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#like they’re both very private but. bad at it?
sickgraymeat · 1 year
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she should have just let him say fuck
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llumimoon · 1 year
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Wait no continuing from my tags on my previous reblog, Veronica and her relationship with Scary I think explains a lot of why Scary has such a bad grasp on her emotions.
Like Veronica doesn’t seem like a very emotionally open person to begin with, in addition to the fact that she was a single mom lawyer who wouldn’t have the time to spend with Scary if she wanted to keep a roof over their heads.
Scary mostly grew up with a single parent who worked a job with very long hours. She probably didn’t get to have those emotional talks with her mom when something was bothering her, maybe bc if it wasn’t big enough than she couldn’t justify talking to her busy mom about it, or maybe Veronica just didn’t pick up on it. That’s just a natural part of being a single parent, you miss things, and sometimes those are important things, even if you try your best and you love your kid.
It could also in part play into Scary’s want for attention? Like that’s naturally a very teenage want, but like add on the fact that her mom is generally a very busy woman and her limited free time is suddenly being taken up by this loser cringe guy that she started dating instead of spending time with her cool daughter.
Like I think this is all SO interesting when contrasted with Taylor’s relationship with Cassandra. Cass is very very rich. In all honesty, she doesn’t really NEED to work. She can easily take time to spend with her kid, and I think it really shows in how close she and Taylor are.
Just, comparing the two teens and their relationship with their single parent moms in relation to their jobs and their class is just very interesting to me
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inkoutsidethelines · 1 year
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Thinking about how I would write an adult Scooby-Doo series, because I think it can be done.
The first thing I’d do is make the characters actually be adults.  Still young, but adults, in the mid to late 20s range.  Mystery Inc. is a private detective type business that they run together.  In this universe, the supernatural/ghosts/etc are real, but not necessarily common, so when they take on a case, the culprit might be a person disguised as a monster, or it might actually be a real ghost.  The stakes can be higher; sometimes a bad guy is legitimately trying to kill them.  Sometimes the mystery they’re trying to solve is a murder.  Sometimes they actually get hurt on their cases.
Fred: the core of Fred’s character should be that he’s incredibly kind.  Like, give a stranger the shirt off his back kind.  The “Fred can’t talk to potential clients because he might take a case for free and we need to eat” kind.  He’s an honest and good person and sometimes gets himself into trouble because he assumes other people are too.  While he’s not very good at reading people or noticing ulterior motives, he’s brilliant when it comes to mechanical or engineering type stuff, so he’s the one who keeps the mystery machine running, builds their gadgets, and of course, designs the traps.
Daphne: she comes from old money, and her parents absolutely despise her life choices, to the point where they haven’t officially disowned her, but they have basically cut her off, so she doesn’t actually have access to any family money.  Growing up wealthy has granted her a variety of skills, including speaking multiple languages, horseback riding, and fencing.  She’s very into fashion and jewelry (even if she can’t afford it anymore) and has extensive knowledge of both that can occasionally provide a vital clue in a case. And even though her parents have cut her off, Daphne still has a wide network of contacts she can ask for favors sometimes, because she’s personable, and people tend to like her.  Daphne is also very emotionally intelligent, and is usually the one who can spot when someone is lying to them.
Side note - I ship Fred and Daphne, so I think I would start them off as an established couple for this universe.  Dating, engaged, married, I don’t care.  They are stupidly in love, ride or die for each other.  There’s no will they, won’t they, no worries about cheating.  They are in a healthy, happy, loving relationship, and no one (not even Daphne’s disapproving parents) are going to mess that up for them.
Velma: she is the forensics nerd who sometimes gets super excited about the wrong thing at the wrong time (”He was mummified in seconds? That’s so cool!” “Velma!  His wife is standing right there!” “Oh.  Sorry.”).  She’s not purposely insensitive, she just gets laser focused on her work and forgets to filter herself sometimes.  She’s also the one who can get so fixated on solving whatever mystery they’re working on, she’s willing to bend or maybe break laws.  Is breaking and entering really so bad?  Not if it gets them answers.
Shaggy: he is still the comic relief, but he’s the comic relief by being the only person in the group that actually has common sense.  He manages the business’s finances, he’s the only one who knows how to cook, and the others tease him for being a coward sometimes, but Shaggy maintains that if a ghost with an axe is coming for you, running is the only sensible option.  He should also have a range of random knowledge that sounds useless, but sometimes saves the day (ex ventriloquism, origami, the history of spoons, etc).
Scooby: as this is a universe where supernatural creatures exist, Scooby is an ancient eldritch type being that took a shine to Shaggy when he was a kid, and took the form of a talking dog to befriend and hang out with him.  Aside from the talking dog bit and not aging, he never uses his powers in a way that anyone notices.  The audience is not told upfront that Scooby is an ancient eldritch being; it should slowly be hinted at throughout the series so the audience put it together, but the characters never realize it.  Scooby genuinely considers Shaggy to be his best friend, and cares about the rest of the gang too.
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sabertoothwalrus · 2 months
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here are some preliminary sketches I had done in my sketchbook for the peepaw chilchuck comic.
I wanted to follow it up with some worldbuilding thoughts I had while working on it, if that sort of thing is interesting to anyone:
- it’d take place 5ish years post-canon
- I changed almost everyone’s hair to show time had passed. Chilchuck and Kabru were the most drastic (I COULDNT STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT LONG HAIR KABRU THAT KUI DREW), Marcille grew out her bangs, Senshi’s beard is slightly shorter, and Izutsumi’s hair is mildly longer. Laios and Falin give me the impression that they’re the brand of neurodivergent that’d pick one haircut and stick to it for the rest of their lives. I almost gave Laios facial hair but idk he’s gotten over his daddy issue enough for that.
- Emertim Chils: I tried to follow both the half-foot and dwarven naming conventions for the baby, so Emer- comes from “emerald” (dwarven names are often gemstones or ore) and -tim because Chilchuck’s father’s first name was Tim :) Dwarves don’t have family names, so Emertim would take Chils, same as Flertom. Usually they’re named after their father but I didn’t wanna name a random dwarf man. thank you Chel for helping name him 🫶💕
- Initially the idea that Chilchuck would keep an entire grandchild a secret was just a joke, but it made sense when I thought about it. I wonder,, would dwarf/half-foot couples have trouble conceiving? Because if so, I’d imagine Flertom may have lost a couple pregnancies. Chilchuck is already such a private person, and I don’t think he’d feel comfortable airing his daughter’s grief like that. They wouldn’t wanna tell anyone until they were sure this baby was gonna make it.
- For the above reason, Chilchuck would absolutely spoil this kid. Not that he wouldn’t have spoiled his grandkids anyway, but I think after all that stress, he’d be extra extra doting. He’d be letting him do things he’d never DREAM of letting his own daughters do. Completely different parenting style.
- I think he’s still too prideful to take advantage of Laios being King (sidenote: is Laios even wealthy??? does a kingdom that sprung up from a previously-sunken continent even have money?? what the fuck is their economy), but like,,, if Laios offered any gifts he wouldn’t exactly say no.
- Izutsumi surprisingly really likes the baby :3 she’d like to take naps with him and he’d like her purrs and she’d have a lot of fun playing with him.
- SENSHI. meemaw mode. That kid would grow up not realizing Senshi isn’t technically one of his grandads. He is FEEEEEDING this kid.
- LAIOS DOES GET TO HOLD THE BABY!!!!!! just. eventually. They don’t actually expect a Tarrare situation LMAO they just wait until the kid is a little less fragile and a little more mobile. I think Laios would be really good with toddlers.
- Chilchuck is very thankful Emertim’s half-foot genes kick in sooner than later because he was getting too big for him to carry.
- Emertim would probably get the extended lifespan. He and Marcille would get to stay friends for a very very long time :’)
- my personal headcanon is that Chilchuck and his wife decide to split. He still loves her and it’s probably still a bit mutual, but after four years of almost no-contact, they decide their communication issues aren’t working well for their relationship. Plus, the Adventurer’s Bible says Chilchuck is renting their old house out to family, and he’d feel bad kicking them out so he and wife could move back in. They’d still be on good terms, and would be good at coordinating when to babysit.
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washeduphazbin · 3 months
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Adam NSFW Alphabet
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Here ya go, ya filthy simps.
First time doing a nsfw alphabet so if it’s … bad I’m sorry. Lmk how to improve tho
--Minors DNI--
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
At the beginning of the relationship, I don't think this man knew what aftercare was; I mean, there's a reason Lilith left him. Let's be honest. It would take a learning curve and a lot of explaining from you about your needs after sex until he'd realize how important it really was.
Once he got the idea down, he'd be religious with it every time after sex, he'd ask, "What the fuck you needed to feel extra sexy."
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
What isn't his favorite body part? Toss up between Boobs, Ass, and Thighs, he loves them all. If you held a gun to his head, he'd say your boobs, big or small, he would NOT CARE. He wants them in his mouth.
Small boobie queens, he'd squeeze them like little stress balls when he's annoyed or anxious.
Big boobie queens, pillows. Need I say more. Calls them bazoingas unironically.
Type of guy to stand next to you talking to Lute and reach out and just squeeze your tits, letting out a HONK. Lute would roll her eyes with a snicker as you flushed, while Adam would look at you with the biggest shit-eating grin.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
This guy's cum is thick. milky and warm.
Beads at the tip when you turn him on and likes to cum deep inside you, filling you entirely or on your tits or ass.
Will stare hotly as both your cum spills out of you, as you whimper and whine, usually making him ready for round two.
When you suck him off, he enjoys watching it spill from your lips instead of you swallowing.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Adam has one main secret (idk if it qualifies as dirty) but enjoys genuine praise for things he feels proud of accomplishing. It's not like you praising him for exterminating sinners; it's just simple, innocent praise when he does something particularly sweet for you.
A big softie, but only in private and only to you.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
He's a fuckboy. Sorry, not sorry, he just is. HOWEVER, it doesn't mean he is a star at sex. He's decent at first, but there's a reason Lucifer stole two of his wives. His biggest gripe was he didn't want to reciprocate head, but you broke him off that relatively quick when you squeezed your thighs around his skull for the first time, practically double-killing him.
It was fuckin' hot.
You both have a lot to learn, but you learn together, and the sex is still angelic.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
He has two:
He enjoys cowboy/girl because he's lazy and likes to watch your tits bounce in front of his face.
He also enjoys doggy style, so he can see your ass bounce as he pounds into you, biting your ass cheeks as he goes and slapping.
G = Goofy (are they more severe in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)
Goofy. He does not shut his mouth; he always has something to say as he's getting intimate with you. It's safe to say he never stops talking, which means he's very vocal about moans, whines, and grunts. It's safe to say he has no filter regarding you.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Pretty basic, but the carpet matches the drapes. However, he could be better- groomed. It's safe to say he's definitely hairy, not just there but all over.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)
Although Adam is definitely more goofy, as discussed earlier, I think sex is intimate and essential to him. While he can be silly, he works his ass and dick off to make sure it's the best sex you've ever had. Oddly enough, when he's alone with you and in a soft mood, he always romantically initiates sex.
Slow and sensual kisses lead to heated make-outs and biting before turning into more.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
I think Adam is on the more hypersexual side of the spectrum if you see sex as a spectrum like I tend to. So, if you're not around for some reason, he will probably be cranking one out sometimes more than once a day. Honestly, even if you are around and you're not feeling sex at the moment, he'll pout, but ultimately, go watch whatever heavens' equivalent to porn.
(or videos he's recorded of the two of you ;) )
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
I think Adam would have three main kinks:
Breeding - "All of humanity came from this dick."
Mommy Kink - need I explain more? Dominant women are such a significant turn-on for him; one look when you're in Dommy Mommy mode, and he's on his knees.
Role-Play- If you don't think he'd make you cosplay and act like Sinner who is trying to redeem themselves just for him to role play fucking redemption into you, your opinion is just incorrect. Sorry.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere and Everywhere. He doesn't care; if people see good let them know you're both hot as fuck. They're probably green with envy.
His favorite place, though, is on his desk in his office. The thrill of getting caught lights a fire in him that can't be snuffed out without burying himself in your cunt.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
I feel like we discussed this one a lot, but I can add a few more. When you're mad at something Hell did or another resident of Heaven. Also, when defending him, think of the "He asked for no pickles" meme, but it's you asking for Adam.
Oh, and of course, you are in any type of lingerie, punk rock, or revealing clothing.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)
Piss, Poop, ya know the classics. He'd also never want to seriously hurt you, maybe a light slap here and there, maybe a little choking, but if he ever hurts you in the act, he's flaccid so quick and on you like a mother hen.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
As stated earlier, his preference is receiving; he loves the way you look between his thighs and his thick cock in your mouth. Drool and pre-cum leaking from your lips.
But he has gotten more open to giving and isn't...great, but you're teaching him how to work his tongue and fingers.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
He sets a fast and rough pace, hits you deep in your canal, and kisses your cervix, almost like he's trying to hit your womb. He's a feral beast honestly once he starts fucking you and it'd take an act of God to get him to stop.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
All the time though not super preferred, He likes to tease you as much as he can before letting you cum, but most of the time you have sex, it's out of the house. It's a constant struggle to keep your hands off one another and, more often than not, sneak off for a quick fuck somewhere before rejoining a meeting, hangout or if Adam needs immediate stress relief.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)
So long as it's not on his list of hard no's, I feel like Adam will try anything once if you ask. He's for sure a risk taker and wants you to challenge him with something new, but in the end prefers classic sex.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)
He can last only two rounds, but they usually last. A very long time because he likes to be a little shit.
T = Toys (do they own toys or use them on a partner or themselves?)
He does not own toys, and if you have them and use them, he will absolutely be jealous of them and attempt to make you trash them. But if you say no, he'll respect it. Just be extremely salty.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Oh, he's a brat. It is so unfair that it will test you pretty much through the entire process. He enjoys seeing how much he can overstimulate and edge you before he finally fucks you raw.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
So fucking loud. God bless your neighbors if you have any. His groans and moans could shake the entire house, and your whines, whimpers, and pleas for 'harder' aren't any better.
He also laughs a lot.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
I think he loves to mark you up to prove to everyone that you are his and his alone. I think it would start with a shit ton of hickies, then a joke from Lute saying he should just collar you until he actually does. It's classy and elegant, matches his angelic robes, and has spikes.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
So I absolutely headcanon him with a dad bod (sorry, not sorry); I think he also has significant arm and chest hair and a particularly drool-worthy happy trail. He's squishy and you love it even though he can be a little insecure about it at times, you just tell him you love him no matter his shape or size.
He is your Teddy Bear.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
HYPERSEXUAL. HIGH. THIS MAN WANTS SOME FUCK.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)
Passes out quickly afterward and can't go more than two rounds max. Likes to sleep right after but has learned to check on you first before passing out on your tits or chest.
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rileyslibrary · 10 months
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pretty pretty please 🩶
imagine ghost is forced to speak at a school’s career fair because he’s out on medical, and reader gets sent with him to chaperone. (i.e. make sure he doesn’t scare any kids to 💀. and also maybe to feed him some slightly manipulative praises so he stays in a good mood lmao)
———————————————————————
You’re both standing in the principal’s office. The school was kind enough to offer you a private room since kids are a little rowdy today, and Ghost isn’t very fond of tiny hands tagging at his uniform and asking him “how many people he has killed”.
You’re holding two balaclavas; one is black, while the other is a deep shade of army green.
“It’s either this one or that one.” You say while raising both to his eye level.
He pushes your hands down and points to his skull mask. “No.” He states. “I’ll stick with the one I’m wearing.”
You frustratedly shake the balaclavas to your sides. “Come on, Lieutenant,” you plead, “you’ll scare the kids.”
“Have you seen kids these days?” he asks, raising his hands. “These fuckers are not afraid of anything!”
“Oh god,” You wince and toss the balaclavas on the principal’s desk. You shake your index finger at his face like a teacher disciplining a misbehaving student. “Don’t you dare to swear in front of them!”
“Have you heard, kids—”
“—these days.” You cut him off with a flick of the wrist. “Yes, but there’s no need to reinforce bad behaviour.”
He lets out a long exhale and places his hands on his waist. He begins pacing around the principal’s office, swearing under his breath. You’re trying to figure out whether he needs to let it all out before his big speech or if he’s cursing the moment he has agreed to do this.
He pauses in front of a painting hanging next to a window overlooking the school’s playground. He slouches and places one hand on his lower back, rubbing his injury.
You approach him from behind and gently grasp his forearm.
“Hey,” you whisper, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he replies sternly. “Never mind.”
“Are you in pain? Please talk to me.”
“I’m not in pain!” He protests. “In fact, I wasn’t in pain to begin with, when the medics decided that I was,” he makes air quotes with his fingers, “temporarily unfit for duty.”
You place a palm on his lower back and begin rubbing it. He relaxes at your touch and puts one hand on the wall to support his weight.
“You talk about not reinforcing bad behaviour,” he murmurs, “but I’m not the best role model either.”
“Bullshit!” You scowl.
“Seriously,” he insists, “I highly doubt I’d be here talking to kids about their future if I hadn’t been injured.”
He’s correct, but he doesn’t need to know that, especially now, as you wait to enter a classroom full of kids. Any other team member would be far more qualified for this role. Gaz is such a cool guy that most kids would deem him a god. Price feels like the father you wish you had when he talks, and Soap can adapt to anyone he speaks to. Even you would be a better fit for this year’s career fair. But, Ghost? No, not at all.
“Come on, Simon,” you say as you continue rubbing his back. “It’s less about ‘being a role model’ and more about relating to them.”
“How am I supposed to relate to them?” He wonders, “My childhood was nothing like theirs.”
“How do you know?”
He looks at you and motions towards the window. “Look at them,” he says, “they’re full of life.”
“Not all of them are like that, Ghost; some are putting on a show.” You explain, and he turns to look at you again. “They look all jolly, but they might struggle at home or school. Worse, they can’t admit what’s happening behind closed doors because they’re either ordered to remain silent or not understand it themselves.”
He huffs and shakes his head. “Now I can relate to that.” He murmurs.
“See? You need to spot these kids and indirectly talk to them.”
“Spot?” He asks. “How do I spot them?”
“You mean to tell me you’re trained to spot targets from miles away but can’t see when a child suffers in silence?” You ask back. “Plus, it takes one to know one.”
He nods. “And what should I communicate to these kids?” He asks. “How do I help them?”
“By showing them that there’s something better waiting for them out there.”
“Don’t be naive, Y/N. How is what we do better than what they’re going through right now?”
“It’s not about the military, Simon.” You elaborate. “It’s about giving them another chance. They deserve to know there are options other than turning into their drug-addicted mother or alcoholic father.” You lean forward so he can meet your gaze. “Someone gave you a second chance, right?”
He closes his eyes and ponders your words. You tilt your head at him, trying to predict what he’ll say next so you can respond quickly.
But he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he straightens up and takes a deep breath. “You know,” he begins, “I gave one of those speeches to a school a few years ago.”
“Oh!” You cheer and pat him on the back twice. “Did you, now?”
“Lysychansk, Ukraine.” He recalls, “I was being held hostage with a bunch of kids.”
“Tell me more about it,” you say, sitting on the principal’s desk and playing with a pink highlighter. He begins narrating his story, and you can tell he’s becoming more confident as he realises he’s spoken to children before, albeit in a very different context, but who cares? What matters is that he is becoming more at ease with his “previous experience.”
You, in turn, try to give him your full attention, but now that his doubts have subsided, your primary concern is that mask of his. He needs to take it off.
“See? You’re far more experienced than any of us!” you shout. “And in that setting? My god! None of us would have been able to do such a thing!”
He chuckles and looks proudly out the window at the children playing in the school’s playground. He seems to be looking forward to it now.
“Hey, um, sir?”
He shifts his focus to you.
“Your mask, sir; It’s dirty,” you say as you point to his cheek.
He puts his hands on his mask. “Where?” He yells.
“It’s right….” You get up from the desk and take a step closer to him, inspecting his mask. You raise the marker and draw a bright pink line across his cheek, “...there.”
He immediately places his hand on his cheek, looks at the highlighter in your hand, and then back at you.
“You... motherfucker...” he murmurs.
You move away from him and stand behind the desk.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t let you go out with that mask on; the parents will be furious.” You point to the balaclavas on the principal’s desk. “You do, however, have two other options! Take your pick, and I’ll see you in class in 5 minutes!” And with that, you rush out of the principal’s office and into the school’s corridor.
You enter the classroom and greet the kids with a smile, trying to hide your nervousness. Walking towards the back where the parents are seated, your mind starts racing; Is he trying to choose a mask, or is he cleaning up your mess? What if he’s so furious that he doesn’t show up, leaving you to give the speech? Worse, what if he enters the classroom and takes his anger out on you?
But, the door opens, and Ghost walks in. Your eyes widen, and your jaw drops. He’s not wearing any mask. Not the black one, not the green one, not the skull—with the pink streak—mask on. Nothing.
You observe him moving around; despite his lack of disguise, he maintains his composure. He greets everyone in the room, smiles, waves back at the kids and stands next to the teacher. You let out a relieved exhale through pierced lips. This is going well, thank god.
As the teacher introduces Ghost to the class, you turn to give him a thumbs up, and his eyes lock with yours. There’s a faint smirk playing on his lips, and your heart skips a beat as he silently mouths something in your direction: “You’ll pay for this.”
———————————————————————
A/N: YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS, ANON! I was forcing myself to take a break from writing, only to be slapped by an inspiration wave. Hope you liked it, though; I had fun making it.
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msfantasy-comics · 6 months
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The Family Meet and Greet
Damian Wayne x Reader
Request/Summary: Hey hun! I wanted to send in a request for Damian Wayne x reader. Maybe reader being introduced to the family/the family finding out about them?
A/n: Honestly I can’t tell if the picture is Tim or Damian.
Masterlist - Tip Jar
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Damian is a pretty private person and doesn’t intend to do an awkward meet and greet with his beloved girlfriend.
He knew that all of his family members would find out one way or another anyway.
Dick Grayson:
It wouldn’t take a genius detective to know that Damian is asking for advice for his love life.
Damian sits in his hero costume, hunched over as his legs dangle over the side of the building. His eyes evade Dicks, a red hue spreading across the tips of his ears.
A soft smile embellishes Dicks lips as he sees his younger brother whom is typically egocentric, now looking timid and shy for the first time ever.
“So my friend started seeing someone recently and he had this dilemma on if he should keep seeing her or not because on one hand he has all this baggage he doesn’t want to burden her with and on the other hand he just can’t bring himself to break things off with her.”
“So this girl your seeing-“ Damian’s eyes bulge, snapping his neck towards Dick, acting too defensively.
“Ugh, are you not listening Grayson? I said it’s about my friend.”
“Right, right, I forgot. My bad…” Dick think’s carefully on his words. “Sounds like your friend is a classic over-thinker. Relationships are far from logical, it’s all based on feelings. It might be hard for your friend, but just enjoy it for what it is.” Damian sits and stares off over the Gotham skyline looking unconvinced. “Look Dames, there is no right answer. Just do what feels right.”
Leaning back into his palms he stares in amusement at his beloved younger brother continues pining in anguish.
“So… how long do we keep pretending that we aren’t talking about you? Can I see a picture?” Damian rolls his eyes with a sigh, sliding his phone out of his pocket, he taps on the screen silently before shoving his phone into Dicks hands.
There laid the image a happy couple. Damian’s arms wrapped around your shoulder. The dark city filtering behind the brightly lit couple, forever captured in permanent laughter.
Dick, initially keen to tease the cheesy photo before him, now silent in pure aw to see the genuine smile, Damian’s eyes lit in adoration.
“Do not tell anyone Grayson. I will share the news when I am ready.”
Tim Drake:
The little rat has been acting rather odd.
Tim tried talking about it to Dick but he just kept evading his questions by pathetically redirecting his attention with someone else’s random drama.
They’re both acting weird and secretive, and there is no way Tim is going to be kept out of such an intriguing mystery.
Usually Tim would just stalk his targets, but this is Damian we are talking about. It is incredibly difficult, if not impossible to track Damian without him noticing. Starting with Damian’s social media, Tim pin points all of the photo locations and begins to visit each site one at a time. He hacks the local cameras and reviews the footage from around the date the photo was uploaded.
Low and behold, footage of Damian smooshing his face into another ladies face….
Whelp, Tim was certainly not expecting to see such a DISGUSTING display of affection. YUCK.
He didn’t even know the rat could even feel those types of feelings.
Tim, now laying on his bed cuddled up to a pillow is looking… traumatised.
Sometimes, it’s better just not to know.
Barbara Gordon
No freaking way.
Barbara could not believe her very eyes.
When completing a Internet background check on the Wayne family to scrub any suspicious allegations or accusations, Babs found the Holy Grail of finds.
An account with a mysterious woman with months worth of photos with the Wayne’s local angsty brat, Damian Freaking Wayne.
When completing a generic photo match search. Lovey, dovey poses with Damian and a girl by the name Y/n flashed up on the screen.
This is juicy! To tell Bruce or not to tell Bruce, that is the question.
Jason Todd
Disgusting. Absolutely foul.
It’s a random Tuesday evening when Jason jumps roof tops only to discover a couple making out all hot and heavy.
Their bodies tangling together as the man rips his shirt off. The girl sliding her hands along his abdomen before landing on his belt buckle.
The man then slides his hands from the back of her neck to her ass, giving it a needy grope before sliding his hands to the back of her thighs, lifting the woman with ease and pressing her against the wall.
This is hilarious, they have no idea Gothams most infamous Vigilante has caught them about to get down and dirty on Gothams roof top.
Jason sat down and ate his figurative pop-corn in humourous delight, until his eyes adjust.
“Ain’t no FUCKING way!” Jason yells, humours delight now churning into a disturbed nausea. He swallowed the bile raising up in his throat.
Pulling out his phone he calls Damian. Panting breaths filter through the phone, only furthering Jason’s disgust.
“What?! I’m in the middle of-“
“I know what your in the middle of you sick bastard! Take it indoors!” The line goes quite for just a moment. “Little freak, your family patrols the roof tops you know, ugh, I can’t - I’m having a flash back to Selina and Bru- ugh I’m gonna vomit.”
Duke
“Finally!” Duke announces, hoping over the back of the couch and sprawling out on the soft cushions of the plush couch. Without a second to spare Duke switches the TV on to watch the latest episode of his favourite show.
“Thomas-“
“No talking!” Duke wholesomely announces, crossing his arms over his chest.
“My phone… forget it.” Damian grumbles, seeing Dukes eyes glued to the TV. Squishing further into the cushions, Duke feels the uncomfortable poke of a hard object pressing into his rib.
Wrenching the wretched object from its place, Duke holds a phone. His haphazard fingers pressing into the screen which lights up and shows the text of a person named Y/n.
Y/n: Can’t wait for our date tonight, I miss your handsome face xx
Dukes cheeks heats up, seeing a private message he shouldn’t have seen. Damian is incredibly private and may murder Duke for accidentally learning something he wasn’t suppose to.
Wiping any evidence of his fingers touching the phone Duke places the phone back between the cushions.
Best if he just abandons his show for now for a tactical retreat.
Bruce Wayne
God, why are his kids so weird?
Seriously? Out of all 20 of them, not a single one was normal…
Sitting at the head of the dinner table, he watches his children talk amoungst themselves in weird cryptic speeches.
“Do you know what I know?” Tim asks intensely, the broccoli wedged on his fork, pointing at Dick, who stares back wide-eyed.
“I don’t know anything … why what do you know?” Dick says scanning the rest of the room to see if they somehow knew what Dick was referring to.
“I can’t share what I know, but just know it. Is. Juicy.” Babs announces with a sly and taunting grin.
“I don’t know anything, I didn’t even want to see it. Oh god, I’m feeling queasy.” Jason says crossing his arms over his stomach.
“IDidntSeeAnythingEither.” Duke announces quickly, and begins to quickly Hoover his dinner.
Damian sighs, massaging his temples at his idiotic siblings.
“So I take it that you have all found out about Y/n?” Bruce asks calmly, slowly sawing into the plump steak on his plate.
The room falls dead silent as all heads turn towards Bruce, surprised that he knew and surprised that he had the guts to say what everyone else was thinking.
“Father, how do you know about Y/n?”
“… I’m Batman.”
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moonstruckme · 8 months
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Ok James but him and his slytherin girlfriend seem to come out of nowhere and the boys are supportive but are more mad at James for not telling them? Idk I loved your other fic SO MUCH
Thanks for requesting <3
part 1
cw: mention of injury, no details or anything though
James Potter x Slytherin!reader ♡ 1.5k words
You hesitate outside the doorway to the infirmary at the raised voices coming from inside. 
You don’t need to be here, strictly speaking. James told you his injury wasn’t bad, and he has his friends to help him if he needs it, but…you can’t settle yourself down. You hadn’t liked the way he’d limped off the field, nor the tiny grimace on his face when Sirius had wrapped a bracing arm under his shoulders. It would be just like James to downplay how hurt he is to make you feel better, and the longer the game had gone on without him the more your guts twisted themselves into knots over the idea that he was in pain. 
You’d seethed at yourself and your stupid soft heart all the way to the infirmary, where now you’re frozen just outside like a coward. Something inside you is coiled tight with tension at the idea of going to see James Potter, on purpose and in public, even though that’s dumb because now everyone at Hogwarts knows about the two of you anyway. Your sappy display on the quidditch pitch made sure of that. But now that you have official and widely-known claim to the girlfriend title, you have just as much right to see him as anyone else. You shove your anxiety back into your stomach where it belongs and open the door. 
As soon as you’re inside, the voices become clearer. “—like this isn’t a big deal. The Prophet’s going to be all over the two of you by tomorrow, and we had to find out with every other fucking bloke at the school!”
“Pads, you don’t think I would have told you if I could?” James sounds exhausted, and something mutinous throbs in your heart. It’s followed quickly by the more familiar twinge of irritation at the use of those moronic nicknames they all have. “She made me promise not to tell anyone, including the both of you.” 
They’re talking about you. Of course they’re talking about you. What else could possibly be more important after James has fallen a good twenty feet off his broom than his dating life? This is why you hadn’t wanted to tell people. Hogwarts wears away at private lives like dementors at souls, and the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin is too strong for your relationship with James to have any hope of remaining untainted once the gossip mill got ahold of it. 
Your instincts are screaming at you to turn around and leave before they catch sight of you, but you force yourself to keep walking. If you start letting what people think about you and James affect you now, you’ll never be able to get past it. 
Remus is the first to spot you, going still as if you’ve come to hex him, but James’ face splits into a lopsided grin that has the knots in your gut loosening very slightly. 
“Especially you,” you say to Sirius as you brush past him, perching by James' pillow and weaving your fingers into his curls. There’s a wrap around his middle. It’s very hard to appear calm and blasé when you feel like you’re going to rupture something if he doesn't promise you he’s okay right this instant. “You’d have had all of Gryffindor talking about us within an hour.” 
Sirius bristles but visibly shoves his temper aside, his voice matching your coolness as he says, “If I’d told anyone, Y/L/N, it would have been to inquire about whether anyone’s noticed you gathering ingredients for amortentia recently. James doesn’t keep things from us. Artificial infatuation is the only explanation for why he’d tolerate you and your secrets.” 
“Oi,” James says, but you pat his head placatingly. You can fight your own battles. 
“That how you got this one?” you jut your chin towards Remus, who’s looking somewhat entertained as he watches the two of you spar. “If I’m ever in need of the recipe, Black, you’ll be the first person I come to, but I don’t need to resort to such measures myself.” 
Sirius glowers at you, and James sets his hand on your shoulder just as Remus wraps a pacifying arm around his boyfriend. “Alright, I think that’s enough,” the taller boy says in his usual calm manner, and though Sirius is still tensed for a fight, he allows himself to be drawn into Remus’ side.
James nods in agreement. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys, really. I thought I’d get a chance to before everyone found out, but…” He turns up his palms helplessly. “Things didn’t go as planned.” 
“We’ll get over it,” Remus says, Sirius quietly fuming beside him. “Won’t we, love?”
Sirius looks up at Remus' face, which is clearly a mistake, because he softens like butter in the sun. “Yeah, yeah, just gimme a bit,” he grumbles halfheartedly. “Anything to keep our Prongsie happy, right?”
James beams, so clearly relieved at the settlement of the conflict that you feel a bit guilty for participating in it. He kisses you on the cheek, chuckling against your skin. “You stink.” 
“Some of us stuck around to play the whole game,” you reply.
“Ouch,” James says, but he’s grinning. “Couldn’t really help that, could I?”
You give him a look to let him know you haven’t forgotten how his negligence had gotten him hurt. “Debatable.” 
You hear Remus chuckle but don’t take your eyes off James’ face, inspecting it for signs of the pain you suspect he’s hiding. “How bad is it really?” you ask, softening your voice even though there’s no chance of his friends not hearing you. 
James worries his lip, big brown eyes looking into yours guiltily. “Pomphrey says I broke three ribs and bruised my tailbone pretty badly. Minor concussion, too, but nothing serious.” 
Sounds serious enough to you. You ghost a hand over the back of his head as if you’ll be able to find and fix his hurt. He leans into your palm though, so it’s not for nothing. “I’m sorry I walked away out there,” you all but whisper. “I should have stayed with you.” 
James eyebrows pinch together. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he promises just as softly. He knows what it costs you to talk like this in front of people, like you’re turning yourself inside out for them to judge and stab at as they please, but James has no such reservations. He dots a kiss, feather-light, at the top of your cheekbone, wrapping an arm around you protectively. “Thanks for coming, I mean it.” 
You clear your throat. “Yeah, and in my fucking quidditch gear,” you say in your normal voice, attempting to banish the heavy mood. As if your heart isn’t still beating, hummingbird-fast and fragile, in your throat. “We both need to change and shower, and then you should rest. Did Pomphrey say you could leave?”
James nods, still looking at you like you’ve cracked open in his hands (he might be right; it feels like you have, and it wouldn’t even be the first time today). He rubs your upper arm affectionately, but his voice is easygoing when he says, “Yup, I’m good to go.” 
Sirius steps forward, as though to remind the two of you that he is, in fact, also present. “Great. We’ll walk you back to the room.” 
You turn to him, not quite ready for your time with James to be up and aching for the opportunity to dote on him in private. “That’s okay, I can take him.” 
Sirius’ eyes narrow. “You can’t even get into our dorms.” 
“Please, like Gryffindor’s riddles are so perplexing.” 
“I don’t need an escort,” James interjects. He pushes himself up with a grimace. 
You halt him with your hands on his shoulders and Remus says, “Don’t be stupid, Prongs, you can barely walk.” 
“I’ve got him,” you say firmly. Sirius stares you down, but you don’t flinch from his stony gaze. You know he doesn’t trust you. You don’t think he’d willingly trust any Slytherin. Since you’ve been at Hogwarts, the talk in your house has always been that Sirius Black shuns his family because they’re all Slytherins. Although James assures you there’s more to the story than that, it’s still obvious to anyone that he considers his friends his true family. He won’t entrust just anyone with James’ safety. But maybe that’s one thing you can agree upon. 
He must see something of this in your face, because after a minute Sirius relents, rolling his eyes. “Fine,” he says. “I wanted to stop by the kitchens anyway.”
James is looking between the two of you curiously, aware that something has transpired but not quite sure what. 
You don’t give Sirius a chance to change his mind. “Alright,” you say, gripping James' forearms and helping him to stand. “Let’s go, pretty boy.” 
James drapes his arm across your shoulders gamely, and the two of you start out the door. “I don’t think that’s the insult you think it is.”
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eldritch-thrumming · 4 months
Text
what, like it’s hard?, pt. one
“it’s just that… if i want to win a seat in congress by the time i’m thirty, i need to find someone who’s serious about my career. not some little elementary school teacher that cares more about his students than what he’s wearing on my campaign stops,” tommy tells steve, as they’re sitting in quite possibly the fanciest restaurant steve’s ever step foot in. the menu hadn’t even included any prices.
“but… i’m seriously in love with you.” steve feels like his whole world is falling apart. just last week he’d been so sure that tommy was getting ready to propose. he’d introduced steve to his family—they’d spent a week out on martha’s vineyard for a family reunion at which steve had met tommy’s great-grandmother, hands laden with rings as she’d winked when tommy had asked for a private conversation. steve had been so sure that conversation was about the family ring.
“and i love you too, baby, but look. you don’t want to have to leave your students for half the year to come on the campaign trail with me, do you?” tommy asks, not even really looking at steve. he continues to just eat his stupid dinner as if he’s not ripping steve’s heart out at this very moment.
and steve can’t help but think how silly this all is, because it’s not like tommy’s actually running for anything right now. steve doesn’t even teach yet, beyond the two days a week he does his student teaching. they’re only 22, they haven’t even graduated northwestern with their bachelors degrees! but tommy’s saying these things as if they’re all real, right now.
“and i’m off to harvard next fall. it’s not like we’ll stay together while i’m there and you’re still here, right?”
and the thing is, steve had actually thought he’d be going with tommy to boston. they’re both set to graduate in the spring, steve with his degree in education and tommy with a dual major in pre-law and political science. they hadn’t really ever talked about it, but they’d been together since the beginning of their sophomore year. so yes, steve had thought they’d still be together when tommy started at harvard law.
but now steve’s starting to feel extra stupid.
“so… what? you’re breaking up with me?” steve starts to feel his chest tightening, like he might cry. he can’t believe that two hours ago he thought he’d been getting ready for a proposal.
“don’t think of it as a breakup, stevie… think of it as a conscious uncoupling. we’re just moving in two different directions. i’ll be at harvard law next semester and you’ll be…” tommy gives him a look of slight disdain—steve has never seen tommy look at him like that. waitstaff? sure. his driver? absolutely. but it’s never been directed at steve before. “well, you’ll be teaching snot-nosed six year olds. we’re on different paths.”
and that’s what truly makes steve’s blood boil. his passion for teaching and education is one of his greatest qualities and he’d thought that had been part of the reason tommy loved him. he didn’t realize that tommy loved him in spite of that. he’s not gonna let some asshole like tommy montgomery hagan iii tell him he’s no good.
so he doesn’t respond. he just takes the linen napkin off his lap and throws it on his half-eaten steak dinner and marches out of the restaurant.
tommy doesn’t even follow him out.
~*~
“oh steve… i’m sorry,” robin says to him about an hour later while steve lays his head in her lap on their dingy couch.
“it’s not even that he broke up with me,” he explains through tears. “it’s that he basically said i was worthless. like i couldn’t do anything better than teaching. as if teaching isn’t even an admirable profession! where would he be without his teachers, huh? isn’t this all about going to stupid harvard? what does he think the professors there actually do? knit?”
“is this a bad time to tell you that i always kind of hated him?” robin says, maybe trying to get him to laugh. but it kind of surprises steve. he sits up, knocking her hands from where they’ve been carding through his hair in the process.
“you did?! no, you didn’t.” he searches robin’s face for a moment and then sighs. “why didn’t you say anything? you could’ve saved me a whole lot of wasted time.”
“babe, you were so gooey-eyed for that guy, nothing i said was gonna change that. a crowbar couldn’t have pried you away from him. but you have to know he was an asshole.” when steve stares at her blankly, she huffs. “steve, he used to offer to cover the whole tab when we went out. how often did he ever actually pay, even for his own drinks? he made poor jonathan cry the last time we were all here for game night, just because jonathan asked for clarification on the rules for pictionary.” steve is still staring at her. “he tried to stiff argyle by offering him a flight on his dad’s private jet instead of paying for his weed and we all know he doesn’t even have access to the jet. dude was cheap as fuck and not even nice about it.”
steve thinks about it. it was kind of true. tommy was a horrible tipper—steve usually laid down a couple of twenties when they went to dinner together when tommy wasn’t looking. he can remember more than a few times where the guy had sent their food back even though it had looked perfectly wonderful to steve. so… okay, maybe robin had a point.
steve tells her as much, then adds, “but he was always nice to me.”
robin snorts. “are you kidding? he’s stood you up so many times i can’t even remember all of them. remember that time he said his first impression of you was that you weren’t as hot as your pictures? who says that to the person they’re dating?”
steve groans and lays his head back down in her lap.
“okay, so maybe you have a point about that too. but i was gonna marry him, rob. what do i do now?” he knows he’s whining, but he feels just a little bit entitled to it right now.
“i don’t know, babe. get over it, i guess. welcome to the world of us singles. it sucks out here.” steve can hear the fondness in robin’s voice as she says it, but still. it does sting just a little.
they sit there in silence for a while, with robin running her hands through his hair again. it’s so soothing that he almost jumps out of his skin when she speaks again.
“hey, you know what would be super funny?” she’s laughing a little as she says it.
“what?” steve had been dozing just a little and his voice sounds muffled by fatigue.
“if you got into harvard and just showed up on the first day. imagine the look on his face.”
steve laughs at how ridiculous that sounds. like he could get into harvard. plus, he’s got teaching to think about. he doesn’t have a place yet, but he knows he’ll get one soon.
but as he sits there with robin’s hands stroking through his hair, he begins to daydream about how shocked tommy would be. about how he’d have no choice but to eat his words when steve proves himself by getting into one of the most competitive programs in the country. about how good it would feel to prove the bastard wrong.
“robin?” she hums in response. “you’re a goddamn genius.”
~*~
“dingus, are you sure you want to do this?”
the spring semester starts in three days. it’s their last semester at northwestern and there’s nothing but great big darkness on the horizon of steve’s future. he hasn’t slept in two days, busy studying, thick workbooks piled around around him at the kitchen table. he knows what he must look like, over-caffeinated with bruises under his eyes.
“i’m sure.” steve has his lsat exam in one week. “i have to take the exam this week. apps are due by march first.”
“no, steve, i don’t mean taking the test. i mean applying at all. it’s clearly more stress than it’s worth. do you even want to go to law school?” robin sounds concerned and normally steve would think it’s very sweet, but currently it does nothing but irritate him.
“i could,” he responds grumpily.
robin sighs. “i just mean… is this worth it?”
steve looks up then and sees her biting her lip, clearly worried about him. he puts his pencil down and stops the timer on his phone, giving her his full attention.
“this isn’t just about tommy.” robin gives him a skeptical look and it’s his turn to sigh. “it’s really not. maybe it started out that way, maybe it was just a stupid joke to get revenge on the asshole, but now it’s more than that. it’s proving that i can do something unexpected of me.” he swallows. “no one even believed i would get into college. i was just some stupid jock in high school who’d never amount to anything. and then i got in to northwestern and i was so shocked and happy. but i found out that my dad had actually pulled a bunch of strings. so i hadn’t gotten in on my own merits. he didn’t think i could. but now…” he runs a hand through his hair nervously. he’s never said any of this out loud before. “he’s not around now. there’s no one to help me. no safety net. if i can do this, it’ll prove something to me. something that maybe i don’t really believe yet.”
he expects robin to say something about external validation being a corrupting force and identity built on academic achievement being solely a losing game, but she doesn’t. instead, she sits down across the table from him and picks up a workbook.
“okay,” she says. “what do we have to do?”
~*~
“mail here?” steve calls out when he hears the front door close behind robin.
there’s a moment that feels like a pause. “yeah, it’s here.”
steve practically sprints from his bedroom to his living room. robin holds a single white envelope in her hand. steve all but snatches it from her.
his fingers move to rip it open, but then he hesitates. he thrusts it back towards robin. “i can’t,” he tells her. “you do it.”
her eyebrows shoot up. “you’re sure?” steve nods. he watches her rip the envelope open, bouncing on his feet. she scans the page and then she’s smiling.
steve grabs the paper from her. “oh my god?!” he yells. “oh my god!”
robin practically jumps into his arms. “179, baby! harvard law here we come.”
~*~
even after such a successful run at the lsats, there’s still the little matter of actually getting in to the school. steve’s only experience with the academic application process was with undergrad and it appears that applying for anything beyond a bachelors degree is an entirely different ball game. he’s so out of his depth that he’s forced to turn to grad school message boards for advice and tips of how to get in. it seems like everyone else is applying to a hundred different schools while steve’s only applying to one. he learns this is a terrible strategy for planning one’s future, but that doesn’t really matter to steve. for him, it’s harvard or nothing.
there are so many different parts of the application that it makes steve’s head spin. there’s the statement of purpose and the personal statement—the difference between those two requires robin’s careful and slow explanation about three separate times. then there’s the writing sample and the application and the recommendations and the transcripts and and and
but with robin’s help, steve completes each component and successfully sends his materials by the day of the deadline.
steve’s never been a patient person. no one on earth would accuse him of that, so even he can tell that he’s getting on robin’s nerves every day as he practically pounces on her when she returns from collecting the mail.
and then one day, finally, at the end of april, she comes through the front door and clutched in her hand is a big, thick white envelope emblazoned with the words ‘harvard law’ in bold, beautiful crimson red.
~*~
“last chance to back out,” robin says smiling as she swings herself up into the passengers seat of their rented u-haul.
“nah.” steve returns her smile as he slides his sunglasses from his hair onto his face. “let’s get out of this dump.”
and with that, they leave their first apartment behind, headed to the coast.
[wanted to finish this completely before posting but my benadryls kicking in and i have no self control. eventual steddie, promise! no tag list for this one, sorry!! it’s giving me anxiety on the other one lol absolutely not edited, if u see a typo no u don’t. i wrote this on my phone in a feverish frenzy. also, i originally invented someone for the role of warner but then i was like ‘IDIOT!!!!! why would u not choose tommy?????’ so if there’s a name in here that shouldn’t be, no there isn’t.]
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ma1dita · 3 months
Text
buddy system
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 4.2k
summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he comes with you to rescue your twin brothers, Pollux and Castor. A weekend 'quest' teaches you a lot about Luke, and about yourself too. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader
a/n: um i cant apologize for this word count and ive been looking at this for too long so fuck. Anyways do yall think Luke felt bad when he found out Castor died in battle because of his army in this universe? just me?? okay :) also trouble gets a cool magic item that makes an appearance here, kinda works like polyjuice but with smoke
(posted 2/7/24 betad by lovely ellie @lixzey might edit again when i get some sleep)
“No. You might be my father, but you’re crazy, man!”
You’re standing in D’s office at the Big House, and what was supposed to be a short talk before the counselors’ meeting has turned into a full-blown argument. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the words leaving your godrent’s mouth.
You’re going to pick up your little brothers.
“Those two statements are both true, kid. You’re old enough to understand that!”
They need your help.
“You’re really letting your 16-year-old daughter drive down to Florida by herself to pick up some kids she’s never met? Won’t even send me with any quest companions, or like, Grover?” you say exasperatedly, before slumping down into a seat.
“Think of it as family bonding! They’re great from what I remember. You all need to get along anyway.”
Whether it was jealousy or the sudden urge to be petty, you impulsively grab your dad’s Diet Coke and chug it, crushing the can with your fist as a tiny act of rebellion. 
Another one appears on the desk and you chuck it over your shoulder. Mr. D sighs as he conjures another one, to which you do the same thing.
“I can do this all day, kid.”
“So can I, and you know if I do, we’ll be sitting here until I’m 40,” you say expectantly, tapping your fingers on the hardwood surface of his desk.
“What do you want?”
The keys to his car are a start, as well as extra pocket money—but there was something, or rather, someone missing to make sure this weekend goes as smoothly as possible.
Your smirk widens at your father, and he wonders when you’ve gotten good at playing his own game.
It’s like looking into a mirror but his worst nightmare manifested as a teenage girl.
There are only two things Luke can think about when he hears the sound of your laughter.
The first is that, unlike your angelic singing that could rival the Muses, your laughter takes after the sound of a maniac, an incredulous crescendo that only something curated by Hades in the deepest pits of Tartarus could produce. It was almost madness-inducing, and it went off in his brain like you were a siren (although he means the kind used for weather advisory, he too gets lured in by your laughter each time he hears it like he’s lost at sea).
Second, as he watches you storm down the lawn of the Big House, your anger brewing something comparable to a Category 5, he raises an eyebrow and thinks, well this ought to be good. Or entertaining at the very least.
“You,” you growl at him, guttural and sharp like the finger you jab into his chest, “we’re going on a quest!”
“Me?” Luke blurts, eyebrows furrowing at you.
A loud groan echoes through the grassy space between the house and the counselors as everyone looks up to see Mr. D dragging his hands down his face at the sheer thought of his daughter causing him more gray hairs. 
“That’s not what we agreed on, kid!” “If you want any of your children to come back to this hellhole in one piece I need backup!” “There’s more of you?”
Both you and your dad glare at Luke now, like he’s interrupting a private conversation.
“Since when do you like asking for help, princess?” 
Mr. D’s arms are crossed over his chest as he speaks to you. Though your height severely differs due to the wooden steps of the Big House, the air is palpable with fear only an Olympian could invoke, reminding the counselors that the man wearing the ugliest Hawaiian shirt known to humankind, is in fact inhuman. You, however, are standing tall in the freshly-cut grass in your combat boots with wrath that could rival Ares’ as you stare your father down like the rest of them wouldn’t get struck into the next lifetime due to your impertinence, as Annabeth loves to call it. She looks up at Luke, with her eyes conveying that she thinks you must be clinically insane, but he knows that already so he shrugs.
“I’m not asking for it, I’m demanding it. Besides, he’s like my ESA,” you say, then taking Luke by surprise as you grab him by the wrist and drag him off the front lawn. You think you can hear Beckendorf and Clarisse bite back chuckles.
“Someone tell Rodriguez he’s in charge of 11!” you yell into the air, and words of affirmation and good luck are muttered in response.
“Don’t I get a say in this, trouble?” Luke says playfully, tugging at your arm lightly but unresisting as you sigh and pull him along. Who in their right mind says no to a long weekend away from this place? Monsters and demigods be damned.
“No. Besides, they’re gonna need more luck than we do.”
“Liam, I don’t know why she trusts you, but if my daughter dies, I’ll make sure you’re next!” Mr. D yells out to your retreating figures, and all of the counselors turn to face him realizing that without you, well… that means he actually has to be in charge.
“So what’s the meeting supposed to be about, Annabelle?” Mr. D says, looking at Annabeth only knowing that she’s supposed to be the smart one—and the small girl sighs.
This is gonna be the longest weekend yet.
You’re speeding down I-95 with the windows down and the wind brushing through both of your hair. While Luke watches you from the passenger seat with the road signs blurring past his periphery, he also notices that it’s the first time in a while that he’s seen you this carefree. With both of you taking up counselor positions a few months ago, and your dad appointing you to be in charge of all of them (because why have a counselor for a population of one), there’s a lot about you that’s grown up in the two years you two have known each other. But what type of demigod gets to enjoy their childhood anyway, right? Luke can only remember bits and pieces of his.
“How do you even know where we’re going? I can barely read the signs,” he asks.
“Cool blessing from my stepmom. Ariadne’s chill. We talk sometimes and she likes that I keep D in check, so now I can never get lost,” you grin toothily, violet eyes flickering to meet his.
“Was it true what your dad said? That you trust me?”
His voice is a bit louder than it should be over the wind tunnel that blocks out the sound of the radio as the air whips in and out of the car.
“Well, I wouldn't say trust,” you drag out, leaning back against your seat with your eyes still on the road, “More like if I got abducted by a harpy, I think you could cut its wings off and give me a fighting chance at living.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t invite Mason to come,” he mumbles, and you smirk.
“Who?”
His hands are clenched in his lap as a blush brushes his cheeks, windswept in the rays of the late summer sun.
“Your boyfriend. Wouldn’t he be a better companion?” 
Something about the older son of Apollo always ground his gears. It was even worse that you both would sing Broadway musicals together during his sparring sessions. Your harmonious voices echoing from the amphitheater aside, the repetitive grating feeling in his stomach reminds him not to go see Hamilton if he ever makes it out to the city.
“He’s not…” you huff, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you think hard on what to say next, “He’s nothing serious.” You pull the sun visor down as you squint, tilting your head in case he says something else, but you hear nothing. Luke’s staring at your side profile, unable to hide his grin at the new information, biting his cheek.
“Besides, he’s a fucking terrible shot. And you’re supposed to be the best, so I’ve heard. Who else would I want on this trip with me?”
He chuckles at this lightly, your words bolstering his ego.
“So you’ve heard.”
And for a second, the sight of his smile distracts you enough that the car swerves a tiny bit closer to the median. You both ignore it and keep driving.
—-
Hypnos increases his hold on your senses as you finally take a break somewhere in North Carolina, taking refuge in a dimly lit corner of a gas station parking lot. The old car reeks of greasy fast food and all the sugar Luke could get his hands on at rest stops (it was really cute to see him indulge in more normal things like sweets instead of swordsmanship), and both of your seats are leaned back, but it’s hard to get comfortable after having your butt in the same seat for several hours.
You readjust yourself again, making the car shake a bit as you turn over to face Luke. 
“What’s wrong?” he mumbles through closed eyes. His head’s banged against the window one too many times, and it was starting to get annoying.
“Sorry. Just can’t sleep. Thinking too hard.”
He sighs, reaching over to toss your pillow into the backseat, and as you sit up, he rips your blanket off of you too.
“Hey!”
You go silent when you watch him make a makeshift bed for you, turning back with tired eyes as he gestures, “Go ahead. I don’t mind.”
“I feel bad, Luke. You’re taller than me and your knees almost hit the dashboard.”
He rubs at his eyes, looking at you impatiently, and you know his body is calling for comfort too.
“I’ve slept in worse conditions, you gotta remember that, trouble.” The stories Annie used to tell you about the both of them sleeping on the streets pull at your heart, and as you crawl towards the back, you move before you think rationally–tugging on his arm.
“Come on over here.”
“You sure?” “Before I change my mind, yeah.”
You both move around trying to find a place both of you can be comfortable in, first starting with your heads at opposite windows, legs tangling in the middle before he laughs a little too hard at your fumbling and you launch your pillow at his face. Awkwardly, you climb over his legs into his outstretched arms, slotting yourself against his side as he pulls your hair up from getting trapped between his shoulder and your back.
It’s deadly quiet, and Luke thinks if you could move any closer to him, you might hear his heart thundering in his chest.
“You smell like french fries,” you grumble into his sweater, and his laughter shakes you like an earthquake, uprooting the faint traces of sleep in your mind. 
“At least the monsters won’t find us. Gonna be harder when the twins get here. A lot of demigod smell to ward off.”
You don’t answer, and he thinks you may have fallen asleep until he notices your hand playing with the frays of his sweater.
“Trouble?”
“They’re really little,” you mumble, so low that he barely hears the hesitance in your voice.
“The monsters? Yeah, I fucking ho–” “Pollux and Castor. My…half-siblings, with really Greek names, and a mom that depends on me getting them to camp safely…” you trail off before your head jerks up to meet his eyes. It’s colder at night now, your bodies and the tiny throw blanket from your trunk providing ample heat even if his socked feet fight their way out from underneath.
“How old are they, nine?” He feels you nod against his chest before he continues, “I was nine when I left home.”
Your eyes get glassy at the thought of a smaller version of Luke, one who’s not all gangly legs and lean muscle—one much softer and innocent than the boy you lean your weight upon, running away from home to find a place he can belong. 
“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”
He shrugs, the arm propped against the headrest wrapping around you and resting on your hip, tapping you to continue your previous thought.
“I don’t know how to do this, I guess. I’m ripping them from their home and I—” “You’re not some kind of monster y’know? You put yourself down too much sometimes,” he sighs, and he watches the windows slowly start to fog up, “What don’t you know how to do?”
Ignoring his question, you change the subject hoping to talk about something lighter, and far less revealing to the thoughts inside your head.
“Do you remember all of that? Going to school and chalking up the sidewalks on the way home, hopscotch and ice cream trucks… I don’t want to take them away from that.”
Luke ponders, digging through his brain for anything happy from his childhood, but through the years his memories started to collect dust in the back of his mind.
“I don’t remember much.”
“Gods, I’m sorry…” 
Mason had told you of your habit of putting your foot in your mouth. You dealt in extremes, giving too much or too little, always saying the wrong thing—and it was the reason why things didn’t go further with the son of Apollo. As well as with the daughter of Aphrodite you saw briefly that told you you didn’t know how to love, not if you didn’t know how to share yourself with others (yeah that one hurt a lot).
Sharing. 
That’s what you’re hesitant about.
“Don’t be. It was a long time ago now,” Luke mumbles, a beat of silence passing before he redirects the conversation like you did, “What don’t you know how to do, trouble?”
“How to share. Be a sibling. Someone likeable.”
Luke doesn’t mean to laugh at your expense, but he does, and you punch his stomach hard enough he gasps for air.
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Everyone likes you.”
“Everyone’s usually scared of me because of D, or hates me because I take dessert privileges and write them up,” you say matter-of-factly, staring out the window above his head at the gentle shine of the moon on his features. It’s a crime for him to look so soft under the low light, and you realize you’re staring when he calls your name.
“No, you don’t get it—you’re the most selfless person I know. You give up sleep to sing to kids before bed, conjure juice boxes so they don’t pass out during training—I’ve seen you carry a kid almost as tall as you across camp because they broke their ankle. You’ve got a lot of love in that twisted heart of yours. I’d know… I mean—I have to share a lot… I’m basically an expert.”
You blink at him as if seeing him in a new light, and you realize then why you picked him to go on this weekend quest with you. Your heartbeat slows despite the show of vulnerability in front of him, and you understand now that Luke makes you feel safe. Biting your lip to hold back a sigh, you decide to just unload the rest of your thoughts, knowing that you’re in the hands of someone who wants to hold the weight. “I’m just used to being alone, I think. I mean who knows what we're like when we're alone but us, right? What a terrifying thought,” you deflect, and Luke closely watches the slope of your nose, down to the smoothness of your lips, unable to put the right words to how he’s feeling.
 I know you, he thinks, and it's not as all bad as you make it seem.
“We’re never truly alone, y’know. Besides, even if you are, you still have me,” he says nonchalantly, and the warmth on your cheeks could generate enough heat to run the car for miles. Chuckling lightly as your eyes flutter closed, you know you need to rest before morning comes since you’re the only one between the two of you that can drive. You reckon you’ll teach Luke by the end of the year if he wants to.
“We’re getting pretty terrible at this enemies thing, Castellan,” you jest with nothing hard to back it, and a smile falls onto both of your lips.
“We were never really enemies, trouble. I just like getting on your nerves.”
Your laughs fall silent, settling into a comfortable silence, until his next words send you off into slumber as you listen.
“I remember my mom singing in the kitchen as she put peanut butter on my sandwiches. She'd act like she left the dishes out for me to wash, but let me lick the knife clean every time and I’d put too much soap and the sink would be filled with bubbles. I don't remember much else but that. Her kitchen. She smelled like…chamomile.”
A wandering hand pulls his free one into yours, holding it until sunrise.
—-
You push Pollux and Castor out the door before the sun rises after a short stay at their mother’s house, and as the engine heats up, you and Luke watch them say goodbye to her with the both of you thinking of last words with your own. The both of you ward off the hellhounds biting off at your heels for a few hours like how you deceived the police the day previous, a purple Zippo lighter in hand whose smoke grants temporary illusions wafting through the car, and it smells like grapes (thanks D!). The kids sleep most of the way, none the wiser and heavy with sleep and their emotions of leaving everything they’ve ever known. Your eyes flicker to their sleeping heads in the rearview mirror, ready to take them home.
Hours later, Luke decides to make you stop at a diner to get you a bit of rest, get actual food, and let the twins pee, and your head is bobbing slightly in front of your plate of food once he brings them back from the bathroom.
“You wash your hands?” you say tiredly, both Pollux and Castor shaking wet hands in your face in response, making you giggle before sipping at your coffee. Luke cut you off from Redbull yesterday, saying he was scared for your liver and saying you needed to drink something else for a bit. He bristles at the sight of you drinking more caffeine, and you smile as the mug touches your lips.
“You’re gonna kill yourself one day. At least your dad drinks Diet Coke.”
“Not by choice, though what a way to go!” you joke, and the twins giggle as the both of them gulp down root beer like it’s essential to their being. Luke sighs at the idea of you having two minions under your belt, who you’ll most definitely train to raise hell on Camp Half-Blood now that you’ve taken more of the administrative side of things.
“Is he your boyfriend, sissy?” Pollux, or maybe it’s Castor pipes up, swinging his legs under the table and you smile at the sound of the nickname, noticing the dimple in his cheek. Luke chokes on his burger, coughing until you elbow him.
“He’s more of my ESA,” you remark, and he still doesn’t know what that is, so he raises an eyebrow like your brothers do as they peer up at you from across the table.
“What’s an ESA?” Castor, you realize, who has no dimples, spits out behind munches of a pickle.
“Luke’s my emotional support animal.”
He eats the rest of your fries despite your confidence in that response, grumbling exactly how a resistant dog would.
As you’re paying the bill, a large shadow looms over the sunny disposition of everyone at your table—and then Luke shouts for everyone to cover their eyes. Glass shatters over you, revealing a hellhound the size of a minivan, and it pounces toward the twins, large teeth bared at their throats. Before Luke can pull his sword out, you whistle sharply and the sound whizzes through the air like a bullet as you toss the Zippo lighter at him as he’s pushing the kids to the car. Though he’s reluctant to lose sight of you, he wards them with an illusion, locking the doors despite their cries and he runs headfirst back into battle, you with your thyrsus and him with his sword, back to back.
“They okay?” you heave, jabbing at the red-eyed canine between the eyes as Luke pulls around to slash it across the neck, coming out of the tussle unscathed as you both watch it keel over at your feet into golden dust minutes later.
“Yeah. Are you?”
Though you originally found it funny, Luke does perform his job well, getting you to calm down as he holds you to his chest until you can breathe normally again.
“Mhm. Just scared me.”
The two of you run out of the destroyed diner and into the warded-off car before the police show up hand in hand as you escape without detection. As he falls asleep, Castor dreams that you two are Bonnie and Clyde like in an old Western movie he was definitely not old enough to watch.
—-
You’re finally back on the Island now, only an hour away from Montauk and Luke is getting restless in the passenger seat. He pulls apples out of his backpack, wiping them off with his shirt as you sing along to a Taylor Swift song playing on the radio.
And maybe someday when we’re older, this is something we’ll laugh about…. Foolish one… you hum, tapping the wheel to fight off your exhaustion.
Pollux and Castor are using their fingers to pretend to hop over obstacles in the smudged windows, babbling about something they did in class last week. The son of Hermes pulls out a pocketknife he nicked from a gas station this morning as he starts to cut the apples into pieces, putting some into a ziploc bag for the boys to share, and you smile at him, wistful at your trip nearing its finish line. If you weren’t enemies before this like he said, it’s crazy to consider him your closest friend. But he is, isn’t he?
His knuckles nudge yours over the console, pressing an apple slice into your palm.
“You know, Castellan, you’re sweet when you want to be. Shame you and that sister of Annie’s didn’t work out.”
Luke scoffs at the reminder of his ex, slicing another piece off for you to eat. She did say he had wandering eyes…always looking for you. He’s not going to admit that though.
“I just know you like your apples cut. Saw you battling it out with a butter knife last week. Couldn’t help but notice,” he says lowly like it’s normal for people to be that considerate about others, normal for him to care about you like that, a constant push and pull between you two. 
“Hurts my teeth,” you mutter, and Luke chortles like you’ve told him something life-changing. Your hand bumps into his again, feeling nothing but his calloused fingers, and when you look up his cheek protrudes with the last slice.
“Tax,” he winks, and you’re delirious with this feeling that only he can bring you, almost comparable to being high.
The popstar’s voice continues to trill in the background, with my head in my hands, saying “How could I not see the signs?”
You both don’t realize you’ve stopped singing until Pollux pipes up asking for you to play Fireball by Mr. 305 himself.
—-
The car finally pulls into the driveway of the forest path and you’re all greeted by the campers holding blazing lanterns. Chiron, your father, and the nymphs are waving as the twins marvel at the fairy lights strung up along the way for a warm welcome.
“You’re alive,” your dad remarks, and this time he doesn’t say it in jest, sounding more relieved.
“I was in good hands,” you affirm, looking up at Luke amongst the noise of your cheering friends and the feeling that comes with calling this place home.
The boys are tucked in at your side, shyly looking at the crowd, Pollux holding your hand while Castor holds onto Luke’s, and Chiron calls your attention.
“I know you didn’t get your official announcement,” he starts, and you laugh at that, remembering the bubbles in the lake.
“Because I pulled a fast one on D.”
“Nonetheless, I would love for you to get recognized for your efforts. Dionysus. Storyteller, Herald of Chaos,” he continues by announcing your name, and then,” Pollux, and Castor– children of the grapevine, the God of Wine!”
The campers are kneeling and you look at Luke, who’s smiling from the ground beside you.
“Take a picture, trouble, it’ll last longer.”
“My children are home safe. And thank you, Castellan, for being a formidable companion. My deepest appreciation.” Mr. D sounds serious for once, pulling Luke up as he nods in respect.
It’s a crazy feeling to finally feel at home though you’ve been here for two years now. But you remind yourself quickly of why that is when you see Luke carrying Pollux on his shoulders as Castor latches onto his legs.
“You know, your family is a nightmare. You two hellions will fit right in,” he grins.
You can’t help but agree.
“I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you bathing in my eyes. I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you in my written words. The perfume of love cannot be concealed.” -Nizar Qabbani
ask to be added to general/luke taglists!
luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings
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summerbummin · 10 months
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I 100% subscribe to the idea that Tim and Damian are both autistic, just in the opposite direction which causes friction between them
They’re autistic in the way that pisses the other off
Tim messy room from executive dysfunction VS Damian neat room from need for order/cleanliness
Tim likes bland simple foods (to avoid being overwhelmed) VS Damian who needs lots of flavor or else feels like he’s eating cardboard (because he needs stimulation)
Tim is very sarcastic VS Damian who often doesn’t pick up on it and it flies over his head
Tim has never not masked a day in his life (which leads to his perpetual exhaustion) VS Damian who has very flat tone and facial expressions
Tim needs background noise to help him focus (music, rain, etc) VS Damian who needs complete silence to focus
Tim paces as a stim VS Damian who gets agitated by the distracting movements
Tim avoids animals because he can’t stand having drool/fur on him or his clothes VS Damian who adores animals and finds their presence comforting
They do have some similarities though
Both have special interests (although in different subjects)
Both are very particular about textures with clothing and bedsheets/blankets
Both favor dim lighting due to sensory issues
Both need alone time
Both hate other people being in their private space
Both touch starved and touch averse at the same time (and being very particular about what kind of touch is good vs bad, and what circumstances touch is allowed in, etc)
Both have Bruce as a father who is also autistic, and because of that diagnosis is delayed because they compare their “normalness” to him and other family members (who are also ND in someway)
Both can struggle to tell whether someone is joking/teasing or serious which leads to a lot of miscommunication between them (and the multiple past murder attempts do NOT help)
They do love and care about each other (though they will never admit it), but can only enjoy spending time together in small doses since a lot of their autistic traits are incompatible with the other’s. But they can also bond over their autism which is cute <3
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wonillaa · 11 months
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enhypen and their favorite ways to keep pictures of you
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heeseung and his wall decorated with pictures of you and you two together
* there’s always more every time you see him 😭
* his favorites are candid ones he takes of you
* eventually buys a camera bc he’s so dedicated
* “babe there’s so many” “i think there could definitely be more”
* when you really look at all of them there’s so many sneak pics of you sleeping or looking cute in his clothes or baggy pajamas
jay favorites every picture of you ever in his camera roll (the pictures of jungwon in his favorites crushes me) and his very expensive high quality camera is full of you
* has separate collections too
* he likes easy access to just scroll . and look at you
* he loves taking pictures and 90% of the ones he takes are of you
* kind of off topic but i think if you like getting your nails done oh he would LOVE that like he would take pics every time you get them done and have you pose and everything
*heart locket necklace with your picture inside </3
jake has you as his lock screen, home screen, and in the back of his phone case
* tbh you are just everywhere
* he is also very normal about it like he would just have picture frames of you up in his room
* shoves his phone in your face whenever he updates his lock screen
* “new favorite picture of you, look at how pretty you are”
* loves showing you off too like he will purposely set his phone down just for someone to ask about you and he gets so excited
* always posting you on his insta story with cute songs you both like
sunghoon usually just keeps you all in one collection but then has like blankets with your face on them LMAO yk what im talking about
* 100% has an i love my gf/bf shirt omg
* like majority of his pics of you are bad ones 😭
* so unserious but very much in love with you
* favorite pass time is staring at you and sighing dramatically
* “what am i gonna do you’re too pretty”
sunoo is a certified scrapbooker
* he is obsessed with making photo albums and scrapbooks of you and him
* you and the cute stickers he just loves it
* likes to listen to music and sit and look through them a lot
* also posts you on all his socials !!! he loves to show you off
* insufferable couple alert always pinching each others cheeks bc you both find each other so adorable
jungwon loves taking live photos since he has an iphone now :,(
* he likes drawing over pictures of you too, cat ears and whiskers and hearts all that 😞
* his mom helped him start a photo album with pictures of you together
* really loves taking videos of you
* he thinks they’re cuter and likes hearing your voice or laugh
niki and those .5 pictures are ALL he takes of you
* genuinely thinks they are so cute and funny he loves you so much
* feels like he would be more private with his relationship BUT
* non idol au you are seen all in his story highlights and probably tiktoks too lmao
* has a cute picture frame of you two on his nightstand
* takes at least one pic every time you’re together bc he loves looking back on the memories
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astrologydayz · 6 months
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ASTROLOGY FUCKING NOTES2🖤💀
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Nobody really knows a person with a 12th House Sun🤔🤔. They hide themselves really well, & project themselves as someone they're truly not. They don't do it on purpose, they're just so fucking private. My brother actually has this placement, and we're practically twins, but I still feel like I don't know him, AT ALL. They hide themselves, because they're afraid that their true selves won't be "enough"/won't be "liked". BUT OFC IT WILL, & IF NOT, THEN FUCK THEM, BABE.
MOON CONJUNCT/SQUARE SATURN people can hate being alone 4 the first two decades of their lives, but later learn 2 be their own best friend, & love it. They "mother themselves 2 life/back2life". They learned the hard way, that everything is better when u don't put your faith in just anybody. They also learned not 2 trust from a young age, because of their mother/father or both parents💀💔.
I've seen people say "that u can choose not to access that specific energy in your chart, if you don't want 2"🤣. Like u can choose 2 get a million dollars tmrw?, IF YOU WANT 2?🤣 come on. Natal charts are a tool 2 c who u are, why you developed that way/what “happens in your life”, and why you're here with the help of astrology. No matter the aspect, it will be present at some point. A chart never lies🔮🤷‍♀️.
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MOON SQUARE/QUINCUNX VENUS IN A MAN'S NATAL CHART tells us that he finds it hard 2 understand women. He has "problems" when it comes 2 feminine energies, &with the women he's surrounding himself with🤔. He can have a hate/love relationship 2/with women💋.
VENUS CONJUNCT/TRINE/QUINTILE MONY ASTEROID - 7782) IN SYNASTRY, will cause the asteroid person 2 provide the Venus person with a lot of material gifts👠🛍💄.
IDK why anybody would say that your MC has NOTHING to do with how u look/how people see u! Lol okay. My mentor must have been on drugs when she was taught everything + in all those 43 years she's been in practice then. gtfo. Let me give u an example. 👇🏼
I’ll just tell you everything I see with this aspect.
Kim K = Venus in Virgo in 9th house at 19 degrees - Libra degree) conjunct her MC in Virgo at 28 degrees - cancer degree). She's famous 4 her beautiful looks/people finding her beautiful. she always does things to look "YOUNGER, cosmetic procedures etc. 2 take years off! Growing a big following worldwide of young people looking up 2 her/her being idolized by them. Famous 4 being beautiful/4modelling/fashion/cosmetics - being in Venusian businesses/4 who she dates. she also takes after her MOM, with her looks!!! I know her mom was/is also her manager, & I would include this here, cuz u can actually see that, but I would have to go into details again. Idk if u would find that boring?? as I already wrote a lot. Thanks for making it this far😂.
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ASTEROID MEMORIA (1247) IN SYNASTRY can tell u why u feel like you’ve met the other person before, or what memories that r the most "memorable" with the other person🧡🪐🔮.
ASTEROID FANATICA - 1589) IN SYNASTRY tells u what really fascinates u about the other person/what u can become obsessed with, when it comes 2 the other person❕
IF U HAVE A SYNASTRY ASPECT/OR ASPECTS with someone, and u also have it in your natal chart = a very important person you're dealing with! They'll teach u whatever the aspect is/aspects are! And they're meant 2 be the one who teaches it 2u/ or meant 2 be the one who makes that aspect exist in your life. (good or bad).
VENUS OPPOSITE VERTEX/CONJUNCT ANTI-VERTEX IN SYNASTRY is co cute🥹, Vertex let Venus in2 their "private world". Venus is usually not the type Vertex person goes 4, but they’re mesmerised anyway!! “There’s just something unreal about Venus”.
KARMA ASTEROID - 3811) can tell you about your karma! Old karma/Karma you're creating etc. U can use it in in any chart u want2, natal charts, synastry charts, composite charts, Davidson Charts, solar return charts, lunar return charts, progressed charts, ANY CHART U WANT2 BABE!!🪐🤛💥🪐⛅☀🌊.
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BLACK MOON LILITH SQUARE/QUINCUNX ASC in a WOMAN'S CHART can show problems with both genders. She can feel left out, not apart of "the group", when it comes to women. And with men = men always trying to run up on her/trying her boundaries, &they're provocative af. People can't handle her here. She will not conform to anyone. She can feel pretty fucking alone in the way she goes about her day to day life. feeling like nobody will ever understand the struggles she has/the pain she's going around with. The key here is acceptance of ones self. She cannot change herself for others sake, she will never be happy. She'll be happy when she chooses herself, & the right people will flock 2 her, right after. They'll See her light, &will not put who she is down, but CELEBRATE. It can also be the complete opposite. She can be a people pleaser, & has internal fights with herself, every day about this. Trying 2 fit in with groups, dating men who's crossing her boundaries, all the time. She either fights people, or she fights herself. SHE HAS 2 STAY TRUE2HERSELF! There will always be people hating on her, no matter how she moves. FUCK THEM. People who are meant 2 be in her life will CELEBRATE HER!! Not put who she is down/make her change. People who can't understand her = she needs2 get them the fuck out.
NEPTUNE CONJUNCT ASC can show a person living in their own "delulu world". They're not really "there" - can be seen as the "dumb blonde". Neptune can cloud their mind, every single day. They're "different"/they change all the time. They can't really be "real" with people. Trying 2 always be friends with everyone, not really having their own opinions, following the pack etc. They can 100% people please.
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VALENTINE/AMOR/ 447) - 1221) CONJUNCT MC - They "look like love", &they also project it out. People think they're beautiful. But remember, even tho people know/c them like that = doesn't mean that they're really like that. That's just what they show off/how they're "known" in the eyes of the public/in their career/their surroundings💜.
SUN MAKING AN "EASY" ASPECT2 MOON does not mean that your parents like each other. I have this, and my parents literally can't stand each other. I've seen this more times than I can count. It's about your conscious ego&how you emotionally feel about the way u express yourself/with the way u "show your ego off" - "yin&Yang duality".
I HATE MOON SQUARE URANUS IN SYNASTRYYYYY. Uranus will pop in&out of the other person's life, as they desire2. The Moon person needs support&a feeling of being safe, &Uranus wants other things/aka not worried about the Moon person - Uranus is erratic. WHO GOT TIME4THAT?
MERCURY OPPOSITE NEPTUNE can show us a person being pretty good at lying/coming up with lies easily/Quickly. Having no problems with finding "excuses" 4 what they say/do, &can get other people in on it, 2 lie for them as well. It happens in periods tho, like on & off periods.
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Asteroids I always look at first: Nemesis - 128) Amor - 1221), Valentine - 447), Alma - 390), Destiny - 6583), Moira - 638), Eros - 433), Karma - 3811), Kama - 1387), Close - 54902), Apollo - 1862), Child - 4580), Compassion - 8990), Angel - 11911), Yes - 7707), Boda - 1487), DNA - 55555), Fast - 27719), Prey - 6157), Not - 2857), Casanova - 7328), Fox - 16248), Savage - 29837), Pholus - 5145), Fanatica - 1589), Priapus - h22), Sado - 118230), Medea - 212), Nessus - 7066), Dejanira - 157), Hazard - 9305), Mentor - 3451), Lysistrata - 897), Bilk - 4425 - using the other person 4 own material gain).
THANKS4READING BEAUTIFUL❤️🍒 Appreciate u, always.
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so like, I don't know the extent of what you write, but if you're ok with it, smutty/spicy head canons for Marshall x Reader? or, alternatively, if you don't write that stuff, first date HC? 💛
Anything for you <3 I’ve been wanting to make a smut for him for soooo long so dw about it
Tags: fem! Reader, smut, obviously, blood, general vampire stuff?, semi-public sex, also they do it unprotected, don’t do that irl pls, Marshall has a big dick 😊✋, this is not nearly as bad as my Judd smuts dw, I wanted to write minors dni but who am I kidding they’re gonna read this anyways 🧍🏻
Summary: idk, porn?
Author’s note: I have returned! Ngl I’ve been thinking of this request for so long, I was so giddy to write it lol 🤭🤭 I hope it’s okay, I feel like I need to work more with Marshall as a character lol but nonetheless I really enjoyed writing this. Eat up, children!
Marshall smut headcannons
Word count; 2,6K
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Smut under the cut!
He is SUCH a tease, omg 
Will tease you for hours, days if he’s in the right mood for it 
(which is most of the time, because he’s a little shit) 
He will act so coy about it as well; getting you to the brim of an orgasm MULTIPLE times or touching you in a way that he knows will turn you on and then just,,, get up and leave 
Oh, just a moment ago he was grinding you on his thigh and whispering the lewdest of lewd things into your ear? Too bad, now he’s up and going to get ice cream from the mart 
He loves to tease you in public too, more than anything in fact 
You’re drinking tea with Prince Gumball? Marshall got bored and thought it was funny to shove his hand under your skirt and into your panties, only to loudly point out how flustered you are 
Would go; “Oh, jeez. Y/n you don’t look so fresh, you okay there, babe?” 
If his cold fingers gently rubbing your clit didn’t feel so damn good, you’d definitely have kicked him 
Instead, though, you clasp a hand over your mouth and nod vigorously 
“Y-yes! Marshall, I’m just fine. Thanks,” You’d grit out, but the rest of your audience would find it hard to believe 
Gumball, bless the man, would insist you lay down for a while and grant you a guest room in the castle 
Bingo. Marshall’s plan fell through exactly how he wanted it to 
The Prince would quickly find out you’re fine, though, when the both of you return like 20 minutes later with mussed hair and you sporting a few bite marks that definitely weren’t present before 
Gumball would scold Marshall more than you, calling him something along the lines of “a hungry wild beast” while just telling you he thought you were better at controlling your urges lmfao 
Marshall is definitely quite the exhibitionist, however 
The two of you have fucked everywhere, all places in Aaa you could think off 
Unfortunately for Gumball, that means his castle has been subject to this quite a lot since he’s got A TON of secret rooms 
Marshall is more respectful at Fionna and Cake’s house though, he only convinced you to do it so much at the Candy Kingdom because he likes pissing Gumball off 
But on the topic of Marshall’s exhibitionism, he really likes getting you to be loud too 
It’s almost like he wants to be caught 😀✋
He’ll drag you around a corner or to the bathroom of a dingy bar or something and make you scream louder than you ever have in your life 
This is not so much a problem in the Nightosphere (yes, you have fucked there too) because I imagine there’s a lot of screaming sounds going on there anyways 
And either way, no one would dare disturb their Prince in his,, private activities 
He’d also really like to drink your blood while fucking 
Usually, he barely asks for it, only if he’s very sick or wounded because otherwise he just drinks the color of red 
But when he’s buried inside you and your nails are scratching up his back, he feels just that tad bit more animalistic 
Sometimes he won’t even ask ): 
Only because he knows you know he would never genuinely hurt you 
But if he’s already kissing and lapping at your neck, it’s soooo hard not to go that extra mile and sink his teeth in 
And your blood is heavenly to him 
Much better than drinking colours all the time fr
Ngl, your period would be love making season for him 
Sometimes, just the faintest smell of your blood is enough to get him sporting a boner 
But when it’s coming from you so steadily and from a place he already loves burying his face and nose in? Man’s a goner 
Please just,,, let him eat you out 🙏
He doesn’t even understand how you could find it gross, when it’s literally free blood he can drink from you without puncturing your skin 
He also LOVES making you cum, and get that taste of your blood mixed with cum.. mmm delicious 🤭🤭
Honestly, he kinda acts like he’s in heat on the week of your period 
But yk, orgasms makes the cramps go away, or so they say 
So take it like a champ lol 
He’ll fuck you in his bed, mostly 
His couch is kinda stuffy and hard bc he never uses it, only you and sometimes your friends when they come over does 
His bed is also nice and large, very good for violent vampire sex 
But let me present to you, an even better option; his bed in the Nightosphere 
Idc his mom tries ok, and has a bedroom set up for him there 
And it’s decorated very posh and such, but the bed is even better for a good round of fucking 
No okay but he rarely takes you there because when he does his mom is bugging the two of you for grandkids so hard— 
I’m honestly not sure if it’s even physically possible, but hey, his mom just wants a cute little grand baby 🫶🫶
Anyways 
As I stated before, Marshall is a man who thoroughly enjoys foreplay 
He’ll have you writhing and gasping before even filling you with his dick; 
His head was hung low, eyes focused on the spot where your bare pussy was dragging against the denim of his jeans. He tensed his thigh, corners of his mouth quirking up as he caught sound of your breath hitching.
You sniffled, softly whining his name and trying to rut yourself faster against him.
He looked up fully, fangs escaping his complacent smile and gently resting on his lower lip 
“Wow. You’re so greedy, baby,” He ‘tsked’, playfully scolding you. 
His hands kept their iron grip on your hips, rocking you back and forth slowly and dictating exactly how much pressure you got to feel on your throbbing clit each time 
You tried to glare at him, but then suddenly he was bouncing his leg and your glare became a sultry pout as you cried out for him 
Unusually, you were sitting on his couch this time around 
He had started by tricking you into watching a movie, clearly with other intentions in mind, but you fell right into his trap and happily obliged when he pulled you to his lap 
Cold breath ghosted over your neck as he had slowly inched his fingers into your sleeping shorts, edging you until you were completely cross eyed and just about to cum only to pull away and situate you on his thigh instead 
He had turned you around to face him, so he could observe your pitiful expressions as he kept giving you more but never enough 
He thoroughly enjoyed it, and now you had been subject to his cruel torture for nearly two hours 
He continued bouncing you, leaning in to get a long sniff of your neck 
You felt his long, wet tongue lap up and down right in the crook of your neck and his already tight grip on your hips became bruising 
He groaned softly, fangs lightly scraping your soft skin 
“Not fair,” he slurred. “You smell so fucking good.” 
You pushed yourself more into him, hands moving from his shoulders to the back of his head to cradle him against your neck 
With your fingers gently treading through his black hair, you barely managed to whisper; “T-take what you need, then.” 
Well aware that Marshall had now also fallen for his own trap, he complied easily 
He lifted you slightly with his arm around your waist, settling you to now grind on the bulge in his pants instead as his two fangs pierced your skin 
The feeling of his straining, but clothed, cock against your core was enough to momentarily distract you from the warm pain and pinch of Marshall’s bite 
With one hand locked around your waist, the other came to the back of your head to angle you to his liking, leaving your lower half to its own devices 
Maybe he was right when calling you greedy, because you instantly took the opportunity to sit down on his crotch 
His clothed dick spread your folds slightly, the zipper of his pants pressing on your clit and you moaned loudly— finally getting enough stimulation 
Marshall’s pupils were blown wide as he lapped up your blood, clutching you to him as tightly as he could without breaking your back as he started rutting his own ups up into you 
If felt heavenly, you quickly got used to his fangs in your skin and the full throb became somewhat of a pleasant ache in your neck 
Too caught up in his meal, he barely noticed when you came all over his pants, slick coating your inner thighs and now spilling over his crotch as well 
You whined loudly as you came, panting out a never ending mantra of your boyfriends name and shuddering all over from the intense fell of it all 
You clawed at his scalp, desperate for some kind of stability as you finally came down a bit 
However, Marshall was still rutting into you, with no intention of stopping, keeping the fire in your belly raging even though you just came 
When he finally managed to pull away from your neck, lower face and cheeks smeared with blood, he wasted no time unbuckling his jeans 
You cried out in relief when he lifted you again, lining you up with his long, pale cock, completely stiff and leaking 
The drunkenly satisfied meal that escaped you when he finally nudged into you was music to his ears
After hours of waiting, you ached to feel him stretching your walls 
He shuddered at the feeling, too, your gummy walls always fit him so snuggly he was surprised he could even fit inside
Your previous orgasm along with the drawn out teasing had made you beyond sensitive, your head was spinning, mouth parting in delirious moans as you finally, finally felt the fullness of his dick inside you 
He hissed when you gently rocked yourself against him, walls fluttering around his cock. “Easy there,” he breathed, mouth returning to that smug smile he bore before, this time coated in blood. “Aren’t you gonna be a good girl?” 
You whined helplessly, hugging him to you and burrowing your face in the crook of his neck 
He felt you nod against him in confirmation, gently licking at his skin and biting at his shirt to keep yourself sane 
He leaned back on the couch, cradling you to his chest and starting a slow and torturous pace of his hips 
You moaned each time he buckled upwards, meeting his thrust with a desperate one of your own 
He breathed out a laugh. “You’re so goddamn wet, it’s all over my pants, sweetheart.” He commented condescendingly, nuzzling your hair with his bloodied face 
It got in your hair, it was also still leaking from your neck but you didn’t care 
All you could manage was a small huff in response against Marshall’s collarbone, clutching his T-shirt in your hands 
His statement was true, though 
You were absolutely leaking on his cock, it dribbled down his shaft, creating a small puddle underneath you on his pants and the couch 
Gently, you lifted your head to mouth at his neck, then his jaw 
“More.” You muttered, your voice cracked slightly and it came as a whisper, but you knew Marshall’s supernatural senses would pick up on it anyways 
He cackled in response. “You can handle more?”
Vigorously you nodded and before you could even register it, Marshall had you on your back on the couch 
You looked up at him hazily, fingers trailing the few marks you had left on his neck, all of which was already beginning to heal 
He leaned down to kiss you as he started pounding into you, making the couch shake and knock against the table besides it with each movement 
He hoisted your leg up, bringing the left one over his shoulder and dove into you deeper, enough to make you feel him all the way in your lower belly 
When he was done kissing you, leaving you breathless and your lips swollen, he nosed down your neck until he found his bite marks and resumed his feasting 
You tightened and fluttered around him, flailing as the liquid flames in your belly grew until they became almost unbearable 
You tried pleading with Marshall, but all that came out of your mouth was incoherent mewls of his name or loud moans 
He was close too, you could tell by the way he was clutching you, his demon-like nails had grown and was leaving small cuts and indents where he was holding you 
He groaned into you, deeply and animalistic and it vibrated through your whole body in the most pleasant of tingling sensations 
That was enough to tip you over the edge, and without warning you creamed on his dick, walls fluttering and constricting so tightly around him he almost found it hard to pull back out
He took a sharp intake of air, departing from your neck for only a moment to glance down and watch the way your pussy was milking him 
He moaned a little at the sight, licking his lips and picking up speed
You could only just lay there as his thrust became inhumane, you knew he was holding back when you two fucked, but it never failed to surprise you when he took use of some of his actual strength 
Something in the sofa cracked, the sound of wood splitting barely reaching your sex-drunk mind as Marshall fucked you rough and fast 
His own thrusts became somewhat sloppy as he used you to chase his end, he watched your face intently, eyebrows knitted in concentration 
When you finally opened your eyes, locking eyes with him and presenting him with the most fucked-out expression he had ever seen you hold, he came 
He didn’t bother to pull out, instead he held your hips tightly to his, releasing his load inside you 
You softly sighed in delight, body numb and heavy 
It took a while for him to pull out, but when he finally did, he went straight to nuzzling into you again 
He hugged you closely, supporting you against his chest as he sat up, lifted his hips and pulled his pants back up 
Marshall is surprisingly good at aftercare, I mean, after all that teasing he better be treating you right after 
He’s always very cuddly, and makes sure to clean you up properly after
He starts with you always, his own needs come in seconds after he’s done with you 
He’s looking at you all lovestruck and starry eyed too, with a goofy lil smile on his face, adorable 
He tugs you against him, preferably in his bed, and helps you clean up the puncture wounds with his tongue and a wet towel 
Awe, he’s so cute (,: 
He just wants to make you feel loved 🥰🥰
Especially cause he knows humans are not build for the kinda sex he’s build for, he’s always a bit scared he’s breached your limits too much or exhausted too much 
And I mean, yes, he has, but you thoroughly enjoy it so.. 
No okay I know I just said he’s soft in the post-but clarity, but sometimes he can also be a teasing little shit 
Depending on how loud he made you moan or how much he got you to embarrass yourself 
In the instance above, he’s pretty soft, but don’t be fooled, man’s is a demon after all 🫢
He’s so hot pls 🥲✋
He’s been needing his own smut for so long too oml,,, I hope you enjoyed it.
Sorry this is also not as fluffy as a first date thing would be, but if it’s something y’all want I could write something about that too. Thanks for the read! 🙏
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jamespotterismydaddy · 6 months
Text
Lord Husband (Chapter 5)
cregan x reader
word count: 1,606 words
series masterlist
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A private carriage. You thank the gods for small victories. Being locked in a small box for a month with nobody but Cregan Stark for company would’ve been the thing that pushed you over the edge of insanity. Or, you likely would have killed him.
Perhaps it was more his safety they are concerned over rather than my comfort. You think to yourself.
The preparations for your departure have been immensely extravagant and your mother has already commissioned ten new dresses and five nightgowns just to tie you over until the royal family flies in for the wedding. You’ll spend another whole month courting Cregan (in Winterfell this time) before the ceremony and you don’t know if you want the spectacle to be drawn out more to prolong your unmarried freedom or if you just want it to be over with.
You ignore the thoughts as you make your way down to the courtyard with Baela and Rhaena on each arm and Ser Robert trailing after you.
“I’m going to miss you awfully.” Rhaena says sentimentally. 
“You’ll have to write to me with every bit of court gossip. Gods know that the boys won’t do a very good job at keeping me filled in.” You roll your eyes dramatically, trying to keep it all lighthearted.
“You’ll write to us plenty as well, tell us all about the joys of marriage.” Baela says with a little smirk.
“I hardly believe there’ll be many joys to rave about.” You say with a scoff.
“I wouldn’t be so sure. From what i’ve heard, northern men are very good with… their tongues.” The elder twin says scandalously. You think you hear Ser Robert choke on water from behind you.
“Baela!” Rhaena scolds but she giggles too.
“I don’t want his tongue anywhere near me.” You say as you shoot her a glare.
“Then you are as dumb as you are pretty.” You roll your eyes at this.
“His assumed skills don’t matter if I do not like him.” You say primly.
“You don’t have to like him to appreciate the look of him.” Baela says as she lifts a hand to inspect her nails.
“I agree. You know what they say about men with large hands…” Rhaena trails off and you glare at her as well.
“Do not team up against me.” You say.
“We are only trying to help you to look on the bright side. You’ll be with him for the rest of your lives.” Rhaena says softly. It’s a thought that you don’t really want to think about.
“Perhaps after I give him a son, we will become estranged and he will allow me to retire to Dragonstone.” You reply wistfully. The twins exchange a look.
“And what of your son?” 
You sigh and say, “Any child I have will be his, not mine.”
“But they will also be Valyrians. They could be dragonriders. They will need a Valyrian to teach them.” Baela says. The idea of a child with a dragon, not knowing its history, not knowing how to care for it, is a sad thought.
“Motherhood is as noble a path as any.” Rhaena says, in an attempt to make you feel better.
“Not if it’s forced.”
There is an awkward silence after that and you feel bad, being the one who caused it. Your closest friends, your sisters, they only wanted to comfort you, to make you excited about the journey and you’ve made them feel bad for trying.
“I do quite like some of the dresses her Grace commissioned for me, though.” You say with a little grin and both of the girls light up.
“Oh yes, they’re all so beautiful. I don't know if I could even pick a favourite.” Rhaena gushes.
“I can.” Baela says. “The deep maroon velvet one. Ugh, the sleeves on it are to die for. It’s far too hot to be wearing such fashion in King’s Landing. We’d be sweltering.” Baela pouts a little at that but then grins. “You’ll be the icon of the North when it comes to gowns.”
“I intend to be the icon of the North when it comes to everything.” You say with a faux level of superiority as you come around to the stairs that go down to the courtyard.
There are many nobles waiting to see you off and Cregan Stark stands right at the front, waiting for you and looking as disgustingly handsome as ever. You ignore him and make your way to the ladies who won’t be accompanying you first, hugging them and trying not to tear up. You hope Cregan is offended by how you brush by him. Then, you reach your siblings. Your goodbyes to your family are short and proper, you’ll see them at the wedding anyhow. Your goodbye with your mother is… tense if nothing else. 
You turn to Cregan at this point, knowing that you need to have a public interaction before you get into your carriage. Even if you enjoy being the centre of attention, you don’t want to waste the creation of gossip if you’re not there to see how it all goes down.
Lord Stark bows deeply. “Princess, I am glad to be accompanying you to your new home.”
“I thank you for your protection on the long trip that lies ahead of us.” You say in response, your voice cordial and dripping with charisma. 
“It is my honour.” He holds out a hand and you take it, allowing him to help you up the steps, into the carriage. Your two handmaidens follow after you. When the door shuts, you sigh, ready for the long trip to be over already.
~~~
As the trip properly starts, you begin to remember how much you hate carriage rides. Short ones are usually fine but you’ve been sitting in the wheeled contraption for hours now and it's making you awfully dizzy.
“Your Grace? Are you well?” Rose, your handmaiden, speaks up. She looks concerned for your state.
“I am fine. I perhaps just need to rest for a moment.” You say, a bit breathlessly, as you shift to lay down, resting your head in your other handmaiden’s lap.
“Are you sure, princess? You look a little green.” Safia speaks up as she begins to stroke your hair.
“It’s this stupid carriage. And the road for seven hells. How can it be so uneven?” You groan and Safia starts to rub your temples.
“It is awful, I know.” She soothes but her kind words don’t help. You just feel more and more nauseous.
“Oh gods.” You groan.
“Princess, are you going to be sick?” Rose asks, and to your dismay, you believe you are about to be sick.
You nod a little and she stands, banging on the roof. “Stop the carriage!” She calls out to the driver.
Before you’re even fully stopped, Rose pushes open the door and Safia helps you to your feet. You stumble out of the carriage and unceremoniously, onto the grass. You fall to your hands and knees, breathing heavily. You thank the gods when you don’t actually throw up and the churning of your stomach begins to slow with the help of a stationary position and fresh air.
“What is happening? Is the princess alright?” 
Oh gods why does he have to see this? You think to yourself as the young Lord Stark’s voice rings through the air.
“The movement of the carriage makes her unwell, my lord.” Safia says.
“Oh of course.” He murmurs and wanders off for a moment. You feel hopeful that he just decided to leave you but he’s back before you know it and kneeling by your side. “Here, eat this.” He says and gives you a gentle smile as he holds out ginger for you.
“Why would I eat tha-” He seems to know that you were going to kick up a fuss so as you are mid-sentence, he puts the piece of ginger in your mouth.
“Chew.” He says simply. Your eyes are wide and you want to refuse but you also don’t necessarily want to spit it out like a spoiled child. So, you apprehensively begin to chew the root, trying not to make a face at the peppery flavour. “Good.” He speaks again. “You’ll feel better now.” You think he looks far too pleased as he stands up in front of you and offers you his hand. You begrudgingly take it and he pulls you up with so much ease that you hardly even had to try and stand.
You brush your skirts off, feeling spiteful even if Cregan just helped you.
He just looked far too smug about it. You assure yourself as you make your way back into your carriage. 
Before the door is closed, your betrothed speaks up, “Perhaps I could join you, princess. Just to make sure you’re feeling better.” The smile he gives you is almost sneaky, as if there is some sort of hidden innuendo in there. You feel that he enjoys toying with you.
“That would be terribly improper.” You speak only loud enough for him to hear.
“Yes, of course.” He says but the cheeky grin never fades, even as he walks to his horse.
“Strange.” Rose says. “Most lords would enjoy the comforts of a carriage themselves.”
“Perhaps it would be an excuse to sneak into here.” Safia says scandalously. 
“Then he shall be perpetually disappointed.” You say as you settle into your seat.
The procession begins to move again and through all the bumps and uneven roads, and as more time passes, the nausea that plagued you never returns. 
taglist(comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy
Lord husband: @feyres-fireheart @possiblyafangirl @hb8301 @marihoneywk @youn-jo @velvet-spider @janelongxox @ninastyless @nyctophilic0vitnir @m-a-s-h-k-a @delicious-xx @weepingfashionwritingplaid @happinessinthebeing @betelrus @joliettes @black-swan-blog27 @mxtokko @valeridarkness @karolalolla @satan-s-ass @synindoodles
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statusexile · 6 months
Text
Michelin Star Treatment and My Body's On The Menu
Summary: You work as a naked sushi model in a high-end Japanese restaurant and professionalism was the name of the game. But when Ghost and Konig walked through the door, your composure was put to the test.
Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader x Konig
Warnings: afab!reader, dub con, exhibitionist, nipple play, fingering, squirting, wakamezake, mask kink, reader goes by she/her pronouns.
Word count: 1,804 words
NSFW. MDNI!
a/n: Nyotaimori (女体盛り) is the Japanese practice of serving sashimi or sushi from the naked body of a woman. This fic probably wouldn’t be 100% accurate to the real-life practice because I’m not Japanese. Nonetheless, feedback and suggestion are always welcome, along with reblogs and likes. Thank you for reading! ❤️
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Working as a naked sushi model for a high-end restaurant was never your dream. Your friends and family always find your job as peculiar. They always ask you why would you want to be a human sushi platter for wealthy people. While some people see your job as an art form and others think it’s degrading to women. You didn’t care about their opinions anyway; it kept food on the table and paid your bills and that was all that really mattered to you.
Still feeling a bit groggy from the long shift, you sat down on a bench in the fitting room and began counting your tip money. The day had been long, but the customers were generous, you are pleased with the amount of money you have made today. Even though one group of customers that you got earlier were a bunch of drunk and obnoxious business men. They’re not trying to grope you or anything, but they’re just really rowdy and it hurts your head so bad. Unfortunately, you can’t say anything because you're not allowed to speak while you're on the job.
You get up from the bench and begin tidying your hair and make-up. There’s only one more reservation for the day: a table for two people. Perhaps they’re a couple, you think to yourself. At least it shouldn't be as disastrous as the earlier group, as you walked out from the changing room into the private dining room that was booked by the pair. The interior of the room was opulent. Soft lighting and the sounds of waterfall provided a serene atmosphere, while traditional Japanese motifs of cherry blossom and zen gardens adorned the walls. The restaurant was clearly designed to create a serene and elegant ambience that would enhance the dining experience for the guests.
You took off your kimono, leaving you bare, and climbed onto the dining table, lying down on top of it. The sushi chefs began decorating your body with a variety of sushi and sashimi, placing them on top of leaves that had been sanitized to prevent direct contact with your skin. After that, they covered your nipples and your genital area with flowers. And now all you have to do is wait for the customer to arrive at the restaurant.
It doesnt take very long for the pair to arrive. They’re two tall, muscular men in military attire, and you can see the outlines of their muscles on their clothes. Both of them are wearing masks: one is wearing a skull-printed mask, while the other is wearing a draped style mask.
Your heart skipped a beat when the two men entered the dining room. You’ve always been intrigued by masked men - there's something alluring and mysterious about them. You didn’t know if they were hot or ugly underneath their masks, it doesn’t matter to you, it was the mystery that made you so intrigued and turned on about them.
They sat down on the tatami and ordered sake from the waitress; it didn’t take long for the waitress to come back with their drinks. They began eating immediately, taking some of the sushi that was placed on top of your stomach. The dinner went well so far. You could hear both men talking about their jobs in the military - the one with the skull-printed mask spoke with a deep, husky British accent, while the one with the draped mask spoke with a thick German accent. Soon you learned their names were Ghost and Konig.
They spoke about an upcoming mission, using fancy words, code names, and military slang that you didn't understand. But all you could focus on was their sexy voices - it was as if they were trying to turn you. You couldn't do anything about it - you couldn’t even move your body an inch while you were still with the customer. So, all you could do was stare at the ceiling, trying to not let it bother you.
They were nearly finished with their meals, and you felt a bit disappointed because it means they would leave soon - but you didn't know that the real fun was about to begin.
Suddenly, you felt Konig’s fingers graze your thigh. You were surprised by his sudden action - this felt so wrong that you should have stand up and called the manager at this point - but you were already so turned on at his touch. You could feel a shiver running down your spine.
“So beautiful,” Konig mutters so himself, still grazing his fingers on your thigh, “Shall we have some fun with her, Lieutenant?”
“Your call, Colonel. I’m down if you’re down.” Ghost replied while he stares at you. You could only see his eyes, but you could feel the lust in his stare. It looks like he’s going to devour you whole.
“Alright then,” Konig said as he removed the flower that covered your fold. You’re already so turned on at this point and his action made it even worse.
“Clench your thigh real tight, schatz.” You didn't know why, but you immediately complied with his command, so you clenched your thighs as tight as possible. You could see Konig pouring the sake between them. You could feel the cold liquid grazing your hot skin as you let out a soft mewl from the sensation as it’s slowly running down in between your thighs. He lifts his mask up and starts slurping the sake directly from your crotch, you could feel his soft lips touching your fold. This is so inappropriate, and you could definitely get fired if your supervisor found out that you allowed a customer to do something like this. But your body could only succumb to his action. You’re already way too deep in it anyway and there’s no turning back at point. “So delicious,” Konig said after he finished drinking, wiping his own lips with his hands. “Your turn, Lieutenant.” he added as he passed the sake bottle to Ghost. Ghost did the same thing Konig did earlier. He poured some more sake between your clenched thighs, slurping them, but suddenly after he finished drinking, he opens your legs a bit and give a single lick at your labia. You let out a moan, still trying to keep quiet, but now it’s getting harder. “She’s indeed delicious, Colonel.” he said to Konig in a satisfied tone, “Don’t worry love, we’re gonna make you feel so good” he added. Konig started to remove the flowers that covered your nipples, you could sense the chilly air gently brushing against them.
Konig and Ghost scooch over from their seats, and now their faces facing your breasts. “Open your legs real wide for us, sweetheart. Please, allow us to return the favor for your hospitality this evening.” Konig hums in your ear. Both of them slowly opens your legs, revealing your now dripping cunt that’s been covered with your own liquid and the sake from earlier.
“Shall we enjoy the dessert for the night, Colonel?” “After you, Lieutenant.”
Suddenly, both of them start latching to your nipples, as Konig’s hand starts rubbing your damp cunt with his calloused hand. You let out a loud gasp as you jerk your head back from the sudden sensation. One of Ghost’s hands pinning you down, ensuring you stay still in your place. You tried to wiggle your body, but his hand was so strong, keeping you in your position.
“Be quiet, love. We don't want anyone outside to know we're doing this, do we?” Ghost purred in your ear in between sucking your breast. You could only nod at his words, feeling absolutely lost in the pleasure they’re giving to you. Konig starts to insert two of his fingers inside you and start thrusting them. You bit your lips so hard they’re probably bleeding at this point but you didn’t even pay attention to it as you lost to the overstimulation and pleasure.
“So fucking wet for us” Konig whispered while his mouth is still latching to your breast, now he’s using his thumb to play with your clit and adding another finger inside you. You've already surrendered to them, letting them do whatever they want to you at this point. You could feel your holes stretched thin with his fingers as if he shoved his entire fist inside you because of how thick his fingers are.
Your body shudders as they keep sucking your breasts without mercy and Konig finger-fucking you relentlessly. You’re trying so fucking hard to stay quiet, only letting out soft moans and pants, making everything even more painful than it already is.
“I could feel you’re clenching around my fingers, schatz. Come on, I know you’re so close. I know you can do it.” Konig whispers seductively in your ear. You could feel your brain becoming mush. Your body feels like it's about to explode as you start mumbling nonsense words. You didn't care at this point if anyone outside could hear it, you just want to cum so fucking bad.
It only took a few more thrusts of Konig’s fingers before you cum, your body shakes violently and your vision turns static from the orgasm he gave you. He still thrusting them over and over, milking your orgasm dry. You squirted all over the table, basically drenching the entire surface with your cum.
“Ah, there you go… I know you can do it. Was für ein gutes Mädchen” Konig finally gave one last thrust and pulls out his fingers from your cunt. Both of them give your nipples on last lick after finally letting them go. Your body seems like it can't stop trembling. “So good, so fucking good...” you mumbled softly, your voice is still shaking.
“I guess we have to clean up this mess. We can’t let your supervisor know you’re doing this with customers.” Ghost chuckled as he took a couple of napkins to clean up the mess you made on the table. It takes you around five minutes before you're able to regain your composure.
Both of them stand up from their tatami. Konig pulls out his wallet from his back pocket, takes out some money, and slips it into your hands, giving you a very generous tip.
“Compliment to the chef, the food was delicious.” Ghost said as he opened the door, and both he and Konig went out from the dining room, leaving you alone.
After a few more minutes, finally manage to sit and starts counting the tip that Konig gave you, which basically covers two months’ worth of rent. You can only laugh to yourself, still confused by everything that happened earlier, but you are very satisfied at the same time.
Maybe this is the best job that you could ever have, after all.
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