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will-wood-confessions · 7 months
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i once spent an entire 4 hour plane ride doing nothing but listening to litwtc and playing miitopia
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theblackestofsuns · 2 years
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“Cast Portrait”
ZVRC #2 (April 2022)
Chris Ryall and Ashley Wood
Image Comics
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smashpages · 10 months
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Out this week: Tales of Szypense #1 (Image, $4.99):
Chris Ryall and Ashley Wood’s publishing imprint revives the “split book” approach with this new series that features stories by both, along with Nelson Daniel, T. P. Louise and more.
See what else is arriving at your local comic book store this week.
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bastillemxfans · 2 years
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Happy birthday to Woody, the best drummer in Bastille 😝🥁, the biggest fan of sports ⚽️🏏and the man with the most gorgeous hair ever 💇‍♂️✨
Hope he has an amazing day! 🥳🎊
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graphicpolicy · 1 year
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Get ready for two Tales of Syzpense in June
Get ready for two Tales of Syzpense in June #comics #comicbooks
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torteen · 3 months
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This advertisement is for Infinity Alchemist, a dark academia fantasy about a quest that leads three young alchemists toward dangerous truth, legendary love, and extraordinary power from the bestselling and award-winning author of Felix Ever After, Kacen Callender.
The art featured in this image is by Chris Sack. 
WHAT’S IT ABOUT
Defy All Limits.
For Ash Woods, practicing alchemy is a crime. Only an elite few are legally permitted to study the science of magic—so when Ash is rejected by Lancaster College of Alchemic Science, he takes a job as the school’s groundskeeper instead, forced to learn alchemy in secret. When he’s discovered by the condescending and brilliant apprentice Ramsay Thorne, Ash is sure he's about to be arrested—but instead of calling the reds, Ramsay surprises Ash by making him an offer: Ramsay will keep Ash's secret if he helps her find the legendary Book of Source, a sacred text that gives its reader extraordinary power. As Ash and Ramsay work together and their feelings for each other grow, Ash discovers their mission is more dangerous than he imagined, pitting them against influential and powerful alchemists—Ash’s estranged father included. Ash’s journey takes him through the cities and wilds across New Anglia, forcing him to discover his own definition of true power and how far he and other alchemists will go to seize it.
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slu7formen · 1 month
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MDNI. luke x drunk!reader
luke decides to take care of you when he notices how drunk you are a party, you didn’t know how much you needed him until he showed you so.
warnings: drunk!reader, protective!luke, lil violence, use of yn, allusion to s3x
reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes
₊˚⊹♡
The melody from a stolen radio emerged through the humid night air, barely audible over the loud laughter and shouted conversations of the older campers reunited in the woods. The stars offered little illumination, replaced by the flickering glow of a bonfire fueled by firewood. The air was heavy and hot, filled with the scent of chips, spilled beer, and teenage rebellion. This was a rare ocasion for the senior campers, a chance to forget about monstrous threats and drakon training for a night.
Luke nestled in the shadows of a nearby oak tree, holding a way too warm can of beer to drink now, and listened to his friends, trade their usual brand of mischievous gossip. A comfortable camaraderie settled over him, a welcome respite from the weight of responsibility that pressed down on him as a counselor.
"Did you see Lucy practically drooling over Malcolm after Ally dumped him?" Travis snickered, nudging Connor with his elbow.
Connor snorted, barely containing his laughter. "Ouch, sister drama. Ally must be thinking about drowning her in cheap perfume"
Luke chuckled, shaking his head. The Aphrodite cabin drama was always entertaining, even if a little predictable. He glanced around the clearing, his gaze sweeping over the other campers. A group of Ares cabin warriors were engaged in a play-fight, throwing each other to the ground as they groaned and laughed. He spotted Katie Gardner, daughter of Demeter, tending to a small patch of wildflowers. Even at a forbidden party, Katie couldn't resist nurturing something green.
"Hey, Luke" Chris nudged him, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You gonna tell us your big secret yet? We all know there's something going on between you and yn"
Luke's smile faltered slightly. "There's nothing to tell" he replied noncommittally, taking a swig of his warm beer, the taste bitter in his tongue. “We’re just friends”
"Oh, come on" Connor pressed, a sly smirk spreading across his face. "We see the way you look at her. Like she's the only girl alive."
Luke rolled his eyes, but a blush crept up his neck under the teasing of his friends. Suddenly, a melodic laugh cut through the din, a sound that sent a jolt through him. It was your laugh, bright and carefree, a stark contrast to the usual reserved demeanor you displayed around camp. He followed the sound, his gaze landing on you amidst a group of campers near the edge of the clearing. But it wasn't your presence that triggered a tightening in his chest. It was the hulking figure of Ares cabin resident, Mark, who stood far too close to you, his arm draped around your shoulder as he leaned in to whisper something that caused another burst of laughter from you.
A sting of jealousy pierced Luke´s insides. He knew it was silly. He and you were nothing more than friends. But still, that doesn’t mean he’s gonna like it when he sees you with some other guy. He watched as you swayed slightly, the red plastic cup clutched loosely in your hand a clear indication of your intoxicated state. Your usually sharp eyes held a glazed look, a vulnerability that made his protective instincts flare.
He saw you and Mark detach from the group, heading deeper into the shadowy woods. There was a part of him that urged him to let you be, to let you enjoy your night. But another, more primal part couldn't shake the image of you, intoxicated and unaware, disappearing into the woods with someone like Mark.
Sighing, Luke pushed himself off the tree trunk. “I´ll be back in a minute” he says to his friends, leaving his can on Travis´ hand. He weaved through the tight and large group of campers, his purpose hardening with each step. You stumbled on a protruding root, giggling at your own clumsiness. Mark steadied you, his hand lingering on your waist in a way that made Luke’s right eye twitch.
"Hey, yn" Luke's voice cut through the air, catching your attention. You turned, your face splitting into a wide, drunken smile.
"Luuuke!" you slurred, swaying towards him with open arms, nearly knocking him over with the force of your hug. Ignoring the glare Mark shot his way, Luke enveloped you in a hug, his nose crinkling at the distinct scent of fruit punch and something a little stronger.
"Whoa there" he chuckled as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He could smell the sugary sweetness of your lip gloss. "Easy, tiger."
You giggled, your head lolling against his shoulder. You mumbled something nonsensical, giggling at a private joke only you seemed to understand. Your mascara, usually neatly applied, had smudged slightly at the corners of your eyes. Despite the obvious effects of the alcohol, you were undeniably beautiful, the firelight casting warm shadows on your face. "M'so happpy you´re here! Dance with me!" you yelled as you lift your arms, your voice thick with intoxication. Luke felt a pang of worry. You were far too drunk to be alone in the woods with a boy you barely knew.
"Seems like you've had a few too many tonight, huh?"
"Just having a little fun, Luke" you pouted, the way you said his name sounded funny. "Don't be a all couns-, counselor"
He glanced over your shoulder towards Mark, whose jaw was clenched tight. "Yeah, well, maybe a little too much fun" Luke countered, his voice gaining a hint of firmness, but as softly as possible. "Maybe it's time for you to head back to your cabin, yeah?”
"But Mark was showing me…" you began, but were cut off by Mark's snide voice.
"Mind your own business, Castellan" He growled. Luke narrowed his eyes at the Ares camper, a dangerous glint flickering within them. “This doesn´t concern you”
"She's clearly not in control of herself" Luke retorted, his voice low and cold. "Someone needs to make sure she gets back safely. And it won't be you."
Mark scoffed, a humorless sound. "Says who? Why don't you worry about yourself, Castellan?"
The barb hit a nerve. Luke wasn't drunk, but the implication stung. He wasn't about to get into a debate about his tolerance with this ridiculously big guy.
"Look," Luke said tightly, trying to keep his voice calm, "I'm not trying to cause any trouble. I just—"
"Just what?" Mark interrupted, stepping forward, his chest puffing out in a show of dominance. "Going to swoop in and save the damsel in distress? You think she needs rescuing?"
He shot a pointed look at you, who seemed to be lost in your own world, giggling at some private joke as you covered your mouth. The sight of it only fueled Luke's simmering anger.
"Whether she needs help or not isn't the point" Luke growled, his voice strained. "The point is, she's clearly intoxicated and shouldn't be alone with someone she barely knows."
"Barely knows?" Mark echoed, a sneer twisting his lips. "We were just getting to know each other, weren't we, yn?"
He turned to you, his voice dripping with false sweetness. You blinked at him owlishly, then shrugged, a nonsensical answer escaping your lips.
The sight of it was too much for Luke. His fists clenched at his sides. He knew Mark was deliberately trying to get a rise out of him, but it was working. The implication that his concern was fueled by jealousy rather than genuine care was infuriating.
“Now if you excuse us…” Mark pointed out, pulling you to him by your hip as he tried to walk away with you.
But Luke´s had enough. That was the last straw. In a blur of motion, Luke lashed out. He lunged forward, his fist connecting with Mark's nose with a satisfying crunch. Mark stumbled back, roaring in pain, a hand flying up to his now-bleeding nose.
You, however, seemed oblivious to the sudden violence. You blinked at the scene in confusion, your brow creased in a frown as you looked at Mark. "What the-…" your words slurred, lost in the midst of your intoxication.
But before you could form a complete sentence, a wave of fury washed over you. You turned around, shoving Luke hard in the chest, sending him stumbling back a step. "What the fuck, Luke!" you shrieked, your voice laced with a venom that startled him. "Why do you always have to be all over me!?"
The words hit Luke like a physical blow. He wasn't angry at you, not truly. You were clearly out of it, the world a dizzy sight because of whatever it is that you drank. But the accusation stung. Here he was, trying to protect you from a situation you couldn't navigate in your current state, and you saw it as him controlling you.
"yn," he started again, trying to choose his words carefully. "I just-"
"Just what?" you shot back, your voice thick with slurred defiance. "Just what gives you the right to decide what I do?"
Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. Luke's heart ached. You were upset, confused, and vulnerable – a dangerous combination amplified by the alcohol coursing through your veins.
You crossed your arms over your chest as you sniffed, walking past him fast, head down and all pouty. “You ruined everything” you mumbled, more to yourself than directly to him, but he still heard. Luke watched you go, a wave of despair washing over him. He'd messed up.
He glanced back at Mark, who was clutching his nose and glaring at him with a mixture of fury and grudging respect. "Look, man" Luke sighed, the fight momentarily draining out of him. "That was a cheap shot, I´m sorry"
Mark grunted, wiping blood from his face with the back of his hand. "Yeah, well, you got a nice fist, I must say."
There was a hint of grudging respect in his voice, perhaps because he couldn't deny that Luke's concern for you seemed genuine, or because if he recieved another punch, he'd need his nose surgically reattached.
"I wasn´t gonna do much either" he tried to defend himself. “She can´t even walk straight” Mark mumbled, ponting at you, then he turned away and disappeard into the shadows.
Luke glanced back at your retreating figure. He knew he needed to fix things with you, but for now, all he could do was hope you wouldn't hold his overprotective actions against him. He took a deep breath and started following you, determined to apologize and explain his actions once you were sober enough to listen.
Your walk was more of a drunken sashay, hips swaying precariously with each wobbly step. Luke watched you stumble away, a knot of frustration tightening in his gut. He knew you weren't thinking straight, the alcohol muddling your judgment and turning his concern into a controlling act in your eyes.
"yn" he called after you, his voice laced with a pleading he rarely used. "Wait a minute, please."
You ignored him, your focus solely on putting distance between you and Luke. He quickened his pace, catching up beside you.
"Seriously, stop it" Luke's voice was closer now. "You're going to fall on your face if you keep walking like that."
You stopped short, whirling around to face him. “Will you stop following me? This is embarrasing enough, Luke”
"Embarrassing?" Luke echoed, his voice rising in exasperation. "You're practically falling over drunk! You can't just walk around like this."
"I can handle myself" you slurred, puffing out your chest in a show of false bravery. You wobbled slightly, proving his point.
Luke sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Look…" he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "I'm not trying to be a jerk. I'm just worried about you. You're clearly hammered, and it's not safe for you to be alone."
You scoffed. "Safe? I'm not a little girl, Luke. I can take care of myself."
"Yeah, well, right now you can't even take care of your balance!" he retorted, his patience wearing thin. You wobbled again, nearly toppling over before catching yourself on a nearby tree trunk.
"Just stop following me, okay?" you slurred, your voice thick with a pout. "I don't need this from you"
He sighed as your trembling body swayed precariously, threatening to topple over at any moment. Luke knew arguing with you further would be pointless. You were a force of nature in your current state, fueled by both alcohol and indignation. He needed to take a different approach.
With a resigned sigh, he whipped his denim jacket off in one swift motion. Kneeling before you, he draped it around your waist, the familiar scent of him momentarily grounding you. You blinked at him, a flicker of confusion replacing the anger in your eyes.
"What are you—woah!" you yelped before you could finish your question. In a smooth, practiced motion honed from years of wrestling monstrous opponents, Luke scooped you up effortlessly, hoisting you over his broad shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
A surprised shriek erupted from your lips. The world tilted on its axis as you found yourself dangling upside down. The clearing erupted in laughter. A few of the campers who had been watching the whole scene unfold hooted and hollered, their amusement evident. "Careful with that one, Luke!" one of them called out, a wide grin plastered on his face. "Looks like she bites!"
Luke shot him a withering look, his jaw clenched. "Very funny" he muttered, ignoring the whistles and catcalls from the others. His focus was solely on you, the warmth of your body radiating against his back.
“You better put me down!" you shrieked, kicking your legs in the air in a futile attempt to dislodge yourself.
"Not a chance, Short Stuff" Luke called back.
"But I don't want to go back to my cabin yet! The party's just getting started!" You pounded your fists against his back, a feeble attempt at protest. "Seriously, Luke, put me down! I can walk perfectly fine!"
"Uh-huh, you´re right" he said sarcastically, walking down with your full weight on one shoulder as if you were as light as a feather.
You let out a frustrated groan, burying your face on his back. “This so embarrasing!” you cried. You hated that he was right. You were a mess, and the last thing you needed was to stumble around the woods in this state, potentially attracting unwanted attention.
Despite your annoyance, a strange sense of security settled over you as Luke carried you. The rhythmic thud of his footsteps against the earth and the warmth of his hands radiating against your legs as he held you were oddly comforting.
The walk to your cabin, however, was far from peaceful. You continued to mumble incoherent protests, punctuated by occasional swats at his back and what felt like an eternity of "Put me down!"s. But Luke remained undeterred, his jaw set in a determined line.
Finally, after what felt like an hour —but was probably closer to five minutes—, you reached your cabin. Relief washed over Luke as he gently lowered you onto the porch, careful not to jostle you too much.
You glared at Luke, your arms crossed defiantly across your chest. He couldn’t tell if your eyes were truly filled with anger of constantly trying to focus on his face so your world wouldn’t keep spinning.
"Well, aren't you prince charming himself, Mr. Castellan" you huffed, voice thick with a playful slur. "Kidnapping girls and all"
Luke, however, seemed unfazed. He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down your spine despite yourself. "Just get in, sleepyhead" he countered, his eyes gleaming under the moonlight as he opened the unlocked door to your cabin.
You pouted, a childish expression along with the stomping of your feet on the wooden porch. "I could have walked!" you protested weakly, knowing full well it was a lie.
He ignored your protest, stepping past you and gently maneuvering you towards your bed, placing his hand on your lower back as you walked. The cabin was, as expected, empty. Your half-siblings, ever the social butterflies, were undoubtedly wreaking havoc at the party you were now forbidden to attend.
You felt lonely for a second, but it was quickly overshadowed by the warmth that spread through you as Luke helped you onto the bed. You wanted to be furious with him, to unleash the full force of your drunken anger. But the lingering warmth of his touch on your legs and back, the way he so effortlessly hoisted you like a defiant princess, somehow muddled your outrage. The thought was absurd and yet undeniably attractive.
He knelt down in front of you once you sat at the edge of your bed. You could smell the faint scent of woodsmoke and pine needles clinging to his clothes, a comforting aroma that filled your nosestrils instantly.
With a gentle hand, he reached out your calve and started unlacing your boots, his touch surprisingly tender. You watched him in a daze, your head spinning slightly. The world seemed to tilt on its axis again, everything blurring at the edges except for Luke's face. You watched him in fascination as he repeated the process with your other foot.
Suddenly, a wave of nausea washed over you. You squeezed your eyes shut and groaned, a weak sound that escaped your lips.
Luke, sensing your distress, immediately stopped what he was doing. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern as he placed one hand on your knee.
You opened your eyes, blinking slowly. "Yeah, just a little…" you trailed off, searching for the right word. "Woozy" you finally managed.
Then, he stood up and looked around. His gaze landed on a package of makeup wipes on your bedside table. Without a word, he picked them up and returned to kneel before you.
"You might want to clean some of this off" he said, holding up a wipe and gesturing to the smudged mascara beneath your eye.
You were speechless. No one had ever offered to do something like this for you before. A warmth bloomed in your chest, chasing away the remnants of your anger.
He held the wipe out to you, but you didn't take it. Instead, you found yourself blurting out; "Can you do it for me?"
He didn't hesitate. He fully unfolded the wipe as he lowered to you just a little to continue the process of taking care of you, his touch tender.
He was wiping the makeup from your face with a meticulousness that surprised you. You sat there, mesmerized, feeling strangely vulnerable under his watchful gaze even though you kept your eyes closed. The alcohol, combined with the unexpected intimacy of the moment, had rendered you uncharacteristically quiet.
"You didn't have to punch him, you know" you mumbled, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.
He kept as concentraded in his task as he was before. "Who?" he asked, though you both knew exactly who you were talking about.
"Mark" you clarified.
Luke sighed, going for your other eye. "He was… well, he was clearly taking advantage of your state" he explained patiently.
"How do you know?" you challenged, a sliver of defiance still clinging to your voice.
"Because I know you, yn" he said softly, his gaze locking with yours. "You think I would´ve done what I did if you were sober?"
His words hit you like a wave of realization. Shame washed over you, hot and prickly. You hadn't realized how vulnerable you were, how easily manipulated under the influence of your drink. “There we go” He stopped his movements eyes. “All clean” he announced as he placed the dirty wipes over your bedside table.
"I-, I'm sorry" you mumbled, looking down at your lap, playing with the edges of your miniskirt. "I shouldn't have pushed you like that."
He knelt down again, this time untangling his denim jacket from around your waist. As he spoke, his voice was laced with a quiet understanding. "Listen, I know you might be mad at me for… well, everything. But I wasn't trying to ruin your night. I was just worried about you. You were drunk… you are drunk” he said playfully, reaching out and squeezing your cheek as if you were a little kid. “and that Ares guy –, didn't exactly seem like he wanted to be nice, and I can’t handle that. You can´t go around with people you don´t know, you know better than that" his voice dropped again.
He was right, of course. You were a demigod, trained to be aware of your surroundings and the dangers that lurked in the shadows. Yet, tonight, you'd thrown all caution to the wind, blinded by the effects of vodka and fruit juice and the fleeting attention of a stranger.
A pang of guilt washed over you. You squeezed his hand, a silent apology for your earlier outburst.
He gave your hand a gentle squeeze in return, his lips curving into a small smile. “Besides, we´re friends, right?”
The word felt cold, heavy with unspoken meaning. Friends. You and Luke. The idea was both familiar and exhilarating, a spark igniting somewhere deep within you. You didn´t say anything, but Luke didn´t need you to.
He stood up again and leaned down, surprising you by brushing a light kiss on your forehead. It was a chaste gesture, meant to be comforting, yet it sent a jolt of electricity through you.
"Go get some sleep" he said, his voice a low rumble. "I'll check on you in the morning."
He started to turn away, but before he could take a step, you reached out and grabbed his arm. "Wait" you stammered, your cheeks flushing crimson.
Luke turned back, a questioning eyebrow raised. In that moment, the alcohol-fueled bravado that had propelled you through the night seemed to evaporate. You were left with a newfound shyness, a sudden awareness of the intimate atmosphere that had settled between you.
"Can you..." you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "can you stay a little?"
Luke stared at you for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He didn't answer immediately. He stood there for a long moment, studying your face, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken emotions.
Emboldened by a newfound courage, you stood up from the bed. You were still a little unsteady on your feet, the remnants of alcohol making your movements slightly wobbly.
Reaching out, you stopped in front of him, his height suddenly a towering presence. You closed the gap between you two in a second. Now you were standing impossibly close, your body brushing against his.
Looking up at him, you were struck by how tall he seemed, how broad his shoulders were. A wave of dizziness washed over you as you registered the clean scent of his cologne, one that you hadn’t noticed before, a scent that suddenly seemed incredibly appealing.
"Luke" you whispered, your voice barely a breath, your eyes tracing the outline of his lips. "When did you get so tall?"
He chuckled softly, a low rumble that sent a delicious shiver down your spine. "Maybe you just haven't noticed before" he replied, his voice a husky murmur.
The playful banter momentarily broke the tension, but the air between you still crackled as heavy as it could. Your gaze drifted back to his lips, now so close you could almost feel the warmth of his breath on your skin.
They were full, inviting, and in a moment of drunken bravery, you found yourself leaning closer, your lips hovering just a breath away from his. "You smell good" you mumbled, your voice slurred but filled with a newfound confidence.
Luke swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. He was dangerously close to you, the heat radiating from your body a tangible thing in the cool cabin air. His muscles tensed, a battle raging within him between concern and a growing desire.
You reached out and toched his thigh, your fingers brushing against the worn fabric of his jean. Slowly, teasingly, you trailed your hand upward, until you reached his belt, hooking one finger to it, and you pulled him even closer to you. The movement was subtle but undeniably provocative, sending a jolt of electricity through Luke's body.
He stood frozen, mesmerized by the sudden boldness you exuded. This wasn't the girl he knew, the playful friend who teased him mercilessly. This was a stranger cloaked in the familiar, and the effect was intoxicating.
His own breath came out in a ragged sigh. Every rational part of him screamed at him to step away, to put some distance between the two of you. You were clearly inebriated, and taking advantage of that wouldn't be right.
But another part of him, a more primal part, yearned to close the gap between you, just a breath away. He had always found you attractive, drawn to your quick wit and fiery spirit. But the line between friendship and something more had always felt too blurry to cross.
Now, with the inhibitions lowered by alcohol, that line seemed to have vanished entirely.
He leaned in closer, the space between your faces shrinking with each passing moment. The scent of your coconut perfume and something uniquely you filled his senses, further muddling his already clouded judgment.
"yn" he began, his voice husky, a warning more for himself than for you.
"Stay" you whispered, your lips still hovering tantalizingly close to his. The raw need in your eyes mirrored the war raging within him. “Stay and make me yours, Luke. Please”
His hand reached up, cupping your jaw as his gaze locked with yours. You tilted your head into his touch, a silent invitation.
"We can't do this, gorgeous” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "You're not sober”
"I don't care" you interrupted, your voice thick with a desperation that surprised even you.
Luke felt his resolve crumble. He wanted this, just as much as you did. The idea of kissing you, of finally exploring the feelings that had simmered beneath the surface for so long, of touching you, feeling you, was undeniably tempting.
But a sliver of sanity remained. He knew that taking advantage of you in this state would be a betrayal of your trust, something he wouldn't be able to forgive himself for.
"But I do" he countered, his voice firm yet gentle. "If I'm doing this with you, I want to do it right. When you're sober and can make a real choice. When you can remember"
A wave of disappointment washed over you, but a tiny voice in the back of your head, untouched by the alcohol's haze, whispered its thanks. He was right. This wasn't the way you wanted things to happen.
So you nodded slowly, a small pout forming on your lips.
"Alright" you mumbled, letting go of his belt loop. “Can you still stay a little longer, though?”
A ghost of a smile played on his lips. He leaned down and brushed a soft kiss to your cheek, the touch feather-light, sending another wave of warmth through you.
"Go to sleep, trouble" he chuckled, the sound warm and familiar.
You walked back onto the bed, a strange mix of disappointment and relief swirling within you. As you drifted off to sleep, Luke pulled a chair beside the bed and settled down, keeping a silent vigil over you.
You immediately fell asleep, your mind could be running as fast as it could, but your body told another story. He watched you sleep for a moment, then left and went back to the party.
On his way back, he couldn’t help it but smirk to himself, a gushing and warm feeling rushing on his chest as he realized how close he had you. How his feeling were not so oblivious to you, and now that he knew, he wouldn’t have to work so hard to have you, or hide any longer.
742 notes · View notes
ma1dita · 15 days
Note
I need a pt 2 to the Luke and long distance!gf PLEASEEEEE
mdni
🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥
pt 1 here
a/n: man... getting out of my writing rut so here's this filth. sexting. kinda public. luke cums in his pants. what a loser
wc: 780
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*bzzz*
Luke’s phone buzzes for the third time in a row in his Financial Marketing lecture today. The notification shakes his phone against the wood of the table to the point that it’s bugging the hell out of Chris who’s locked into whatever the professor’s saying—but as soon as Luke sees your name flash across the slightly cracked screen of his iPhone, he drops his pen in favor of you. His brother rolls his eyes, slumping further into his seat head lolling against his arm. There’s a smile that immediately settles upon Luke’s cheeks at the thought of you.
“baby 🤭 you busy?”
“why are you not answering you don’t even like this class anyway”
“fine ig i’ll ask someone else for their opinion 🤷🏻‍♀️” 
He chuckles lowly as he types out a reply, “opinion on what babe 👀” and Chris nudges his arm with a nod to ask if everything’s good. The professor drones on in the background about the stock market and for once, Luke is glad that Hermes gave him the ability to skate through his Econ degree (the only think he’ll be grateful to his absent father for), because it gives him more time to focus on more important things, like the slew of images of you trying on bikinis that infiltrate his phone.
[5 Image attachments]
“oops sorry! guess i sent them to the wrong person”
He gulps almost comically, shifting in his seat as he saves them for later. Shifty eyes and quick fingers can only do so much in a crowded lecture hall. But you see that his read receipts are on, and frankly the lack of a response is irritating when you’re pulling your best poses in the comfort of your living room. Boys never get how much effort it takes to be sexy.
“damn. guess i’ll go find a new boyfriend who can appreciate all of this”
Luke sighs, half stifled by is need to see you bare and his spit going down the wrong pipe that he clears his throat loudly, trying to ignore his jeans tightening by the second. Licking his lips, he clicks on the presentation slides, trying to catch up to where the professor is after your very welcome distractions. 
[Image attachment]
He presses the ‘next’ button just as another iMessage notification pops up on his screen, trigger finger clicking open an image of your tits pressed between your fingers, nipples taut against the fabric and lips between your teeth—all shiny soft skin almost bursting through the flimsy top that’s loosening and almost vivid through the still image. If there’s more, he thinks he’s seeing stars.
Luke slams his laptop shut and it echoes.
He takes a deep breath trying to remember what year it is.
“You good bro?”
Chris mumbles with a furrowed brow, watching sweat glisten against Luke’s flushed cheeks.
“Not feeling well. Think I’m gonna head out. Send me notes later?”
It’s almost an inside joke between the two of them, but Luke laughs a little too hard trying to play it off. He shoves his laptop into his backpack, before slowly weaving through the row and hoping no one noticed his girlfriend’s tits on the blown up screen of his Macbook. But then again, something’s obviously off as he walks stiffly towards the exit, feet swift with no predetermined destination. Luke contemplates the probability of someone interrupting him in the hall bathroom if he goes there to rub one out. His dick is hard and weepy, frustration brimming at the seams of his resolve when he walks out of the lecture hall. Readjusting himself into his waistband and groaning at the pressure, Luke wonders if he can walk home fast enough.
[Video attachment]
He stops in his tracks as he opens your message, the sound of your moans and slick movements of your fingers buried under the damp bottoms of your bikini almost too loud in his Airpods. His dark brown eyes trace the movements of your swiveling hips on his screen and he leans against the wall to groan lowly, a pathetic noise clawing up his throat, until his mouth dries at the sight of you parting the fabric aside just in time for him to watch you cum hard, soaking the rest of your hand and the leather of the couch beneath your ass. Luke doesn’t realize his body’s unprompted decision to join your release until he feels a sticky, uncomfortable warmth pool against the bottom of his shirt, soiled beyond belief.
His head of curls bangs against the wall behind him as he moans.
*bzzz*
A lopsided grin forms on his face when his phone buzzes again in his hand.
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poisonousgirlie · 1 month
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Sparks (Luke Castellan x Daughter of Zeus! Reader)
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A/N: This is my first writing post on here, so I hope you like it. In a HEAVY Luke kick right now, and I ran out of fics to read, so I decided to write one.
Word count: 1,515
Summary: Luke can't get the new girl at camp out of his head.
part II
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Luke was just shy of 16 when you arrived at camp. He vividly remembered that day. He and Chris had been scheduled for an extra patrol shift because they got caught pranking the Ares cabin. More accurately, Chris got caught, and Luke got roped into it. Regardless, Chiron had appointed both of them to the border patrol shift that evening, even though they had been on the same duty just the day before. It was dusk, the shift was about to change, and Luke was looking forward to making his way down the hill for dinner when a disturbance in the woods caught the attention of the group. The 6 other half-bloods on patrol with him all reached simultaneously for their weapons as they heard a scream in the distance, and spotted the trees just down the hill from you shaking left and right as if something massive was pushing through them. Your figure came into view, distant and limping, dragging what appeared to be the semi-conscious body of your satyr protector behind you. You reached the top of the hill, just to the right of Thalia’s tree, and somewhat unceremoniously discarded the body of your companion against a tree. You turned back towards the woods, only a long dagger in your hand as you faced off the threat emerging from the woods. Luke and the others had begun running towards you as soon as you came into view, but the patrol had been nearly a quarter mile away when they spotted you, and to everyone’s horror the massive cyclops chasing you was moving much faster than they could. Luke watched, his heart in his throat, as you visibly steeled yourself before launching towards the monster. You agilely dodged its attempts to grab you before basically vaulting up its large form and burying your dagger deep into the monster’s chest. The move was smooth, not flawless but fluid enough to prove that you had done it before. Fortunately, the Cyclops disintegrated, leaving you panting and bleeding. You retrieved your protector and dragged the both of you the last few feet across the barrier just as the patrol reached you, seconds too late to be helpful. Somebody must have alerted Chiron to the arrival of a new camper because his form crested the hill and ushered you and your protector to the big house for medical treatment and your introduction to camp. That night, as he lay in his bunk in the corded Hermes cabin, Luke could not shake the image of you from his mind. You were stunningly beautiful, uncannily so, making him question if Aphrodite was your mother before he even got a good look at you. This wasn’t what left your image imprinted behind his eyelids however, it was the steely determination on your face and the impressive way you battled the cyclops that had you lingering in his mind. There was something curious about you, and he resolved to find out what it was.
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In the time following your harrowing arrival at camp, Luke made a concerted effort to get to know you. Two days after your battle by the barrier, Luke was the first to volunteer to show you around camp when Chiron showed you to the Hermes Cabin. He toured you around, pointing out various cabins, training grounds, and important buildings as the two of you wound through the camp. You were polite and somewhat reserved as he showed you the ropes, not letting much slip about yourself or your past. Camp suited you. You settled in well to the routine, adoring the training and enjoying the novelty of having a warm bed to crawl into each night. Your hand-to-hand combat and blade-wielding skills were already impressive for a demigod with no training, and you improved drastically with even minor instruction. Luke took it upon himself to help with your sword and dagger training, partially as an excuse to get close to you and partially because he wanted a new sparring partner who could keep up with him. He discovered that the long dagger you had carried into camp was celestial bronze; you had found it mysteriously wrapped in your backpack a few years before you arrived at camp and had defended yourself with it ever since. As you became more comfortable with Luke, you slowly revealed more about yourself and your past. You had been alone for a long time, an orphan traveling around the country and battling monsters for years before your satyr protector had found you and escorted you back to camp. Despite being alone for so long, you fit right in with the busy nature of camp. Sometimes you would get slightly overwhelmed, but your quick-witted humor, dry sarcasm, and warm heart endeared you to most of camp almost immediately. Everyone had heard about your arrival at camp, not only saving your injured protector but also killing a 15-foot cyclops alone, with nothing but a dagger. Most campers had impressive stories, but your reputation grew before you even emerged from the big house on your first real day. You had spent barely a week in the Hermes cabin before you were claimed. Luke had been trying to guess who your parent could be. You were beautiful enough to be Aphrodite’s daughter, fierce enough to be a child of Ares, clever enough to belong to the Athena cabin. He even questioned if you could be a child of Hecate, even though she had no cabin at camp; something about the sparks that swirled in your eyes was distinctly magical. Despite having all these attributes, it felt clear that none of those options were the correct one. Not even Luke, however, was ready for the shock that your claiming would send through the world of Greek gods and heroes.
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Your very first Friday at camp, capture the flag took place as usual. You fought well, aiding Luke and the Blue Team to victory. People were gathering together after the horn signaling the end of the games, congratulating teammates, and throwing bribes at the sore losers of the red team. Luke was helping a young camper tend to a minor wound when every hair on his body stood straight up, his nostrils burned, and he felt more than heard the deafening crack that shattered through the trees. He spun around to find you, a bright glow dimming in your eyes, hand extended towards the smoking form of a dead giant scorpion. The monster’s body was poised to strike, positioned just behind a completely shell-shocked Annabeth. The scorpion had managed to sneak up on her (a rare occurrence), and would almost certainly have killed her if it weren’t for your intervention. It was kind of impossible for Zeus to ignore you after you had literally wielded lightning, and the lightning bolt that shined over your head honestly seemed a bit redundant. Murmurs of shock and disbelief spread through the crowd; however, the campers made a path when Chiron appeared. The centaur stared pensively at the fading symbol above your head before bowing his head, and loudly calling out, “All hail y/n, daughter of Zeus, King of the Heavens.”
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Chaos enveloped the hours and days after the incident in the woods. Nobody knew what to do or think. Zeus was not supposed to have children, Thalia was supposed to have been the only one. Chiron and Mr. D worried about your safety. Technically, both Poseidon and Hades were within their rights to strike you down, according to their agreement, as you were not supposed to exist. This seemed unlikely, as nobody wanted to anger the King of the Universe, but it was a very real possibility. Nothing seemed to be happening right away though, so the next day you moved into Cabin 1. Luke warned you that it wasn’t the most pleasant of spaces, big, cold, and empty. However, when you cracked open the door to the cabin, you found it to be much different than he described. The domed ceiling was made of glass, allowing for a gorgeous view of the sky, which seemed fitting for the sky god’s cabin. A huge statue of Zeus stood at the center of the marble room. However, there was an alcove to the right that held a comfortable-looking double bed, lamps that seemed to be lit from within with tiny little lighting bolts fixed at intervals throughout the room, and even the rest of the cabin had been magically populated with things you may need. Bookshelves now lined one wall, a small sitting area in one corner, the bathroom in another. The cabin still had a bit of a high and mighty air to it, but it looked like a livable space, rather than a cold stone box as it had been for years. Chiron had been flabbergasted when you showed him the changes. It seemed Zeus felt badly that you lived on the streets for so long and decided to bestow you with a gift. (a/n: pretend this would ever happen and is not wildly out of character please want my girl to have a nice living space okay). You settled your few belongings into your new home and prepared to truly begin your life at Camp Half-blood.
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Luke had a difficult time for the first little while after you were claimed, the suddenly obvious parallels between you and Thalia sending his mind spinning. Both fighters, daughters of Zeus who had learned to survive on their own. Both battled a cyclops at the edge of camp while trying to protect their protectors. The likenesses were unnerving. His first instinct was to feel that it was unfair that you got to survive when Thalia did not, but he pushed that feeling down when he realized that you could not help that, and had nothing to do with the events that took place last year when he arrived at camp. You were your own person, situationally you may have been similar to Thalia, but you were not her, and deserved a fresh start just like everybody else, daughter of Zeus or not. Luke had been avoiding you since showing you to the Zeus Cabin, he needed a moment to process everything. In hindsight, you being a daughter of Zeus made perfect sense. There was something about your eyes, they seemed to spark with life, each emotion was mirrored within your eyes, and they seemed to truly light up when you smiled. You also always seemed to be accompanied by a slight breeze, the wind flowing through your hair, and giving you an air of floating as you moved. He also could have sworn that the other day as he taught you a new sword technique the wind had kicked up, pushing him backwards and aiding you in the mock fight. The grace and confidence you moved with made sense too, even bleeding, dirty, and scared you had managed to give off an impressive air of confidence and poise, fitting for the child of the King of the Gods. After a while though, his mind strayed from your parentage to just you. He had only known you for a few days, but he found himself captivated with you, you were surprisingly funny, able to joke with him and Chris on your first day. You were sarcastic, and he would not want to get on the wrong side of your quick wit, but he also saw the sweetness you displayed when interacting with the young campers in the Hermes cabin. Your residence there had been brief, but quarters were tight and the little ones seemed to like you, something that did not slip by Luke’s notice. He knew you were an anomaly, one he was determined to understand.
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Over the next year, the friendship between you and Luke grew, along with your friendships with the other campers. You fit into camp as if you had always been there, despite the unusual nature of your parentage. Being on the older side of the campers, and also the only member of your cabin, you were made a counselor pretty much immediately. Before long, you switched from participating in activities to leading them. Your natural talent for both leadership and the activities you engaged in made the transition smooth. Despite your newfound duties as a counselor, you still poured your heart and soul into becoming a better warrior every day. You studied with Annabeth weekly, practiced archery with your friend Jasmine from the Apollo Cabin, and questioned Chiron endlessly about his past experiences with battle and about the heroes he trained over the years. Most important to you, though, were your daily training sessions with Luke. The two of you seldom missed a day, spending several hours drilling each other, sparring, and practicing fighting techniques each day. When things got busy during the day, you would sneak out to the arena after lights out, slinking back through camp side by side hours later in the middle of the night. Luke always dropped you off at your cabin when you did this, not wanting you to be out alone at night. The camp was safe, and you could more than handle yourself, but it was the principle of it. At least that’s what he told himself; he was just being a gentleman. He definitely didn’t just want a few more minutes of having you all to himself. In the time you two spent together, both during your training sessions and outside them, you became very close. Some people found it somewhat unnerving, the way your brains seemed to link together. You could communicate perfectly without words, a skill you developed after only a few months of knowing each other, and made your teamwork while fighting terrifyingly formidable. Something just clicked, you had never felt so comfortable and safe with another person before, having spent most of your life alone on the run. Luke was more or less infatuated with you, and it was quite plain for anybody to see. He always listened when you spoke and made sure everyone else did as well. He always found some way to be close to you, a hand hovering over your lower back as he ushered you out of the dining pavilion, stubbornly forcing his lanky body into the space next to you at the campfire even though there was more room elsewhere. Whatever the example, Luke stuck to you like glue. Annabeth would tease him when you weren’t around, saying that he looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky. His pride had him vehemently denying this, but he knew that her words rang more true than he was ready to accept. He admired you as a person, as a warrior, he liked you as a friend, and deep down he knew he cared for you as much more than that. Even in such a short time, you had become his other half, Luke and y/n, y/n and Luke. It seemed to just work, like in the way puzzle pieces fit together, or like watching one of Annabeth’s battle strategies fall into place. For now, though, he did nothing, not yet ready to disrupt the precious relationship he had built with you.
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A/N: I apologize for any formatting or any other issues, things are still a work in progress over here. I hope you enjoyed!!
xx posionousgirlie
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gamermattsgf · 2 months
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Horror movie hot takes // Matt + Chris
Again, I’m sorry that this is not my proper writing, but don’t worry! My breeding kink oneshot is on its way, I gotchu guys ;) I’m hopefully going to be dropping it some time in the middle of the week, so this is just some light and fun reading to do until then whilst you wait - if you want of course… pls humour my stupid ideas lol.
Thank you to whoever suggested this because I’ve been dying to give u guys my breakdown. Horror is one of my FAV genres, idk why, I just love scaring myself. Also, I don’t have just one to share with u guys, but three different options each because it’s such an expansive genre with so many probable things to pick from. You guys can probably tell that I have way too much fun with these things… (Plus they’d look good in multiple different genres and I rlly wish I could add more but I don’t want these to get too long bc they’re meant to be hot takes).
Obviously, a couple of the pictures I’ve used for the visuals may be potentially triggering as they contain blood and other disturbing bits of paraphernalia, so please if you’re squeamish, proceed with caution!!
But anyways…
Matt:
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First up Matt’s most likely to star in some type of rural corn maze horror. I’m thinking proper Southern gothic style, low quality, out in the sticks and with only a small population in the farming town where he resides.
I could so see the storyline following the main character who moves to this place, but very quickly gets that sinking feeling in her stomach that there’s something not right about the town, from the way the locals look at her to the way Matt speaks when she first arrives. There’s got to be that cliché plot line where something suspicious is afoot, something that she wants to unearth.
Matt’s character gives off creepy neighbour vibes, like the kind that watches the main character from behind his curtains as she unloads the moving truck. This Matt is properly country too, from the cowboy boots on his feet to his red flannel shirt and his shotgun that he randomly carries around because he’s a sheep farmer (do I envision him using his country accent, yes, yes I do).
Long story short, the rural town isn’t just a town, it’s actually a cult, and the reason the farmers rear cattle and mind sheep is so that they can conduct ritualistic sacrifices with them.
(I lowkey wish this was a movie I’d eat this kind of twisted shit up)
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For his second movie I’m absolutely obsessed with the idea of putting him in a domestic psychological thriller- so proper stalking vibes. I’m thinking something like ‘You’ but almost making him a more extreme version of Joe Goldberg.
Possibly he’s maybe the main character’s co-worker, who takes the secret affection he has for her a little too far? Or even just an absolutely psychotic ex that refuses to let her go… In short this is the kind of movie that doesn’t quite give you that exhilarating rush of jump-scares, but instead tries to make you as physically uncomfortable as possible with an absolutely horrific instrumental soundtrack playing underneath it.
I’m not sure why I chose this branch of horror, but something about the way Matt looks just really did it for me, it’s so difficult to explain but his physical appearance fits the overall image of someone with an obsessive attitude towards a loved one.
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Three words. Found footage horror. These kind of horror movies scare me the most because of that idea of it being ‘found footage’. Equally, ‘based on true story’ horrors also mildly unsettle me just because of that idea that it’s been reimagined from a real life event.
Matt’s found footage is giving ‘The Blair Witch Project’, I can defintely see him out in the wilderness with a bunch of his really close friends, all with camcorders in their hands as they document their time camping in the woods. Until everything goes terribly wrong. And they get lost. And are picked off one by one until Matt is the only one standing.
There is no soundtrack this time, just heavy breathing, crunching leaves underneath running footsteps, the sound of the wind in the trees and the occasional blood curdling shriek of whatever is hunting them down.
(I should seriously become a director lmaoo)
Chris:
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Now onto Chris… most people often think Chris would thrive in a classic 90’s slasher flick- like ‘Scream’ or ‘Friday the 13th’ which I’m not going to argue against because he really would look great in one. It fits his overall vibe of being the jock boyfriend that is one of the first ones to die after him and his girlfriend stupidly break off from the group to ‘fool around’.
HOWEVER, I personally think that a game show gore horror is more his speed, it fits his skill set better. I feel like Chris would be really versatile in this kind of high-pressure environment and I’d honestly love to see him in a franchise like the ‘Saw’ movies (I want to hear him whimpering in pain) -WHAT…? Who said that??
This Chris is just an ordinary guy who works an ordinary but depressingly mundane job that does not come with the best pay… so what happens when he gets an ad mailed through his letter box promising money to whoever volunteers to try out this new and exciting game for a reality tv show? Well it’s simple, Chris would do anything for a dollar, so he signs up- not taking into account at all about how advertisements like this aren’t normally personally mailed to a person and that quite possibly this letter had actually been specifically targeted to people who were known to be in desperate need of some spare change.
The result? A wicked sadist trapping these poor people into machines and torturing them for his own personal gain.
(Fuck I love this idea)
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This next one is a bit of a curve ball but roll with me here… a deep sea horror. Fun fact about me, I have horrible thalassophobia, and a severe fear of sharks (I know, stupid) but I can’t help it lol, they terrify me. However, still rolling with the overall cocky/jock/playboy characterisation of Chris, I could definitely picture him being some form of deep sea diving protege that’s a cave diving expert.
He’s a side character in the thriller that is called in when they need help with locating whatever monster lurks beneath the waves. Due to his speciality in the field, he’s one of the best, and co-leads a team of divers through a cave to see if they can sus out its location.
This Chris likes to wear a lot of blue things, and he’s constantly either smugly chewing on gum or is biting a toothpick within his teeth with an air of superiority about him. The soundtrack helps with the overall gritting suspense of the movie and keeps you on the edge of your seat constantly with jump-scares around every corner.
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And finally, who the fuck would I be if I didn’t rope Chris into a zombie/pandemic apocalypse horror? Because this kind of movie has Chris written all over it, real TWD style. For some reason, within the whole horror genre in its entirety Chris fits the branch of gore horror the best, blood, guts and big spectacles of action packed violence. You name it, Chris looks like he could be apart of it.
In an apocalypse kind of situation, Chris would definitely be either a side character who you meet maybe about half way through the series - possibly from some other rival gang that threatens to steal your weapons - or one of the original main characters that have survived thus far. His weapon of choice is definitely either a trusty crowbar, or a classic metal baseball bat, something that he can really swing and satisfy his frenzied killing needs with.
Aesthetics wise, he wear a black bandana to keep the hair out of his face, a white tank top and army green cargo shorts. Pair them with some heavy duty black boots and you’ve got yourself a mighty attractive apocalypse survivor to spend the rest of your shortened life span with.
Author’s notes: someone needs to take my phone AND my imagination away from me immediately at this point, it’s too powerful when they’re put together. I get wayyyy too carried away with this shit lol. I have such a vivid imagination it’s insane to me, I be writing whole ass screen plays for these Jesus Christ. But anyways, I wanna see those two in a horror movie so fucking bad (if you couldn’t tell hehe). Or maybe just watch a horror movie with them… like- dw baby boy I’ll hold your hand at the scary bits hahahaha.
Again, a list of people who I think would entertain my silly little ideas: @luvmila444 @luv4kozume @luverboychris @mattestrella @mattslutt @nicksmainbitch @ellie-luvsfics @orangeypepsi @sturniolosreads @sturniolowhore @sturniolosstar @imwetforyourmom @thesturniolos @strniohoeee @rootbeerworshiper @lacysturniolo @matthemunch @1800chokedathoe @asturniolos @vecnasnose0 @meanttomeet @mattscokewhore @stursweet @breeloveschris @kvtie444 @lovingmattysposts @bernardsgf @fake-sturniolos
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theblackestofsuns · 2 years
Photo
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“On It”
ZVRC #3 (May 2022)
Chris Ryall and Ashley Wood
Image Comics
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loveharlow · 2 months
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SEVEN - 005
PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader
SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[6.2k] based on 1x05.
WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mild violence, detainment, mentions of child abuse
NOW PLAYING‧₊˚
A/N‧₊˚ here's how I imagine TR's midsummer's outfit, also shoutout to Chris on the tumblr support team and bigger shoutout to @thepoguelife101 for helping me to get this uploaded.
˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗
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PETERKIN SLAMMED HER OFFICE DOOR SHUT. You sat in the chair across from her personal one, avoiding her eyes as she sat on the wood of the desk. “Y’know, I expected to see your friend in here. But not you.” The woman started. “Especially not with a felony as your first offense. Felony destruction of property could get you tried as an adult.” 
You remained silent, fiddling with your fingernails as she tried to intimidate you with an unwavering stare. A common interrogation tactic, you learned that from your mother. 
“Unlawful discharge of a firearm, trespass on protected habitat, felony destruction. Those are all Maybank’s charges, your little partner in crime?” She listed off. “I want you to take a trip with me into uncharted territory — your future. Picture this,” She started, leaning in further. “You, six months from now, sittin’ in juvie in Wadesboro, just a cell block away from the Maybank boy.”
You cringed at the thought, eyes finally looking at the Sheriff in front of you. She pulled out two papers from a manilla folder, laying them out in front of you. “You seen these guys? You know ‘em?” She inquired, crossing her arms over her chest as your eyes scanned the pictures.
They were mugshots of the square groupers. But you remained silent, jaw clenched and eyes stoic. “Do I need to repeat myself?” Her voice was lower now. You pondered for a few moments, should you tell her or keep quiet? But you figured the damage was already done.
“They…broke into John B’s house, trashed the place. They chased us through The Marsh, too.” You told her, making eye contact with the older woman now and scratching the back of your neck. 
She huffed under her breath, pulling more documents from the folder. “Here’s a more recent photo.” She laid them out, the photos presented to you almost made you gag. They were autopsy images of the groupers — deep slashes, pale skin, and bloated bodies. “Somebody gaffed ‘em, then used ‘em for chum. Whoever killed these men is still out there, and I got pretty solid reasons to believe their next target is that friend of yours. John B?” She told you. 
Then, she was leaning down so close that her lips were right next to your ear but you didn’t move. “You kids don’t think you’re the only ones after the Royal Merchant, do you?” Your eyes flicked over to hers, staring at the woman through hooded lids. “Yeah, I know about that, too.” She muttered before getting up and rounding the desk again, placing herself behind it.
“He isn’t looking for it, anymore.” You blurted, straightening in the metal chair. “Okay? He’s done.”
“Yeah, your friend said the same thing when I had him in here. I’m just tryna keep him safe. So, I’m gonna tell you the same thing I told him. See if your friend John B is interested in talkin’ to me and maybe we can keep you out of Wadesboro.” She snipped, shuffling the documents back into her folder and leaving the office.
“ARE YOU HER GUARDIAN?” The officer behind the reception desk asked, your mother shuffling with her purse angrily on the other side of the glass as you stood behind her. 
“Unfortunately. I’m her mother.” She snapped, sending a nasty glare your way that you rolled your eyes in response to. 
“Hearing will be in two weeks. If you fail to show up, you forfeit your bail.” The lady-officer informed, not even offering up a glance. “The restitution will be based on the average of three outside estimates of the cost of the damaged article. Sign right here, please...” She instructed, shoving the clipboard through the glass-slot.
You squinted your eyes harshly and sighed. You didn’t even think about restitution and your were praying that Topper’s boat wasn’t crazy expensive. You could faintly hear your mother muttering under her breath as she absentmindedly scribbled her signature on the bottom of the papers, spinning the clipboard back around to the officer before turning on her heels to face you.
“Let’s go. Now.” Her pumps clacked against the precinct floors, the woman practically throwing the Sheriff Station doors open. You followed closely behind, throwing your slightly matted hair into a ponytail. The jailhouse look was not your best one. “So, when I told you about the Thornton’s boat you just neglected to mention that you were the one that did it?”
You yawned as you tried to keep up with her pace, too tired to respond sensibly. “Yeah, I guess…”
She chuckled with no humor behind it. “The least you could do is pretend to care. The only reason I’m not going to make you pay this restitution your damn self is because I don’t need this becoming a bigger issue than it already is. Do you think I need the entirety of Figure Eight knowing my daughter’s facing a felony charge against one of the most prominent families on the island?”
“Right…” You dragged out, licking the bottom of your front teeth. “Because God forbid the Cul de sac finds out I sunk a boat after getting roundhouse kicked in the ribs...”
Your mother sighed, stopping on the driver’s side of her sleek, black SUV as your rounded the passenger side. Just then, you spotted JJ walking with his father, who you hadn’t seen in God knows how long. Your mother seemed to follow your line of vision, wagging her finger from the other side of the car.
“No. You?” She pointed. “You stay away from that boy, do you hear me? You stay away from all of those pogues.”
“Are you serious? He’s my best friend.”
“Yeah, well not today, he isn’t. Get in the damn car.” She spat, yanking her own door open and jumping inside before slamming it shut. You stood with your hand on the handle, watching JJ hesitantly get in the car with his father. Reluctantly, you opened your own passenger side door and got inside. Your mother nearly broke the key with the aggressive that she started the car with.
Your eyes were glued on Luke’s vehicle as your mother drove off but you could’ve sworn their car was shaking a crack-addict. And if you weren’t crazy, you saw a fist connect with a face through the back windshield. Your back straightened in your seat. “Wait, mom-”
“You mind your business.” She warned, looking between the road and you. “What happens between that boy and his father is none of your concern...”
YOU PRACTICALLY BOLTED UP TO THE COMFORT OF YOUR ROOM WHEN YOU WALKED THROUGH THE FRONT DOOR. Marley was sitting on your bed. You felt bad for being away from her so often recently, but you knew she could entertain yourself. You always left her three bowl of food and water when you had a feeling you’d be gone, knowing your mom didn’t care for the dog as much as she used to. Or at all, really.
Your mother had stopped her yelling and berating about ten minutes into the ride home, receiving a phone call from Shoupe. Even with the device to your ear, you could still make out what the man was saying.
He and Peterkin sent out units to basically spy on John B ‘s house, planning to wait until the boy appeared and make their move. Moments like this made you despise living on an island that was hit by frequent hurricanes, unable to warn any of your friends about what was happening, especially not knowing when John B would pop back up after his run from DCS.
The animal jumped off the bed at the sight of you, jumping on you as you knelt down to her height.
“Hey, Marls.” You cooed, scratching the retriever’s neck as you wiggled up underneath you. “I know, I miss you too. How you been, girl?”
“...Thanks, Anna. I’ll let her know..” Your mothers voice rang in your ears as she stopped in front of your open door, ending the call she was on. Her attention was directed towards you now as she rolled up the sleeves on her blazer slightly. “Clean yourself up. You’re going dress shopping with Kiara.”
“For?”
“Midsummers. You’re going.” You groaned, you’d never been to Midsummer’s because this was your first-year as a Figure Eight resident. With the help of Mrs. C, Kie’s mom, your mom managed to wiggle her way into the Island Club, scoring you an place at Midsummers. Kie described it as the ‘Met Gala from Hell’.
“Wouldn’t a better punishment be not allowing me to go?” You tried, even though you knew she’d never go for it.
“No because that’s exactly what you want, both you and Kiara.” She said, so you assumed this was a small punishment for your best friend, too. “Shower, buy a nice presentable dress, and be there. On time.” Was all the woman said before she continued down the hall to her own room.
Your eyes drifted down to the dog as you pouted, she was staring up at you cutely, mouth open and tail wagging. “I’ll steal you some sliders”
“SERIOUSLY, YOU LOOK GREAT.” Kie gushed beside you, eyeing your hair as you walked into the dress shop. “Like, I know neither of us want to go but you look like a goddess. For real.” 
You couldn’t help but giggle, bell jingling above the door as you both entered the small corner shop on the mainland. “I won’t say I don’t want to go just yet. I’ve never been...” You told the brown-haired girl. 
“Anything I can help you ladies with?” An employee approached with a bright smile, hands clasped in front of her. She looked so well put together.
“Oh, we’re okay. Thank you.” Kiara politely declined, leading to the racks in the back by your arm. “Everything in here is so hideous but there is a gold mine in the back. No pun intended.” She whispered as she tugging you towards racks you wouldn’t even know were there without her.
“Sometimes, people try and hide their shit on the clearance rack so no one will take it and they can come back and buy it later.” She told you.
You eyed a couple of dresses that peeked your interest — a slim black one, a floral green one, a lacey blue one. There were so many. You plucked up at least five dresses from the rack, Kie’s arms just as full as you both silently search, the shop music playing in the back.
When you were both satisfied, you rushed to the dressing rooms. Kie went first and you almost forgot how picky she was. The girl looked good in almost anything but when she walked out in a purple, cowl necklace, satin dress, you both knew it was the one.
“Oh my, Kie, you look so good!” You exclaimed, squealing like a school-girl. “The purple makes your skin look amazing, Kie, you have to get it.”
“I’m not leaving the shop without it.” She said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, a smile on her face. “Okay, let me change so you can try yours on.” She said, slipping back into the dressing room as you gathered your hangers of dresses from the seat beside you and entered the room after she left.
The first couple of dresses were just not your thing. It was either too loose or unflattering in color. You were about to give up and head back to the racks until you realized you still had one more dress to try on — a mulberry colored dress with a sweetheart neckline. Slipping it on, you stepped out of the dressing room and did a twirl for a Kie.
“...If you don’t buy it, I fucking will.” She looked you up and down with wide eyes.
“Is that a yes?” You questioned.
“It’s a hell yes.” She scoffed. “You look stunning in that dress, Y/N.”
“Need any help in here?” The same employee from earlier came in, stopping in her tracks when her eyes landed on you. “My God, it suits you so well.” You weren’t sure if she was just doing her job but her compliment was all you needed to decide that this was your Midsummers dress, for sure. “Oh! I have just the thing to compliment it.” The woman gushed, rushing out of the fitting room and returning within seconds, a flower-band hairpiece in her hands. 
She placed it gently atop your hair, adjusting it until it sat right. She told you you looked beautiful and left you and Kie to yourselves once more, not before bringing a matching hairpiece for Kie that suited her purple dress. The employee took all of your unwanted dresses back for you while the both of you re-dressed and went back out to search for shoes.
With Kie’s help, you settled on a pair of block-heel pumps that closely resembled the color of your dress. The woman at the register happily rung you both up, offering you a friendly smile on your way out the door. You were maybe five feet from leaving when a familiar head of blonde hair entered the shop as you and Kie were leaving, bumping in between the middle of both of you.
“Oh! I’m so sorry-” She stopped mid-apology when she realized who she was apologizing to. “Oh. It’s just you two.” Sarah’s tone wasn’t as cheery as she eyed you both up and down. “Midsummer’s?” She asked, motioning towards the bags in your hands.
“Yep.” Kie gave the girl a fake smile. “How about you? Out for prey?”
“Okay, you know what, Kie?” Sarah started, causing a scene in the small shop as you tugged on Kie’s arm.
“We should just go…” You whispered.
“Oh! And thanks for sinking my boyfriend’s boat, Y/n. Real classy.” You couldn’t help but scoff, edging in front of Kiara.
“Which boyfriend? I mean, it’s clear that Top isn't your main man anymore, so when’s the next guy gonna pop out?” The blonde girl smiled, licking the bottom of her top teeth before speaking.
“Be careful what you wish for.” She spoke in hushed tone, your eyes pinching in on each other.
“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” Kie jumped in.
“Is there a problem… over here?” An employee came over, a much older woman. The manager you assumed.
“No.” You replied, winding your arm through keys before pushing the store door open. “No problem at all.” You told the lady, eyes mugging Sarah as you left.
“EXCUSE ME SIR, DO WE HAVE TO SHUCK THESE OURSELVES?” Kiara put on a fake accent as you both snuck up behind Pope, the boy turning around with an irritated expression before realizing it was you two. “‘Cause it might mess up my costume.” Kie laughed.
He smiled and pulled you both into a tight hug. When he released you both, he turned to you first. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve never-”
“Pope, don’t. It was my idea.” He swallowed his pride, accepting that you wouldn’t allow him to apologize.
“Have you seen JJ? Since the arrest?” He asked, voice laced with worry.
You nodded. “We spent the night in the holding cell together. Last I saw him was when he left the station with his dad…” You told him, the events of this morning flashing in your mind. You knew JJ’s dad was a little off his rocker but now you were wondering just how bad it’s gotten. 
Pope’s mind seemed to wander after that. You wanted to ask if he knew anything, if you were right to be worried but you decided to just wait until you saw JJ. 
“You ever seen this many kooks in one place?” Kie cut in, staring at the growing crowd of people.
“Yeah,” Pope replied, standing next to her. “Last year.”
“We’re in the lion’s den.” She said solemnly, eyeing Topper and Kelce from across the field.  Applause broke out prompting your attention to turn to the family entering the party — The Camerons. Rose, Ward, Rafe, Sarah, and Wheezie descended the stairs in typical Cameron fashion. “Here come Lord Capital and the Exploiters. This is gonna be fun…”
IT’D BEEN A COUPLE HOURS SINCE YOU’D ARRIVED AT MIDSUMMERS. You and Kie had been sneaking Pope drinks as he worked, almost getting busted by Heyward. 
“Y’know, I’ll admit,” Kie started as you both leaned against each other while Pope continued preparing food in front of the grill. “This is a lot more fun with you guys here.”
“Aww,” You cooed, rubbing the girl’s arm. “We love you, too.”
She giggled. “Are you tipsy?” You looked up at her through your lashes as you leaned on her arm. You held up your hand, hovering your index finger and thumb in front of one another.
“Jus’ a little.” You whispered, eyes drifting around the party. You watched the party-goers dance and drink and socialize. But your eyes managed to land on a familiar head of scruffy blonde hair. “Is that JJ?” You perked up, taking your weight off of Kiara. You hiked up your dress slightly in order to speed-walk across the lawn and reach the boy, Kiara calling out behind you. “JJ!” you whisper-yelled, catching the boys attention.
He looked star-struck for the briefest of moments and he still hadn’t spoken when you reached him. You waved a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of it and watching a small smile edge on his features.
“It’s so good to see you, princess.” He cheered quietly pulling you into a tight bear-hug, lifting you a few inches off the ground. You didn’t hesitate to hug him back, wounding your arms around his neck right before he put you down. 
But your smile dropped when you got a good look at his face. “JJ..” You whispered, fingers tracing the bottom of his lip where a large cut sat, a large bruise on his cheek. “Did your dad do this?”
His blue eyes met yours, pulling your hand from his face and holding it in his own and edging closer to you. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”
“What do you mean don’t worry about it, JJ? He can’t hit you like that-”
“It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before.” He cut you off. “Okay? Just keep it to yourself. Please, Y/n.”
You looked between both of his eyes — they were pleading with you to just drop it. To let it go. And you didn’t want to. But JJ did. You nodded, squeezing his hand. “Okay…” you agreed. “Don’t worry about all of this, okay? My mom’s gonna pay the restitution, so if that’s why your dad’s mad just let him know-”
“It’s okay.” The blonde. “John B and I, we have a plan. We’re back in the G-game.” Your eyes went wide.
“But there was nothing there. The wreck was empty, JJ.” 
“John B will explain everything, alright? But I have to do somethin’ really really quick.” He backed away, walking backwards from you, basically skipping. “And you look gorgeous, by the way! Prettiest Pogue Princess there ever was!” He mildly-shouted as he walked away, a bright smile breaking out on your face. 
You turned back around to find Kie just standing there. “What was that?” She inquired as you both walked back to Pope. 
“What was what?” You asked, plucking a shrimp off the scorching grill as Pope swatted your hand away with the tongs.
“You and JJ…” She trailed off. “You don’t think that was weird?”
You scoffed, looking up at her through your lashes. “He’s one of my best friends, Kie. Plus, we’ve been through a lot in the last 24 hours. Why are you making it weird?” She didn’t respond after that, just giving you an odd look. You only spoke again once Pope asked what happened. “JJ says we’re back in the G-game.”
“How?” Pope asked, still paying most attention to the food in front of him.
“Not sure. He says John B will explain it all later.” You pulled your phone out of your bra, looking at the time. “Shit. I need to go find my mother before I become the next thing on the grill. She wants me to meet some business partners of hers.” You dismissed, waving goodbye to your two friends.
You weaved through the crowd, spotting your mother at one of the decorated table talking to a much older, elderly couple. She spotted you and pointed before motioning you over. You stood next to her, smiling at the couple.
“Mr. and Mrs. Daugherty, this is my daughter, Y/n.” You shook their hands, told them it was nice to meet them. Your mother had explained that these were the people that helped her succeed in law so she wanted you to meet them and get their advice, despite your several protests that law was not your desired career path.
She kept trying to fit you into her shoes knowing they would never fit. But you listened to their takes and advice, mostly for their sake. You’d been idly engaging until you saw JJ bolt into the clubhouse, Rafe and his crew hot on his tail. Your plastered smile dropping for the smallest of moments.
“I’m so sorry,” You chuckled awkwardly. “You wouldn’t mind if I used the restroom, would you?”
“Not at all, darling-” The old woman told you but your mother was quick to add in her two cents.
“You can hold it, can’t you?” She fake laughed, eyes going back and forth between you and her mentors. “I mean, you wouldn’t want to be rude.”
“I didn’t know peeing was rude, Mother.” You cocked your head, lifting the skirt of your dress as to not trip over it on your way into the clubhouse, looking at the Daugherty’s once more before you left, offering them a smile. “Excuse me.” 
You walked as fast as you could into the building, accidentally bumping guest after guest on your way in. You no longer had sights on the group of guys, following the trail of shocked guests and shifted furniture that they left behind. 
To the people around, you probably looked a little crazed but this wasn’t like at The Point or at The Golf Course or during The Movie. Rafe would have JJ cornered with two guys behind him. You knew that realistically you stood no chance against a trio of guys but you weren’t about to leave JJ to fend for himself.
You searched the place up and down, stumbling towards the restrooms, immediately heading into the men’s one. You ignored the wold-whistles, protests, and men peacefully using the urinals, following the sound of hushed voices into the connected locker room. 
“Actually, there is an issue,” You heard JJ’s voice as you got closer. “We got a criminal trespass in progress here. Blatant disrespect for private property, I’m in violation of all kinds of shit here, sir.” You shook your head at his words, knowing he was seconds away from getting thrown out. The Island Club’s security was tight. 
“Excuse me, miss,” a voice startled you from behind, causing you to whip around. “You can’t be in here.” You opened your mouth, stuttering to find an excuse as the other security stared at you but you just settled on throwing your arms up. Clearly, JJ was safe, even though he was getting kicked out. 
As you were being led out, you looked behind you to see that the other officer had a hold of JJ before Rafe’s voice sounded out. “Hey, tell Y/n she looks hot in that dress! But she looks so much hotter out of it, trust me!” The Cameron boy laughed out and you watched as JJ snatched himself out of the guard’s hold and charged back into the locker room. The action made your heart jump but you weren’t sure for what reason as the other guard continued leading you out into the main hall of the clubhouse. 
You weren’t sure which exit the other security guard has escorted JJ out of so you made your way back to the deck of the clubhouse, head whipping left and right until you spotted that familiar head of blonde hair. JJ was reckless and chaotic but he was still your friend.
You weren’t gonna watch as they practically threw him out an event when he didn’t even instigate anything. “It’s okay everybody! Do not panic.” He shouted with his hands up in the air, the majority of the party’s attention now on him. “Leave it to the men and woman in uniform. Let’s hear it for them! Rose, you look like lady liberty.” 
“You can let go of him!” You called, skipping down the steps and into the grass. “He doesn’t have to be manhandled, he didn’t do anything!” The security turned to you, still gripping JJ by the upper arm. JJ took the opportunity to shove the man off of him, his blue eyes on yours across the lawn.
“Hey, mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, princess!” He pointed at you. “Kie? Pope?” He motioned to them as well. “Rixon’s Cove. Let’s roll! Throw off your chains!” You watched as Kiara snatched away from her parents and Pope ran away from his dad. You were making a move to follow them when a hand gripped your upper arm, your mother coming into view.
“We talked about this.” She said firmly, fire in her eyes. “Do not embarrass me, right now.” The woman warned.
“I don’t think there’s any way for me to make you proud anymore, Mom.” You told her sadly in a hushed tone before snatching your arm out of her grip, running towards your friends. You could hear her calling out your name behind you but you ignored her, jumping into JJ’s open arms and leaving Midsummers. 
CICADA’S CHIRPED IN THE MIDDLE OF RIXON’S COVE AS YOU ALL SAT AROUND A RAGING BONFIRE, waiting for JB to speak. “So, like, my dad’s already gonna kill me.” Pope started, sat on a log in front of the fire across from you and Kie while JJ and John B stood, throwing rocks. “So, what’s this mandatory meeting about?”
The two boys sat down, eyeing each other before JJ spoke. “Might as well tell him before we’re gaffed, man.” He said, the statement mainly directed at John B.
“...The gold never went down with the Royal Merchant. It’s been here the whole time.” The brunette said, a small victorious smile on his face.
“Here?” You exclaimed incredulously from where your head laid on Kiara’s shoulder. He just offered up a simple nod.
“It’s on the island.”
“I would like to voice my skepticism.” Pope raised his hand.
“I’m sure you would, Pope, but can I please present you my evidence, sir?” John B spoke mockingly as he got up to speak at the forefront of the group.
Pope motioned with his hand. “Proceed.”
“In my backpack, I have a letter from Denmark Tanny. Denmark Tanny was a slave that survived the Royal Merchant wreck. Check it,” He handed Kiara the letter as you eyed it as well. “Slaves weren’t mentioned as crew members on the ship, but my dad found the complete manifest. That was his big discovery. Tanny used the gold from the Merchant to buy his freedom, and then his farm.”
Kiara passed the paper across the fire for JJ and Pope to see as John B continued. “And that farm is, drumroll please…” Kiara patted her thighs rapidly, shaking your frame back and forth which prompted you to sit up straight. “Tannyhill Plantation.”
You blinked hard, craning your neck forward. “Tannyhill?” You and Kie exclaimed simultaneously. Like, the Cameron’s Tannyhill?
“Yeah. After that, he used the money to free even more slaves, and then he sold a shit-ton of rice, which pisses off all the white planters, and they decide to lynch him. On the day they were coming to get him, he writes a farewell letter to his son and in the last line of that letter, he leaves a coded message about the gold’s location.”
“Where?”
“Harvest the wheat in parcel nine, near the water. Except, there’s no wheat. Wheat is code for gold, seeing as the gold has the wheat symbol engraved into it.” He slapped Pope’s shoulder with a smile.
“Holy shit...” The dark-skinned boy said. 
“All we need is an original survey map of the property, and we’ve found the gold.” John B concluded, small smiles on the faces of the entire group.
“So, whats the plan?” You asked, and you figured it was nothing good when John B had his attention fully on you and Kiara, his shoulders square. “Well, Sarah Cameron’s coming tonight-”
“Hold on...” Kie was the first to speak.
“She’ll bring an original survey map.” 
“Why Sarah?” She asked.
“This is gonna be good…” JJ muttered, looking down at his feet.
John B sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. “She… got me into the archives at Chapel Hill yesterday. That’s where I got the letter.”
“You were at Chapel Hill with Sarah Cameron?” Kie spat out unbelievably.
“He was mackin’ on her.” JJ added in quickly, avoiding all eye contact.
“Of course...” You muttered disappointingly.
“I wasn’t macking on her, okay? I was… using her for access.” 
“Did you tell her about the treasure?” Kiara inquired, an undertone of hurt laced in her voice. 
“I was trying to get into the archives!” JB argued back.
“Is that a yes?” You chimed in, truly not believing John B could be that idiotic. But you guessed that was the Sarah Cameron effect.
“I was just using her for information. I’m trying to make us filthy rich here. Okay? So, that we can pay off a boat, or send Pope to autopsy school so he can study dead bodies. Look, you guys know me.” He continued talking, looking around at the group. Kiara was visibly uncomfortable. “Do I look like the type of person to fall for Sarah Cameron?”
“Yes!” You exclaimed with scoff. 
“Look, you guys don’t know her yet, I do!”
“John B, we do know her. A hell of a lot better than you ever will,” You started, anger and betrayal in your voice. “For the last time, you can’t trust her. With the gold or your feelings.”
“Her brother did hit me in the back with a golf club...” Pope reminded, massaging his shoulder with a grimace.
You blew out a breath of air. “Yeah, her brother’s done a lot of things…” You quipped underneath your breath. 
“What’d she do to you both, exactly?’ JJ aimed the inquiry at you and Kiara.
“She’s like a spitting cobra.” Kie spat out. “First, she blinds you and then- and then she-”
“This is a bad analogy…” The blonde muttered.
“Listen to me!” Kiara pleaded. “Whatever we get, she’s going to try to take...”
“I THINK I’M GONNA DO THIS ONE BY MYSELF…” John B told the four of you who were crowded in the back of The Twinkie. Kiara rolled her eyes and the rest of you sighed unbelievably. “I don’t wanna spook Sarah with the peanut gallery.” 
“I just don’t understand why we’re involving her at all.” Kiara snapped, throwing her shoulders up.
“Kie, we’re not involving her, okay? It’s just, like, a business…meeting…thing.”
“A business meeting between their tongues…” You muttered as JJ made kissing motions with both his hands. 
“Look, once we get what we need, we cut her loose, alright?” John B reaffirmed the group, dismissing your suspicion and doubt. 
“...Promise me nothing is happening between you two.”
“Nothing is happening, Kie.” The boy sighed. 
“I’m being serious. This isn’t about you and this isn’t about us,” You, JJ and Pope shared a tense glance.  Was Kiara sure she didn’t have a thing for him? “Dude, she’s gonna get inside your head. Just promise me nothing’s happening between you guys.” She spoke solemnly.
“I…I promise.” John B told her. “...Anyways, I’m gonna go.” John B said in farewell, opening the van door and exiting.
“We’ll just sit here…in this hot ass car.” Pope said as he shut the door.
“...Can’t believe he’s been seeing Sarah Cameron.” You thought aloud, disgust filling your words.
“You guys do know that holding onto your grudge is like drinking poison and hoping Sarah will die, right?” Pope threw out. 
“‘Hope is the companion of power and mother of success.’” You quipped back, remembering the quote from a random in class. 
“Seriously, what went down between you three? This is like some deep-rooted hate.” JJ added.
“Does it matter? We’re supposed to be a team and John B jumping ship to mack on the Kook Princess doesn’t exactly scream teamwork.” You told them. “We all know that deep down, when we find this gold, John B is going to have fallen madly in love with the serial cheating, two-faced snake that is Sarah Cameron and she’s going to break his measly little heart and steal what we find and then we’ll be left gold-less and picking up the pieces of John Booker Routledge’s little broken heart.” 
The space fell silent after your small rant, wide-eyed glances exchanged between the three. “Okay, I was wrong. That is some deep-rooted hate.”
“We shouldn’t have let him go out there alone…” Kie muttered, staring out of the window, thunder clapping outside. It was a thought shared amongst you all, a silent agreement. The van fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments.
Until it was broken.
“...help!”
Your eyebrows pinched together, lifting your head from JJ’s shoulder. “Did you hear that?” You asked looking up at the blonde. 
“Hear what?” You all sat silently for a few more moments, the only sound being the howling wind and the thunder booming until you heard it again, this time you all did.
“Somebody please help!”
You all didn’t wait to sprint out of the van, almost knocking one another over on your way out. You don’t even know how you and Kiara managed to run in heels without tripping. The four of you bolted in the direction of the tower, following the path that John B took and reaching the end of it to find Sarah cradling his unconscious body.
“Sarah! What happened?” Pope questioned as you all came to an abrupt stop in front her.
“He needs help. I don’t know what to do. Topper shoved him.” She cried, rocking back and forth with John B in her arms.
“From the top of the tower?! What the fuck was Topper doing here?” You spat out, head whirling left and right looking for any sign of the aforementioned boy.
“Where is he, now?” JJ interrogated.
“Please get help, I don’t care who. Just call someone.” Sarah bellowed as JJ urged Pope to run for help, especially with all of your phones being abandoned in the Twinkie.
“John B, stay with me…” The blonde girl cooed, running her fingers through his hair before planting her lips against his. You glanced to the side, not missing the absolute look of betrayal in Kie’s eyes and maybe you would’ve found the same emotion in your own.
John B lied, to all of you. But that was the least of your concerns now.
YOU HATED THE FEEL OF HOSPITALS. They were stale and sterile and boring. But most importantly, they made you anxious. The four of you sat in the waiting room, they wouldn’t allow you in the actual hospital room because Ward had paid for it and he wanted to give Sarah a moment with John B when he woke up.
“This is such bullshit.” You said unbelievably, tapping your foot incessantly. “She cheats on her boyfriend and gets our friend thrown from a tower but we can’t even sit in his hospital room? She’s probably holding his hand and praying like some widow…”
“Let’s just be glad that John B’s okay…” Pope tried to reason.
“No, Pope,” Kiara rolled her eyes. “He lied to us. Did you see the way she was holding him and-” She cut herself off, throwing herself back into the chair. 
“Look, we can be mad when he wakes up, but let’s just chill right now, alright?” JJ snapped, basically telling you all to shut it and you only then took notice of how tense he was — biting his fingernails, his hands visibly shaking. You took his unoccupied hand into yours, giving it a squeeze. He absentmindedly returned the gesture. “When I find Topper, I’m going to kill him. I should’ve done it on the beach…”
“Don’t say that.” You told him firmly. “That’s how they want you to think, JJ. Don’t feed into it, otherwise they win.”
“They always win, anyway.”
“Only if you let them.” You concluded, letting the hospital noise fill the silence — telephones ringing, patients coughing, nurses walking, family members crying. 
Taking in the scene around you, where you had all landed, you were starting to wonder if finding gold was really worth the trouble.
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feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.
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©loveharlow.
189 notes · View notes
sturnisposts · 3 months
Text
I CANT UNLOVE YOU
IMAGINE: you and chris broke up but yall both still can’t move on.
summary: broke up. heartbroken. but end up at the same party. the party yall both went to so it would hopefully ease the pain.. but what did it actually do?
warnings: man hitting on reader. chris confesses. nothing bad. slight panic attack
!not proofread!
just a short little image!
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“let me buy you a drink”
“no”
“come on, it won’t hurt you”
“i don’t drink nor do i want something from you”
“just let me buy you one”
he’s getting closer and closer. who is he? never saw him a day in your life. you look around, everyone is getting quieter and the world is weighing down on you.
“can you just leave me alone” your trying to back away but soon your hitting a wall.
“how about we go someplace quiet” he says placing his hand on your thigh and slowly dragging it up to your waist
“get off of me” you slap him in the face but he grabs your wrist and pulls tight
“you need to play nice baby”
your giving up, no one in this place is paying attention, too worried about drinking or getting high to care about anything
he’s getting closer and closer to you, he has you pinned down so you can’t move at all
you close your eyes and just pray to get out of the situation.
“shit” you open your eyes to see the dude that was once infront of you face first on the ground with little blood spatters on the hard wood floor
“you okay y/n” you look up to see chris face to face with you.
“oh my go- chris thank y-”
“i’m sorry i couldn’t get over here quicker, everyone was in the way”
“no. god no you got here just in time. you didn’t even need to come” when i say that he squints his eyes and has a confused look on his face
“didn’t need to come?- y/n that guy had you pinned to the wall, only god knows what he would’ve done to you”
“but it’s not your job to worry about me” i say with a sad smile
“y/n i love you. i still love you. and im always gonna love you.”
i look at him as my eyes start to water
“even if we broke up, i’d still kill if it meant you were safe. god you were one of the best things that happened to me. so don’t say that i don’t need to worry about you cause that’s what im here for, you got me obsessed with you and that’s not easy to get rid of”
at this point the amount of tears coming out of both of yalls eyes could fill a pool
your speechless, your staring at him while trying to find the words to say. everyone around is looking since he punched the dude
“chris i love you so much” you launch yourself into his arms. “i can’t ever stop loving you, you were the best thing that has happened to me” you whispered into his ear. he pulled you back so y’all were face to face.
“i’m sorry for everything i did, i thought i was protecting you… not hurting you” he says putting his forehead on yours
“you did what you thought was right, i’m just too dumb to understand that”
and with that he pulled you in for a passionate, long missed kiss. you never want to lose him again. he is your christopher sturniolo.
——————————————————————-
late night post 😨
xoxo
-sturnispost
144 notes · View notes
torteen · 3 months
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This advertisement is for Infinity Alchemist, a dark academia fantasy about a quest that leads three young alchemists toward dangerous truth, legendary love, and extraordinary power from the bestselling and award-winning author of Felix Ever After, Kacen Callender.
The art featured in this image is by Chris Sack. 
WHAT’S IT ABOUT
“Magic was once thought to only be gifted to the unique or special, the chosen ones. Now it was commonly known that every single person in the world had the capability to become an alchemist.”
For Ash Woods, practicing alchemy is a crime. Only an elite few are legally permitted to study the science of magic—so when Ash is rejected by Lancaster College of Alchemic Science, he takes a job as the school’s groundskeeper instead, forced to learn alchemy in secret. When he’s discovered by the condescending and brilliant apprentice Ramsay Thorne, Ash is sure he's about to be arrested—but instead of calling the reds, Ramsay surprises Ash by making him an offer: Ramsay will keep Ash's secret if he helps her find the legendary Book of Source, a sacred text that gives its reader extraordinary power. As Ash and Ramsay work together and their feelings for each other grow, Ash discovers their mission is more dangerous than he imagined, pitting them against influential and powerful alchemists—Ash’s estranged father included. Ash’s journey takes him through the cities and wilds across New Anglia, forcing him to discover his own definition of true power and how far he and other alchemists will go to seize it.
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