of my abilities. Especially with how deliciously responsive your exquisite form is under my touch." He kissed his way up to your ear. "I look forward to using them all with you. Perhaps later tonight, in our home."

The tendrils held you tighter, pressing you down harder against his thigh before proceeding to undulate your hips. The increased friction, along with how he was kissing and nipping away at your earlobe, had you letting out a strangled moan before his hold tightened on you again, your head swimming from the pressure.

"What did I say about breaking the illusion, my darling?" he growled, the gravel in his voice making you even wetter. "Do you wish to give every soul in this library a show of how desperate and wanton I can make you? Is that it?" He flexed his thigh again the same time that the wispy tendons ground your hips harder against it, a barely muted whimper coming out of you before you bit down hard on your lip and shook your head. "Then stay quiet, sweet mortal. Lest you wish for me to find something within my pocket dimension to stuff that beautiful mouth of yours with."

You did what you could to look down at what was moving you, your mouth forming in an 'O' when you saw that it was his shadows. You let out the tiniest whimper of his name, the pressure on the side of your neck lessening when he stroked at your skin with his thumb.

"I'm going to lift this illusion and then you shall finish your report so that I may bring you home and we can move on to a more…thorough demonstration," he rasped, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "With a little help from a few friends of mine." A flash of Loki's green magic from the corner of your eye caught your attention, his shadows grinding you down even harder on his thigh once you caught sight of two duplicates of him waving and smirking at you. One was wearing that ruffled tuxedo that on paper looked unremarkable on the average man.

But Loki was no average man. He was a god. Your god.

And the other duplicate was dressed exactly as such. With the gold horns and the black and green leather, his usual obsidian curls straightened and slicked back with a menacing look in his eyes as his gaze roamed your body.

The feel of his thigh flexing against your slit had you bringing back your attention to the Loki that held you in place. Your Loki. The real one.

"But first, I want you to soak my thigh."

A/N: Anon, whoever you are, I hope you're having the absolute best day because getting this in my asks had me staring at the ceiling and immediately typing down a lil note in my writing schedule to make this 🫠 Hopefully I did your thot justice

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

[mummydommythe3rd]

BLACKMAILED PART 2/3

"Here he is!" My mom sang happily.

I watched on my phone screen as she turned a corner. There you were, in all your pathetic glory, face down and humping away on your teddybear...the closest you'd ever come to sex.

"Wow, I wasn't expecting that!" I lied. The app on this burner phone changed my voice enough to ensure you and her wouldn't recognize it. I, of course had orchestrated all of this as your anonymous domme. It was amazing what a felony could do.

"Yes, the baby-loser loves his tummy time, doesn't he?" She said. A soft moan of humiliation was all you could respond with as you pumped your chastity cage into the padding of your diaper.

"I honestly thought we were the first he'd ever told his desires to! I didn't know that this all went so far back!" Mom exclaimed, keeping the camera on him as he humped.

"Oh my, yes! Even back in middle school he was sucking his thumb in class and telling me he didn't ever want to grow up. I suppose at some point he fetishized it and it took over his whole personality."

"Really?"

"Yes!" I laughed. "He had either bought or stolen some girly diapers that he kept at school, and he wouldn't stop asking me if I could maybe change him some time, which I never did. I'm surprised you are going through with all of this!"

Your mom just laughed. You humped a little harder. You'd been living in a nursery 24/7 for the last month, dreading this call. If your 'internet domme' found any reason at all to doubt your enthusiasm, they'd release your confession, and you'd go straight to prison.

"Oh at first I thought he was joking! But then he started crying and pleading! When we tried to throw out his diapers he started wetting and even messing in his bed!"

"Oh my God!" I said with mock shock. Of course, as your step-sister, I had been there for all of it.

"Yes! It took some time, but eventually I gave in, just a bit. I really owe his acceptance to his step-sister. She seemed to accept it right away! As if she knew he wanted it all along! His dad though...well, he just never goes into the nursery."

I laughed. "She sounds very insightful."

"She is! She's never gotten along with him, but she began spending a lot more time with him. She even talked me into going along with his desires on a trial basis. She didn't stop teasing him though, of course."

"Of course. I mean, how could you not make a little fun of him. Was the 'WIMP' mat his idea?"

"Oh no, that one was mine. It wasn't until a couple weeks into his babying, when I was starting to accept it, that my daughter told me how full and leaky his clitty cage got during a diaper change when she called him a pathetic little pamper pooper. The next time I changed him I called him a pathetic little pansy and his cage bounced up and down like a little puppy!"

"That's hilarious! I'm so glad he's finally living the life he's always wanted!"

"Me too! And if I'm being honest, it's kind of fun to make fun of him. He get's so blushy and flustered. He gets as red as a tomato, and can't even talk!"

"Probably because he's too focused on how nice the words make his little dinky feel!"

We both laughed. I heard a barely audible groan.

Mom turned away from the phone and I heard her voice at a lower volume. "Aww, baby's legs are sore? Only a few minutes more to tummy-time! Then you can get a change if you're poopy!"

When she returned I continued. "You know, I can't help but notice that you've been using male pronouns for him. He doesn't look even a little masculine at all though!"

I knew you could hear me. Your mom always used the speaker-phone setting on calls.

"That surprises me too! He's not much of a man, or a boy...even a baby boy, really. He's even growing his own little pair of breasts! He insisted on HRT, and now sucks down his estrogen and testosterone blockers with his nightly bottle!"

"Well I'm sure he'll figure it all out and ask you for the proper pronouns soon."

I head you muffle a little squeak of fear and shock. The threat had been made. Soon you'd have to ask for a new name and completely erase your old male self.

I continued, dropping my voice into a whisper, as if I were nervous about the question. "Has he- I mean...He once told me that- well, he had a VERY strong desire to-"

"What? After all this, what could be so shameful?" she giggled.

"Well, let's just say he could never stop talking about his desire to...well...please a man...with his mouth."

"Oh!" your mother gasped. "I thought his diapers were the only sexual experience he wanted!"

"Far from it! I'm sorry I have to tell you, but he once accidentally handed me his unlocked phone and I saw that he had dozens of tabs open about cum, eating cum, blow jobs, deep throating...he was quite obsessed. Then it all spilled out. He confessed that he didn't think he could be truly happy without a tummy regularly full of another man's seed."

"Well I don't know how I'd ever go about arranging that!" your mom exclaimed. I could hear you moaning and squeaking into your pacifier. You were scared, angry, and ashamed, but all you could do was suck your paci and hump your stupid bear while the adults talked.

"Yeah, it's a bit unrealistic." I admitted. Maybe your step-daughter knows a way to get him some of his favorite food?"

"Well I can talk with her about it, but I wouldn't hold out hope!"

"Don't worry I'm sure she'll be able to think of something." I said.

A timer beeped, signalling the end of 'tummy time'.

"Well, potty-pants needs a change. Please call again anytime!" She said.

"Will do! Tell him I said hi and I'll be checking in on him for the next ten years!" Ten years. The statute of limitations for embezzlement. Ten years of being our pathetic little chaste cock-sucking pansy.

[endless-ineffabilities]

tongue in cheek - four

Tom Bennett x f!reader

masterlist ▪︎ part one - part two - part three

The reader and Tom continue to dance around other, flirting and sharing stolen moments. But where is it all headed?

You don't get to finish the words.

The door opens, and Lois barges into the room. Balancing two saucers of tea in her hands.

"Oh!" She exclaims, sheepishly, noting how close her brother is to you. "Sorry, I just - "

"Aw, Lois, come on." Tom nearly whines at his sister.

"Sorry," she says firmly, not having any of Tom's attitude. "I just thought that y/n might want some tea as well. You can get your own." She hands one saucer to you with a knowing smile.

You sit down on your bed, and take a nervous sip, scanning the wallpaper patterns to distract yourself. Tom is still watching you, his eyes intently looking at your lips.

"So... what were you gettin' up to?" Lois' eyes twinkle with mischief. Obviously she's deduced what was about to happen.

Oh nothing, it's just that your brother was going to kiss me. You raise your head, and meet his eyes. He simply smirks at you, and you can't help but feel warm inside. And it's not because of the flippin' tea.

"Y'know," Tom shrugs, then gestures to you. "Just getting acquainted with this beauty here."

You narrow your eyes at him. Try me.

"Riiight," Lois eyebrows rise as high as they possibly go. "Well, I guess I could - "

"I'll head downstairs for a moment. See what Douglas is up to." You stand abruptly, your teacup rattling as a result.

Tom calls your name, telling you to "Hold on, doll."

God, I can't bear to look at him right now, otherwise I just might snog him in front of Lois.

"I need some air," you glance at him briefly, before slinkering out of the bedroom door, and out of Tom's bloody reach.

You take a deep breath, and try to compose yourself while at the top of the staircase.

Tom's and Lois' hushed voices could be heard from the room, and you catch hints of what could be - "Bad timing" - "Don't be a fool!" - "... my friend" - and of course a lovely contribution from Tom - "Bloody cockblock."

Douglas spots you after you descend the staircase. He kindly asks, "You alright? You look flushed. Tom wasn't being rude or anything, was he?"

Rude? Maybe he's rude for not kissing me fast enough.

"Oh, not at all," you smile sweetly, joining him at the table.

"That's good. I know he can be..." Douglas trails off, and you shrug in understanding. Tom can be a lot of things, alright. Is he a good snog though? I almost found out.

"Well, I was just makin' dinner," Douglas points to the steaming pot on the stove. "Should be ready in a few minutes."

Heavy booted footsteps come pounding down the stairs, and Tom materializes in the kitchen. He stands beside your chair, hand resting on the back.

"Alright?"He throws out a nonchalant greeting. Douglas merely hums in response. When Tom notices that you barely acknowledged his presence, he leans in close to your ear, "Alright, doll?"

He's so close that if you turn your head to the side, your noses might bump into each other. You give him a sideways glance, before dryly saying, "Oh, I'm just dandy, sweetheart."

He's making your heart race, and he knows it. Enjoys it even.

This prick. This... handsome prick.

Tom, due to his godforsaken lack of shame, quickly presses his lips to your cheek. The resulting kiss is fleeting, and lasts for but a millisecond. But you still feel him, even when he leans away, the lips that just grazed your cheekbone stretched wide in his enduring cheeky smile.

He jumps back on his heel, as if nothing out of the ordinary has just occurred.

"Quit pesterin' her, son," Douglas scolds, then gives you a look of sympathy. You wonder if he caught that little kiss Tom gave you, but you know it wouldn't matter to Tom either way.

"Need a beer," Tom simply says, as he walks over to the fridge. His prize in hand, he brings it to his lips and expertly uncaps it with his teeth. You can't help but watch him with intent, wondering why he even thought to kiss you in that moment.

"Call when dinner's done," Tom heads back to the staircase, and you twist in your chair, and mouth what the fuck at him.

He gets the message, but true to form, opts to answer you with a bloody wink. His expression remains smug even when he reaches his bedroom.

Tom - 1, You - 0

For now.

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

For the next week, the tension is heightened, each and every moment you're around Tom.

In the room you both share with Lois, he always makes sure to give you lingering looks when she's not looking. Or purposefully initiating skin-to-skin contact whenever he brushes past you.

A gentle hand on your shoulder. On your back. Once he even claims to spot an eyelash on your cheek, so his brilliant solution is to grip your face with both hands and gently blow on the supposed spot.

For a long moment he just stays in place, even with the rogue eyelash gone. You feel his strong, callused fingers moving against your skin. His bright blue eyes land on your lips, then back to your wide-eyed stare.

"Like a pretty little deer in headlights," he hums.

Well, he isn't wrong. If only Lois... wait, Lois!

That realization renders you alert, and out of your Tom-induced haze. You quickly step back from him, and with a nervous laugh, and a glance at Lois who sits by the boudoir, you make sure to raise your voice to say, "Gee, well, uh, thanks for that, Tom."

Tom merely gives you a nod. You notice his usual smirk is not in place, and his brows are furrowed as he examines his shoes.

"I've got to go," Tom mumbles near incoherently. He seems careful not to touch you as he walks past, giving you as wide of a berth as he can.

The bedroom door shuts behind him, and you slump down on your bed. It's just never the right moment, is it?

"You fancy my brother," Lois nonchalantly declares, as she skims her book.

"What?" You swivel around to look at her, appearing shocked at her observation. "I... I don't - "

"Come on," Lois throws you a meaningful look, and you know for certain that you can't deny the truth to her. "We both know that if I weren't sharin' the room with you two, then you'd have bloody bonked each other already!" She laughs towards the end, and you can't help but mirror the gesture.

"Okay, well," you sit up cross-legged on the bed, as if preparing to have a discussion. "What do you really make of all this?"

"I think," Lois leans in, like you're schoolyard friends sharing a secret, "that you've caused my brother to go insane."

"Lois! Be serious," you groaned.

"I am serious!" she insists. "He's never been like this. Around anyone. And I've seen him with plenty of dames before."

"He likes me," you repeat, your tone unsure. "This isn't all just some cat and mouse game?"

"Mhmm," Lois happily asserts.

Tom - 1, You - 1

But where did that damn rascal go?

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

Much later, in the wee hours of the night, Tom wonders what you would think of him in the present moment.

Whether you would care that Suzy Collings from down the road is perched on his lap as they're necking on the couch in the concealed back end of the pub. If you would simply glare at the sight and walk off, or if you would grab Suzy by the collar and drag her away.

Tom thinks of how your lips would feel, as Suzy nips at his neck. He imagines how soft your hips would be, as Suzy grabs his hands and presses them to hers. His mind is occupied with the image of your face and how he adores every feature of it, as Suzy smiles at him with rouge-stained lips.

He thinks of you, when he shouldn't be. It's you every time.

Why does this all feel wrong? Tom realizes that he does not feel the slightest bit aroused even with Suzy clad in only her brassiere on top of him. The sight of your bloody knees when your skirt rides up an inch would do a much better job. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Tom thought he just has a mere infatuation with you, and he has those all the time, doesn't he? And isn't like most dames are shy about their affections towards him either.

He thought he could just go on with usual antics, and shake off this weird feeling - one that he can't quite point his finger on.

But he keeps thinking about you... you... and the two of you are not even together.

I haven't even bloody kissed her yet!

And yet... It's as if I'm already hers.

"Sorry, doll," Tom turns his cheek, avoiding another kiss. "I'm just not in the mood right now."

"Are you kidding me? When are you not in the mood, sugar?" Suzy responds, in a honeyed voice, tracing patterns on Tom's face.

"Now," Tom lifts her from his lap, and props her to the side. He then makes a flippant comment, saying, "You should get dressed. Might catch a cold and all."

"Prick," Suzy calls out as he walks away with no further explanation.

Tom leaves the pub with no clear destination intended, but he only has one thought running through his head.

You.

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

In celebration of Tom Bennett's brief return in World on Fire S2!!! A regrettable 3 minutes of screentime, but even that is a damn miracle knowing how rare it is to be granted a look at our Iceberg 💙

series taglist: @greenowlfactif @schniiipsel @tssf-imagines @aemond-secondson @ahdushenka @bat-revival @mefools @mischiefmanaged71 @svtansdaddyx @chainsawangel @tinykryptonitewerewolf @yentroucnagol @nightdiamond8663 @bookwyrmsblog @rwdkarla @saminalloxo

[hellbornsworld]

BTS X READER WATTPAD RECOMMENDATIONS(2) ⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

✨Hostess | BTS X Reader | Author : blingchick | 47 Parts | Completed

"A whore is someone who sells their body; a hostess is someone who entertains guests to make them feel welcomed and loved. There is a difference."

✨𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐑 | BTS | No Reader | Author : godlycurse | 140 Parts | Completed

In which Kim Taehyung tweets at a Dora the Explorer twt account and gets a creepy dm from them. Soon , he realizes he got himself into some deep sh*t and has to discover who's behind the account before it's to late.

✨Survival | BTS X OC | 1000% | Slow Burn | Author : BangtanArmies | 155 Parts | Completed

A tragic love story filled with pain, betrayals, miseries and deadly plot twists.

✨Buttons | BTS X Reader | Coraline!AU | Author : TaeTae_lyfe | 31 Parts | Completed

"Nothing's changed. You'll go home. You'll be bored. You'll be ignored. No one will listen to you, really listen to you. You're too clever and too beautiful for them to understand. They don't even remember your name."

✨ Mask Parade | BTS X Reader | Author : blingchick | 33 Parts | Ongoing

"Sometimes it's not the people who change, it's the mask that falls off."

✨killjoy | Only BTS | Author : taenology | 50 Parts | Completed

a computer game can't hurt anyone, right?

✨The Keeper's Tale | BTS X Reader | Author : TaeTae_lyfe | 45 Parts | Completed

They witnessed her destruction, They were left to wonder why, She saw nothing but darkness, Though the stars shown in her eyes, But maybe they'd forgotten, When they failed to see the cracks, That a stars light shines brightest, When it starts to collapse.

✨Singularity | BTS x Reader | Author : mociminji | 36 Parts | Ongoing

You were stolen by the devil. He claimed you as his own. Little did he know, you are going to be the death of him.

✨The Seven | BTS X Reader | Author : TaeTae_lyfe | 45 Parts | Completed

"I'm crazy? No, darling. What's crazy is that the world refuses to let me be with you."

✨Black Swan | BTS X Reader | Author : blingchick | 17 Parts | Ongoing

"What are you going to do to me now, Swan?"

✨The 7 Princes | BTS X Reader | Author : FireTiger8 | 82 Parts | Completed

Surprise! Your parents have been keeping a secret from you - you are royal princess and sole heir to the throne. To break the news to you, your parents have sent you to a neighboring kingdom where seven handsome, irresistible princes will teach you all you need to know about becoming the next ruler.

✨The Blue Eyes Series | BTS X Reader | Author : TaeTae_lyfe | 4 Books | Ongoing

# BOOK 1 The Four Kingdoms |

There's a fire in her. If loved correctly, she will warm your entire home. If abused, she will burn it to ash.

# BOOK 2 Pyramids |

She didn't need a crown, because she wasn't a queen.... She was a goddess.

# BOOK 3 Dynasty |

You can say she's crazy, but her eyes see the spirits of the past.... She talks to them.... And they talk back.

# BOOK 4 Mist |

You watch her walk away and it hits you that she is an entire ocean And you were wrong, so very wrong Because you let her go Thinking she was just a girl

✨Gods of the Sea | BTS!Vocal Liner X Reader | Author : FireTiger8 | 87 Parts | Completed

"My name is Captain Jeon Jungkook. I'm here to kidnap you."

✨Badboy | BTS X Reader | OneShots | Author : shooknae | 8 Parts | Completed

7 boys, 7 chapters, 7 different stories

✨Oh My Gospel! | BTS X Reader | Author : mociminji | 88 Parts | Ongoing

In which you are a prude theology student and one day, your sneaky twin brother sent you a link to the livestream of an infamous camboy, Park Jimin.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Other Posts:

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION (1)

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JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS(3)

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION(4)

ALL BTS MEMBERS WATTPAD RECOMMENDATIONS(1)

[professorcalculusstanaccount]

i absolutely lost my mind discovering your blog this morning. i absolutely adore your style and your story/concept ideas SO MUCH. i love your love for chang and i adore how you draw him and just the love and care you have for the characters and their stories, their history-just everything. oh my god your art and animations are incredible thank you so much you made me so happy this morning 😭😭😭

Thank you very much! I just feel like the Tintin universe has a lot of potential for deep dives. Herge often drew inspiration from the real world so that naturally brings a lot of richness - I'm just lucky to have the privilege of having nearly a century of hindsight and an Internet connection for my research!

also fun fact, I draw Chang the way I do for multiple reasons. I ramble so here's a Read More:

The first is just to update how Chinese people are depicted in this style - I'm Chinese myself (British Chinese) and while I do appreciate Chang's original appearance was basically modelled off a real guy and Herge really did try his best with depicting Chinese people sensitively I wouldn't be comfortable sticking exactly to those original portrayals (tbh it’s mostly the eyes and the skin colour I have an issue with, I liked the weird rubberiness of early Herge!). I also would like to update how the Japanese characters were portrayed too as man those designs are viscerally uncomfortable (like those characters were villainous because they were doing imperialism, not because they're Japanese man come on)

The second is - Chang is a fucking shapeshifter. I swear he looks different in every appearance he makes in official materials. You're telling me these are all the same guy??

From left to right: Chang from a postage stamp that uses artwork from The Blue Lotus, the middle is from the 90s cartoon and the one on the right is from a... cheese sticker??? His nose, hair and face shapes change quite a bit

To get his design I mixed together the 90s cartoon version with the original. People have mentioned The Cheekbones Chang has in the 90s cartoon but I actually like how they give him a distinct shape, it helps differentiate his shape language from Tintin who's all round and soft.

For his young adult design I initially thought to reference Tintin in Tibet but he's so malnourished and close to death his portrayal there probably wasn't intended to represent what he's normally like. I just took my design for Chang and pushed the shapes more. I thought it would be cool for him to look pretty different when he grows up as a contrast to how static Tintin is as a character.

The third (and funniest) reason why I draw Chang the way I do is I actually look a lot like Blue Lotus Chang to a frightening degree, like to the point where it looks like my likeness was stolen 70 years before I even existed. I do not like thinking about my physical existence! I do not want to draw myself! No thank you!! my self insert is haddock if we’re being real

[dontfindmerain]

hotel room

summary: about 800 words, short little drabble on the one bed trope with wilbur. Wilbur and reader are very close friends. for the lovely @toiletwipes <3

not proof read sns

a/n: sorry if the formatting is weird, I wrote this at work on mobile :')

Wilbur was an idiot. Plain and simple. An absolute fool. What other explanation could there be for this situation he had put you both in?

Wilbur had been the one to suggest booking a hotel room instead of driving a few hours back to your american friend's apartment. He found a nice enough place and all for a pretty good price. He only made one mistake.

There was only one damn bed. Even worse, it was just a tad too small for you to both fit comfortably without being rather close.

"Wilbur, what the hell are we going to do now?" you laughed at him, his face was proper flushed, muttering something about how he was tired when he booked the room.

"I didn't think to check, I had assumed there would be two beds," he glared at you as you continued to giggle, "It's not that funny darling, if you keep laughing I might just make you sleep on the floor." You stopped and gaped at him.

"Uh-uh, nope, you fucked up, you're sleeping on the floor. It's either that or we'll have to share it.." you trailed off as your face heated at the thought.

It's not like it would be the end of the world. Only it was. As much as you hated to admit it, you liked Wilbur a lot. Much more than the friendship you currently shared. Wilbur didn't need to know that, though. Him and his stupidly cute face..

He smirked at you and teased, "Oh yeah? I'm sure you'd like that a lot, wouldn't you, sweetheart?" He stepped closer to you, and your eyes focused on the ground, finding it very interesting at this moment.

His hand lifted your chin up to face him before leaning in to whisper in your ear, "Go on darling, use your words."

Your face became impossibly flushed, stuttering while attempting to find the right thing to say. Wilbur had always been flirty with you, but this seemed different. He stepped back, laughing and shaking his head.

"I'm just teasing you, my love, I'll sleep on the floor since it was me who-"

"No, we can share. It's fine," you cut him off speaking quickly. You covered your mouth as soon as the words escaped. Shit. There is no way you just said that out loud.

He smiled at you a little confused, "Alright then, whatever you like. I'll take the bags while you get changed, yeah?"

Your mind was racing, but you managed a nod, grabbing a large t-shirt and some rather short shorts. After practically running to the bathroom and changing, you headed back over to Wilbur.

He had already gotten ready for bed and was scrolling through his phone, waiting for you to join him. You cautiously slid into bed beside him, trying to give him enough room, but barely having any yourself.

"Seriously, love?" Wilbur chuckled, motioning for you to come closer, "Come here, you're going to fall." You obliged, scooting next to him and getting comfortable as he wraps his arms around you. You were blushing intensely, his scent enveloping you. He tangled his legs with yours so that neither of you were hanging off the edge and brought you even closer to him.

If that wasn't enough to make you flustered, what he did next definitely was.

He squeezed you gently and pressed a kiss onto your forehead, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He chuckled when your breath hitched, knowing the effect he had on you.

"Darling, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you might have a fever from how warm you're getting," he spoke lowly, teasing again, "Would you like to explain yourself?"

Once again, you were at a loss for words, as if he had stolen them from you. The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy as he pulled back to look at you again.

"Hmm, struggling, are we? Gods, you're adorable, you know that?" He smiled, glancing down at your lips.

Somehow, that snapped you out of your speechless state. "I am not adorable! I am a menace to society! How dare you even sugg-"

He cut off your ramble with a kiss, cautious at first and then confident when you kissed him back. His hands traveled from your back down to your hips and squeezing. You gasped, mouth opening and he took the opportunity to explore you further.

When you finally pulled back for air, looking up at him, his pupils were blown wide, face red and lips swollen. He smiled so big his eyes crinkled at the corners. "Do you know how long I've wanted to do that, my love?"

"Yeah? I dont know, maybe you should kiss me again just so I can be sure," you smiled back at him, closing the short distance between the two of you once more.

You guessed it was safe to say he liked you back. He was still an idiot, no doubt. But he was your idiot.

[cosmicpines]

There are a lot of things I'm thinking after watching the Alex Hirsch interview but a lot of it really is how much I appreciate how much I have learned about storytelling and emotion and how much of that was through GF. I'm sure most of the people who were around back in the day aren't here anymore, but there was a theory called Grunk4Gramp that arose in the hiatus after NWHS and before ATOTS. It was essentially that, since we knew Stan had stolen Ford, (god, he was still Stanley at the time)'s identity, that Grunkle Stan was the twins' grandfather. And I don't remember my exact opinion at the time but then when the "Shermie's grandkids" line and the fandom exploded again. I don't remember exactly when I realized that, yeah, that is a bit of a sloppy solution, but emotionally, yeah. It can't be Stan or Ford because that would retroactively make one or both of them really, really bad. It would be heavy and super complicated to cover in half a season. And then hearing Alex literally say that, practically word for word, just makes me really happy.

It makes me think more about just the prevailing attitude of "oh they're geniuses they must have had a plan for everything!" level of deep scrutiny. Which like, honestly? Fair. Most of us were in high school or younger. GF was a show like no other. It encouraged this kind of behavior. In retrospect, the moment that started falling apart for me was when a lot of people were so deeply insistent on the slit pupil maybe-still-possessed-Bipper thing after NWHS that I just... It's like Grunk4Gramp. What kind of storytelling would it be if Dipper wasn't making any of his own decisions? What would we even gain from the story then?

Being a creator is very difficult. Even as creators, we often forget that people who make things are still human and make mistakes. We sometimes forget that things can't be perfect and shiny and are just going to be good enough. We fight for those emotional beats and sometimes it'll make something inconsistent. Or sometimes something will fall a little flat. Or sometimes something will fall really flat. And that it happens to everyone, even creators we really love and respect. The best we can do as people is fight for the story we want to tell, not filling every plot hole and demanding an answer for every little thing. It's fun to be the second -- god, don't I know it. It is SO MUCH FUN overanalyzing things, ask literally any of my friends -- but knowing that something being complicated and intricate doesn't mean its good and vice versa.

Anyway I just really respect the GF crew and how much they put into this show, even now, 12 fucking years later. I really respect and love the fandom and all the wild shit that came out of it. My main creative project right now wouldn't exist if it wasn't for an offshoot fandom of the GF fandom, which is really a weird thing to say out of context. I just miss it.

oh also I found this on my blog while trying to find grunk4gramp things and lmao

8 years ago...

[ohtobeleah]

Hi leah! I just found your strictly scandalous drabbles and I am panting! Woof! If you are taking requests, could you write a sequel to bob x reader x hangman polaroid one? The little hint at something more at the very end has me on my tippy toes !

I also loved the hungman one btw 😘

Ah yes, the much anticipated sequel to this bad boy. Please I beg you 🙏 save me from hell.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“You’re fucking kidding me.” Bob had sat you down in the shared living room of the dorms on base when he broke the news that Jake had not only gone through his stuff, but he’d stolen the polaroids of you. “Bob! We have to get them back!” You stood to your feet, panic rushing through your body as your heart raced in embarrassment–but when you actually went to leave? Bob was gripping at your wrist pulling you back down into his lap. “What are you doing? We have to get them back before–”

“I already got them back.” Bob admitted and you felt an instant wave of relief wash over you. “But not in exchange for nothing.” He couldn't even look at you, couldn't face you when Bob had to tell you what he’d agreed to in order to get your pictures back. He wasn't proud of it, but it seemed like the most tolerable idea out of the several options Hangman had given him.

“What don't I know–?” You asked softly, tipping Bob chin up so he’d face you, look you in the eye and hopefully tell you something that wasn't gut churning or hard to hear. “Bob honey, it's okay–you can tell me.”

“Hangman wants to watch next time I take pictures of you.” It physically stung when Bob had told you what the exchange had been. “And I said yes because out of everything he suggested it was the most mundane of them all.”

“Having you take Boudoir Photographs of me doesn’t extend out to Jake fucking Seresin!” You hissed as you pushed yourself out of Bob's lap. “God are you kidding me, Robert!” Oh, fuck–he really was in trouble. Bob hadn’t been called Robert since his mother had schooled him last for not separating the whites from the darks when doing his laundry. “I'm not some commodity that can be traded! I'm a person, with real fucking feelings and I'm not comfortable with this!”

“Before you rip Bob's head off–” Jake's voice echoed through the living room as he leaned on the wall, arms crossed over his chest. How long had he been watching? “He wasn't all that up for sharing either.”

“Get the fuck out of here Hangman before I break your fucking nose.” It wasn't a threat Jake took lightly as he approached you slowly, holding his hands up in surrender. “And how fucking dare you take those pictures! They weren't yours!” It was more embarrassment than anything taking–because deep deep down? There was something so hot about the fact Jake had taken them. It wasn't to anger Bob or piss you off–although they were added bonuses. Jake took the polaroids because he thought you were incredibly attractive for someone he thought had never touched a man in her entire life.

“Can you really blame me?” Hangman taunted as he stood toe to toe with you, tilting your chin up to match his gaze as he looked down on you slightly. “My favorite was the one of you in the men's locker room getting off with the shower head–bet I could do a better job if you gave me the chance?” You couldn’t fucking breathe, there was no way Jake was doing this right in front of Bob. “I bet Bob here wouldn't mind taking a pretty little picture of you withering away under my touch.”

“I said you could be present, I didn't say you could touch her Seresin.” That's when Bob stood up, stepping between you two as he came to your defense. “That's the deal, you’d sit in the corner and keep your mouth shut, that's what we agreed on.”

“How’s about it Vee?” Jake grinned as he waited for you to agree. “How about a front-row seat?” It wasn't that you were okay with it entirely, perhaps you needed a few nights to sleep on it–but there really was a part of you that found it fucking hot that Jake was so obsessed with you he wanted to see what went on behind closed doors when Bob did an x-rated Boudoir shoot with you.

“You can look but you can't touch.” That's all Hangman needed to put his plan to fuck you into place. Grinning ear to ear as he stuck his hand out for you to shake.

“Deal.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

When the day had finally come–Jake stayed true to his word. Well, for the most part anyway. For the first half of the shoot, he watched with a hard on the the size of Mt fucking Evertest as you touched yourself, clad in Bob’s pick of lingerie. The more you thought about it? The more you tolerated the idea when you thought about being in lingerie–not completely exposed.

“That’s nice baby– touch your neck for me, yeah?” Bob instructed you as you spread your legs a little more as you held the pretty black vibrator against your lingerie-clad clit. Choking yourself as Bob zoomed in–capturing you for all you were worth as he laid flat on the carpet of his dorm. Snapping away. “Just like that, wanna see you cum.”

For the most part, you could ignore Hangman's presence as he sat on Bob's bed, completely entranced by your beauty as you softly moaned out Bob’s name and worked yourself towards an orgasm just so he could take a pretty picture of the moment and keep it forever.

“Can I suggest something?” Jake's voice nearly startled you as he slid off Bob's bed, crawling towards you before dragging you forward by your ankles so he could slide in behind you. “Don't worry, I'm not trying any funny business Bobby boy, just trying to help you capture the moment.”

“Make it quick–” You groaned as you shuffled forward a little more as Jake slid in beside you. “I was really close.”

“Trust me.” was all Hangman growled as he keeled behind you, pulling you back by your shoulders so your back was flush against his thighs. You could feel his hard-on pressing against the back of your neck. “Do you trust me, Vee?” You wanted to say fuck no–but you found yourself nodding as you went back to working the vibrator against your swollen core as Jake wrapped his hand around your neck. His exposed lower abdomen was barely in the shot as your jaw slacked and Bob took the shot.

“That looks awesome, Jake–just cup her breast really gently for me.” You’d tuned out to what the reality of the situation was. Your boyfriend was directing Jake fucking Seresin to touch you in ways you never wanted another man to touch you. But coming from Bob? It felt so right, it felt so powerful and it felt so good as Jake slid his hand down the valley of your chest–doing exactly what Bob had instructed.

“Like this?” Jake cooed as he squeezed over the top of your lingerie–making you shiver under his touch as you turned up the power on your vibrator.

“Perfect–” Bob was being extra careful not to capture Jake's face in any of the polaroids that fell from the bottom of his camera. “Stay like that until Y/n cums.” Jake tightened his grip on your throat as you tensed up, your breathing had increased to something beyond rapid as you coaxed yourself towards a high. “Come on baby, you look so pretty–doesn't she Hangman?”

“Just the prettiest.” It had surely been the praise that sent you over the edge. As Jake and Bob tandomed praising you with sweet nothings you felt yourself giving over to the tsunami that was your orgasm. Bob was laser focused as he captured you in the state you were in— your jaw slack as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Thighs trembling.

“Ohhhhh fffuuuggghhhh—“ You sounded like an angel, Jake swore he’d never heard a more beautiful sound. Arousal dripped from your cunt, seeping into your panties as you collapsed into Hangman who shared a look with Bob who just shrugged and continued taking photos. As much as he hated to admit it? Bob was capturing you in a way he’d never seen before and it was turning him on to new extremes.

“So, I have another idea—if you're down?” Unbeknownst to you and Bob, this had been Jake's plan all along. To wiggle his way into the picture just enough to take over and manipulate the situation in his advantage.

He wanted his own Polaroids of you—not that he hadn't taken photos of the ones he originally stole from Bob on his phone. He’d never jerked off to someone as perfect as you. He’d admit Robert Floyd was a lucky man but fuck he didn’t know how to handle a woman like you—no way no how.

Not only did Jake want his only Polaroids of you, but he wanted to taste you, he wanted to fuck you. He wanted to show you just what he could do to you—but he needed to crawl before he could run.

***~***~***~***~***~***~

It was an experience you thought you’d never be able to check off your 2023 bingo card—Bob was positioning you just right. His hands guided yours to where he wanted them.

“So good for me baby, just want you to look up at Jake with those doe eyes I know you’ve got yeah?”

“Like what you see darlin?” Jake taunted as he looked down at you, you were down on your knees for him. As he beamed a shit eating grin at you—the grip his hand had in your hair only tightened to pull a reaction right out of you.

“Ahhh—“ You hissed as Jake twitched in your hand, you were palming him off through his boxer briefs. Again, Bob saw no identifying features of you nor Jake for only a few shots. He was preemptively preparing for the conversation he knew he’d be having after this was over. Jake would want his own polaroids. If Bob had the share Jake wasn’t getting any with your face in it. Or his for that matter. “Kinda feels like you like what you see too.”

“Vee, I’m fucking mesmerised.” Jake was honest as you slowly but surely slipped your hand into his briefs. Bob snapped away as he surged you through whatever thought process you were having.

“Nice baby, whatever you wanna do I’m okay with—so long as you’re comfortable.” You knew things would be complicated after this, but your inner self wasn’t holding you back. You wanted to explore, experience whatever this was that was being handed to you on a silver platter.

“Yeah Vee, so long as you're comfortable.” Looking up at Hangman through your lashes, you kissed up the side of his shaft. It drew an audible groan that was so deep and prolonged from the depths of his chest out of him. “Shit, you know what you’re doing after all.”

As you shifted your lips to wrap around Jake's tip, Bob kept snapping away, he’d surely be out of film soon—but he wasn’t missing a single moment of this. Perhaps he was into Voyeurism, because he’d never been so hard before. Palming himself off while he took polaroid after Polaroid if you sucking Jake Seresin off.

“Uuhhh fughh Y/n you nasty little bitch.” Jake had accepted the fact this might be all he gets tonight, not wanting to push the limit too far. He’d play his cards right and reel you into the idea of fucking him eventually. With or without Bob present. But for now? He’d settle for the way you were taking him inch by inch into your throat. Gaging as he shoved himself a little further down with a little force.

“Watch it Seresin, that’s still my girl you’ve got your hands on there.” Bob warned from behind his camera as you pulled away with a gasp. Teary eyed and a string of saliva connecting your lips to Jake's tip.

“Just such a pretty little mouth, I couldn’t help myself.” Jake winked as he tilted your chin upwards. “You aren’t gonna not finish me off are you?” He raised the question and you remained silent, not wanting to give Hangman the satisfaction of a verbal answer. Instead you just took him back in your mouth. Bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you worked to suck him dry. “Ahhh yes that’s right Vee, suck my fucking cock.”

Bob was growing increasingly concerned that this was getting a little out of hand. As he snapped his last polaroid, he looked up and saw he was nearly out of film.

“I’m outta film Hangman, sessions over—“

“God, give me like ten more seconds.” He groaned as he took control of your head, his hands cupping your cheeks and fisting into your hair as he face fucked you. Gags echoing off the walls before a final primal moan escaped Jake as he pulled out and held your head back, jerking off to paint your face.

Bob just couldn’t resist using his last snap on such a sight. God you looked so pretty. Coated in cum.

“Come by my dorm with a few of those will ya Bobby?” Jake asked as he leaned in to lick a strip of his load from your cheek. “And make sure you call me when you actually wanna fuck Darlin.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

#Strictlyscandalous Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin

[clearwillow]

So I just saw the post you reblogged about A.I on Tumblr and I'm not sure what to think. I want to get back into post my Inuyasha art but now I'm worried about this whole ordeal. On the one hand I don't want to give up making and sharing my art w/ others (esp. Since I haven't in a while), but now I'm scared about it being stolen and other artists I love giving up posting. This whole debate with A.I has me so confused and scared and I really don't know whats going on. I'm also curious about what you will do if this deal goes through. Do you plan on using Glaze or something similar?

Come sit with me, anon cause to be frank, I'm trying to take that particular post with a grain of salt. I hope it's wrong, because it wasn't long ago we were hit with "oh my god tumblr is closing where is everyone going" and we're still here. But I won't lie, it pisses me off greatly that it's even a possibility.

I completely understand, and I say - go ahead and post it. Don't give up on art because a bunch of fuck bois with no talent in their short hairs decide that generative technology is the way to go. I honestly hope that it crashes and burns in the next couple years, if not sooner. It had potential before fat old men in suits decided that they had to have more money than they know what to do with. I'm not quitting, because it's my income. It's my joy. I am also fueled by spite, because if I wasn't I wouldn't be here right now.

Art getting stolen is always going to be a thing to worry about, even before AI unfortunately. People will repost without credit and still take credit when that post gets more traction. Create a watermark and be a menace to the reposters, I say. There's Glaze, like you mentioned, and Nightshade. I've heard you have to do them in that order for it to be effective.

You can also search haveIbeentrained.com to see if your work has been picked up and request for it to be pulled from the databases. I've found three more of mine this evening. One was one of my mother's paintings.

I've already erased 15 years of work off the internet when I deleted my deviantart gallery at the end of 2022. Some of that work is so old it was never shared anywhere else. I may not even have that work anymore. If the deal were to go through, I'm not deleting my blog. It's been active since 2012; there's no way I could go through and find every art post and delete it to repost glazed/nightshade versions. It won't affect the reblogs. I haven't personally tried Glazing anything yet because I'm not sure if it'd even be effective with my style, but it's something to try when time allows.

I'm gonna say it again - don't give up on your art. Whether you're doing it as a career (I dare someone say art is a sidehustle, this is not MLM and I am not some 2-bit influencer) or because it is something you just enjoy doing for the hell of it, you should continue. I've seen people give up entirely on art in the last year, and it makes me mad. If art is something you want to do, you shouldn't let anyone make you feel like you can't.

And if you need someone to rally behind you and cheer you on, you've got me in your corner 💕 Hell, feel free to tag me in some of your art, if you'd like!

[opticfile]

𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐡é

—✦ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 // in which a player (Lutz Beilschmidt himself) falls for real this time, and the girl he's enamored by has to overcome his reputation.

✧ taken from my old quotev!! not stolen work!!!

—✦ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 // Lutz Beilschmidt (APH 2p!Germany)

—✦ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 // drinking, angst, assumed cheating, betrayal, fluff

3.3k words

The pounding in your head was only outweighed by the obnoxiously loud sound of the music blaring from the living room. It was another frat party, one you didn't intend on going to, but hey, you only live once. At least this time there was more of a theme, it was a Halloween costume party—though that mostly just meant sorority girls got to add a cat ear headband to their usual miniskirt and heels.

You and your friends were not dressed in the classic slutty animal costumes, and the more and more this party went on the more you were both thankful and regretful. Emma convinced you and Darcy to dress like... wizards. Not the cute, girly kind, the kind with the 2-foot beards and starry robes. Then again, Emma still managed to make the shapeless robes sexy, and she discarded her beard long ago. You were about to rip off your own, the synthetic material was getting itchy. 

The whole thankful and regretful part came in when you saw possibly the most notorious trio on campus, the biggest players to grace the university in about... what? 20? 30 years? Allen L. Jones (he claims the L stands for Liberty), Zao Wang, and none other than Lutz Beilschmidt stood in the middle of a group of girls, dressed as... holy shit, are they dressed as the Powerpuff Girls?

"Oh my god their shorts are so... short!" Emma giggled, "You can see every muscle..."

"When did the Powerpuff Girls get so slutty," You scoffed, itching under your fake grey beard. "...and buff."

"I see Lutz hasn't changed a bit," Darcy snorted, "Still as much of a manwhore as ever."

"I still can't believe he played you like that." Emma grimaced.

"Like a fiddle." You added in.

"Let's not revisit that..." Darcy dragged her hands down her face.

As Emma and Darcy got caught up in drinks and boys, you found yourself needing a breath of fresh air. Maybe if you were drinking right now, or at least a little tipsy, you might be able to deal with the sight of Allen showing off his biceps to four women. The backyard wasn't really that much better—toilet paper strung through the trees, the blaring music still within hearing, and a random couple making out behind a bush—but it was an improvement. You sat on the wooden steps of the deck, itching under your beard again. You hoped it wouldn't leave a rash...

“Merlin?”

“Huh?” You turned your head to be met with... Of course! Lutz! Probably the last person you wanted to see right now.

“Gandalf?”

“Oh, uh, more like… unlicensed no copyright generic wizard character…” You turned back forwards, praying he would go away.

“Gotcha, my favorite.” He sat next to you. Great! 

"Shouldn't you be, ya know, whoring out?" You snorted, glancing at him as his face distorted into an amused grin.

"Hey, I'm not all slut. I need breaks from the noise too sometimes." He nudged you, “I don't think I’ve seen you around.”

“Oh, we actually have the same world history class-" Unfortunately. "-with Professor Neilson?" He stared at you owlishly,  "Here, wait, maybe removing the beard will help.”

You pulled down the itchy beard and Lutz drank in your facial features. Scrunching up your face, you removed it completely and tossed it on the steps beside you.

“Oh, now I recognize you!" He smiled, before letting it morph into a more sheepish expression, "…Can I get a name though orrrrr…”

"...Y/n." You exhaled through your nose, turning away from him. "Don't worry, I already know your name."

"I'm glad!" He grinned broadly, "Introductions were never my favorite."

"..."

“Sooo... Can I get you a drink?

“I’m actually the designated driver so I’ll pass.” 

“Ah, respectable. Maybe something non-alcoholic then?”

“Actually I probably should be getting home to my, uh, my fairy godmother.” You internally facepalmed, god you were mixing up your fairytales. “Like in uh, Cinderella.”

“I didn't know unlicensed no copyright generic wizard character was a Cinderella character.” Lutz snorted,

“He’s from a remake, Cinder…wizard… It’s really popular overseas.” You checked your nonexistent watch, “Oops, clock is about to strike twelve.”

"Is your fake beard the Cinderwizard version of a glass slipper?" He chuckled, eliciting a genuine giggle from you—god you were gonna have to shoot yourself later.

"Sure, but it's stretchy so it's probably more like a one size fits all.

“Well… seeing as I know what you look like and where to find you, I’d say I'm a few steps ahead of Prince Charming.”

“Yeah, ‘I know where to find you’ isn’t creepy at all.”

“Sorry,” He laughed airily, “I’ll see you around then.” 

You quickly excused yourself and hurriedly walked back into the party to meet with Emma and Darcy .

"Was that Lutz? Why was Lutz talking to you?" Darcy inquired, hushedly but urgently.

"He was just asking for bathroom directions!" You made up an excuse.

"Isn't this... his frat house?" Emma raised a brow.

"Okay, okay, listen. He just- He just came over and he wouldn't leave and then told me he knew where to find me and- I don't know it was torture!" You whined.

"God, don't tell me you're his next victim..." Darcy shivered, "We need to keep you away from him, at all costs."

"Y/n L/n and Lutz Beilschmidt..." Professor Neilson continued to announce the pairs for a group project, and you felt like you were dying inside. Lutz's head popped up from his resting place on his desk.

"No way." You said in unison (though one was obviously far more excited than the other), and you glanced at him to see him grinning widely at you.

The moment class was dismissed and students began funneling out you made your way to Professor Neilson's desk with some very strong words and a lot of questions.

"Professor, not to question your judgment but why was I paired up with Lutz?" You frowned.

"I think you'll be a good influence on him-" 

"But-"

"-and he isn't a slacker so you won't be doing the project alone. You and Beilschmidt need to work together, just for this week." He said, sternly as he turned back to the various papers spread across his desk.

"C'mon, don't tell me you're trying to get rid of me already." A very familiar German accent purred behind you, an arm—a muscular arm but you tried not to go there—slung around your shoulder.

"Of course not, partner." You grimaced. "You smell like beer..."

"Sorry, süße, I'll wear cologne when we study." 

You shrugged off his arm with a groan, walking out of the classroom as Lutz trailed behind you. He easily kept up with your speedy strides, damn him for being so tall and quick on his feet, you were hoping all that muscle would weigh him down.

...You really have to stop thinking about his muscular build.

"Hey, wait, I thought we got off on the right foot." Lutz continued following you like a lost puppy until you turned around and glared straight at him.

"Listen, Lutz, I know a little too well what kind of guy you are and I really don't want to get involved so can you please just..." You sighed, "Just do your part and let's not get buddy-buddy."

"Hey, I was looking forwards to getting buddy-buddy..." He huffed, "Listen, Y/n, I know I have a reputation but that doesn't mean we can't be friendly, I mean c'mon, give me a fair chance."

You glanced between him and the crowd of students trailing the hallways, groaning as you gave in.

"Fine. But make one wrong move and I'm out."

"He's your what?" Emma gasped.

"My history project partner..." You whined, "I cannot believe Professor Neilson would do that to me, I mean come on I thought I was his star student. Why is he torturing me with Lutz."

"Not my monkey, not my circus." Darcy snorted, "You're on your own here."

"How did you get rid of him, Darcy?" You pleaded.

"I liked him." She sighed.

"Oh... Right..." You let your face fall into your arms, "God I'm never gonna shake him, am I?"

"She's your what?" Allen snorted. 

"My history project partner!" Lutz fist-pumped, "God, I thought Neilson was a hardass but he really hooked me up this time."

"She is kinda bad," Zao smirked, "You gonna... ya know..."

"She said no getting buddy-buddy but, well, you know me," Lutz smirked, Allen and Zao whistling and cheering. "I mean... I dunno, maybe I won't go too far with her..."

"What? Are you going soft on us, buddy?" Allen cackled.

"Hey man, shes not really like other girls ya know, she didn't really fold fast at all. I kinda wanna see where it'll go..."

"'Not like other girls' is wild," Zao snorted, "she's gonna end up like every single one of them did, in your bed. Or mine. Might snatch her up since you're hesitating~."

"I mean it, I kind of... like her. I don't really want to make her into another fling.." Lutz leaned back in his chair, groaning. "God, what am I gonna do..."

Lutz had been studying with you every day this week, and you don't think you've ever seen him this dedicated to the class itself. When he could, he would invite you to his place—goofily kicking aside the stray socks and boxers left strung across the floor by his roommates—but when he couldn't, you would study on campus.

Today, however, it was raining.

Lutz (yuck) 3:42 Y/N lemme just come to your dorm pls my place is busy rn zao is dealiong drugs or smth ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ Y/n3:43 no we can study tomorrow you're not coming in my dorm stay away far away ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ Lutz (yuck) 3:43 P[LEASE ill be on my bestest behavior trust

You gave in eventually.

"-and in retaliation, they..." You glanced up at Lutz, scooting away a bit. "You're this close to sitting on me, dude."

"Sorry, the words are so small, I can't read them..." He slowly grinned, "Hey, maybe you should sit on me, süße-"

"Don't even start, Lutz." You groaned, punching him lightly as he practically giggled beside you.

"It smells great in here, what is that, vanilla?" He sniffed.

"I think my roommate has a candle in the bathroom," You said, "but I think its lavendar so I'm not sure where youre getting vanilla."

He hummed, and though you couldnt see it, he was staring at you as your rattled on about some random history thingy—he wasnt really listening in the first place. Lutz had grown a soft spot to you, much to Allen and Zao's amusement, it had gotten so bad he was turning down girls. Lutz Beilschmidt was turning down girls. He was whipped, but he was too lovesick to be ashamed.

You flipped the page gently, but Lutz reached over and flipped it back. When you looked up at him, his face was hovering inches away from yours and he was practically drowning himself in your eyes.

"I wasn't- I wasn't done reading." His voice came out low, his tone intimate even.

God, what was happening to you?

Charcoal nuzzled into your neck as you leaned back in Lutz's beanbag chair. He pouted at you from his desk chair.

"Charcoal doesn't even do that with me."

"What can I say, he must just like me more." You smirked, sticking your tongue out at Lutz as you rubbed the top of Charcoal's head.

"Maybe you're like his mom." Lutz grinned, "Which since I'm his dad that would mean-"

You threw his dirty socks at him.

Emma and Darcy were supportive of you, even if they did think you were a little stupid for falling for Lutz (though, Emma meant stupid in an endearing, cute way!). However, sometimes you wondered if Darcy was jealous, and sometimes it seemed like she was. When you were talking to Lutz in the hallways, him begging you to come hang out with him with the saddest puppy-dog eyes Darcy had ever seen, her browline creased and her lips downturned. When Lutz was texting you, begging for your attention, Darcy was glaring at your phone screen. When you were complaining about Lutz being a little too comfortable, Darcy was bitterly making comments like "must be hard" and "poor you".

"I was gonna go to a party at Theta Theta this weekend." Darcy said as she scrolled through her phone, "You guys wanna come with?"

"Isn't that Lutz's frat house?" Emma said, bobbypin in mouth as she braided your hair, "Ya know, the guy Y/n is head over heels for?"

"I am not head over heels for Lutz-!"

"I'm not letting that loser stop me from partying," Darcy grinned, giggling, "Plus, it gives little miss Y/n a chance to meet someone new~."

"Oooh!" Emma giggled, "We can find you a man to make Lutz jealous!"

"Guys I cannot believe youre trying to rope me into doing that in his god damn house, are you kidding me?" You griped, "I am not going."

You sipped lightly on a hard lemonade, the blaring music echoing through your ears as you looked through the crowd for any sign of Lutz. 

(Yes, you gave in)

Since arriving, you had lost Darcy in the crowd and hadn't seen a single glimpse of the fluffy blonde hair you were so familiar with. Emma suggested going up to his room, teasing you and saying you might've made him retire from his partying ways. You rolled your eyes, but carefully made your way up the stairs anyway. Immediately, you saw Lutz exiting his room, looking a bit dishevelled but, hey, he's a frat boy. You smiled widely as you went up to greet him.

You never made it to him.

No one other than Darcy, your best friend since before highschool, walked out of his room behind him. Her lipstick was smeared and her hair messy. She barely spared you a glance before wrapping her grimy hands around Lutz's bicep.

"Babe, come back~."

You and Emma drove home in silence. Emma was horrified at the news, you could hear her acrylics tapping away at her phone screen and you could only imagine the shit storm that Darcy was getting. Your own phone was blowing up, actually, and you had to put it on do not disturb to be able to focus on driving at all. The threat of breaking down and crying pricked at your eyes and made your nose feel ticklish, you felt ill, and you stomach wouldn't stop doing backflips.

When Darcy said you lose Lutz by liking him, she wasn't lying.

At the same time as you were fighting a breakdown, Lutz was cussing out a very smug Darcy.

"Holy shit what is wrong with you?" He scolded, "I'm sorry that I didn't like our fling and I'm not in love with you, but you are some kind of evil for doing this to your best friend. Like jesus fucking christ, what are you even getting from this?"

"Come on Lutz, we were better than whatever you had going on with her, she could never-"

"Don't even finish that thought." He spat, "Get out of my god damn house."

You were awoken from your sleep by pitiful, desperate pleas at your door. You heard the frantic knocking, the begging and crying and whining, and you knew who was behind it. You rubbed your eyes, still puffy from crying yourself to sleep, and checked your notifications.

Lutz <32:13 A.M. please its not what it looks like i know thats like a stupid overused excuse but its not an excuse darcy told me she wanted to talk to me about something she set it all up please i dont want anyone else

Lutz <3 2:43 A.M. please respond pick up my calls i swear to god Y/n i promise nothing was going on i'm not like that  i swear

You snorted at his texts, he was saying every excuse, using every cliché line that people use when they get caught.

"Y/n I know you're in there I just want to talk I swear nothing was happening," As you walked closer to your door you heard Lutz bang his head against the other side, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please just let me explain."

When you opened the door he stumbled in, his face painted in shock and sadness and relief all at once, and the moment he laid eyes on your pitiful expression he looked like the wind had just been taken out of him. He tried to place his hands on the sides of your face to wipe your tears, but you gently pushed his hands away by the wrists and stepped back.

"Y/n..."

"You have 10 minutes to explain." You sniffled. "And then I'm kicking you out for being a dirty, lying, unfaithful asshat!"

"No! No, nonono, I wasn't unfaithful nothing ever happened I swear. On my life, my brothers life, my mother, father, cat, on everything important to me I swear to you that nothing happened between me and Darcy." He pleaded, "When you guys got to the party I was just hanging out in my room, watching videos, you know how it is. Darcy had knocked on my door and I- I went to open it and she just walked in like she owned the place. It was gross she was acting like we're super close and she was all flirty and it-

"Either way, she was trying to be all handsy and I had pushed her off and stepped out and that when you came up the stairs. She just came out after me and I knew it looked so bad and I didn't know what to say and-"

Were his eyes glossing over?

"Look, look at my texts with her and- and you can see that there really isnt anything going on and I swear you're the only person I want. I don't even have her number saved in my phone, Y/n, she's nothing to me."

You snatched his phone, scrolling through countless texts of Lutz being so irreversibly angry and distraught while Darcy simply defended her actions. You checked her number, it was really Darcy, and you felt fat tears roll down your cheeks.

"Oh my god you're telling the truth." You sobbed as you launched forwards into his chest.

He smelled a little woody and his shirt still smelled like laundry detergent and yeah there was an underlying hint of alcohol but it wasn't nearly as strong as it was the day you became his project partner. You melted into him as he rubbed his (rather large) hands over your back, calloused fingers wrapping around your arm as he brought you closer and closer to him and if it weren't literally impossible you thought you might have ended up merging with him. He kissed the crown of your head, muttering words of reassurance and affection. 

Lifting your head up, he wiped the tears away from your face and brushed your hair behind your ears. He gently caressed your cheeks, letting his fingers dance over every detail of your cheek and jaw before shakily bringing himself closer and closer to you until his lips met yours and you melted into each other with so much passion and affection you thought you might drown

"I think I'm in love with you."

✧ navigation.

[kissorkill15]

No One Cared: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: Mr. Peterson trying to convince Nicky he has no other options.

P.S., thank you @loszeged for inspiring me.

Nicky was curled in on himself, lying on his bed. When he heard the door open. He didn't need to look up to see who it was.

"Nicholas, get up. I have something to show you."

Nicky didn't want to, but he didn't want to know what would happen if he didn't listen to his kidnapper, so he got up and followed Mr. Peterson wherever he was taking him.

Mr. Peterson took him to a large room in the basement, and what Nicky saw nearly made him barf. It was like a carnival. All around, there were rollercoasters, flying swings, concession stands, it was a whole ass fair ground.

There was also a Ferris wheel, almost three stories high. And a carousel, all colorful and shiny.

"Oh my fucking god.", Nicky mumbled under his breath, so Mr. Peterson didn't have to hear him swear.

The old man put his gloved hands on the boy's shoulders. "Do you like it? I built it. It's for you and Aaron. It's all for you my boy."

Nicky pushed the man away from him.

"Don't touch me you psychopath!", he yelled.

Mr. Peterson looked at the young man with a disapproving look. "Nicholas, you watch your tongue. I've been doing nothing but trying to accommodate you, and you're being a brat."

"If by being a brat, you mean trying to stay sane while you're keeping me and your son captive, then yes.", Nicky sassed at him.

Mr. Peterson didn't say anything, he just stared at him. Then he got down on one knee, his face both condescending and sympathetic. "At least I'm doing better than your parents and your friends."

Nicky balled his hands into fists, "You shut up! Don't bring any of them into this! They have nothing to do with this conversation!"

"They have everything to do with this conversation, Nicholas. They left you when you needed them most, meanwhile, I've been so kind to you."

"Kind? Kind?!", Nicky asked, incredulous. "If you were any type of kind, you wouldn't be locking me or Aaron in here. You're not kind, you're not any better than my friends or family."

Mr. Peterson put a hand on Nicky's chin, tilting his head to the underground amusement park he created for him. "But look at what I made for you and Aaron. Aren't you grateful? Did your parents ever give you any of this?"

Nicky's eyes traveled down to the floor, "No. No they didn't. But not because they didn't care! They just weren't...well...you."

"Sure.", said Mr. Peterson. "What about your little misfit friends? I know they don't care about you, young man. If they really cared, they would've listened to you more."

Nicky tried so hard to blink back the tears in his eyes. He knew Mr. Peterson was right, but he wasn't going to give in so easily. "Stop trying to gaslight me, you psychopath."

"Gaslight? I'm gaslighting you by telling you the truth?"

Mr. Peterson kept a firm grip on Nicky's hands, so he couldn't wipe away the tears. He knew he was getting through the little boy, and he wanted to see him crumble before him.

"If they really cared, Enzo wouldn't have made fun of your loneliness. If they really cared, Trinity wouldn't have stolen your only sponsor. If they really cared, Maritza wouldn't have accused you of something you didn't do. If they really cared,...", Mr. Peterson loosened his grip on Nicky's hands. "They wouldn't have abandoned you."

Nicky could feel the tears running down his cheeks.

"Your parents never cared for you either, they just made it seem like they did so they wouldn't have to confront the fact they were doing a terrible job at parenting. No one cares for you, Nicky, no one except me and Aaron. I know you hate being alone, being abandoned, just accept the truth."

Nicky didn't want to cry, but he couldn't help the tears flowing down his eyes, making their way down his cheeks. He looked down, trying to hide his tear-stained face, and Mr. Peterson pulled him close, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"Shh, it's alright.", the old man soothed the little boy.

"They don't care. They don't care about me.", Nicky cried into his captors chest.

"It's alright, Nicholas. You have me now, and I would never abandon you."

Theodore Masters Peterson did a successful job, convincing Nicky that no one cared about him, that he was all alone with no one except him and Aaron.

Meanwhile, Nicky's face was everywhere on the streets and trees of Raven Brooks, on a missing poster.

[kaylinlmao]

can you do this bit for robin or vance (would make sense for it to be one of the fighters)

reader & *chosen boy* were enemies but when *chosen boy* is declared dead after two weeks of missing, reader has a whole break down

*chosen boy* shows up (in true ghost fashion) and says “i thought you hated me, *ur choice of nickname*?”

honestly a stolen idea loll. i got it from book0bsessedd on tiktok

Doing Robin because there is already so many fricking fics for Vance. Both are 18+

Btw, loving this picture.

"We're sorry to tell you this, but Robin Arellano has been pronounced dead as of today." I stood shocked as the principal continued to speak. What? He's dead? Just then the bell rang, signaling the end of school. I ran outside towards my house, my vision blurry with tears. Dead? Dead? No! He can't be dead! I didn't get to tell him that I love him yet. I wanted the banter to go on longer. I wanted to take my time! He can't be dead. He's only 18.

I ran up the front steps and unlocked the door. My mom wasn't home and neither was my brother, Austin. I was alone. Again. I went into my room, closing and locking the door. I dropped my backpack and began to break down. I couldn't see, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think anything but he's dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. And he's not coming back.

"He's dead. He can't be dead. He's not dead. They're lying!" I was on the floor shaking when I heard his voice.

"I thought you hated me, princesa." I spun around and saw him standing by the door, with a stupid smirk on his face. I stood up, wiping my tears. "I do hate you." I said. "That didn't look like hate. It actually looked a lot like love." "It's not-" "I love you too, hermosa. I have for a while now." He broke in, cutting me off.

"Aren't you dead?" I asked. "Yup." He said, popping the p. "Then why the hell are you in my room? How did you get in my room." "We can go through walls y'know." "Oh Jesus. Robin, you're dead. So I'm seeing dead people. Am I crazy? Are you really here?" "Yes you're crazy and yes, I'm really here." I scoffed. "I am not crazy!" "Mhmm" he responded. "I'M NOT CRAZY!" I yelled. "princesa, chill out. You're not crazy. I'm really here."

"Then why'd they say you were dead?" I questioned. "Because I am." "What? You said you were really here." "I am." "But you're a ghost?" "No." "What? Oh my god, spit it out!" I said. "I'm not a ghost. I'm a man." I scoffed. "I'm a man, and I'm here but nobody else can see me." He continued. "So I am seeing dead people." "No. You're seeing a dead person. Singular." I groaned. "When are you leaving? When does the train to hell stop by?" I asked.

"I'm never leaving. We're in love." "I'm not dating a ghost!"

"But I love you!" "No! Not dating a ghost. My mom will think I'm crazy." "Please?" "Fine. We're girlfriend and boyfriend." I counted to 10 in my mind. "Hey Rob, I'm sorry but this isn't working out. I'm breaking up with you." "Y/N!" "yes?" "Just try? We can be together. Forever." "Oh hell nah! What if I want kids one day?" "I'm working on coming back to life right now." "Working with who?" "The grim reaper." "I'm done. I'm out. Nope. Nada. Donezo." I said, walking away.

"I love you, Y/N Y/L/N." "Love you too, dead boy."

Hope you like it! If I write a book based off of the story fight mixed with the story where she can heal people but has to feel the pain herself on wattpad, would y'all go read it? Love y'all! :) -Kaylin

[themultifandomgal]

Antonio- Meeting Him

I arrive at Mollys to meet my brothers Jay and Will, same dad different moms. I haven't long moved to Chicago to be with my brothers after my mom passed away recently.

Seeing my brothers sat a table, I approach now noticing a few other people

"Here she is. Severide, Dawson this is YN" Will says standing up and giving me a hug

"Hey" I greet him and Jay who also give me a hug. I look at the other two guys "hi it's nice to meet you"

"Like wise, Jay and Will have told us a lot about you. Kelly Severide" Kelly stands up and shakes my hand

"Antonio Dawson" Antonio also shakes my hand. I sit in between my brothers. Jay nudges a glass of coke towards me

"Thanks"

"Jay told us your a teacher. What year?" Antonio asks

"Kindergarten so age 5"

"30 5 year olds in one room, no thank you" Kelly shudders at the thought

"They're not that bad. It's the parents you have to watch" I chuckle "so do either of you have kids?"

"No" Kelly shakes his head

"I've got two. Boy and girl. Have you?"

"No. Never found the right guy I guess"

"I'll drink to that one" Jay mutters lifting up his drink to take a sip

"Hey my relationships haven't been that bad" I nudge Jay

"Errr yeah they have. There was Jake-the deadbeat, then Alfie- the drug dealer..."

"Woah ok I didn't know and as soon as I found out I broke it off. Anyway we weren't that serious" I shrug

"Don't forgot Dan. God he was the worst" Will says "you know, she rang me in anger because Dan stole her money. Had to ring Jay"

"Ahh so you were the stolen purse case Jay left us a week for"

"Guilty" I give Antonio a smile "fine ok my relationships have sucked, that's why I'm having a new start here and not dating for a long ass time"

"Yeah yeah, your like your brother there" Will nods towards Jay "you see a hot guy and you can't keep away. Like a moth to a flame"

"She just needs the right guy to tame her" Kelly says

"Don't even think about it" Jay points at his friend. I roll my eyes at my brother being over protective.

The hours tick by and before I know it, it's now Saturday morning and I have had far too much to drink

"I'm gonna have to call a taxi. Will Christopher be ok with me leaving my car here?" I ask standing up on wobbling legs

"He'll be fine about it. Would rather you get home safely" Kelly shrugs

"Well thank you for the drinks, but I'm super tired"

"Don't worry about it"

"Let me give you a lift home. I've not drank" Antonio offers

"No it's ok, don't worry..."

"I insist. I know your brothers would feel happier knowing that you got home safely by an officer than worry about you in a taxi on your own"

"Ok. Thank you" I give into Antonio.

Slipping into Antonio's car I rest my head on the window, tiredness starting to win the battle to try and stay awake

"Your seats are comfy" I mutter. I hear Antonio chuckle next to me "will your wife mind that your dropping me off?"

"No wife. Divorced"

"Oh. I'm sorry I didn't mean..."

"It's ok, well now it is. For a while I wasn't allowed to see my kids. Things have gotten better"

"I'm glad things are better. I've worked with some parents who don't get along and it puts a strain of the kids. Sometimes it just takes time for divorced parents to figure out how to work" I realise I've probably been talking out of place so I apologise to which Antonio tells me not to be silly. We arrive outside my tiny house, I turn to look at Antonio and smile "thank you for the lift"

"Don't worry about it. I'll get someone to drop your car off for you tomorrow"

"Jays on my insurance, ask him"

"Ok. Goodnight YN"

"Goodnight Antonio" I exit the car and walk to my front door, noticing that Antonio hasn't left yet. Once I find my house keys and open the door I turn around to give him a wave. I lock the door behind me and that's only when Antonio leaves I assume making sure I'm safe.

[noturlondonboy]

No More Excuses//Katelena

Chapter 8: Ice Skates Never Broke Any Heart

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova

Chapter Summary: The cuties go ice skating.

A/N: I just adore them I can’t even begin to explain how much these two traumatized kick-ass goofballs mean to me

Chapter Warnings: NA

The ice-skating rink in central park is mysteriously low on people, especially considering that it was still cold enough for the winter activity and most kids would have gotten out of school an hour or so ago. But when Kate and Yelena arrived, bundled in their long coats and breaths fogging in front of red, smiling faces, only a few parents with little ones and a small group of teenagers were on the ice.

Kate excitedly led Yelena over to the ice skates rental, relaying their shoe sizes to the girl behind the counter and paying before Yelena could even blink. Kate accepted the skates with a happy thank you, and dragged her friend to a bench to properly strap themselves in.

"Kate Bishop, why do you know my shoe size?" Yelena asked with a laugh, taking the skates and pulling off her platforms. She paused as she put them on. "These blades are excellent quality." She looked up to Kate, grinning almost mischievously. "Very sharp. They would gut a man quite nicely."

Kate blinked at her for a second before letting out a loud, disbelieving laugh and pressing forward to put her gloved hands against Yelena's smiling mouth. "Oh my god, Yelena! You can't just say stuff like that out loud!”

The blonde giggled heartily and continued to tie the laces of her skates. "Hurry up, Kate Bishopppppp, I'm going to beat you. Also, again, why do you know how big my feet are?" Her eyes turn suddenly serious, and she somehow seems to tower over the archer as she sits up straight and leans towards her. "Don't tell me you have a thing for toes."

Kate is so taken aback that before she even has time to be a little mortified at what Yelena is insinuating, the blonde's facade has already dissolved into a fit of self-righteous giggles. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

Kate would never have guessed in a million years that this was a side to Yelena that existed, much less that she would get to personally see it. She recalls a few listened in on conversations and brief explanations of Yelena and Natasha's past, but the biggest thing that stuck out to her was that Yelena was filtered into the Red Room at the tender age of six. The woman beside her had been stolen away from her childhood and mercilessly beaten down before being built right back up, stronger and smarter and faster, and so angry and deadly it was a wonder the world wasn't burning in hell.

It was a wonder that Yelena could be like this at all, truthfully. A miracle.

"You're staring."

Kate blinks, and Yelena's right. She was totally staring. The blonde just laughs and stands, so steady and sure in the skates that Kate doubts for a moment they're even on.

"I'm super bad at this, remember," Kate reminded her, bracing her hands on the bench railing and slowly standing onto her now weaponized feet. Yelena watched with amusement, but her face wasn't cruel, and she looked ready to leap forward should Kate inevitably fall.

Which she did. Of course.

And, as predicted, Yelena was there.

She grabbed Kate's wrist the moment she wobbled just a bit too much, and Yelena's stance is strong to keep them both from falling. She tugs Kate up and therefore close, their chests almost touching, breaths fogging together. Kate's cheeks are flushed from the cold and the exhilaration of being out here with the woman in front of her.

"Thanks."

Yelena gives another smile, something she seems to be handing out to Kate in droves. "I'll catch you, Kate Bishop." She keeps their hands twined together and gently tugs the both of them towards the entrance onto the ice, and Kate is transfixed by the little snow crystals on the blonde's lashes.

Kate had not been ice-skating since before her father died in the Battle for New York. She had enjoyed it at the time, but the memories stung and she lost any muscle memory she might have built up with him there to help her. She stops right before stepping out onto the slippery rink, eyeing it warily. The doubts were creeping in. She most likely would fall and crack her head open and make a fool of herself, in highly typical Kate fashion.

Yelena noticed her hesitation, and wordlessly held her hand out for her, palm up and inviting.

Kate took it, and was pulled carefully out onto the ice.

Her balance was spotty at best, but Yelena held true and guided Kate to a walker on skates of its own, where the archer latched on gratefully. Yelena smiled and led the two of them out further into the middle of the ice, moving fluidly and swiftly to the point that Kate couldn't decide if she was impressed or envious of the ease the assassin displayed.

The assassin traveled further away, taking the space to glide freely, letting her mind quiet as she sank into the smooth motion of flying over the ice. Kate watched her, entranced as she mindlessly followed in her silly bright red skate walker.

Kate gave herself about twenty minutes to get used to the feeling of ice underneath her with the walker before she let go of it slowly, carefully pushing away from it in a wobbly line. Yelena was by her side immediately, arm extended to give Kate the choice to hold on should she choose to do so.

Kate smiled softly at her, cheeks glowing from the cold as she accepted it and linked her elbow with Yelena's. They went slowly around the rink, the gentle circles lulling Kate into a feeling of security. A thin layer of snow began to fall, and they giggled together, admiring the delicate flakes.

"Want to try by yourself, Kate Bishop?" Yelena asked after a time, her smile encouraging and instilling confidence deep into Kate's soul, who nodded and let go of her friend, the momentum carrying her a bit forward.

For a couple of small moments, the archer stays steady and glides forward, her heart buoying in her chest. Her father would clap and cheer for her if he was here, dark hair wild and grizzled cheeks full with a smile. A laugh bubbles up from her stomach, light and fluffy.

But as soon as Kate thinks she might be safe, it shatters when her foot slips out from under her, and she immediately accepts that she is about to eat shit as she plummets backwards.

Except she doesn't.

"Oh, Kate Bishop, you are so hopeless," Yelena's voice groans into her ear, the assassin's body warm against her back as strong arms and gentle hands cradle the head that had been about to crack against the ice. Kate blinks up at her, looking startled and dazed. Yelena's laugh is soft, and her gloved fingertips trace over the archer's cheek, pulling strands of wavy hair out of her face. "Are you okay, Kate?"

"You're a bit upside down," Kate mutters, chest aching and out of breath. From the fall, she tells herself. From the impact on her back.

At Kate's words, something in Yelena's eyes seems to shift, akin to a pain so deep and old that Kate could drown if she even so much as touched it, but it quickly melted into a mesmerizing fondness she didn't recognize.

"I told you I would catch you, Kate Bishop."

She is breathless because the air was knocked out of her lungs. She is breathless because Yelena is beautiful and kind when she has every right to be hateful.

She is breathless because her friend was about to get hurt. She is breathless because Kate Bishop looks at her like she's worth redeeming. She is breathless because Kate Bishop looks at her the way Natasha did. She is breathless because Kate looks at her and does not seem to want to look away.

They are both breathless out on the ice in the middle of New York, and the cold does not reach them at all.

Translations: none

Kate Bishop counter: 8

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