#my manhattan experience | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luminiamore · 2 months

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ALLURE.

plug connie springer x black stripper reader

warnings: boy is down bad, a little bit of mikasa x reader??, mikasa is famous heree, connie is a tease, he’s also hispanic asf, ya’ll didn’t even make it to the club, hints of yandere, mirror action, he fucks u while he’s crossfaded, wall sex, he talks a lot, dude is rambling, good ole cream pie, gotta love breeding

a/n: i got carried away (⌒_⌒;)

can you guys tell i like my men desperate lol, this is so long i might make this a series (4.9k words)

one down, like five more to goooo

masterlist

The lifestyle of stripping was something you truly couldn’t get enough of. The late nights. The smooth poles. Dancing on those smooth poles. And most importantly, the money. Oh fuck, how you loved the money. Living the fast life gave you such a rush that you adored it just as much as you hated it.

It’s not your first choice, not by a long shot. You were raised in Jamaica, New York. And your parents., you loved them. Honestly, you did, but you would probably be the most miserable person in the world if you kept heeding their strict Christian views.

You tried everything to reach up to their impossibly high standards. They wanted you to get an A in every assignment? Try A+. They wanted you to wear less revealing clothes because ‘No man will ever want you’? You’re showing up to your classes in turtlenecks just to keep their mouths shut.

You even made it a routine to clean the entire house top to bottom on Sundays since they started complaining that ‘You never do anything around this house.’ It was beyond annoying. You were fucking tired.

Growing up in Notre Dame School of Manhattan was nothing short of horrible. Proclaimed ‘good girls’ snorting more than half a line of coke in the school bathrooms. Drugs you aren’t even sure how they got access to, but then again, they are rich white kids. Teachers and hypocritical professors pretend to be oblivious to the bullshit drama their students are in. Your parents’ oblivion for keeping you here is even greater. Even after sharing stories with them, they would advise you to be more like the students at your school.

It was a miracle you didn’t turn out that far gone, despite what your profession is currently. You’ve smoked a little weed here and there. Experience some sort of awakening tripping off shrooms the weekend your parents took a trip to Barbados.

Without you, of course. Despite this, you were always taken care of. Your differences in opinion would never justify their abandonment of you. You knew they loved you when they got you a ticket to see The Weeknd live after you got a perfect score on your final, not after telling you their opinions on the matter, of course.

‘I don’t know why you listen to such devil music.’

‘I should’ve never gotten you this trash.’

The guilt you felt for wanting to have fun kept you from almost going. You went anyway, choosing to avoid allowing their misery to affect you.

Everything was fine; you played along with this draining game, and everything was fine. Until they decided to kick you out for finding a small baggie of blow (that wasn’t even yours) peeking out from the top of your purse. You don’t even know how it got there.

Honestly, you didn’t. You tried to communicate that while they were packing all the clothes they could find in your closet into two medium-sized luggage bags. But they wouldn’t listen, opting for screaming so loud you could see the neighbors peeking through the window. At the very least, they were kind enough not to throw them onto the concrete ground. Their stubbornness was unyielding. You just couldn’t get through to them.

You were able to rent an apartment you had put a deposit on a month before this happened because of the money in your savings account. Unfortunately, your funds were only sufficient for rent for two months due to groceries and other necessities.

When graduation came, your parents were nowhere to be found, so you realized that you had to find a means of earning money before you ended up sleeping on the streets.

You tried looking for a ’regular’ job -- a barista, a waitress, even applied to be a fucking bartender. It’s not as easy as it seems when those who already have one talk about finding a job. Why do they claim that they need to hire immediately and yet still reject you? Considering that your lack of work experience prevents you from being hired, you feign a little on your resume. Turns out, you’re not a very good liar.

Where was pretty privilege when you needed it?!

Despite applying to 500 companies, none could offer you a job within the next two weeks, which happened to be when your rent was due.

You really had no other option. You took your pretty ass and marched to the nearest club. Which happened to be the... Hustlers club? Why did that sound familiar?

Upon entering, you outright demanded to speak with the person in charge, and when you saw him, he demanded that he offer you a job. Lucky for you, the owner happened to be there that day. He observed the little moment you had when you stormed in..well, he observed the way your tits bounced in your low-cut tee and immediately pulled you into his office.

He had the thought that you would make him a lot of money if you worked for him, and he’s sure his business partner would agree if she saw you. He just had to make sure.

A figure appeared in the corner, striking up from the edge of his desk and making a slight sniffling noise. A girl, a beautiful one with distinct Asian features. Her leather skirt was short, only barely covering past 2 inches of her thigh. Her tits were pushed up to a necklace in a black corset-like top. An ornamental gold necklace.. with the letter M.

Wait. Is that-

That’s where it dawned on you why the name of this club sounded so familiar. On a random Tuesday afternoon, you find yourself standing in front of a celebrity. You were standing in front of Mikasa Ackerman. The Mikasa Ackerman. As in, owner of Mirror Palais, the highest-paid model in Japan, co-owner of one of the best clubs in New York, Mikasa Ackerman. Oh shit.

You remember seeing her on an Instagram reel in front of this very club, along with the other owner. The other owner, his name was.. what was it again? He swivels you around to face him, almost as if he hears your thoughts,

“Eren Yeager, sweetheart.”

A soft handshake accompanied by a gentle tone. He was quick to introduce you to the beautiful eyes that stayed fixed on your face since you walked into the dimly lit room. Eren guides you towards the brown leather couch where his friend is sitting,

“And, this is the lovely Mikasa. I’m sure you sure you know who she is.”

Feeling intimidated by her intense gaze, you nodded quickly and stumbled a bit when introducing yourself. Her following words didn’t calm your nerves anyhow,

“A real pleasure meeting you, beautiful.”

Eren could tell that Mikasa already liked you; the girl was practically fucking you with her eyes. But he wasn’t here for that; he cleared his throat to draw attention to him in the room. He had a goal in mind: to get you signed up. Eren wanted you dancing in his club today.

He sits you down and swiftly gets into business mode.

‘What kind of position are you looking for?’

‘What’s the minimum salary you want to earn here?’

He tries to get a sense of what you’re looking for before proposing to work as a stripper. Although he wants you to, he can compromise. Server position and the minimum salary you asked for was $65,000.

“And I’m not leaving til I get that or something better.”

Well, you wanted better, right? Eren explains to you that his club didn’t have any more waitress positions and Mikasa...

Well, that day, you found out that she was really good with words. She did a great job at convincing you that you’d make double the amount you asked for moving your perfect body on the pole. I mean...

“Look at that body of yours. You’d be pretty famous here, sweetheart.”

And shit, she was right. You really couldn’t blame the girls who never wanted to leave, simply too addicted to the drugs, to the fast life, especially to the money. The amount of money you made every night was simply insurmountable. And you found it funny because it wasn’t just the money. Really, it wasn’t.

The sensation that occurs when your lower body rotates on the pole. The art of dancing like this ignited such a passion from you. The attention, from the men and the women. One of the most popular clubs in the city had you as a crowd favorite. You knew it shouldn’t be something you liked; you never wanted to get too wrapped up in a life like this. But shit, it was sensational.

You didn’t let it slip, even though you shined on the stage. There are people who would take advantage of you even more if they knew you actually enjoyed what you do; you know this. When it was time to go, you left with no hesitation. You had to remind yourself of what you were here for, to provide and care for yourself until you find a better job.

And you stuck to that goal for a solid five months; nothing deterred you. Of course, that’s what you’re thinking. In reality, from the very first moment Eren had you on that pole, you found yourself coming back for one reason. Even if you weren’t subconsciously aware of it, him.

Connie, you heard the owner greet one day. He was definitely attractive. There was something about him, something about how he threw money at you and only you. Your body shivered without fail due to the gray eyes that watched your every move. The way he man spreads and tilts his head back when taking a hit, revealing neck tattoos that you know cover his stomach under that black Nike Tech hoodie. He was so fucking fine.

Only a few men can pull off a buzz cut. How does he do it so effortlessly? Maybe it was the color? How would he change it like it was nothing every two weeks?

You noticed he had a thin mustache, and when you got closer to his face.. Fuck. Was that a diamond nose ring?

He was a drug dealer. You caught that three months ago. Around that point, he began asking for you to exclusively serve his section. Eren had no problem with that; after all, this was his friend. But Connie started getting.. greedy. He wanted more than that. He started getting bold. He wanted your body on that twirling solely for him.

“Hell no.”

Eren filled the quiet section. Your body was followed by both green and gray eyes as you moved on the stage, with Connie’s eyes being more intense and focused compared to the other. The thriving club was filled with both of them enjoying a glass of Richard Hennessy Cognac in the VIP area.

Connie never had a good relationship with mixing Henny and weed. He was aware of that. He has a tendency to indulge in sinful thoughts. He didn’t let that stop him from rolling the blunt anyway.

His mind would get drawn towards dangerous places, mainly when he saw you. The way your thong disappeared between your cheeks under your lacey two-piece made him ready to fuck you right there. To show those perverted and prickly eyes that stuck like glue onto you that they could never have you. That you were his. Or, you will be.

Connie hasn’t even fucked you yet. Hasn’t gone anywhere near the sticky wetness he knows you have in between your legs.

You two indulge in what you could only describe as subtle grinding in the back rooms. All the dancing that you’re supposed to be doing on the pole, you’re doing on his lap instead. It was against the rules; you especially knew this. That didn’t stop either of you. Well, more so Connie than you.

At first, his best friend was against it. The customers you brought in were earning him at least $100k a night. While his other show girls were beautiful, you radiated a different type of aura onto the stage. You were something different. It was genuinely insane how you could move, you didn’t even have prior training. You found that every night, you got better than the previous; it was a natural talent.

Connie, being Connie, offered Eren twice that amount for every night he gets to spend with you alone. That was every night you were on the clock, besides, he had no problem making that back by the next day. When it came to his girl, there was never a problem for him.

And Connie never regretted the amount he spent on you. Being alone with you was something he had grown to crave incessantly. To him? It was worth it. He’d get so excited to just walk into the back room and find you waiting for him. All pretty, just tempting him to ruin you. Then, when you start performing in front of him, your body moves in a way that would hypnotize the stoic man.

And it wasn’t just your body to Connie. There was a certain allure to you. He was observant of the way you moved, spoke, and behaved. He understood that someone like you doesn’t come by every day. He just had to have you, own you. Your body, your fucking soul, everything you possessed, he wanted it for himself. He didn’t care if it sounded selfish; he’s okay with being that when it comes to you.

It’s reasonable to assume that he would have the final say on what you wear for him since he was the only person you would dance for, right? That was the route he took to get your number. That’s the reason you got a text from him while you were getting ready to shower for your night shift.

One of his friends- Was he talking about Mikasa?

You could have given it more thought, but your shift was only an hour away, and Connie was on his way. Using a small gray towel, you drape it onto the fat of your wet boobs. Your hands lather your Shea Butter oil on the top of your left thigh quickly, but you stop when your doorbell rings.

“Coming!”

You yelp, quickly slip on your slippers, and move toward the door. The man had always taken you home, and on the other side of the coin, he always took you to work. You didn’t bother asking how he knew your address the first time, afraid that it would spark an answer you’re not ready to hear. Occasionally, if you were too intoxicated to carry yourself to your apartment, he would act as your knight in shining armor and hold you in bridal fashion to your door without saying a word.

It should have been simple enough: he goes in and gets out. And it would have been that simple if he hadn’t seen your pink lacy thong loosely hanging off your door knob. He was simply a man, one who desired to feel every part of you. The tip of that thong was hanging out of his pockets when Connie left your apartment that night.

Swinging your door open makes you almost breathless. Connie was a tall person. Everything about him just screamed: big. He was easily over 6 feet 2 inches tall, and he came to your door carrying a medium-sized shopping bag. You step back, observing as he comes in right after taking his slides off by your door.

“You’re here early, Con. I’m not ready yet.” You whisper, still a little perplexed he’s already here. Despite the amount of money you know he has, you rarely ever see him in anything other than a white tee and black sweats. Today was no different. Minor differences in each pair made it clear that they were different every time. You suppose it had something to do with his dangerous line of work.

He hands you the cream-colored bag, and his eyes never leave your lips all the while. You suddenly became very conscious that you were breathing the same air as Connie, who appeared right in front of you. He leans in, the ghost of his lips felt against your collarbone,

“You smell good,” His tatted hands sneakily climbed their way onto your wide hips. Before muttering a curse under his breath, he squeezes once. For the first time since meeting you, Connie isn’t being truthful. He didn’t come to your apartment to take you to your job. Tonight, he had different intentions.

He came tonight to put a full stop to the cat-and-mouse game that you guys have been playing for the past five months. Two fully packed blunts and three shots of Don Julio convinced him that his attraction towards you was not going away.

He should’ve realized it when he started making a habit of watching over you outside of the strip club. She needs someone to protect her, he thinks. You don’t pay attention to your surroundings. You have no idea, don’t you? Your beauty could easily lead to someone from the club becoming obsessed and following you. Anyone who wasn’t him.

He also should’ve realized it when he started beating his dick into overstimulation to your pictures on Instagram. And after your shift. Of course, before your shift. Eren witnessed him having to excuse himself during your shift because his dick was painfully throbbing against his boxers.

Connie really liked you. And somewhere in that twisted mind of his, he believed that you two were truly meant for each other. He should’ve never waited this long, “Put this on, ma.”

He pushes the bag towards your chest and moves your hips in the direction of your room. Your thighs twitch as you hum and make a little run to the end of your hall. He follows after you slowly, eyes shifting to the way your ass peaks out from under the towel.

This scene feels oddly familiar. A predator stalking its prey, just waiting for the right moment to pounce. You didn’t know what Connie came here to do; in your mind, you were just getting ready for work. He almost felt sorry for you, almost felt sorry for how he was going to ruin you, almost.

He made sure to take his time approaching your door so that you could be ready and prepared for him when he arrived. And you didn’t disappoint. In front of your vanity makeup mirror, you were sat on the cushion chair. Applying what looked like oil from a flower bottle onto your neck.

You look better in the dress than he expected. Your fat tits sitting so perfectly, and the lace meshing with your skin. You pretended to ignore him behind your seat, starting to feel the weight of his presence around you. This was probably the thinnest item you had ever owned, yet his hands pressing on your shoulders made your skin feel like it was on hot volcanic soil.

You catch his eye in the mirror, and despite your flustered state, he doesn’t grant you the satisfaction of looking away. Not even while his hands lower down to your rib cage, right under your plush boobs. Especially not even while his giant palms wrap around the fabric covering your nipple in a tight grip.

You gasp, a moan bottling in your throat, “C-Con!”

It could have been the way you uttered his name or the way your head pressed against his chest. Regardless, Connie lost control and dropped his head into the crook of your neck, beginning to sprinkle small, wet kisses. He grips harder, and you... you get louder.

“You drive me fucking insane,” Your flesh is now exposed to his hands as they slip into the dress. “Skin so soft,” He kneads his hands into your chest, squeezing as if he’s hoping milk will pour out of them. He groans, “God, you’re so perfect mama.” The thought of that makes a shiver run down his body.

Poor Mikasa, she spent all night working on that dress once she heard it was for you. Connie didn’t even let it last for a good ten minutes before you heard a faint rip sound in the midst of your whimpers.

Your brain is struggling to keep up with the speed of everything happening. You attempt to tilt your head back, but he shuts it down right away. “Eyes on the mirror.” He moves one hand to your throat, keeping you still. You feel your body shake under his hold, twitching slightly from his small attack. You didn’t have the courage to look away, not even as far as you could.

“I’ve been so patient.” Squeezing your left nipple, he drops his fingers down the ripped material until they reach the top of your pussy lips. “Cumming to the thought of your pretty face like a fucking teenager,” His words bring a mewl to your lips. Your body starts sweating, nervous at the way his fingers are just rubbing circles around your skin.

Would he pull away if your hips jerked against his hand? You hoped against all odds that he wouldn’t. You’ve never allowed yourself to feel this desperate for anyone, but being around Connie left you like this. You were at a loss for what to do. Your thoughts were racing to find something, anything, that would bring him closer to you.

It’s unclear what motivated him to answer your prayers. But in the next moment, he pushed his middle finger into the center of where your slick was overflowing onto the cushion. He creates slight tap sounds with the puddle between your fat lips, playing with you.

Your eyes close for just a second and burst wide open when you feel a sudden intrusion in your sticky hole. “A-Ah!” A sob leaves your lips, your eyes falling back to your face in the mirror when you register his next words,

“Eyes on the mirror, mama. I haven’t done anything to you yet,” As Connie slowly moves his fingers into and out of your dripping core, his eyes struggle to keep track of your face in the mirror or the stain you’re beginning to make on his digits.

He settles with the stain you’re creating. He’s massaging your walls in a way that you can’t help but cover them in a creamy white. It’s impossible not to moan with shaky breaths, whispering his name. He figures the wait was worth it. His dreams couldn’t have prepared him for the real thing. It was more noisy, was more sticky, and it was.. real.

What do you taste like?

Your hips shake as he suddenly removes his fingers from you. You whimper, annoyed by the absence of the touch of fingers on your wet walls, but you stop yourself when you see his movements in the mirror. His mouth wraps around his middle and ring finger, sucking your juices to the fullest. Your breathing stops when he moans, “You taste so fucking good.”

Connie silently pulls you up from your seat and presses you against the nearest wall, causing the ripped dress to fall to the floor. Instantly, your back arched into the prominent bulge that was pressing on your bare ass. Your thoughts wander back to your last session with Connie in the backroom. All that desperate grinding.

“You were squeezing so tight around my fingers,” He pushes his sweat down to remove his throbbing hard dick with a little effort. “Y’gonna squeeze my dick like that next?”

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

You jump every time the base of his cock slaps down on your ass. Both of his hands grip your sides, his eyes rolling back as he slides his dick back and forth in between your leaking pussy lips.

“Oh f-fuck! Connie,”

Your voice cracks when you call out for him, and he smiles. He cannot deny that this is the perfect thing; it was always meant to be like this. He spreads your cheeks as wide as he can, lining his tip up to your hole that’s clenching around nothing.

“Yeah, b-baby?” Fuck, you were so wet. “Want me to fuck you? Want- Oh fuck. Want Connie to make you scream?”

Your lips tremble, and you try to slide his dick inside you by pushing your hips back. He lets you, too weak himself, to stop you from taking what you wanted. All you can think right now is Connie, Connie, fucking Connie.

“Shittt. Want y-y’to to make me cum! P-please!”

Pushing him even further inside without his help proves to him that you truly want him to make you scream. You’re barely making it halfway with his thick and long build. Connie is incredibly proud of you right now, taking his dick like a desperate bitch and moaning to fuck the rest of his inches in.

He pulls a little of himself out of you, only to flush his hips abruptly against yours with one single push. Groaning at the same time you gasp out, he whispers in your ear, “Scream for daddy, mama.”

You were so full. His cock tip was touching places that you’ve never been to on your own before, causing your mind to go haywire. His pressure against your cervix was so intense it would have been painful if you weren’t so wet. You oblige almost embarrassingly quickly the moment you feel his dick drag at a steady pace inside of you.

Connie regrets not having done this sooner, as the drugs he took earlier are still mixing in his system, alternating and speeding up his thoughts. His body was ablaze. You’re covering the entire length of his dick with your juices, causing him to become frantic and desperate to get more out of you. His thrusts match his crave. You were warm, and your cries were heaven to his ears, “Big! Y’re so b-big, daddy!”

You’re not complaining, far from it, as he tears your pussy to shreds. In fact, you’re taking him so well, and he praises you for it. Like he said, you were made for this moment, for him. You’re such a,

“Good girl. Fuck! My g-good girl takes me so well,”

He can hear your slick drip on the floor below you despite the smacking sound in your room. You’re so needy for him, as he is for you. The walls echoed with your wailing sounds as you fucked him back, making Connie shudder.

He’s gonna cum. He can feel his balls churning as they slap repeatedly against your twitching clit. Fuck. He’s gonna cum so deep inside you he prays it reaches your womb. Although it’s his first time exploring the depths of your perfect cunt, he recognizes that you’re also going to cum.

He can tell by the way your legs are shaking rapidly, by the way, your moans get higher in pitch, by the way, you’re whispering his name out like a prayer. And he’s determined to make you cum before him. Do you squirt? Do you cream? He thinks he’ll die and go to heaven if it’s both. Your next plea erupts another groan to tumble out his mouth,

“M’gonna- M’gonna cum! O-oh fuck- M’gonna cum so h-hard.”

Holding your arms behind your back with his tatted hand, he moves his hips inside you at a faster pace than ever before. “Shit. Me t-too, mama.” He angles his waist to keep pressing into that spongy spot that makes you tremble. “Just like that. Cum, baby. C-cum all over this fat dick.”

Small tears start to fall down your brown cheeks, and your back arches sharply on Connie, causing your stomach to clench at once. The man above you receives both your cream and squirt splashing from your sweet core, and you weep. Your muffled moans fill the air as he cranes your neck towards him for a nasty, drooling kiss.

As he gets closer to his orgasm, his rapid thrusts become sloppy and crazed, and his heart beats twice as fast as he sees the beauty fucked out underneath him. The more Connie moved inside of you, the more he swayed. Your essence was covering his lower half so much that he couldn’t wait another minute before dumping his kids against your cervix, a shaky moan accompanying his release.

His thrusts slow down, causing tiny drops to spill onto the floor, but his lips never leave yours, and he has to remind himself to let you breathe when you start to whine against his mouth. He lets you go and instead presses tiny kisses against your panting mouth.

Both of you, Connie in particular, were on cloud nine. Your clenching onto him brings Connie’s mind back to Earth, but he is not satisfied. He wanted to go again. He needed it, so it was only natural he started moving at a steadfast pace inside you again.

“Again. Let’s go a-again, mama. Shitt. Your pussy is so-”

Before that night, you’ve never experienced pleasure on this level. Connie took you, on every corner of the house. Both of you left unaware of Eren’s multiple missed calls as he fucked his cum into you like a dog in heat. It’s safe to say that you didn’t show up for work that night or the night after. Connie made sure you never danced at a strip club again.

@hatake05 @thickbihhwitdagapp 🫶🏾

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1percentcharge · 2 years

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The boroughs of New York City ranked by how feminist their names are

1. Queens. Needs no explanation

2. Brooklyn (a girl’s name, according to my experience with the Sims 4 name randomizer)

3. The Bronx. Bron sounds like brawn but of course physical strength does not have to be associated with either men or women. So um. Its going in the middle

4. Staten Island

5. Manhattan. Literally has man in the name

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thekissofaphrodite · 4 months

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OMGG!! THIS IS AMAZING!! LUKE AS A GIRL DAD IS MAKING ME FEEL SO HAPPY

Family, Luke

Luke Castellan X Daughter of Aphrodite!Reader

Summary: Giving Luke Castellan a second chance to be a partner and the father he never was.

Warnings: Kissing, Near death experience, mentions of dead bodies and flashbacks of smut and teen pregnancy.

Author's note: This is requested! I do not support teen pregnancy, Please practice safe sex! LUKE IS 23 IN THIS TIMELINE!! and reader is 20! Luke and the reader became flings at age 19 and 18!

The battle scene was horrifying.

dead bodies of demigods who fought bravely had been scattered all around manhattan. Their divine blood staining the road, the hot scorching sun kissing their bodies.

Your breath hitched as you tried not to step on dead bodies, the putrid odour and lifeless eyes staring back at you were enough to make you gag as flies and insects crawled on the cold bodies While mumbling something incoherently, you clutched the gigantic green tumbler you brought filled with ambrosia, Your kaleidoscope eyes searching for someone.

Then, You saw him.

Luke.

His face was still handsome, even from the distance

You saw the blood pooling in his mouth while it dripped down his chin. The knife embedded under his left arm.

Without even thinking, you ran towards Luke, kneeling beside him. He was choking on his own blood,When he saw you, He smiled, His eyes gleaming with tears as he looked up at you. You came, That's what his smiled meant. the hermes boy tried to say something—But failed. His calloused palms reached your cheeks as you scrambled, opening the tumbler Cap.

"I'm here, Luke. Stay with me and hold on"

The time was ticking, and every second that had passed could be Luke's end. But the bottle wasn't cooperating. It seems like the Fates were telling you something. You used your strength to open it, glancing at Luke every second, scared and anxious.

Then, With a strong force, the tumbler opened. You smiled while you sighed in relief. Some of the ambrosia were spilt. But you couldn't care less.

You poured down the ambrosia down unto Luke's throat, not caring if his own blood mixed with the nectar. All you cared about was for him to live.

Your daughter can't grow up without a father.

The ambrosia was drunken by Luke, Despite him choking a little. You prayed to every gods you could think of to save him, He loves you and you love him, That was everything.

As the tumbler's ambrosia began to slowly empty, its contents drained down Luke's throat. The Hermes boy began to regain strength. He didn't know if the Gods still had mercy upon him..Or the Fates just played tricks, because seeing your presence after years was clearly a surprise.

Yet here you are. Caressing his soft brown curls, Waiting for him, Ever so beautiful with your soft frown filled with worry.

"C'mon, Luke..Say something" you ushered, tears threatening to spill from your kaleidoscope eyes.

He groaned, And for the first time, He said something.

"Hey Beauty," that old nickname that he called you when you two were still flings at camp halfblood rolled smoothly off his tongue, It got you tearing up, He smiled weakly as you hugged him, Luke hissed, You noticed that you squished his fresh wound. You chuckled, still sniffling whilst you helped Luke up.

Luke stumbled lightly, grasping your arms for support.

"So...Kronos, Hm?" You joked, Trying to enlighten his mood, Surprisingly, He chuckled. wiping the blood of his chin.

"I haven't seen you in years"

"Things happen, Luke." You looked away, The thought of keeping your daughter away from his still bothers you. It was maddening. So maddening, You wanted to kiss him and tell him that your daughter was waiting for him at home, desperately wanting your daughter to run up to him and whisper 'Dad'

"Hey.." He cupped your cheeks, His eyes meeting yours as you leaned against his touch, "Tell me everything, Why did you leave?" He asked.

"Remember that head counselor party that you hosted years ago? My sister snuck me with her..."

Flashback

The loud booming sound of rock music coming from the hermes cabin was enough make you cringe, let alone the very short party dress that your sister, Tania lend you, It revealed a not so friendly amount of skin on your thighs.

"Tania, can we please go back? I don't wanna go anymore, " you whispered to your older sister while pulling the dress down, She rolled her eyes and slapped your hands away.

"Out of all the hundred siblings we have, you chose me to accompany you to a party hosted by Luke Castellan himself?!" You screamed, earning a few glances from the campers, but you ignored them aside and picked up your pace, trying to keep up with your sister, Tania.

"This party happens once in a lifetime! Mr. D and Chiron are away! that makes it even better" Squeled Tania as you two reached the entrance of Cabin 11.

Suddenly, The door swung open, revealing luke castellan in a button up shirt, cargo pants and a red cup with liquor. The moment he saw you, you could've sworn you saw his eyes brighten.

"Tania! I see you brought Y/n, This is a counselor only party" Luke smirked, But Tania pulled you closer to her, Winking at Luke.

"She's gorgeous, Castellan. Make her an exception. Would you like that I brought Victoria instead—"

"—Gods no—"

"—Then let sweet y/n inside! Don't you think that I don't know about your ungodly teenage thoughts about her—" Luke pushed Tania inside as she cackled and ran towards her friends leaving you alone with Luke.

The cabin was decorated with colorful party strings and fallen confetti on the floor, Along with a wonky banner hung on the middle of the room saying; Head Counselors party! Come and join us (Companions allowed if they have atleast stolen wine from Mr. D's stash)

You chuckled. Thinking that Chris probably made that banner.

In the corner, You saw a small bar with spilled liquor and and messily scattered cups.

You poured yourself a drink, Mindlessly rocking to the booming music behind you, Then, You saw a tall silhouette towering behind you. The familiar curls on the shadows says so that it was none other than luke.

"Hey beauty, are you enjoying?" He asked, Keeping an eye on you while he sipped his drink, You nodded and did the same, Watching your sister tania flirt with a Hephaestus boy.

"Why did you let me in? you specifically said 'No companions allowed' " That question caught him off guard as he chuckled softly.

"Can I not make an exception? Tania said that afterall"

"What about those 'Ungodly thoughts' about me?"

"You mean what I imagine underneath that pretty dress of yours?" He whispered, Loud enough for you to hear.

His hands reached the strap of your red dress, He slipped it and made it fall, Revealing an excessive amount of your shoulders and neck. His long fingers caressing your neck all the way down to your breasts made you shiver. You looked around, Trying to see if anyone was watching before luke pulled you into a searing kiss, Grabbing your hips and wrapping your legs around his waist as he brought you into the bathroom.

It all happened so fast with a simple click of the door's lock.

The dress bunched up your hips, Luke's cargo pants pulled down mid thighs, His lips sucking your neck while he thrusted swiftly inside you, The skin slapping and your moans were muffled by the loud sound of music.

"Luke—"

"I know, Baby, I know just— Hold on—Fuck!" His hips shook, So did your legs as your head fell back in pleasure while his hot seed filled you up, spilling a little.

The sound of heavy panting was broke by you, Wiping the mess he made on your inner thighs.

"So, this is the ungodly thoughts?"

"mhm" He hummed quietly while tucking his shirt in, He looked at you for a moment before kissing your forehead and whispered; "I love you"

Before you could even reply, The bathroom door was shut.

——

It had been weeks since you and Luke snuck out together, It was all a blur.

He was busy tending new campers, Befriending lonely newbies and keeping his cabin on track while you were in the bathroom...Puking...

"This is what I'm telling you! Drinking booze and shit at Castellan's party is the last thing you wanna do!" Your sister Tania had scolded you, she got your hair up in a ponytail while she patted your back aggressively.

"You know what? Fuck it, I'm too busy for this shit" She groaned and left, Leaving you alone.

When the sight was clear, you pulled out a boxed pregnancy test you bought (sneaking out of the border just to buy overpriced pregnancy tests from a cheap pharmacy wasn't cool)

Shutting the bathroom stall shut, You pulled down your underwear and waited for the results.

Those five minutes were the longest of your life.

And when two lines appeared, You exhaled a breath you never knew you held.

You stared at the wall, Rethinking your life choices at the meantime, Luke was your first and Last.

He's the father.

Gathering up courage, you got up and took and took a deep breath before walking out the bathroom, towards the apollo cabin where your siblings awaits.

"Is tania here?" You asked one of your siblings, But they shook their heads, Noticing that you're pale and clammy.

"Y/n? are you sure you're alright?" Asked Gracie, but you smiled weakly and nodded.

"I'll be fine, Just a little stomach ache"

Oh it was more than that...

Your day went on with you laying on your bed, sobbing quietly inside the apollo cabin waiting for your older sister, Tania.

When she entered the cabin, You immediately wiped your tears and composed yourself, walking towards her wobbly.

"I don't have time for whatever shit you've done Y/n, I'm busy—"

"I passed a test" You said.

Her eyes then widened.

"Oh Gods..You mean— THE test for your final semester in high school? I told you you'd pass! We should celebrate! Wait— We should get some balloons and—"

"—Tania—"

"—should we invite Sophie Davies from Cabin 4? She's bitchy but fun to hang out with—"

"—It's a pregnancy test"

There was a deafening silence.

"What."

"It's a pregnancy test—"

"Shut up. I heard you the first time! Who's is it?" She whispered.

"Luke Castellan"

Your sister, Tania stepped away and shook her head.

"You're on your own now, I will not be taking care of those pathetic excuses I call a sibling, Let alone a goddamn baby" Tears spilled from your eyes as Tania slammed the door shut.

The Apollo Cabin was gloomy and dark despite it's residents and campers being offsprings of the sun, You looked around and saw her bags, It wasn't long before you're sneaking out the camp boarder, Thinking about Luke.

"I— We did... God knows what inside the bathroom, and I got—" You inhaled sharply, Your fist curled up into a ball whilst your nails dug into your skin.

"I got pregnant...I didn't know how or what to tell you..and I was a kid..and I was scared so I ran away, I ran to my father's old apartment and got a job as a waitress at this dingy old restaurant owned by married immigrants and I only make seven dollars an hour and at that time May was born and the hospital bills are insane so I gotta borrow some cash from my dad and pay it off— Gods it makes me wanna cry seeing May without a father— I can't live it up to myself— When she started kindergarten she was crying when I picked her up, And I was refraining myself to burst into tears infront of her since I need to be strong for her"

That immediate break down had Luke frozen.

All these years that you disappeared, You were struggling all alone, with your daughter you just had. He wanted to kiss you and say 'It's alright, I'm here' But isn't it too late for that now?

"You hid her away from me, Why?" His voice barely a whisper.

"I was afraid what you'll do to her the same thing happened to those halfbloods, she deserves more than that. I want to teach her who she is before your family tells her what they want her to be"

"I'm sorry I wasn't there" That's the only thing that Luk could ever say, Guilt washing all over him like pouring rain.

"You're here now. You're the hero of the great Prophecy"

"I want to be the father I never was to May" Tears rolled down his eyes as you hugged him tightly, Your head placed against his chest where you can feel his heartbeat.

"May's with my aunt.." Luke smiled and kissed your forehead.

"I wouldn't mind visiting"

There was a car honking in the distance, When the passenger door opened, It revealed your aunt carrying May.

"Look— HEY! Y/N!" Yelled your aunt as she ran towards you, May squealing as she was bounced around.

"Mommy!" Squeled the little girl as she thrashed around your aunt's arms, Begging for you to carry her.

"Is this the baby daddy?" Your aunt asked, Her brows raised and her hands on her hips looking Luke up and down.

you nudged her on her ribs and gave her a look, She rolled her eyes and got back to her car.

The little girl in your arms looked at her father, titling her head in confusion before grabbing his curls, She giggled and looked at her same curly hair tied in pigtails.

"We're the same, Hm?" Luke smiled at his daughter, The little girl gave the same smile before shyly wrapping her tiny arms around Luke's neck.

The sight of them wanted to make your heart melt.

Everything that Luke has ever done was unforgivable. But all that matters now was your family.

A/N

Hey lovies!! I finally finished a request! sorry for not posting for a long time, Believe me when I say that I snuck my phone away in class so many times just to update, but here I am! I used one of Sally's lines from the series here I hope you guys don't mind 😉

Requested by @rainestorm2556 <33

#percy jackon and the olympians #xy/n #thekissofaphrodite #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader

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astroboots · 1 year

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EVERY YOU EVERY ME: Issue #2

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Your streak of bad luck continues as you find that the universe is not done putting you in harm's way. Luckily, you have grouchy Spider-man to save you.

Word count: 3,500 words.

Content: Slowest of the burn, near death experiences, the emotional whiplash of Miguel O'Hara being a rude bastard and a total softie.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

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According to an article that ran in the New York Times: one out of every 40 New Yorkers will have a run in with a Superhero in the time they live here.

That might not sound like much, but considering that nearly 8.5 million people live in this city, it adds up to a lot of people. In fact, most in your friends circle have their own anecdotal story to tell.

I ran into Tony Stark at the Brandy Library and he asked me for my phone number. Bit of a sleaze but he bought our whole table a round of drinks.

Captain America landed on my Fiat on Manhattan Bridge. He dented the roof, but he was very polite about it.

Daredevil was hanging out at the fire escape ladder above the Meatball shop. Gave me tips on what to order.

It's nothing short of a miracle that having lived in this city for as many years as you have that this is the first time you've had a Supes encounter.

It'll be a great story to tell at parties. You fell out of the Chrysler building and were rescued mid-air. It blows all the other stories out of the water. Though, you'll probably leave out the part where he wished he'd left you to die.

You stare blindly at your computer screen. There are endless rows of cells on your excel sheet no matter how far you scroll. Uninterrupted numbers and reference codes for insurance claims that are waiting for your attention. But the numbers and letters all blend into an indecipherable sludge soup. All you can focus on is: 'I should've let you fall.'

Heat prickles your cheek, as you replay his words in your head.

What the hell.

That was entirely unnecessary.

You didn't deserve that.

Over the course of the last 24 hours, you've played the scene on an endless loop in your head, until the memory is worn and scratched like a used up VHS tape.

Did you do something wrong? You must've. Who has ever heard of a Superhero treating a civilian in this manner? You’re just a hapless innocent bystander who fell out of a building due to a supervillain battle they started. To blame it on you and then call it a mistake. Isn't that something a supervillain would do?

Gritting your teeth, you feel yourself seething of the memory of the windows next to you breaking and shattering out of nowhere as a bird-person villain with mechanical wings tumbled past you. Next thing you knew you were tumbling out the window.

And then he saved you.

Did he mean to save someone else? Is that why he was so annoyed? But, you didn't see any other people falling from the building on your way down.

You replay the memory. Again.

The looming silhouette of his towering frame over yours as he sneered down at you.

He looked at you like he knew you. Like you had offended him with your mere existence. But you don't understand how. You've never met him before. Never met anyone who looked even remotely like him. You would've remembered a man with red eyes, they're not exactly common. Plus, you don't think you've ever met someone quite so tall. Your neck hurt with the angle you had to crane just to look at his face.

What could you possibly have done in your lifetime to piss off a Superhero you've never met before?

For that matter what Superhero is he anyway? You think back at the dark navy suit clinging onto every inch of skin, embellished by that bright angry red in the emblem of a spider.

Spider-man...

Except Spider-man is known to be a swell guy with a great sense of humor. Not a rude asshole.

Aren't his colors inverted too? You pull up the browser on your screen and google "spiderman outfit". There's over 800 million hits. In all of them Spiderman's suit is primarily red with blue embellishment.

Whoever the guy is, you don't think he's your friendly neighborhood Spiderman that every New Yorker knows and loves.

With a hapless sigh, you click aimlessly on your screen, trying to look busy at work for the next twenty minutes until you can go on your lunch break. You go through the motions of your soul sucking tasks. Tagging each insurance claim into one of the following categories: approved/rejected/further missing information required.

Peering over your cubicle wall to the wall of windows, you spy the section that has been zoned off since yesterday. The broken window you were knocked out of has already been replaced, but there's still shattered glass and debris nearby.

Your stomach drops, the phantom sensation of the ground beneath you giving way. For a brief second you swear you can feel the weightlessness of soaring through the skies without anything catching your fall.

You stand up from your desk, solid ground meeting the soles of your feet to remind you where you are.

The office.

There's a monotone drone of workers all around you grumbling and sighing just as unhappily. The quiet tip-tapping of keyboards of the working masses.

Is this the life you managed to escape death for?

Is this it?

It's kind of sad isn't it? You nearly died and lived to tell the tale, only to return to a life so unremarkable your brain didn't deign it necessary to provide you with any highlights (cause there are none).

The most exciting thing that has happened to you the whole of this year was being insulted by a grumpy superhero. The most you've wanted to live was during that span of ten seconds when you were falling out of a building to your death.

You glance at your clock, still 15 minutes before noon. You log out of your desktop anyway.

You barely make it across the street from your office. The light is green as you cross Lexington Avenue when the screeching noise of tires tears down the street and rips through your eardrums.

A yellow taxi hurtles towards you at full speed. Through the car window separating you, the cab driver is staring up at you with wide-eyed horror. In that fraction of a second before the hard metal is going to collide and shatter every bone in your body, you only have one thought: Oh god, this is going to hurt.

Life doesn't flash before your eyes. All you see is the familiar blur of shiny blue and red.

Go figure that's the only moment extraordinary enough for your brain to think it's worth replaying before you die.

There's a blunt and forceful shove to the side of your ribs. Softer than you would've imagined a two tonne vehicle slamming into you would be. It doesn't hurt. It reminds you of that time you played football with your cousin and he body slammed you to the lawn. You've heard about this phenomena, the brain will try to protect itself by going unconscious if the pain is too extreme.

But there's no bright light, when you open your eyes all you see is the familiar shiny blue fabric.

A firm weight wraps around your shoulders, and you recognize this, the feeling of being held as you're pulled into their solid chest. There's not enough time for you to look up, you're slammed onto the ground, the solid warmth wrapped around you, absorbing the fall.

The pressure wrapped around you shifts then lifts away entirely. When you open your eyes for a second time, there’s no one there holding you.

There's no one else there with you. Just the standstill traffic of cars and pedestrians gawking at you.

A concerned woman runs over to you, bending down to help you up on your feet. "Are you okay? That car came out of nowhere."

Your legs feel unsteady, wobbling as you put weight on it to stand up.

“I’m fine, I think,” you respond, and look down on yourself. There are no scrapes, just a bit of dust on your work-attire from traffic.

"You're so lucky, Spiderman was there to save you."

You blink up at the woman in dazed confusion and it takes your brain a few seconds to process what she's telling you.

Spider-man...

In your mind's eye the flashes of blue and a vivid red invades your vision. It wasn't just your life flashing you by. Not just a figment of your imagination.

He was here. He saved you. (Probably not) Spider-man saved you (again).

A wave of gratitude washes over you. You take back every unflattering thought you had about the man not five minutes ago. Rude? Would a rude man save you, not once but twice in one day? No, of course not, you probably just misunderstood him, or misheard. After all, if he truly regretted saving you, he wouldn't have done it a second time... right?

When you get back at your desk, there's a post-it tacked to your computer screen, with an angry scrawl of a handwriting.

'Look BOTH ways before crossing!!!!!'

You stare at the note, and the way the word "both" is capitalized and aggressively underlined.

Rude.

The universe is out to kill you. You're sure of it.

They say that death comes in threes after all. So no one can blame you for being a little bit on the edge after you've gone two for two within the time span of 24 hours.

You stay away from windows in tall buildings. You look both ways, twice, before crossing the street. You try to go straight home from work the minute you clock out from work, turning down any and all initiations with friends to go out after out of precaution. It's just not worth the risk.

And for a while it seems to work. For a while, there are no more incidents. A week goes by and your nerves start to settle and you are lulled into a temporary sense of security before it all goes to shits.

A ceramic flower pot on a windowsill tumbling off the sixth floor of a brown house by Chelsea that would have dropped on your head and split your skull if someone hadn't bumped into you from behind that you weren’t able to catch sight of.

A piece of scaffolding that comes loose and falls from a construction site in West Village as you happened to walk past, and would have been crushed under if you weren’t tackled away at the last second by someone who fled the scene before you could thank them.

A hot dog cart runs amok, hurtling downhill towards you between 184th and 190th street in Manhattan when the cart suddenly out of nowhere, against the very laws of physics like it’s being pulled by an invisible force and changes direction mere inches in front of you, hurtling through the air and crashing into the windows of a bodega instead.

Each and every incident leaves you with an ever growing sense of paranoia that this cannot be explained away by being merely pure bad luck. There are cosmic forces at force that clearly want you dead.

On Thursday, there are leftover cupcakes from a client conference. Mary, the secretary in your team, boxes up four of them for you and tells you to take them with you, because, "you've had a rough week, toots."

It’s not a flattering assessment of you, but when you see your own reflection in the mirrors of the office toilets, you can’t help but think it’s an accurate one. You look rough. Eyes bloodshot with deep furrowed lines underneath. Your face is gaunter than you remember seeing it too.

You take the cupcakes.

It's the first good thing that has happened to you all week, and as small of a comfort it is, you take it as a win.

You eye the box from your desk the rest of the day, squirreled away in your tiny cubicle. You are determined not to eat one while at work. Because you'll be damned if Matt from accounting catches a whiff of your cupcakes and asks you to share one with him. You want to properly savor them in the comfort of your home at the end of the day.

But as often is the case when you have something to look forward to, the seconds, minutes and hours tick away with a reluctant drag as if time itself knew you wanted the day to end faster and decided it'd be fun to flip yet another cosmic middle finger in your direction.

When it's finally time to end work, you get off your chair so forcefully it knocks it to the floor. You are practically jogging through the lanes of cubicles to get to the elevator, and nearly smack the security guard on the other side with how hard you swing open the front door.

It's pouring outside, which, of course it is. You take off your jacket and cover your cupcake box with it, because you're not going to let the universe ruin the one good thing you've got going for you this week, as you run towards the station.

The moment you step into the damp and sticky station any remaining sense of joy in you evaporates. There's a hoard of tourists swarming the subway paying no attention to their surroundings. Tourists wearing their caps and backpacks and wheelies knocking over a 'Caution Wet Floor ' sign as they gather in a throng in front of the subway map, blocking the way as you hear the train approach.

It's not that big of a deal. A train comes every two to five minutes, and if you miss this one, you'll just get on the next one. It's not the end of the world. Logically, you know that. Emotionally and spiritually however, the world around you has just taken a little bit too much from you for you to concede to this minor little loss.

You are going to make this goddamned train.

Taking a determined step forward, you shoulder and push your way through the throng of people to fight your way to the front of the track.

You push a little too hard. Your feet skid across the slippery tiles, leg buckling from your own weight and you lose control, tumbling forward.

In your peripheral view there's a blinding light approaching. There's wind beating the sides of your face, and you can hear the screeching metal of the train right next to you. Your foot drops into empty space and you are falling into the tracks.

Oh god why...

Why?

You just want to live.

The cupcake box flies out of your grip, splattered somewhere across the front pane of the train. There's a hard tug on your shirt as an invisible force you cannot see yanks you back, hard.

Your head whips back and for a fraction of a second, there are crimson eyes staring back down at you, you blink and then it's gone.

You land on your ass with a bruising force to your tailbone with a bone-breaking thud. The subway whizzes by with a demonic roar past you, inches from where you're sprawled on your ass on the dirty tiles of the subway station.

In front of your feet, there's a long streak of white frosting trailing down from your feet to the tracks of what looks like a crime scene.

Maybe it's the stress. Maybe you've just had a bad night of sleep (after many successive bad nights with little to no sleep). But something in you breaks at the sight of the frosting smeared across the dirty subway tiles.

Your eyes sting with exhaustion. Chest drawing in tight with a crumbling ache that makes you want to curl up on the cold tiles. You're just so tired.

There are people around you staring at you. No one in their right mind who lives in New York would sit on the floor of the subway.

But your legs are heavy and numb. You can’t move from the spot. Everything tastes like bile. You try to swallow and force it back down but it's no use, your throat has swollen shut. Your cheeks run wet and you press your palms to your eyes to make it stop but that only seems to make it worse. Snot runs down your nose and drips down your wrist. You're crying and you don't know how to stop.

Is this the rest of your life?

In the morning, you wake in your bed with a sore ache that gnaws at your bones. Swollen eyes and a soreness that scratches the lining of your throat.

Your back hurts, and as you try to turn to your side to get out of bed a sharp pain surges up along your entire spine.

Fuck.

It's too bright. The sunlight is offensive. It stings your eyes and makes you sick to your stomach. You only have vague memories of how you made it back home. Feet shuffling through the subway in a daze like the walking dead.

God is that what you are? A dead man woman walking?

You crane your head and catch a glimpse of your clock on the bedside table. 9.13 You're late for work. But that's mind as well, you don't have it in you to make it in.

What's the point anyhow? You hate that place.

Besides, if the subway on the way over doesn't finish off the job this time around, then eventually a taxi will. Failing that the universe is probably going to send over a ninja assassin rat from the subway to come after your life.

There's a soft breeze coming in from the open window that grazes the back of your neck and you turn your head towards it. All you can see from your window is the brick wall of the neighboring building. Even though your apartment is on the sixth floor, you can't see a speck of the New York skyline.

Still the breeze is nice, though you don't remember opening the window last night. You never usually do. It is silly and paranoid. No human robber could possibly climb up your six storey building just to climb into your window and rob you. If they could, they’d find that there isn’t much to rob in your apartment, the most valuable thing you own is a complete Le Creuset Cookware set.

Your eyes glaze over your work tote bag on the floor next to the window, drifting upwards and spot the pink box sat on the window sill and you stop.

You didn’t put that there.

You sit upright in your bed, setting your feet to the floor and force yourself to leave your bed as you pad over to the open window.

It's a fancy looking thing. Baby pink, and chiffon ribbon on its side. Wrapping your pinkie around it, you tug it loose. You perch your thumb against the corner of the lid when you stop.

It's not another one of the universe's assassination attempts is it? You're not going to open it to find a bomb ticking down are you?

You hesitate for another moment, taking a deep calming breath before you gather the courage to finally lift the lid. Inside, there is a gorgeous display of cupcakes adorned with white and pink frosting, topped with strawberries, chocolate shavings and on two of them there's mini macarons.

Way fancier than the day old Costco cupcakes you'd lost yesterday.

Picking up one, you take a bite. The frosting is light and zesty. The refreshing lemon melts on the tip of your tongue as the buttery cream floods your mouth with the rich flavor. It's the best thing you've ever tasted.

Lifting the box, you check the sides of it to see if there's any note left behind, but there's none.

Gladis Bakery. It's from a bakery you've never heard of before. When you google the name the place is outside of New Jersey, 58 minutes away and you would need to take a subway then switch to a tram.

There's no note attached, but you don't need one. The list of candidates who would be physically able to climb up six floors up the bricks of your apartment building to leave cupcakes on your window isn’t a long one.

Something warm blooms in your chest at the thought, and your fingers linger on the top of the box, savoring the taste of lemon and sugar still lingering on your tongue.

You put your head out the window, not sure what you're expecting to find but find yourself disappointed all the same when there's nothing there. No people in the quiet street below, and nothing unusual above.

"Thank you for uhm... saving me,” you say into the silence with nothing but the traffic noise below to answer you.

“And the cupcakes," you add.

There's no reply.

~ To be continued.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #marvel #miguel ohara x reader #oscar isaac #spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you

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go-see-a-starwar · 5 months

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THR: Even if you don’t work with someone on camera, there’s still a good chance of bumping into them at Manhattan Beach Studios. Was there a day where you were loitering near set and had an unexpected encounter?

Eman Esfandi: My most interesting encounter was when I was first getting to my stunt rehearsals. They have a stunt gym, and one day, as I was stretching and warming up, I just heard two people going crazy with some choreography. You could hear their sticks and their steps. (Esfandi mimics the sound effects.) And I was like, “Whoa!” It was an explosion of choreography that was a minute long, and when I turned to look around, there was this massive, statuesque man in a gray shirt. I didn’t recognize him off the top of my head, but he was just pummeling one of the stunt doubles that I know. So I went over to watch these guys spar up close, and then I realized it was Hayden Christensen. He’s huge. He’s a towering presence, and he’s so good at this. I didn’t know how good he was, because I hadn’t watched the prequels yet. And so I watched someone in real time who’s been put down in history and in this story for being one of the best with a lightsaber. So I was just like, “Oh my God, this guy is so good.” And then they were like, “Eman, you ready to start?” And I’m like, “Yes! When do I get to do that stuff? That’s my goal now.” So it was really exciting to meet him, and for a lot of other people, that would’ve been an even more insane experience. I just didn’t totally recognize him at the time.

The Hollywood Reporter - ‘Ahsoka’ Star Eman Esfandi Fulfilled His Own ‘Star Wars’ Prophecy: “I’m Going to Play Ezra”

#’massive’ ‘statuesque’#‘he’s huge. he’s a towering presence and he’s so good at this’#thank you for this eman #being in total awe and also instantly forming a little crush is so Ezra of him #hayden christensen #eman esfandi #interviews #ahsoka series #text #the hollywood reporter

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tenbrackets · 2 months

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I hope the watcher focuses less on the iterators and is more of a return to the mystery, nature, and pulse of the original ecosystem.

I do enjoy Downpour, but the “rat in Manhattan” vibe is much more special to me than the “game-ified” experience of downpour. I enjoyed being a simple creature uncovering a story -not my story- by accident, trekking through all the regions for a colored pearl and a few lines of text.

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nyuuronfly · 7 months

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On Rain World lore and it's implementation within the game.

This is kindof a random ramble I went on in a Discord chat and just feel like sharing elsewhere. (also note this is all primarily in reference to the original game, Survivor's story.)

I honestly think too many miss the forest for the trees a bit with RW, in terms of how important the lore is, if that makes sense. I talked with somebody about first-time experiences with the game and they said they'd watched a number of lore explanation videos on YT before starting, because of some reason along the lines of "I didn't trust the game to deliver its own story properly." To me this is almost saddening to hear because I really feel that misses the point of why the game has it's lore to begin with.

To me, while playing, any tidbits i learned about history or other information contributed to a feeling like the world I was navigating had a very real history that saturated it, yet one that I would be unable to grasp fully. It is an illusory feeling of realness, given how it is experienced. The game is mechanically not designed to incentivize collecting many information pearls, especially when in the original game you can literally just drop them off a cliff and lose them forever. You get the feeling often like you are bound to never be able to get everything, nor would you even probably want to put in the effort, so the illusion actually stays stronger because of that. Your mind wanders speculating about every little detail, whether intention truly existed behind it or not, because it feels like it did. You learned that it might have. Maintaining that illusion while playing I think is the primary reason they were included, not actually the experience of "knowing" the history. Rain World in general seems to have a thematic fixation on the simple idea that individuals have limited perspectives. Joar Jakobsson has said that one of the core ideas behind Rain World was to recreate the life of a "rat in Manhattan." That is to say, a creature that understands how to find food, hide, and live in a complex man-made structure, that cannot understand it's structuring purpose or why it was built. The very core issue of the iterators, is that the solution to the "great problem" intrinsically has to lie with knowledge that could only be obtained from "the other side." They are corporeal beings trying to know something that pertains to something outside corporeal reality. Yet pursuit of knowledge is very important to creatures like ourselves. Collecting any individual pearl is mostly an exercise in doing a lot just for little bits of knowledge. There is a lot of understanding of just how significant wanting to know more is, even something unimportant, when you are left in the dark the way you are in the game. Most information pearls you deliver are literally completely useless to know about, but they feel personally important, especially in how finding them relates to your connection to the iterators. My primary motivation to find pearls in my first play was to spend more time with Moon. On a very real emotional level, Moon felt like my only friend in the world while I played. On a mechanical level, she does literally nothing. But Rain World manages to operate on a very emotional, even instinctual level with how it's designed. I wanted to be in her company and have something to give her. Because I am alone, and lost. So something along those lines is why I felt saddened to hear the sentiment like Rain World somehow "fails" to deliver it's "story." The purpose of the game is not to find pearls and hear about some grand narrative. At it's core, Rain World is a game that's design was inspired by nature, and it's use of history within the world relates to us as a player the way history relates to us as people. It is relayed through people reading from records created by parties with their own perspectives, and connects us abstractly to a sensation that there is more out there than our own lives. That is a feeling you have as a player, and ultimately the true story that Rain World tells is the memories you have playing it. What you did, saw, and felt. The same as how our story is that of our own lives. That is the purpose of the game.

#rain world #just rambling

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sunflowersandsapphires · 1 month

Text

Short Frank Drabble

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: Frank is a sweetheart when you aren’t feeling well.

warnings: swearing (I guess?), Frank being sweet, chronic pain mentions

a/n: my chronic pain has been so bothersome this week so I wrote this as catharsis. I hope you all like it!

w/c: 1.2k

Standing barefoot in the sun-streaked kitchen, you let the soft breeze waft over you as it drifted through the open window. The sounds of the city were carried to you atop the wisp of air–the beeps of early morning traffic, the distant sounds of machinery from the nearest construction site. Louder than the Manhattan ambiance, the pair of songbirds nesting on your balcony chirped and twittered. It was beautiful, serene.

Yet, from your place in front of the sink, your teeth ground together as you sluggishly scrubbed at the pan in your loose grip. Every joint in your body was pulsing with agony–a consequence of an injury you never incurred. This wasn’t a new experience. In fact, it was quite common, which was why you were frustratedly washing dishes until your painkillers kicked in.

You had tried to hold out, but after three irritating days and two sleepless nights courtesy of this renewed pain, you’d caved and thrown back a pair of ibuprofen on top of your prescription. There were a handful of reasons that could have contributed to a flare-up, but that didn’t bring you any consolation. Your flare-ups were usually short, and you tended to have a better handle on them than the ineptitude you’d displayed this week.

Sighing heavily, you narrowed your eyes at the charred mark on the frying pan you were holding, setting it atop the sink’s lip to apply more pressure. Vigorously scouring dishes was probably only going to make your existence less bearable, but sitting down and wallowing as your body ached ferociously wasn’t an activity you wanted to partake in. Well, not for the third time in 24 hours.

Finally making some headway on the patch of burnt material on the pan, your face was firmly twisted with a scowl when you heard the deadbolt unlatch. As the door creaked open, you listened to your partner’s heavy footfalls down the hallway towards you.

“You’re home early.” You forced out a huff of a laugh, strained smile across your lips.

Striding over to you, Frank’s broad shadow landed on the sink as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. Squeezing you close, your back pressed flush against his chest, his chin tucking over your shoulder as he planted a kiss on your cheek.

“So? Last I checked, it ain’t a crime to run home to my girl.” He rasped deeply, tilting his forehead so it rested against your temple.

Shaking your head fondly, you leaned into Frank’s solid weight, allowing him to hold you upright. “You didn’t need to do that, Frank.”

“Who said I needed to? I wanted to, doll. Missed ya.” His voice quieted with the confession, your heart clenching with affection over his earnest tone.

“I missed you too. Always do.” You murmured, turning your face to kiss the bridge of his nose before turning back to the dishes.

“How long ya been outta bed, sweetheart?” Despite his best efforts, you spotted the concern bleeding into his words immediately.

Smile faltering, you gave a tiny shrug. “A bit. Wanted to get these done so I could cook something.”

“Shoulda told me you were hungry,” Frank frowned, stroking a thumb over your hip. “Woulda picked somethin’ up on my way back.”

“If I don’t cook the bacon in the fridge, I’ll forget about it again and it’ll go bad, so…” You trailed off, stifling a grimace at how weak the argument sounded.

Frank hummed softly, pressing a kiss to your hairline, thumb still tracing patterns into your soft skin. “Why don’t you go sit on the couch and let me finish these, yah?”

Blowing air through your nose, you felt a small burst of annoyance in your chest. “I’m almost finished. It won’t take much longer.” Your voice was tight as you tried to keep your aggravation from coloring your words. It wasn’t Frank’s fault you were in a shitty mood. He was being sweet. But the suggestion still rubbed you the wrong way.

“Hey, look at me, dollface.” Using a strong finger to draw your chin upwards, he moved his hand to cradle your jaw when your eyes met his. “I’m not askin’ to take over because you’re takin’ too long. You shouldn’t be dealin’ with this crap if it ain’t gonna help ya feel better.”

Chewing at your bottom lip, you felt the telltale prickle in your throat and tear ducts. Shying away from Frank’s intense gaze, you buried your face in his firm chest. “I can do it.”

“I know ya can, darlin’. You’re the strongest girl I know. I just don’t want ya to hurt yourself over some stupid shit like the dishes.” Cupping the back of your head, Frank held you close, shielding you from the world.

Clamping your teeth onto your lip to keep the tears welling in your eyes from falling, you didn’t respond. Frank’s jaw rubbed over your crown as he spoke again.

“Can’t feel good to be standin’ here, usin’ your hands, can it?” Lashes fluttering, you felt your cheeks grow damp as your emotions overwhelmed you.

“No.” You muttered, flexing your hands to lessen the throbbing of every joint within them.

“I ain’t gonna force ya to do anythin’, sweetheart. But these can wait until you’re feelin’ better.” Rocking you ever so slightly, Frank’s hands splayed over your back, rubbing gentle circles as he patiently waited for your decision.

“What about breakfast?” You pulled out of his embrace slightly to scrub at your face.

“I know I ain’t a genius, but I can cook a pan of bacon.” Frank chuckled, swiping a lingering tear from your chin.

“But you just got home,” You pouted, wrapping your arms around him again, nuzzling into his soft t-shirt.

“Exactly. I’m starvin’. Go sit down and I’ll make us some food.” With one final kiss to your forehead, Frank jerked a nod toward the living room. You didn’t protest when he withdrew his arms, stepping out of your embrace and towards the fridge, but you didn’t move either.

Raising an eyebrow at you, Frank cocked his head. “Did I say somethin’ wrong?”

Shaking your head fiercely, you dropped your gaze to your feet, bashfully shuffling in place. “No, just…”

“Just what, doll?”

You shrugged, insecurity churning within you. “You’re still in here.”

Smiling knowingly, Frank pulled the package of bacon and a carton of eggs from the ancient fridge, setting them next to the stove before holding up a finger. “Good point. Wait right there, sweetheart.”

Your eyes trailed after Frank as he paced towards your small dining room table. Lifting a single chair with ease, Frank carried it into the kitchen as if it was made of cardboard—setting it down to the right of the stove. “Better?”

Nodding sheepishly, you sank into the chair. “Thank you.”

Bending at the waist, Frank drew you into a kiss. “Always, sweet girl.”

Pulling your knees up onto the chair, you lay your chin atop them to watch Frank putter around the kitchen as he made breakfast. Though, this time, the smile on your face was genuine.

#frank castle #my writing #the punisher #marvel #frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle imagine #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x you #the punisher x reader #the punisher imagine #NMCU #fc #jon bernthal #jon bernthal fanfiction

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lukesandromeda · 3 months

Text

for them. l castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of athena!reader

summary: the scene in tlo where luke returns home.

a/n: i think a lot about being on the road with luke and i know it was probably the worse experience on the world sooooooo obviously i have to do something with these thoughts

probably part one of a series

there was a cut on your right shoulder, annabeth was complaining about how bad her feet hurt, and thalia wouldn’t stop sending tense glares to everyone.

“can you stop looking at me like that? i didn’t do anything.” luke growled. the four of you were walking down an alleyway a few miles into manhattan, tripping over your own sore feet. each of your weapons were still drawn, having just escaped the hellhound that’d chased you only two minutes ago.

“didn’t do anything my ass,” thalia barked. “you’re the one who insisted we fight the dog, and now my signed green day poster is chewed up in his stomach. thanks a lot, luke.”

“nobody cares about your stupid poster, thalia,” luke protested.

“obviously, i do!”

“why is that what you’re worried about? you’ve got a big gash in your leg and you’re fussing about a poster.”

annabeth looked between the two before moving closer to you, hiding her face in your arm.

“stop it, guys, shut up,” you hissed. “you’re scaring her.”

thalia went to speak, but luke kept his mouth shut after muttering a quick, sorry annabeth.

you let out a little sigh before looking at the watch on your arm. you cursed. “it’s getting late, guys.”

when neither thalia or luke answered as they kept walking, you cleared your throat and spoke again, “should we make camp?”

“we’re not stopping,” the boy said coldly, causing both thalia and you to quit walking. annabeth bumped into your arm when you stopped, and she craned her head up to look at luke.

“what?”

“i want to make it out of connecticut by the end of tomorrow,” luke said. “and it’ll only hold us back if we sleep an entire night.”

“i’m tired,” annabeth whined, gripping your shirt. you sighed before bending down to pick her up, carrying her in your right arm as you looked over at luke who stared at the little girl before she said, “i want to sleep.”

thalia hissed, and you looked over to see her falling to the ground as she desperately gripped her own leg. “shit.”

you looked at luke as both of you stopped walking. the two of you were the only people well and healthy enough at the moment to make the decision. he pursed his lips.

“where can we go?” you asked.

“i—i… we—shit. we can’t,” luke spluttered.

“where?”

he bit his lip. “we…shit.”

“speak, luke.”

he grunted. “we’re only a few miles from my house.”

“yes,” you said immediately. “we have to. we don’t have a choice.”

“but i really don’t—”

“luke, do it for them.”

he huffed, eyes avoiding your gaze as he looked at thalia, who was cursing as she wrapped the sleeve of her jacket around the wound on her thigh.

“please,” you begged, desperately tugging on the sleeve of his ragged shirt.

he let out a breath of air through his teeth before he moved out of your grip. “fine. come on.”

as the two of you started to walk again, annabeth still on your arm, thalia stood and limped after you.

the few minutes of walking was getting painful for you, and you walk became laggard as you followed the vigorous boy ahead of you. “slow down.”

he slowed at your request, muttering something under his breath.

“wait, wait, shit,” you chanted as your knees buckled. luke senses you were falling and he took annabeth from your arms as you caught yourself and moved to sit on the ground, clutching your stomach and breathing heavily.

“what? what is it?” luke asked, kneeling down. he placed a hand to your forehead after brushing the hair that was there out of the way.

“i can’t—i can’t breathe.” you panted, looking up at him only in a bit of a struggle.

he grunted before reaching behind him to grab his flash of water and pressing it to your lips. “drink.”

you sipped, choking on your spit as it mixed with the water and poured down your throat. it did help a little, you admitted to yourself as luke pulled away and brushed some hair out of your face. “you okay?”

“we need to find your house,” you whined.

“don’t worry, i know where to go,” he hummed, standing and holding out his hand.

you grabbed it, and thalia followed you, who followed luke with annabeth still in his arms. the walk was dreadful until eventually you approached a hill.

after a torturous hike up the steep ridge, you gasped in relief at the sight of a house.

“there,” luke whispered. his breath seemed to catch a bit as he froze at the sight of his house.

“it’s beautiful,” you gasped, but you shook your head and followed him when he started walking again. “thalia, you okay?”

“‘m fine.” she groaned, and you could hear her feet hitting the ground aggressively as she continued to limp.

the closer to the house you got, the more the anxiety creeped up on you. standing a few feet away from the house, you heard a loud voice saying, you shouldn’t have come back.

“uh, luke?” you said nervously. “what does that—”

“i don’t know, but we’re not turning back,” he said quickly. he walked over to the garage door and put a code into the box. it opened.

nervously, you followed him into the house. it was quiet, but the inside was beautiful, aside from the odd decorations. there were stuffed animals of monsters. medusa, the minotaur, hellhounds, the furies, even—

luke stopped, and your face smashed against his back. he put annabeth down, and you peered around him to see what he was looking at.

a woman, you guessed to be his mother, was sitting across from a man—he was wearing a navy blue tracksuit. there were shoes with wings on his feet, and he was holding a phone that had two snakes coming out of it.

“dad?” luke gasped, and the two people at the table jumped and froze.

“luke? luke!” luke’s mother—may—immediately began sobbing, running to her son. she wrapped her arms around him, trapping him in a hug. her lips kissed his forehead and all over his face aggressively, but he didn’t return any of the excitement.

he was staring ahead at hermes, horror in his eyes. “dad?” he repeated.

“where were you?” may sobbed, and luke moved her off of him.

“dad.”

hermes stood, rather reluctantly. “luke,” he swallowed.

“baby, it’s your father! aren’t you happy?” may asked, but luke began charging forward.

you ran after him, grabbing him before he could reach his father. his fists were clenched so hard that his knuckles were white. “stop. no.”

eventually, you convinced yourself that luke wouldn’t do anything violent, so you let go. he stood angrily, staring at his father with so much hate you almost shrank. hermes’ eyes went to you, and you swallowed, bowing to the god. “lord hermes.”

“y/n,” hermes acknowledged.

luke was biting his lip so hard that you expected blood to trickle down his chin. he growled, “why are you here?”

“why are you here?” hermes countered.

“i didn’t want to come back,” luke snarled. may had come over to the three of you, and she frowned at this. “i did it for my family.”

“for us?” hermes questioned.

“no,” luke scoffed. “for them.” he gestured to you, and then to thalia and annabeth.

“they’re your family?”

“yes,” luke promised.

hermes clicked his tongue. “right.”

“and they’re hurt.”

with a sigh, luke’s father nodded. “well, i am the god of travelers. and you four are very much of travelers. may, get something to take care of zeus’ daughter’s cut. not sure what’s wrong with the athenians, though.”

“they’re tired,” luke said. he was being passive aggressive, you noted, but you didn’t have the energy to scold him for it.

“come with me,” hermes said.

annabeth looked up at you with worry. you swallowed. “it’s okay, annabeth. he’s luke’s dad.”

she looked down, frowning, but nodded and squeezed your hand as you led her after hermes. he brought you to a room, just you, and left annabeth alone in a different one. “wait, lord hermes,” you cried. “annabeth. she can’t… you can’t leave her alone.”

hermes smiled. “just rest, okay? worry about your sister tomorrow.”

“what about luke?”

“i mean… i… please don’t… i— please go easy on him. we’ve had a really hard day.”

hermes nodded, a thin smile across his lips as he muttered, “okay,” and left the room.

minutes passed. you are in a master bedroom, a king size bed under you. it was the first time you’d laid against an actual bed in years. it felt so good, and you should’ve been able to fall asleep immediately, but hearing the faint sounds of an argument between luke and his father downstairs made you worry.

eventually, after about thirty minutes of laying, staring at the ceiling in worry, you heard the doorknob rattle. your eyes darted to the door, where luke was walking through.

“luke?” you asked, sitting up.

he shushed you, gesturing for you to move over. you did, and he crawled into the bed next to you. you shifted uncomfortably. “what happened?”

he shook his head, running his hands through his hair. “they… they won’t stop talking about my fate.”

“your fate?”

“i don’t know what it means. i… my dad… he doesn’t love me. he tells me does, but i’m not stupid.”

you looked away. you wanted to tell him you understood, but you knew you didn’t. you couldn’t relate; athena had always answered your prayers, visited you in dreams…

“how’s your mom?” you asked softly.

“she’s having one of her fits. that’s why my dad left. as long as she doesn’t come in here, we’ll be okay.”

you nodded. he sighed. “why aren’t you asleep?”

“i just… couldn’t sleep.”

he clicked his tongue. “i’m really sorry.”

“for what?”

“i never should have dragged you into this mess. you, thalia, and annabeth would be better without me. i just… i get so angry all the time. i don’t even know how to explain it.”

you wanted to comfort him, explain to him that you didn’t think he got angry, but you’d be kidding yourself. he had such excessive wrath that he almost scared you sometimes. you settled for, “it’s okay, luke.”

“it’s not.” you looked over at him. he was sitting upright, and he looked so angry. “i hate him. i hate her, and i hate this stupid fucking situations we’re in.”

“but it’s not your fault.”

“i didn’t say it was my fault!” he yelled, and you flinched. he rolled his eyes. “yeah, alright, it’s okay. you’re flinching because of me.”

“no, no. i’m just… on edge.”

“i saw the way you bowed to my father,” he spat the word out like it was poison. it rotted in his mouth as he continued, “like you were grateful for what he’d done. you think he’s a good person? is that it?”

“no. but he’s a god. why are you being like this?”

“being like what?”

he let out air through his nose, glaring at you. you shrunk under his gaze and whispered quickly, “never mind.”

luke huffed. he stood, throwing the covers off of him and storming to the door. “get rest. we’re leaving in the morning.

your head hit the pillow, your heart clenching in your chest as your water eyes stared up at the ceiling. you closed your eyes before you wept.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #luke pjo #percy jackson #luke castellan x reader fluff #luke castellan x reader smut #percy jackson and the olympians #charlie bushnell x reader fluff #pjo #the last olympian #percy and annabeth #sea of monsters #pjo books #annabeth chase

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vimbry · 2 months

Text

*if you've heard a couple songs but don't really know much about them, or haven't listened in a long while, you can play!

update: the highest votes went to gudetama. but was it correct? here are the full titles and albums.

❌ "put your hand inside the puppet head" - they might be giants

the opening verse makes reference to leaving one's job and how "it's sad to say, you will romanticise all the things you've known before. it was not, not, not so great". according to flansburgh, "the lyric revolves around the idea that looking back on anything colors it in sentimentality".

❌ "I'll sink manhattan" - they'll need a crane (ep)/miscellaneous T

this is a flansburgh song, but linnell explained its meaning in a 1989 interview with NME as "a song about a guy who somehow figures out how to sink the island of manhattan just to kill his ex-lover, so it's his apology to the other people he's gonna kill in between. he's just gotta do it!"

❌ "meet james ensor" - john henry

it's about james ensor (belgium's famous painter).

❌ "wicked little critta" - mink car

from the tmbg unlimited collection: "forged in the crucible of an eastern massachusetts junior high, this song expresses the dreams, fears and hopes of a new england young adult" the lyrics seem to suggest said young adult fantasising about being a sports star alongside bobby orr and john havlicek while goofing off outside.

❌ "working undercover for the man" - mink car

from flansburgh: "it's more a meditation on the "mod squad" [a 1968 crime series about cool undercover detectives] than anything else. the idea of the narc just seems... like, those episodes of "dragnet" where they have the young undercover dress in a hippie suit."

✔️ "talent is an asset" - kimono my house

the lyrics illustrate an overly-cautious family shielding their very gifted child from others, to keep him studious and soak in all the glory, and is heavily implied to be little albert einstein through puns on relatives and relativity. it's not by them, tho. it's by the band sparks. it came 2nd, so I think many of you recognised it (or really wanted to see the results!)

❌ "bee of the bird of the moth" - the else

"this is a song about a creature called a hummingbird moth, which imitates another creature, which imitates yet another creature. it's completely fucked up, and can only be explained in song!" so they did.

❌ "2082" - join us

thewrap's review of the album describes this song as, "a science-fiction short story (...) a protagonist who travels into the future, finds himself hobbled but still unhappily alive all the way into the next millennium, and travels back to the title year to smother himself with a pillow in a mercy killing". fun!

❌ "call you mom" - nanobots

referred to by linnell as an "oedipus pan" song, the lyrics follow an unfortunate young man beginning a relationship with a woman, getting dumped due to his behaviour of treating her like a mother figure, then infantilising a possibly younger woman in a different relationship and in turn leaving her, who goes on to experience the same issues. fun! (altho, the final chorus actually still refers to her Mom leaving, not her dad, I got the details wrong there in the poll).

❌ "gudetama's busy days" - dial-a-song / my murdered remains

yes, that's a real song. quote flansburgh: "(...) it is really just about feeling isolated from the world, even if you are in a crowded place and manically trying to keep up with your life. the character of gudetama appealed to me because he is such a mopey sad sack."

❌ "marty beller mask" - album raises new and troubling questions

this is real, too! it's just about how marty beller was actually an alter ego of whitney houston the whole time. he's not, but wouldn't that be interesting. the song name-checks multiple of her own in the lyrics. it was temporarily retired out of respect following houston's death (4 months after its release), returning to live performances ten years later in 2022.

#I know this minor detail might make one obvious but I can't let it slide!#sorry everyone. would you kindly delete any old versions and pass it around again. <3 #tmbg

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brodieland · 3 months

Text

.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Spidey Valdez !! ´ˎ˗

Spidey!Leo Valdez x Fem!Poseidon!Reader Synopsis: Your boyfriend Spiderman, or Leo Valdez, took a break from saving the city to eat with his girlfriend. Word Count: 1110 A/N: I hope it doesn't show to hard that Ive never watched Spiderman.. or read hero's of Olympus.. PART 2

Y/N Jackson was a child of Poseidon, along with her twin brother, Percy Jackson. They were known for embarking on dangerous adventures. These include, but are are not limited too, the underworld, Mount Othrys, and the Labyrinth. Safe the say the two of you making it out alive proves how extraordinary the both of you were.

Though, were you experiences even considered cool when you learned what your boyfriends secret identity was? Well, yes they most definitely were, but still.

Your boyfriend Leo Valdez, on top of being a child of Hephaestus, was in fact Spiderman. Yes, that guy who swings from building to building with webs in his red suit. That, may you add, fits him very nicely. When he's not swinging through the streets of queens solving issues or working hard in the Hephaestus workshops, he was swinging through the streets of Manhattan looking for his lady, Y/N, to spend time with.

You were currently sitting in your bedroom, doing some last minute homework by your window. It was Saturday night, and most kids would've been out hanging out with their friends, but you were grounded after getting suspended at school. Your mom understood the troubles but it wasn't demigod trouble so she didn't let it slide this time. While of course, you could've snuck out through the fire escape your window leads out to, you may or may not have been expecting a secret little visitor.

You were sitting at your desk. You were supposed to be doing your English homework, but of course your dyslexia made it kind of hard, so you just resorted to staring out the window. You were people-watching, and before you knew it, a white string zoomed right past you and connected to your building. You stood up from your chair so quick it almost swung and fell backwards, and before you knew it a boy in a bright red suit landed on your fire escape.

When he landed he quickly pulled off his mask, revealing his dark curly hair and the mischievous grin you love oh so much. You stood there admiring him for a second before Leo starting pointing at your window, causing you to scramble and slowly open it, doing your best not to make much noise, and slid your self outside. As you regained your footing, you quickly grabbed Leo's face and pulled him into a kiss.

"Hey there" Leo grinned. You noticed he had his hand hiding behind his back.

You crossed your arms and raised your eyebrow. "Whatchu got back there?"

"Oh." Then Leo pulled out two medium sized brown bags and handed one to you. "You mean this?" You slowly took the bag and looked inside. You gasped, it was Shake Shack and you were starving.

"You got us Shake Shack."

"Thought we could eat together, never to busy helping out my city to eat with my girl." Leo said as he took a seat on a step, you shortly following him and sitting beside him.

"And you remembered my order, what a dream."

"Of course I did, you think I'm a rookie at this?" you busted out laughing at him. "Anyways, not that I'm not glad you were here, but its Saturday night, why are you home?"

"Oh right I haven't told you yet. I'm grounded." Leo looked at you confused.

"Grounded? Since when do you get grounded?"

"Since I got suspended from school yesterday. 10 days." Leo choked slightly on his burger.

"Yo what? I miss ONE day of school. What'd you even do."

"First of all, you miss a lot of days." Leo just rolled his eyes before you continued. "And it wasn't anything crazy, just the usual."

"Nah nah, please tell me what the 'usual' is."

"I pulled a little prank. It honestly wasn't anything crazy and those girls deserved it." You paused for a second. "And no snakes were harmed in the process."

"SNAKES? I can't believe I missed out on this what." Leo stared wide-eyed at you.

"All I'm saying is, those girls should start, whats the word, showing interest, to another guy" you smiled a Leo, your boyfriend, and crush of the girls who got on the bad end of your snakes.

"Aw you threw a bunch of snakes at girls who thought I was hot." Leo fake pouted and leaned toward you, you jokingly shoved him back to his side.

"First off, I didn't throw it at them, I set them loose in the locker room and locked the door." You threw up one finger and spoke in your matter-of-fact tone. Leo just smiled. "And two, they wanted to try and break us up so I don't think I was being overly dramatic."

"Ughhh why are you so obsessed with meeee" Leo threw his arm around you and pulled you close.

"Interesting, what about the time you used your webs and hung them around some guys ankles because they were staring at my tits as I spoke?"

"I think that was reasonable." You both didn't say anything for a split second.

"Maybe we both have a jealousy thing." You said the same thing at the same time and started laughing together. Leo continued to hold you close before pulling up your face and kissing you. You guys continued to make out for a few more minutes before your window slid open, revealing your amazing brother Percy who was now also standing out on the fire escape.

"This doesn't look very grounded to me." Percy crossed his arms, staring right in your eyes.

"Oh my gods what is it that you need so bad." You stared right in his eyes back, squinting.

"Well, moms home." You quickly turned to Leo who was now looking for his mask. "And she already saw Leo from downstairs, so."

"I love when you let me know she's here, oh wait, you didn't." You sassed back at Percy. "Wait for the next time Annabeth sneaks in."

"Oh so the both of you are sneaking people in?" Your mom, Sally Jackson, said as she was leaning out of the window staring between her two twins.

"NO!" You both said quickly, but Leo was still sitting next to you, staring wide-eyed at Sally.

"I think its your cue to go Leo" your mom said.

"Yeahhh.." Leo stood up and quickly kissed the top of your head before putting his mask back on. "Bye guys." And he left as quick as possible from the awkward situation.

"I'm drilling the both of your windows shut." You and Percy rolled your eyes. "Calm down stop acting like we don't have a front door, now come inside."

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