#damn it hurt

[artinartifact]

Turns out that hand did not want a high five

[amimiamimiamimi]

I hurt my middle finger! It hurt!

[bixels]

Just gonna have to wait and see, right? Just wait and see! Just gotta wait and see! Who knows, we'll just have to wait and see! It's anybody's guess, we'll just have to wait and see! The future is exciting, we just gotta wait and see!

[shotmrmiller]

asking simon if he can rub your back because it aches from being hunched over a desk all day and he does... for about 30 seconds before moving down to the back of your thighs, thumbs digging into the soft flesh. your protest dies on your lips when his hands move up, kneading your arse, giving it a squeeze hard enough to pull a hiss from you.

useless man. he makes your backache worse with the spine-jarring thrusts he gives you (and with the way he loops an arm around your neck, forcing you to arch your back as he pulls you to him when he snaps his hips forward.)

[lazylittledragon]

not to toot my own horn too loud or anything but i've showered 5/6 days so far this week and started running again and now i can kill god

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

[ ID in ALT ]

he giggles

[correct-hermitcraft-quotes]

Pearl: Everyone just sticks [the sword] in my brain further, I'm losing braincells.

Cleo: I mean, is it hitting your brain? It feels like there's a lot of room in there.

*a pause, as Pearl processes this, then walks away with her head hung*

Xisuma: Wow. That was vicious.

Cleo, distantly: Happy birthday!

[loveinhawkins]

Steve’s bat bites start to bleed again during the drive out of The War Zone.

It’s a slow realisation, a creeping dampness on his skin.

He stays as still as he can, keeps his movements small and contained when turning the steering wheel; he thinks he mostly gets away with it, manages to park the RV and pitch his voice on just the right side of normal as he tells the kids to scram.

Awareness of his surroundings grows a little fuzzy around the edges, but he senses enough to know that he’s alone—the silence feels heavy, makes his ears ring.

He lifts himself up out of his seat, one hand clinging onto the headrest for balance. The ringing gets sharper, more high-pitched; he shakes his head to try and clear it.

One step forward, then another, and another.

There’s a slight rocking motion under his feet. It feels a little like he’s in a boat that’s docked, constant movement even in the gentlest of waters.

His palms brush against the bathroom door.

“Okay,” Steve whispers to himself.

He hangs onto the sink to keep himself upright—feels the room sway, as if the waters underneath have suddenly become stormy.

With one hand, he finds the knot in the bandage.

“Okay, okay…”

Pulls.

Steve doesn’t think he blacks out, not quite, but there’s a shift, a dizzying tilt… and then, somehow, he’s sitting on the closed toilet seat.

And…

The bat bites must cause hallucinations or something.

Otherwise, Steve cannot explain why Eddie—who notoriously threw up and passed out during a dissection in Biology—is currently pressing a clean bandage against his stomach, staring down at the blood like he can’t look away.

“You’re good, you’re good,” Eddie’s saying.

He’s clearly trying to sound calm, but it’s just coming out strained, like what he really means is this is all a fucking nightmare actually, but we’ve gotta find something to be optimistic about.

“Think it just needs some more pressure,” he goes on. “Yeah, there, see? It’s stopping. Oh, thank God.”

Steve feels more gauze getting wrapped around his middle—if he wasn’t injured, it’d almost be a nice sensation, Eddie’s touch somehow the perfect mix of both firm and gentle.

As he works, Eddie hums nervously.

“Talk to me Harrington,” he says in a shaky sing-song. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging, man, gimme some awkward small talk. Got any hopes? Dreams? Anything I should know?

Oh, so many things, Steve thinks, still light-headed.

But then he really does mull that over: his mind goes to The Upside Down, to belatedly telling Eddie about the hive mind, and oh shit.

“Hey, weird question,” Steve says, “but I’ve not been, like, asking you to make it cold in here or, um, anything like that?”

Eddie blinks. “Uh. No?”

“Okay.” Before he lets the relief of hearing Eddie’s answer sink in, Steve adds, “If I ever do, you need to lock me in here and get out. Tell Nancy.”

Eddie’s staring at him like he’s grown a second head. “Sure. Cool. Cool! Uh, for any particular reason or—?”

“Just in case—like, I don’t feel any different, but—one time, Will Byers, when he was in The Upside Down it, like, infected him? Like a virus. Except more… possession. And they had to kinda… burn it outta him.”

“Ha,” Eddie says. A beat. “Oh fuck, you’re serious.”

“I really don’t have the energy to be messing with you, dude.”

“Sorry. Sometimes you all just say things, y’know? And if I don’t get it, I’m like, well, they’ve been living through this for a while, maybe they’ve got a code going on.”

“I mean,” Steve says, “we kinda do.”

Eddie shakes his head. “So when Buckley said she dealt with a human-flesh-based monster, and the one before that was smoke-related, that wasn’t just, like, a really fucked up metaphor?” Eddie’s eyes are wide, pleading. “Please say it was a metaphor.”

“Sorry,” Steve says sincerely.

Eddie sighs through a lacklustre chuckle. “You’re fine, Steve. As for, uh, being possessed, I don’t think so. You’re no weirder than usual, but—”

“Wow, thanks. Means such a lot coming from you.”

“—you were a bit, like, out of it for a few seconds, but it just looked like you were gonna faint on me. Um. How’re you feeling now?”

“Good,” Steve says. When Eddie raises an eyebrow, he tacks on, “As good as I can be, I guess. Still.” He groans slightly as he stands, goes back over to the sink. “Better check.”

“Check? What?”

Steve runs the water as hot as it will possibly go, until the steam is evident. He sticks his hand right into the stream, hears Eddie hiss as the water scalds his skin.

“Okay, yup. Not possessed.”

“Fucking fantastic. Now I want it cold,” Eddie says.

He takes control of the faucet, nods for Steve to put his hand under the now cold water.

After a minute or two, Eddie sighs and collapses onto the toilet seat himself.

There’s a squeak as Steve turns the faucet off—his skin’s probably not had the good of the cold water for nearly long enough, but it’ll do.

Eddie’s tipped his head back so he’s facing the ceiling, eyes closed. Steve watches him with sympathy; he really must hate blood.

“Eddie. You can go.”

“Mm, nope,” Eddie says without opening his eyes. “I’m fine right here.”

“Suit yourself.”

Steve turns back to the sink, frowns at the tiny mirror above it; there’s black spots on the glass, but he can make out enough. Christ, the bags under his eyes are horrific.

“Relax, Casanova,” Eddie says, almost as if he’s heard Steve’s thoughts. “You look good.”

“Uh-huh. Think your brain’s fried from being on the run.”

Steve leans against the sink with one hip, finds Eddie looking at him with a small smile.

“Yeah, probably. Or maybe being on the run just suits you.” Eddie’s eyes flicker down. His smile falters. “You know, in an ideal world,” he says conversationally, “you’d be in a hospital getting stitches.”

Steve scoffs. “In an ideal world, I’d be in bed sleeping.”

“Amen to that,” Eddie says lightly. But he still looks sombre. “Seriously, though. If it gets… you know. I’d drive you.”

“To the hospital? What are you gonna do, Eddie, wander up to the front desk? Sounds like a real interesting way to get arrested.”

But Eddie doesn’t leap at the chance to make a joke.

“Steve,” he says softly. “I mean it. I wouldn’t care.”

“That would sorta ruin the whole priority of hiding you.”

“That’s—” Eddie huffs. “That’s not the priority.”

“Huh, that’s funny, cause it is in my book.” Steve nods at the door, to his whole world just outside. “One of many.”

Eddie’s eyes narrow. “And your name better be right at the top, Harrington.”

Steve hums.

“In bold. Underlined.”

“Whatever you say.”

Eddie groans quietly, runs a hand down his face. “You worry me, man.”

“I’m not trying to.”

“I know. Just…” Eddie hesitates. “Don’t go off alone. You know?”

Steve thinks it over. He steps forward and offers Eddie his hand.

Eddie takes it.

When Steve pulls him up, he stumbles a little, as if he feels like he’s on a boat, too.

“Oops, sorry.” He grabs onto Steve’s forearm for balance. “Think this should be the other way round, man.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so.”

Steve leads the way out of the bathroom—doesn’t mention the fact that, really, they’re both holding each other up.

There’s a bottle of water left in the back. Steve twists the cap off. Drinks.

“You too,” he tells Eddie.

“Huh?”

Steve considers him—thinks of the little flare of panic he felt when watching Eddie walk through the woods, tiptoeing around vines. How he had a sudden instinct to catch up to him, to make sure he wasn’t alone.

“I’m making a deal,” Steve says. “I won’t go off alone if you don’t.”

He lifts the bottle up as if making a toast—drinks again then passes it over to Eddie.

For the slightest of moments, their fingers brush; Eddie’s rings skim over Steve’s knuckles.

“So what’s this?” Eddie asks. “Legally binding magical water?”

Steve shrugs. “Cool metaphor,” he replies.

You say you just turn heel and run, Eddie. But sometimes I think if there was a fire, you’d run towards the flames if it meant no-one else got hurt.

Eddie smiles. Tilts the bottle towards Steve.

“Guess it’s a promise, then,” he says.

He drinks.

Steve prays that it holds.

[arcanegifs]

Arcane: Season 2 | Official Teaser | Netflix ↳ "You're a class act sister… Sister, thought I missed her, bet you wouldn't miss her"

[satans-knitwear]

What if i told u..... Tiddies. 🤔

Treat me ~ Tip Me ~ More of me

[teabutmakeitazure]

all it takes is one complaint of being tired for Childe to wordlessly scoop you up into his arms bridal style and continue walking like nothing is wrong. no he does not see the odd stares of people passing by and no he does not care if you ask him to put you down. you are tired and he is now your taxi

[deoidesign]

Thinking about vampires, death, life, and the space they occupy in between

[naamahdarling]

They have gone to the vet for their booster shots and I feel like a monster. But I'm a monster who likes them rather a lot so they need to go and get safe.

The lady at the front desk had not seen them before and had been WAITING for them to come in after having been TEXTED PICTURES by the other nurses last time and was very excited to meet them.

They have only been there once and they are already popular.

[soldrawss]

A little summer rain excursion to the corner store with the Noceda kiddos.

[celesterayel]

goodbyes & waiting | luke castellan

pairing : luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

request: happy holidays! could you write a luke x aphrodite reader? (maybe with angst?) <3

IN WHICH — there are the moments you shared and the sadness that came after.

"trust that you betrayed, confusing that still lingers. you took everything I loved and crushed it in between your fingers" - o.r.

w.c. 1k

warning(s) : lots and lots of angst ゜✭・.

✩ ‧₊˚ author's note this act hurt me so much in the feelings. I've never written something so angst, hope you enjoy it tho, love :)

your heart didn’t hurt, it burned.

you wished you could tear the wretched thing out and never feel anything again but it remained there, silently killing you from the inside out. in your palm lay a small pendant, not the prettiest thing by any means and resembling more like something you’d find at a second-hand store. the chain was thin and dull but at the center lay a small heart of twine and charms. your finger brushed over it, as if attempting to soothe your own heart, a manifestation of your pain literally.

god, you wanted to burn it to the ground. you wanted to scream so loudly and raw that you’d scream your vocal cords out of your throat. you wanted to scream at the gods–fuck them and fuck the fates–and most of all, at him.

had it meant nothing to him? this…whatever it was between you two? how could he have left you so brutally? without a second thought.

the pendant burned in your hand but you’d sooner kill yourself than part with it. it was the last thing you had of luke castellan. the boy who had loved you at your lowest, who once would have rather burned the world than let it hurt you. but he had hurt you and with the blow of godliness that ran in his blood.

you never did see it coming.

✩ ‧₊˚

you had first arrived at camp a year before percy jackson appeared. no sooner than you did, were you claimed by your mother, the goddess aphrodite. and unlike how the poets and half bloods describe it, children of aphrodite were not all inherently blessed with grand beauty. rather you were made to be beautiful in the way extraordinary things are: ingrained into the brain like a itch in a way so profound.

something about you entranced others, maybe the way you spoke or how you approached everyone like they were someone you had known since forever, you were just always a shining light for others to flock too. something so incredibly enchanting, gentle like the breeze of the camp waters. 

luke was the first person to approach you after being claimed, the same boyish smile you’d later fall in love with on his face. 

“the names luke castellan. yours?” he breathed out, something about the way he looked at you like you were every enchanting thing in the form of a person made your heart sing. 

you knew that your heart would belong to him every moment after. 

something in the way he looked at you like you were his forever after made you feel complete. like you weren’t so alone in this world made of monsters and man, godless beings of hunger and pain. and it seemed like he knew it too because there was a knowing in his eyes, a connection between you too that would hurt for every lifetime and the next. 

you and luke only grew closer after and where you went he followed. where he strayed, you wandered. secrets moments shared beneath candlelights with his hands on your waist and yours bunched in his hair. 

“your my forever, you know that right?” he’d whisper against your lips, trying to breathe you in like you’d disappear from his arms. 

you’d just kiss him harder like his words could burn themselves to your lips. like he could burn himself into your very being and never leave you. one day you’d tell him he’d already had.

moments by the lakes where he’d hold you against him and you’d rest on his shoulder like it was the only place you’d ever need. trinkets you’d find when you’d go exploring with the littlest campers that you gifted to him and he kept like they were the grandest of treasures. times when he’d cry into your shoulder and you’d just hold him all the more closer like you could take the pain. the pendant he had spent months and late nights learning to craft from hand to give you. you planned out your future together late, late into the night when you couldn’t sleep: maybe someday he’d whisk you away to visit paris or to see the great big apple–only later you’d go without him. 

holding you so tightly, he’d ask, “where would you want to go if we ever leave here?”

“anywhere you go.” the late nights near the lakes always made it seem like your cocoon, a safe haven from everything else. nights like these only made you fall in love with him more. 

“yes, but if you could pick anywhere, where would you want me to take you, “ he huffed out, chuckling. 

you grab his hands and press a kiss to his lips, tasting freedom and fire all in one breath. kissing luke was always electric, every want and lightning burn in one breath, one touch. 

you leaned back, before contemplatingly saying, “i’ve always wanted to go to see the city lights in the big apple.”

“i’ll take you one day.” it was a promise. a future for you both. 

“i’ll hold you to that.”

✩ ‧₊˚

but it never did happen.

✩ ‧₊˚

you remember the scream you felt bottled in your throat when you found out what had happened. the looks the others had given you when percy told you what luke had done. why he wasn't here with you guys. why he wasn’t here with you.

the betrayal hurt more than anything you had ever felt. parts of the pieces of the future you had made crumbling as quickly as you both had made it. the trinkets you had given him were gone just as he was.

as the months passed, here you stayed as the others left. hoping that by some miracle, your golden boy would return to you. that'd he'd come back ready to make good on his promise. he’d return to the lake where you had once built your future but he never did and the scream in your throat never left.

you promised me, luke.

footsteps approached you and there at the bottom of the hermes cabin stood percy jackson, “y/n, it’s time to go.” 

he looked at the pendant in your hands before giving you a sad smile. he knew your history and your pain–once upon a time, luke had been his first real friend.

you wiped the tears that had fallen down your cheeks and slipped the necklace back onto your neck. you couldn’t bear to part with it, not even after all this time, after all these moments. 

you looked behind you to the cabin one last time—breathing in the old memories and letting them go one last time—before you turned back around. 

“let’s go.” 

in the end, your golden boy had been far too much like his father and you were the one to be left waiting.

[portalmonsterrr]

Don't get attached