#i can’t believe i wrote this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

too-deviant · 2 months

Text

freaky friday

OR… that one time you woke up in luke castellan’s body, told from the perspective of percy jackson.

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Fem!Demeter!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Content: the most loser loser!luke has ever loser-ed. this is sooo unserious like pls.

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷

Percy Jackson had only been at camp for a day, but he was completely sure that something was wrong.

It started early Sunday morning — well, when he thought back on it, he guessed it might have started late Saturday night, when he woke up to a few of the older campers (Luke included) sneaking off out of the cabin and not coming back until the sun was peeking through the horizon.

But he didn’t really think about it until Sunday morning — when the thing that startled him out of sleep was a loud shout of “Holy Fuck!” echoing from the bathroom. He sat up, startled, and eyed the door along with everyone else. Then there was a yelp.

“Oh my gods. No — this is, this isn’t real. Am I still — oh don’t touch that. That’s not yours. Jesus, Luke — No. Stop looking. Oh my gods.”

A few campers shared some wary glances, asking the silent question of who’s going to investigate? Eventually, Chris (Percy thought, one of Luke’s friends from yesterday), stood up with a sigh and a raised brow, stepping over sleeping bags until he stood outside of the door. He looked at them all, the curious eyes of literally every kid there, and knocked slightly. There was another yelp.

“Uh…” Chris blew out a puff of air, “Are you okay in there?”

A few seconds of tense silence, then the door cracked open and Luke Castellan stuck his head out. He looked at Chris, at all the kids staring at him, and smiled stiffly, “I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”

He shut the door once more, the force blowing Chris’ hair back for a brief moment. The boy shrugged and nodded at everyone else to start getting ready because it was almost time for breakfast. He headed over to Percy, asked how his first night was, and left him to gather his bearings before they had to leave.

The kids attempted to forget about Luke’s debacle in the bathroom, but when they started to get impatient about his hogging it, all disregard of his personal business went flying out of the window. One kid mustered the balls to knock, and then another shouted through the wood for him to hurry up.

Just as one of the Stoll brothers was about to pick the lock himself and check out the situation, the door flew open, and Luke frowned at them from the doorway, “I’m done, my gods.”

They looked at him — he was leaning against the now open door, hip bucked out and not a care in the world that he was in nothing but his underwear. He glanced at them, then at the kid who Percy thought was called Conor, and sneered in his face until the kid flinched back. When he did, Luke pushed the bathroom door until it hit the wall and gestured dramatically inside, “In you go.”

Percy didn’t think he was the only one who was shocked by Luke’s sudden show of attitude. Sure, he’d only known the guy for a day, but he’d been super nice the whole time. Even when Percy was ready to give up on finding his skill, Luke was supportive and kind. Now, he just looked irritated at everyone in the room. Maybe he wasn’t a morning person.

Yeah, that was probably it.

Percy decided to let him wake up a bit instead of irritating him with questions about how the morning routine at camp usually went. Instead, he followed the lead of the kids around him and got himself ready before lining up along the wall. His face bloomed red when someone had to tell him to go to the back because he was new, but other than that he was doing somewhat alright.

Chris and Luke were arguing quietly in the corner, being careful to ensure nobody else could hear their murmurs. At one point, Luke stepped up so he was nose to nose with Chris and the boy put his hands on his chest to push him back — only for Luke to sharpen his eyes down at them with such a scandalised look that even Percy was slightly confused from where he stood and watched. Luke folded his arms over his chest indignantly and Chris sent him a dumb look before muttering something that made Luke straighten and drop his arms once more.

When the boys ceased their conversation and walked over, the kids pretended as if they hadn’t been watching their entire time

“Okayyy.” Luke spoke, huffing out a breath. He shot his hands out and waved them, “Let’s go.” Nobody moved, and he furrowed his brows, “Uh, onwards and upwards? Hop to? En guarde?” Silence greeted him and he rolled his eyes, clapping loudly, “Can yall just fuckin’ move?”

The kids at the front flinched slightly, deciding it best to just leave rather than wait for him to say his usual morning pick-me-up. Clearly he was having a bad day and they chose to leave him to his own devices. Percy followed at the back, and couldn’t help but listen as Chris muttered to him once more from behind him.

“Can you at least try to act like a normal person, please?”

“I am acting normal.”

“Luke Normal.” He paused, waiting. Percy guessed Luke must’ve agreed silently because the next thing he said was, “Thank you. Now get to the front of the line like the cabin counsellor you are.”

Luke huffed, pushing past Percy to get to the front of the line. Chris followed, whispering something about Luke having a bad day and to just ignore him before jogging to catch up. The blonde boy had never felt so awkward — the only friend he’d made and the guy was skulking around like he hated the world only twelve hours after they’d met.

He tried to brush it off by focusing on his breakfast — blue pancakes, blue cherry coke. Okay, not the healthiest option but he was having a bad weekend, let him live.

Chiron came to find him a bit after that, asking Percy how he was settling in and if he was ready for the Capture the Flag game they were playing later.

After that, Percy tried to avoid the prying eyes of Annabeth by spending his free hour in the Hermes cabin where she couldn’t get to him — only to walk in on something a lot more awkward.

Luke was lying on the floor, groaning in pain. The smiley Demeter girl he had introduced Percy to the day before was on top of him, also groaning in pain.

“Uh, are you guys okay?”

They flinched, scrambling off each other and pulling themselves to their feet. Luke brushed himself off and looked at Percy wide eyed, “It’s not what it looks like!”

“Seriously.” The girl said when Percy raised his brow. She shook her head slowly, “We would never —“

“Yeah.” Luke scoffed, “Like never ever.”

The girl — Percy was still trying to remember her name — turned her head and looked at him blankly, “Okay. That wasn’t needed.”

“I’m just clarifying.”

“You didn’t need to sound so disgusted about it, though.”

“Oh my god.” Luke scoffed a chuckle, shaking his head, “You’re such a guy.”

Percy screwed up his face, and Luke suddenly backtracked, “Uh, I mean — such a lie…er.” Even he looked confused by what he’d said. He straightened up and scoffed, waving his hands, “She wants me so bad. Right? Bro?” He held out a fist, but Percy just looked at it.

The girl, who had swiftly knocked his hand back to his side and stepped slightly in front of him, smiled kindly like she had yesterday when she’d asked how Percy was feeling about the sudden change in his life. “Sorry for scaring you, Perce. We’re just talking about something. Did you have a question?”

“Yeah, actually.” He looked at her, “Are you in pyjamas?”

She looked down at herself like she was just remembering her white tank top and fleece pyjama pants with bats printed on them, and Luke laughed into his fist. Upon hearing his chuckles, she swivelled back to glare at him, “Hey, don’t laugh at me! Would you rather me undress you?”

“What?” Percy asked. He was ignored.

Luke took a step back and held up one finger, “Uh, no. I don’t need you looking at my tits, perv.”

“What?” Percy tried again.

The girl scoffed, looking away from him and muttering under her breath, “Kinda hard not to when they get hot in the night and climb out of your shirt.”

Luke gasped and put his hands to his chest, “Oh my gods.”

“I tried not to look but they were right there — !”

"Well — " Luke stammered for a rebuttal, eventually pointing in accusation at the girl beside him, "You had morning wood!

"What — ?!"

“Hey, guys!” Percy finally interrupted, and they looked at him in surprise like they’d forgotten he’d been standing there the whole time. “What the hell is going on?”

The two shared a look, but it was you who stepped forward and looked at him kindly, “Nothing you should worry about. You’ve had a tough weekend already, just pretend you never saw us.”

Percy was tempted to refuse and force them to spill the beans, but they were two older campers who could very well send him to detention or whatever it was they did here for punishment — he wasn’t keen on finding out. So he left with a nod and closed the door behind him.

Your voice drifted through the window, “—can’t believe you wear batman pyjamas.”

“At least I wear pyjamas.” Luke responded, “You left very little to my imagination this morning.”

He walked off before he could hear anymore.

He didn’t see either of you again until just before lunch. He was walking through camp with Grover, half-listening to his friend yap about a blueberry bush he thought was cute, when they passed you and your sisters giggling about something near the forges.

“Gods, he’s cute, though.” One of them was saying, eyeing up a boy with soot all over his face. Percy couldn’t see much of him to determine him as cute, but your sisters seemed to agree with a loud dreamy sigh.

“He is, don’t get me wrong.” Another girl added, “But consider this: Lee Fletcher.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“He’s got potential. He’s got potential.”

Percy found himself slowing down, the teenage boy in him wondering if someone would mention his name. Of course they wouldn’t — he’s twelve, and they’re all around yours and Luke’s age, but a boy could dream.

One of the girls clicked her tongue, looking at you, “Who was it you said was sorta dreamy the other day?”

Percy watched you freeze, suddenly looking very awkward. You took a deep breath in and pretended to think about what you were going to say, but one of your sisters chimed in for you.

“It was Astor. The Ares kid with the curly hair.”

“Oh yeah!”

“What?” You exclaimed, scrunching up your face. When your sisters looked at you all confused, you backtracked, “Uh, I mean yeah he’s…cute.” You forced the word out with difficulty, “But, I dunno. There's cuter guys out there.”

“Oh?” Your sister said, interested, “Who are you thinking?”

Now you were on the spot. You swallowed, making these exaggerated facial expressions that Percy assumed were you trying to convince the girls that you had just come up with this idea, when you’d actually probably been wanting to say it the whole time you’d been talking and just needed an excuse, “Oh, I don’t know…” You shrugged, “Luke Castellan’s sorta…y’know?”

The girls looked between each other, and you watched with slight anticipation. Then one of them, the one who had mentioned Lee Fletcher earlier, said, “I swear you said he was too full of himself.”

“What —?”

“Yeah, she did.” The other chimed in, “You said he would be cuter if he didn’t — what was it? — flaunt around camp like he had the biggest cock out of all of ‘em.”

The girls laughed, and you attempted a weak chuckle, but it sorta looked like you were in pain. Percy thought it best to walk off after that, looking for Grover who had long since left him to his eavesdropping devices and presumably wandered off into the forest to look for Blue the blueberry bush.

So maybe Percy should’ve pressed harder when he’d cornered you and Luke earlier that morning. He thought he could brush it off, even when he kept seeing Luke lift up the hem of his shirt and poke at his abs in wonder, or when he saw you pushing your hair out of your face once every ten seconds before finally putting it in the messiest ponytail he’d ever seen. It was as if you had lost all sense of self overnight, like you'd never actually seen your own bodies before. It creeped him out, but he held back on asking. Maybe it was a demigod thing he hadn't been taught yet.

The straw that broke the camel's back, however, was after dinner. Usually when the nymphs take the plates away and the campers start to trickle down to the campfire, a few odd groups would stay behind at their tables, gossiping or finishing their desert until they had to get up and go — not only were you and your siblings part of this group of people, but so were Luke and Chris (and, by default because he had nobody else to hang out with, Percy).

So the newcomer had the fortunate opportunity to bear witness to possibly the greatest series of events he’d ever seen (and he once saw a rat the size of a small dog eating a small dog).

It all started when a girl from the Aphrodite table stood up and walked over to where the boys were sitting.

“So, if you do ever want to sneak out to the forests, don’t go through the pavilion.” Chris was explaining, “Mr D has a birds eye view of the whole place from his bedroom window, so you gotta sneak as close to the Big House as you can get. But make sure to duck under the windows just in case Chiron is trotting around in there.”

“And be careful around cabin four.” Luke butted in, “They have vines that spring out of the floor whenever a non-Demeter kid gets too close during the night.”

Chris turned to his brother with a look, “How do you know that?”

“Oh, uh — ”

“Hey, Luke.”

Three heads turned to the edge of the table where she was standing — a pretty girl with short blonde hair, a few strands dyed pink near the front. She was smiling at Luke cheekily and Percy noticed Chris send his brother a smirk.

“Uh, hi…” Luke trailed off, squinting.

“Laura.” She finished with a frown.

“Laura!” He exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “I knew that. I did.”

“Cool.” She said slowly, brushing off the moment and bouncing around the table to sit next to him on the bench. She leaned on her elbows into his side and Percy watched him shuffle back, only for Chris to push him right back forward. “So, uh, I had fun…last night.” She side eyed Percy across the table, but the boy just pursed his lips awkwardly.

“Really?” Luke responded, a little shocked. He nodded, “Well, uh, me too?”

Laura grinned widely at that, back straightening, “I’m so glad we agree.”

Percy wasn’t so sure Luke agreed, he wasn’t even sure the guy remembered whatever saucy interaction she was referring to. But he was pretending to, for her sake. He blinked at her silently, but she just looked as if she was waiting for him to say something — Percy was only young, but he’d seen enough movies to know that she was waiting for him to suggest they do it again sometime.

He did not. Instead he twisted his body away from her and back towards Percy, smiling at him, “Wanna head to the campfire, get some good seats?”

The boy was moments away from responding, but Laura clearly wasn’t taking his silence as an answer. She pulled Luke back to face her by his arm and blinked up at him, “I was just about to suggest we skip the fire tonight. Just us, y’know?”

Chris cleared his throat and stood, ushering for Percy to do the same, “Let’s go, lil bro.”

“Wait — “ Luke stood with them, staring back with a silent plea of help. Chris wasn’t having it, just grinning at him.

“Have fun, Luke.” He snorted, “See you later.”

“No, you can’t — ” He started, but Laura was yanking him back with a high pitched giggle.

“You heard him, Luke.” She smirked, “No one's gonna notice we’re gone, loosen up.” She ran a slow finger down his torso, and Percy watched him visibly tense up. He didn’t understand why she hadn't taken the hint already.

Chris seized Percy by the wrist and began to pull him away, occasionally looking back and giggling like a schoolgirl, with the odd snort. The younger boy didn’t really want to look back, but then when he heard Luke yelp like a girl, well…

He had to. And thank the gods he did.

Luke was sprawled on the table like a scared rabbit and Laura was standing with one hand hanging limply in the air, looking confusedly at his stance. Chris burst into loud laughter when he noticed Luke’s legs were spread and the boy was trying really hard not to look at his own crotch.

They walked over when it was clear someone needed to intervene, and Percy noticed the Demeter girls from before joining them — you were at the front, looking panicked and slightly annoyed.

"What's going on?" You asked, looking between the two of them.

"Nothing." Laura said plainly, "We were just talking."

Luke looked at you, “She — uh, she grabbed your — uh, your — ”

He gestured between his legs with a shaky hand. Percy raised a brow, as did everyone else at the scene. Except for Laura, who began to cackle loudly, bending over at the hips and bracing her hands on her thighs. The rest of the kids stared at the pair with varying expressions, and Laura straightened up, wiping under eyes with a giggle before pointing between you and Luke.

“You guys — oh my gods — ” She laughed again, shaking her head and trying to breathe long enough to get her words out, “Holy Hades, Castellan. I’m — I’m sorry.”

She held her hands up in surrender, looking at you now, “I am. I didn’t know you guys were dating. I guess I took mine and Luke’s conversation the wrong way, but — ” Another wheeze, “And I shouldn’t be laughing, but he just referred to his penis as yours, and I — ”

“Laura, it’s not like — ” You stepped up with a wince, trying to alleviate the growing tension between the group. The Aphrodite girl wasn’t listening.

“I just think that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard since…” She took a moment to think, catching her breath and smiling at herself as she thought about it. Eventually, she gestured to you with a laugh, “Well, since last night when you called Graham Lee an extra-terrestrial ass-kisser.”

Luke licked his lips, taking a deep breath in and pushing himself off the table and to his feet. He went to say something to Laura, face serious, but then he stopped and knocked his head back in a slight movement. He looked around at nothing, as if he was recollecting a memory, and then he gasped and pointed a finger at you, “I did do that.”

“You called Graham Lee an extra-terrestrial ass-kisser?” You tilted your head at Luke, “Why?”

Luke shrugged, “He grabbed my ass.”

Laura scrunched up her face, looking between the pair of them, “Are you guys on drugs?”

"There aren't any drugs at this camp." You blanked. You brother laughed.

"Says the drug dealer."

You raised a brow in shock, like you'd had no idea about your own small business. You looked at Luke intensely -- Percy thought maybe you were trying to keep your drug dealing thing a secret, and Luke had gone and spilled the beans. That would explain why he suddenly looked so sheepish. It wouldn't explain why you then said, "Well I am not on drugs."

"Then what is wrong with you guys?" Someone finally asked the question Percy had been sitting on since he watched you hover your hands over your own boobs before retracting them quickly as if it was against some demigod rule to touch your own body — only for Luke to see from afar and have some very stern words to say about it.

Finally, after ten seconds of intense eye contact, you and Luke took in simultaneous breaths. It was you who spoke first, addressing the whole crowd — which consisted of Percy, Laura, Chris, and the Demeter kids — “We’re in eachother’s bodies.”

The Demeter kids made grossed out faces, but Chris just snorted into his fist and let the conversation go on. Percy had never been more confused in his entire life — and he had once thought his dad was Jesus.

Laura chuckled, “Yeah, we know that. His penis is yours, or whatever freaky shit yall are up to.”

“What?”

“No — ”

You and Luke spoke at once, each taking a single step forward. You paused, looking at each-other until you gestured at Luke with a sigh, letting him speak. He nodded, “We’re serious. We are in each other's bodies.”

“Freaky Friday style.” You jumped in before anyone could make a sex joke. You sent the group a sharp look, and then zeroed your eyes in on Percy, “That’s why we were acting so out of it earlier.”

It was silent for a long stretch — everyone looking between one another. Percy didn’t even know what to say. It did explain their strange behaviour, but —

“How the hell did you end up in each other’s bodies?” A demeter boy asked, holding a finger up like he was in class. The rest of them nodded, wondering the same.

“Well…” Luke sighed (or You sighed, he guessed. He was still confused), “At first we had no idea, but now I think it was Graham Lee.”

Another Demeter girl hummed, “He is a Hecate kid. It’d make sense that he put some freaky spell on you after you insulted him.”

Chris coughed, still red in the face from laughing into his shirt, “Okay, but why Luke?”

You shrugged, “Dunno. I’ve never done anything to the guy.”

Suddenly, Laura let out a long, “Oooohhhh.”

Everyone eyed her. She pursed her lips in embarrassment, although Percy definitely saw amusement in her eyes. She tucked some hair behind her ear and winced, “So, maybe we went to the clash together.”

“The what?” Percy asked, finally speaking up. The rest of the group looked at him as if only just realising he’d been standing there, suddenly looking sheepish.

“Uh, it’s a party.” Chris scratched behind his ear, “Older campers only, but if you don’t tell anyone about ‘em you can come to the next one.”

He shrugged, “Deal.”

“So, wait.” You pointed at Laura, “You went to the clash with Graham? Like with him?”

“Yeah.” She folded her arms indignantly, “But he was literally staring at you the whole time, so I left to flirt with Luke.”

Your cheeks dusted pink, and both Laura and Percy realised she was talking to Luke, not you. She turned to Luke, clearing her throat, “Sorry. He was staring at you the whole time. So I left to flirt with…uh, Luke.”

A collective breath ran through the group, everyone putting the pieces together in their own heads. Percy was still a little unsure, but he had the gist (maybe). Just as he was about to suggest they go find this Graham guy and ask him to undo his spell, one of the Demeter girls Percy had seen talking to you earlier gasped and looked between you and Luke with wide eyes.

“So when we were talking before…” She looked at you, “We were talking to Luke?”

You — or Luke, but as you — stammered, and Percy couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. Luke looked on, confused, and the girl looked at him with a smirk,

“Earlier, we were gossiping about hot guys.” She chuckled, pointing at you, “And Luke suggested his own name, as you!”

“What?” Luke exclaimed at you, partially appalled but also holding in a laugh.

You stammered for an excuse, but then her face contorted and she zeroed Luke with an accusatory stare, “Well, you said I walked around camp acting like I had the biggest cock out of them all!”

Luke scoffed, “You do.”

“I do not!”

“You kind do.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“You sorta do, man.”

You turned to Chris, scandalised, “Bro.”

The boy shrugged, “Sorry man. It’s true.”

Eventually, you managed to convince the kids to finally go to the campfire and leave Luke and yourself to fix your problem with Graham when you got down there. They agreed, although not without making as many jokes as they could on the walk down to the clearing.

“So, how did you guys pee?”

“Have you seen each other all naked and stuff now?”

“Did Luke have morning woo — ?”

“Alright.” You smacked Chris hard on the back for that one. “To your sections, please.”

Percy sat down on the end of a log, and watched as the two of you walked over to Graham and spoke to him in hushed but harsh tones. At one point, Graham was looking between you two with the most genuine look of confusion and Percy assumed he only agreed to reverse the spell because it was making his mind go all wobbly just talking to you.

When he saw Luke again, it was at lights out. Percy was tucking himself into his thin sleeping bag when the boy came over, crouching to his level and dropping something on his lap.

He lifted the bag of coins to his eyeline and then raised a brow at Luke, “What’s this for?”

“Drachmas.” He explained, “Just enough to get you a new shirt at the camp store. Or a thicker pillow, some three ply toilet paper. Whatever you want, really.” He shrugged, “Partly a welcome to camp gift, partly hush money.”

“Right.” Percy lowered the bag and levelled Luke with a curious look, “How was being in another person’s body? Weird?”

“Oh yeah.” He nodded, looking into the distance like he was having some awful flashbacks. Percy remembered seeing you walk out of the bathroom earlier, a look of terror plastered in your eyes.

He cleared his throat, “Well, thanks for the money.”

“No problem, kid.” He patted him on the shoulder, “Get some rest. It’s capture the flag day tomorrow and guess what?"

"What?"

"We're teaming up with Demeter."

#i can’t believe i wrote this #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo #crack fic #loser!luke

1K notes · View notes

ghostlychief · 11 months

Note

missionary position in your position series? I LOVE EM SO FAR !!’🫶🏻🫶🏻

anon, you read my mind bc this was my idea for the next part….hope you enjoy sweetie 🫶🏻

—

pov

ghost x fem!reader

Warnings: smut; MINORS DNI; missionary

summary: ghost has you in missionary, and you think you might be loosing your mind

—

ghost wishes you could see yourself like this.

A flushed, whimpering mess underneath him as he drives himself into you.

The look of pure bliss on your pretty face is something he could look at all day, and because of the position you’re both currently in, he can.

Your hair is sprawled on the pillow underneath your head, and your cheeks are warm. He knows, because every once in a while, he brings one of his large hands up to cup your sweet face, and feels the warmth radiating into his palm.

His thumb brushes along your bottom lip, and then he dips down to capture your lips with his in a saccharine kiss, that leaves you more fevered than before.

He knows you can feel the girth of him every time he moves because of the little whimpers that leave your mouth every time he moves in and out of you. The pressure on his biceps caused by the grip of your fingertips is an indicator as well.

earlier, he had placed a pillow under your hips, which allowed you to feel him better; you had voiced to him that there was a slight pinch every time he moved. Hating any discomfort you felt, he immediately rectified the situation, the pillow solving your problems.

so now, both of you were in complete bliss, the feeling of each other against one another felt heavenly, and you are both close to your demise.

He picks up the pace, and one of this hands comes up under your thigh to push it up against your torso, allowing him more room to move.

he can feel you pulsing around him, so he brings his hand down to rub tight circles on your center, which has you tumbling over the edge.

You let out the sweetest sound he has ever heard and, miraculously, you’re even more fucked out than before.

Your soft eyes meet his, and he knows he’s done for.

he follows shortly after you, falling over the edge, succumbing to the ecstasy.

after you both have come back down from your highs, he once again brings a hand up to cup your face, and leaves a tender, lingering kiss, basking in the afterglow with you.

—

968 notes · View notes

peppermintdaze · 21 days

Text

someone restrain me literally iccant

2 notes · View notes

feotakahari · 7 months

Text

Her vagina dentata doesn’t bite down hard. Just a little nip if you go too fast, fangs brushing against skin if you try to pull out before she’s done. She rarely even draws blood, but she keeps you aware that she could if she wanted to.

#I can’t believe I wrote this

5 notes · View notes

montagu3 · 22 days

Text

What one of my issues are you?

Depression

Everyday I wake up submerged in cement that’s nearly dry. I have to pull and push against the edges, fighting against the suffocating grip until I’m finally sitting on the edge of the bed. I open my eyes to see my drab reality and I’m ready to go back to bed. I don't want to shake off and peel away the pieces of cement that stuck to me. The casting separates me, muffling the voices of others and masking the monster that gnaws at my core. You’re tired. You’ve been holding onto a rope in the overcast waves, in the relentless churn of water. You could pull yourself in, maybe, but you don’t want to. The water is comforting, even when it cascades over you and you think you’re finally going to drown. You didn’t even have to drop the rope. It wasn’t your fault.

Possible Psychosis (undiagnosed)

A voice of a loved one comes from behind me, telling me how I should do it. I know it’s not real, but I let them talk anyway. Time is a slippery eel, wriggling out of my grasp with every attempt to hold onto it. It moves erratically, twisting and contorting until yesterday bleeds into tomorrow and today is lost in the chaos. The maggots eat me in my dreams even though I let them know I’m not dead yet. I know I’m not dead, I have to remind myself every night, but it never stops the maggots. I repeat the mantra like a prayer, a desperate attempt to rid the maggots that are eating the last sane parts of me. But with each repetition, the line between reality and hallucination blurs until I’m no longer sure which is which. I’m greasy and soaked in my own sweat, the stench of decay clinging to me like a second skin. I'll have to shower and change the covers before I can go back to the dirt. You need something to be wrong with you. It has to be some type of outside force, an unseen hand guiding the puppet strings of your existence. If it is you (and you alone), it means that there’s no chance for redemption or normalcy. It means that the maggots will never rest in the grave with you because you’ll never be dead. And so, you cling to the illusion of external influence, a disease, a psychosis, a fragile lifeline in the maelstrom of your madness.

Abuse (from others)

I try to hide in plain sight until the time I can move out, navigating each day with a carefully constructed facade of normalcy. Behind closed doors, I wrestle with the memories that haunt me, the echoes of pain reverberating through every fiber of my being. I attempt to subdue any inch of care that I still hold onto, burying it beneath layers of self-preservation, yet inevitably, something small will peek through, a glimmer of vulnerability that they'll seize upon as an opportunity to inflict more harm. I'm not invincible. Despite my best efforts to convince myself otherwise, the wounds of being drugged, touched, and hurt by those I once trusted have left indelible marks on my psyche. It's as if they've carved out pieces of my soul, leaving me feeling fragmented and lost. I can pretend that it hasn't changed core parts of me, that it hasn't eroded my sense of self, but the truth is undeniable. I am wounded and it hurts. I cling to the fragments of myself that remain, determined to reclaim what was taken from me, one shattered piece at a time. Most of the shards fall through the gaps in my fingers. You can resonate with that. It doesn’t have to be anything big (if it is, I’m sorry, I really am), but it still tore the same hole inside of you. It took something from you, something precious and irreplaceable, and now you're left grappling with the aftermath, trying to piece yourself back together in a world that feels irreparably broken. Keep holding on and keep pulling. I hope you can get it back.

Abuse (from myself)

Hurt becomes the balm for the ever-aching hole inside of me, a void that seems insatiable. With each added hurt, I find solace, as if I'm closing another small hole of Tartarus, where a piece of me was imprisoned by my own transgressions. Why I ended up in Tartarus, I don’t know; perhaps I committed some unforgivable sin, or maybe I simply exist as a vessel for suffering. Regardless, I know I belong, it’s woven into the fabric of my being. As I navigate this labyrinth, I don’t know which will come first: when my body inevitably gives out or the eventual closure of each festering wound inside of me. The prospect of release from Tartarus terrifies me. There's a comfort I can’t find elsewhere in the hurt. Whether the pain is self-inflicted or delivered by the hands of others, it serves as a reminder of my existence, a validation of my worthlessness. You, like me, share a perverse communion with pain. Maybe it’s the guilt and self-loathing that make you seek absolution through hurt. Or, maybe, it’s a subconscious desire for punishment, cemented by your believed unworthiness. The only question is, do you know what you did to deserve your own personal Tartarus?

Obsession

The old Christmas lights that light the depths of my mind come alive in a way that they never do. They throb with the pressure of my heart, my gut thrills and I feel. I’m going to win this war, regardless of the cost. Obsession is passionate, it’s one of the only (usually) non-malicious things that remind me that I’m alive. But with every flicker of light, there's a shadow lurking in the corners, threatening to engulf me in its darkness. Like a moth to a flame, I'm drawn deeper into the allure of my obsession, unable to tear my gaze away even as it consumes me from within. Every thought, every action becomes consumed by the object of my fixation, distorting my perception of reality until it's unrecognizable. The highs of euphoria are matched only by the crushing lows of despair when reality comes crashing down around me. It's tearing me apart and slowly eroding my sense of identity. I yearn for someone to share this intensity of my passion, to see me as I see them. But the bitter sting of unrequited longing only serves to deepen my sense of inadequacy and isolation. Each rejection feels like a dagger to the heart, reinforcing the fact that I am inherently undesirable and unworthy of love. God, you want to be wanted, no matter how much you believe you’re undesirable. That same hunger you pour into your passion projects, you long for someone to reciprocate that fervor towards you. It's a yearning that, if fulfilled, could make you feel complete. That you would die happy with. But deep down, I believe you don't seek death; rather, you crave the raw intensity of emotions that obsession ignites. I hope in your passion you don't succumb to despair but instead learn to navigate the intricate maze of desire, emerging on the other side with your humanity intact. May you embrace that insatiable hunger, finding purpose amidst the chaos that surrounds you.

Burnout

Although the light is already out, the whirring of the electricity never stops ringing. The light I produced stopped hitting the earth lightyears ago and the only thing still present is the decaying of my final form, a reminder of what once was and can never be reclaimed. As I languish in this state of deterioration, the relentless drone of the machinery persists, a haunting soundtrack to my descent into oblivion, into the void of nothingness. There was a time when greatness seemed within reach, you had potential, but now it feels like a distant memory, a ghost of your former self haunting the corridors of your mind. The picture you painted was that of the classics, but now you’re one of the starving artists. Every day, you pass by the remnants of my aspirations, your painting, you’re reminded of what could have been—a masterpiece left incomplete, a dream left unfulfilled. With each passing moment, the chasm between your former self and your current reality widens, stretching further into the depths of uncertainty. Is it better to continue grasping at the fading embers of your former glory, or to come to terms with the fact that you may never reclaim that lost brilliance?

#ramblings #I can’t believe I wrote this #from my uquiz

0 notes

junglejim4322 · 11 days

Text

“Touch me while your bros play grand theft auto” the tortured poet screams

#i went and listened to the actual song I can’t believe someone wrote that

9K notes · View notes

lilislegacy · 2 months

Text

this is my roman empire. and after all these years, i finally have to say something.

GRUNT-WHIMPER??? GRUNT-WHIMPER!!!!???

ANNABETH GIRL ARE YOU OKAY??

forget her just standing there gasping for air. forget her very audible sigh. forget the fact that annabeth initiates 80% of their kisses and literally has to restrain herself from kissing him in front of all of New Rome in MoA. i could go on and on about how many times percy calls her beautiful and attractive (let’s not forget how his heart races and his skin tingles at her touch) and all his boyfriend-ly thoughts about her, but lets focus on annabeth for a sec. BECAUSE ANNABETH CHASE IS GRUNT-WHIMPERING??

our girl was feeling ALL the things in this scene. she’s so weak in the knees for him that she can’t even hide it in front of piper. also percy must be a fantastic kisser? BECAUSE GRUNT-WHIMPER??

do not EVER tell me percy and annabeth don’t have romantic feelings for each other. do not EVER tell me it’s purely platonic. if you’re someone who thinks “nah i can’t see them getting married and having kids cause i don’t think they feel that way about each other” you clearly did not read about the grunt-whimper (well, you can hc whatever you want. i respect all opinions. but i do think you need to re-consider and account for the grunt-whimper)

BECAUSE GRUNT-WHIMPER?? ONE GOOD KISS FROM PERCY IS MAKING ANNABETH CHASE GRUNT-WHIMPER?? IS THAT RICK’S “CHILD-APPROPRIATE” WAY OF SAYING SHE MOANED?? HE SHOULD HAVE JUST SAID SHE MOANED. GRUNT-WHIMPER IS SO MUCH WORSE. THAT GOES SO FAR BEYOND A MOAN. A MOAN IS TAME COMPARED TO A GRUNT-WHIMPER.

GUYS I-

#ricky i see you #ricky i can’t believe you wrote about annabeth grunt-whimpering #GRUNT-WHIMPER??#percabeth #LOL #i can’t stop laughing #if annabeth chase read that she would be like WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY I DID??#blood of olympus #percy jackson #annabeth chase #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #uncle rick

9K notes · View notes

toffeecoco1 · 1 month

Text

@perpetualgrey's comment on this post

Ok my first instinct was to laugh, but then I realised you might be onto something???

Shen Yuan is LITERALLY an impostor, who’s more far more kind and beloved by Binghe than the original. The Guanyin pendant is a counterfeit, but it carries the love of Binghe’s mother and is far more precious than any real jade could ever be.

The heartbreak Binghe’s mother felt after realising that the Guanyin pendant was fake and she’d been tricked was part of what lead to the gradual decline of her health.¹ In wanting to do something kind for Binghe, she felt that she’d failed, and this led to her demise. What is Shen Qingqiu’s entire story, but trying to be kind to Binghe, feeling inadequate at this, and dying? (More than once!!)

Guanyin is a Bodhisattva associated with mercy, kindness, compassion and unconditional love. She is a patron of mothers, and is called upon in times of fear, uncertainty, and despair. The Bodhisattva she originated from is seen as a saviour, through whose grace even those with the most negative karma can achieve salvation. Even when she is not worshipped as a goddess, she is revered as the principle of love, compassion and mercy.² From wikipedia, “The act, thought and feeling of compassion and love is viewed as Guanyin. A merciful, compassionate, loving individual is said to be Guanyin.”²

The original Luo Binghe appears never to have lost his pendant. Shen Qingqiu tells us: “It was the only bit of warmth in Luo Binghe’s dark world, always by his side, and even in the future when he was at his darkest, it could summon up his last dregs of humanity.”¹ He also states that “it was Luo Binghe’s biggest berserk button.”¹

Our Luo Binghe does not cling to the pendant when he’s at his darkest: he clings to the love he has for his shizun and to memories of his kindness, and later, to the lifeless body of Shen Qingqiu himself. His biggest berserk button isn’t when people insult the pendant or his mother, or try to take it away; it’s Shen Qingqiu: when people insult him or try to take him away.

From the start, Shen Qingqiu expresses truly unconditional love for Binghe. He spends three years showing endless compassion and kindness, actions which feel insignificant to him but are more than enough to completely change Binghe’s life. He holds no blame or resentment for the things he fears Binghe will do to him; though he doesn’t want to be tortured, he forgives Binghe for it nonetheless, before it has even happened. He sacrifices himself to save Binghe as his mind is eaten away at by Xin Mo, when he believes that Binghe just slaughtered a hundred Huan Hua Disciples, when Binghe’s reckless use of the sword is putting countless more lives at risk.³

Shen Qingqiu is a counterfeit that is more precious than the original could ever be. For Binghe, he personifies kindness, compassion and unconditional love. His regrets over his treatment of Binghe lead to his temporary demise. Binghe clings to him in his darkest moments, and he is that which Binghe protects most fiercely.

I always found the pendant’s role in the story to be almost lacking: it’s treated as such an important item to Binghe, yet in the end its return is almost anticlimactic. But perhaps this is because the role the pendant played in Bing-ge’s story has been overtaken by Shen Qingqiu. When he returns the pendant, Binghe is relieved and appreciative: but his joy seems to stem more from the fact that Shen Qingqiu held onto it and cherished him than from the pendant itself. The pendant doesn’t matter all that much to him anymore, at least not compared to how important it seems to have been in PIDW. Binghe doesn't need an object to symbolize love and kindness; he has a person to love, who loves him back.

In conclusion: Shizun was in fact the fake jade Guanyin pendant all along!

sources cited below :)

1. Seven Seas Volume 1, Chapter 1: Scum. Pages 40-41.

2. “Guanyin,” Wikipedia. There’s a lot more to her than what I mentioned here, she’s quite interesting.

3. Seven Seas Volume 2, Chapter 8: Death. Pages 154-156.

#svsss #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #bingqiu #svsss meta #meta #scum villain’s self saving system #i can’t believe i wrote a 650 word essay with citations instead of doing my coursework

855 notes · View notes

zorosdimples · 6 months

Text

sort of a continuation of this post

“you have an rbf, my love.”

“an rbf,” your boyfriend echoes. the acronym sounds clunky rolling off of nanami kento’s tongue, and his frown lets you know that he’s never heard the phrase before.

“it stands for ‘resting bitch face.’ that’s what you have,” you explain carefully, stroking the back of his hand with a soft thumb.

kento’s brow furrows even deeper, voice slightly indignant as he asks all too seriously, “do i look like a bitch to you?”

you can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips. kento is the smartest man you’ve ever met, but he is woefully ignorant when it comes to slang. before you started dating, you had to explain to him what “lmao” meant; that was the first time he had ever heard of urban dictionary.

your boyfriend’s stare is intense as you attempt to describe his facial expression. “no—that’s not what the term means. basically, it means that your resting face looks a little…pissed, for lack of a better word.”

kento is quiet for a beat before clarifying, “so, i look stern most of the time?”

“yes, that’s it!” you agree with a snap. “stern.”

“i suppose that’s why people often say i look intimidating,” kento muses. he threads his fingers through yours.

“i think that’s a fair assumption.”

“well,” kento says, raising your hand up to his lips. “i will try to be more mindful of my demeanor.” he places a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

you shake your head. “don’t bother.”

“and why is that?”

the smile that graces your lips makes him fall in love with you all over again. “i love you the way you are—grumpy face and all.”

#ummmmmm here u go #nothing special just a little dialogue #gross soggy sappy ew can’t believe i wrote that #kento <3 #༄ kae writes

1K notes · View notes

aprityormarj · 5 days

Text

Leona clubwear ssr fic

Synopsis: Leona, after a very tiring day from spell drive decides to be a clingy cat to his s/o

Tw: clinginess, leona is taller, a bit of possessiveness I guess?, no beta, bad grammar 👍

Author’s notes: yes I wrote an entire fic of leona that’s 1,232 words long while being a jack simp just to mess with @aivy-saur

Leona just wanted to take a nap today. He had to deal with extremely rowdy and uncooperative students in his club today, he was really annoyed with how some of the guys who were so full of themselves weren’t listening to him at all?! Leona made them do double the work out after a horrible practice game because of them. All of those things almost ruined his day, the saving grace for leona was the fact that his number 1 fan was watching.

How could his mood be soured when you cheer him on while watching, wiping his sweat off when he sits beside you to watch his club mates, and offering to get water for everyone while looking all cute like that. He desperately wanted to see his little herbivore again since club hours were over, he even forgot to change clothes.

He spots you not too far away, you were talking to Jack and Duece as they were both working out nearby to train their endurance. You notice jack’s fur suddenly standing up as he looks at something behind you agitated and before you could even turn around two hands touch your shoulders quickly pulling you into their chest, jack calms down and Deuce gets shocked at how fast leona suddenly appeared. You can feel his tail playing in between your thighs to greet you, his strong yet gentle grip on your shoulders, and how you could feel his chest with the back of your head, damp from practice. He combs your hair away in order to leave a kiss on the top of your ear, you can hear tiny groans escaping his throat while all of this happens. “Herbivore… are you busy…?” He sounds so uncharacteristically soft and gentle, you could even say innocent.

Jack and Deuce look at each other awkwardly, as if 2 little kids seeing something they shouldn’t have “um… we’ll just go now… we wouldn’t want to disturb leona…” said Jack, Deuce nodding as they both walk away flustered from what they just saw. You wave to them goodbye and before they’re even gone leona starts to wrap his arms around your armpits to draw you into a closer hug, kissing your jawline this time whilst he rubs his head on your neck. Unfortunately for leona you turn around to tell him how you still have some errands to do, he slouches down to your level and pouts, his tail swaying erratically out of annoyance, you promise him that they won’t take long to finish as you cup his face, which he uncharacteristically again leans into your touch like a clingy house cat. You can see the mess that is his damp hair he he rubs it against you, his cheeks feel surprisingly really soft as they glisten from his sweat, and his his pupils are massive orbs, almost consuming the emerald greens in his eyes, and yet none of this was able to prepare you for what’s gonna happen for the rest of the evening.

You 1st start to walk around campus to return some things with leona’s hand in yours, but he isn’t satisfied enough so it ends up with his hands on your shoulder, leaning in really close whenever you stop walking. Due to how close Leona was he would accidentally make you trip sometimes, but he catches you every time you fall though though, and then he would lift you up a bit to hug you and then place you down shortly after. If you ever tell him off about how he’s way too close, he would just pout and still continue to be super clingy regardless of what you say. If you ever need to take a restroom break, or do any activity that needs you to have your personal space he will begrudgingly let you go, although the moment you’re out of the stall he is back on your shoulders even while you wash your hands he is sticking to you like glue.

Finally when you were done with your errands and was about to go back to your dorm until leona stopped you “stay at my dorm room again… please..?” Well he’s been very adamant on sticking by your side today and also very affectionate, so might as well just say yes to the poor prince’s request. His tail stands up in approval of your decision and happily walks (pushes) you towards his dorm room. When you enter his dorm, the 1st thing he does is hug you, leaning his entire body weight on top of you causing you to fall down on your bed with his on top of you, chuffing and kneading against the bed, you comment on how uncomfortable his hugs were since he was still sweaty. In the current state leona is in right now he is way too lazy to take a bath or get a shirt to change himself, so the smart kitty decides to just take of his shirt, it’s a good enough compromise for him leaving you flustered in the process, he doesn’t really mind since he does find you cute when you’re all flustered like that. The orbs in his eyes grow even more, consuming the emerald colors in his eyes, completely turning round and black. He carries you around his bed in order to adjust both of you better, leaving kisses on your skin while doing so. He places you down gently and hugs you wrapping you with his arms and legs. He gently leaving licks and bites on the skin of your face while chuffing up a storm. He mumbles about how cute his little herbivore is and how much you make him happy, he can’t help but rub his face against your body while making all of the noises that a lion can make. He may not say it but he’s definitely head over heels for you and you alone and this is his way of saying it. You want to sit up in place to get a better view on leona, but instead he tightens the hug you’re in and gets up closely to your ear “stay… mine… my herbivore is mine… and mine alone…” he then grazes his teeth against your ear and chuffs again, chuffs that are only reserved for your ears. He wipes your arms down with his hands, he loves the feeling of your goosebumps, honestly he loves any reaction out of his little herbivore.

Welp I guess you’re trapped in his arms now and I don’t think you can overpower this cat man sadly 🧍‍♀️

When you wake up the next day, he’s still clinging onto you like glue so you can’t really rise up as well until he wakes up. When he wakes up though he noticeably gets a bit embarrassed (though he’s trying to hide it) “Herbivore… I’m sorry about how… clingy… I was yesterday…” he notices your smile and your red tinted cheeks which causes him to smirk and come closer to your ear again in a sensual manner, his tail wiping against your arms “unless you didn’t mind any of it…? I’d be happy to do it again all for my future princess~”

#twisted wonderland #twst #leona kingscholar #twst wonderland #leona twst #leona kingscholar x mc #leona kingsholar x reader #fluff #i can’t believe I wrote this fic just to mess with aivy wtf #enfp moments tbh #when will I ever get the motivation to do things for myself rather than mess with people #this took too much effort wtf #i hope leona stans will like this I guess WHWHHAHJWHAHA #aprityormarj

151 notes · View notes

queer-reader-07 · 6 months

Text

crowley and aziraphale being sexy is not mutually exclusive from them being asexual. y’all do realize that, right?

i’ve seen people say “i just want them to be ace icons, they’re an old gay couple they’re not meant to be sexy!!” and while that’s well intentioned and i can see where you’re coming from, i have to disagree.

don’t get me wrong, i don’t necessarily want a sex scene in canon. i did and still do read both of them as ace. the wanting them to be ace is not the issue.

i take issue with the reasoning some people are providing. let me put this bluntly: old people can and do have sex. old straight couples have sex, old queer couples have sex. being old is not synonymous with someone not being sexually active. and it says a lot about how you all view aging and old people when you act like old people can’t get it on.

secondly, aziraphale and crowley can be sexy and also never have sex. ANYBODY can be sexy and never actually have sex. because sexy is vibe, it’s a state of mind, it’s about your physicality and the way you carry yourself. you can think someone is sexy and never want to fuck them, you can think you yourself are sexy and not go any further than that.

so yeah, crowley can look hot and sexy in his turtlenecks and waistcoats. and aziraphale can look sexy in his waistcoats and button downs. you can look at david tennant’s jawline and be enamored and you can look at michael sheen’s nose and think it’s beautiful. and they never have to actually have sex with each other for any of that to be true. sexiness does not necessitate sex.

not to mention, every time i see the “they’re an old gay couple they don’t need to be sexy!!” argument it feels very much like sanitizing queer relationships and love for the sake of cishet comfortability. too often queer people are not allowed to be sexual, or for fucks sake, not just sexual but physical with their significant others. because physical manifestations and displays of queer love make the cishet world uncomfortable. and not allowing that kind of physical love to exist in media only serves to further perpetuate the issue.

queer love and queer people don’t have to be palatable to a cishet audience. queer love should get to exist authentically and queer people should get to exist and present in however way they see fit.

and in the context of good omens i think that means letting aziraphale and crowley be sexy even if they never have sex. that means letting them be physical in their love. because queer people deserve that, especially old queer people

#i don’t even know if this makes sense but here ya go #can’t believe i (an asexual) unironically wrote ‘sexy is a state of mind’ in an otherwise serious tumblr post #anyways let aziraphale and crowley be sexy even if they never have sex #asexual aziraphale #asexual crowley #asexual aziracrow #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens 2 #good omens meta

344 notes · View notes

chloeinletters · 6 months

Text

Less is more!

#my writing #can’t believe I didn’t post this when I wrote it!!!?

343 notes · View notes

hmslusitania · 11 months

Text

“Oi. Listen up.”

Jamie keeps working the knots on his boots but he echoes in on the “yes coach” that the rest of the lads throw Roy’s direction.

“Me and Keeley are back together,” Roy says. “So I don’t want to hear about any of your friends or sisters or who the fuck ever who are single and just perfect for me, got it?”

Jamie gets halfway through wondering who on the team is ballsy enough to try and offer their sisters and single friends to Roy, but across the room, Dani is already throwing Roy a respectful salute.

“Yes, Coach,” he says.

“Well, Coach Kent, I think I speak for everybody in here when I say that we’re mighty glad to hear that,” Ted says.

“Feels like everything’s right in the universe again,” Beard agrees.

“Yeah,” Jamie mutters. “That’s all just fucking perfect.”

The only person close enough to hear him is Sam, who shoots Jamie a questioning look, both eyebrows raised.

Jamie ignores him, finally finishes with the knots in his laces, and doesn’t hurl his boots at Will, but that might only be because Will catches them gracefully and they don’t hit him.

It’s not like… Jamie isn’t, like, 100% over Keeley. He knows that. He doesn’t think he ever will be, but he doesn’t think anyone ever actually gets over their first love. Especially not when they know, without question, that they’re the one who absolutely fucked it up.

And he knows that. He had his chance with Keeley, and he fucked it, and it’s a matter of the better man winning and Roy is the better man and he won, and so Jamie does not understand why he’s suddenly feeling like someone’s kicked him in the bollocks of his heart or whatever.

It’s good. Keeley and Roy are good together and they’re two of Jamie’s favourite people and he wants them to be happy, and they’ve seemed happier when they were together and…

And so what that for a while it seemed like maybe Roy had fucked it with Keeley himself, and he and Jamie were in a club together about it. So what that they were getting close enough for Phoebe to assume Jamie was Roy’s best friend and Roy didn’t fucking tell him to his face about Keeley and put him back in the same level as the rest of the team? So fucking what, yeah? It doesn’t matter.

It matters when Roy turns up at Jamie’s at four in the morning like everything’s normal.

“The fuck is your problem?” Roy asks when Jamie just starts running rather than waiting for Roy to catch up.

“I don’t have a problem, Coach,” Jamie says, and he really shouldn’t, but it feels like a lie.

“Like fuck you don’t,” Roy says.

“You really want to pry into everything wrong with me, Coach Lasso?” Jamie shoots back.

Roy grumbles but stops prying lest Jamie — rightly — accuse him of more Ted-ness.

Jamie trains, and he runs until he can’t feel his legs anymore, and only then, when it’s past dawn, does Roy bother him about it again.

“Are you going to be weird about me and Keeley?” Roy asks.

“No,” Jamie says but that feels like a lie too. “Just thought maybe you’d tell me in person about it because we’re best friends now and all.”

Roy frowns. Jamie braces for whatever sort of rebuke Roy’s going to throw at him — that they’re not best friends, that Roy’s love life isn’t any of Jamie’s business, that Keeley’s love life definitely isn’t any of Jamie’s business anymore.

“I don’t…” Roy starts, slow enough that Jamie pauses mid stretch to stare at him. “I don’t know why I didn’t. But you’re right. And I’m sorry.”

Jamie feels his mouth fall open. It’s just blank shock.

“Don’t be a twat,” Roy scolds when he sees Jamie’s face.

“I’m not, I’m just — wow, Roy Kent apologised to me,” Jamie says. “I’m flattered.”

Roy rolls his eyes, but fond, and Jamie abruptly remembers the last time he’d claimed to be flattered. Colin, recently out to the team, and the team trying to do a headcount and figure out who else in the locker room must be queer.

Jamie’s still not sure how the rest of the lads seemed to entirely miss Trent Crimm’s rainbow mug and Dolly Parton shirt, but they had and they’d looked mostly at him.

“I guess I thought you’d be… jealous,” Roy says, snapping him back to the Richmond Green.

“Nah,” Jamie says.

“Because I know you’re still a little in love with her,” Roy points out.

“She’s Keeley fucking Jones, you don’t just get over her,” Jamie replies and falls forward to do some press ups rather than have to look Roy in the eye anymore. “But mostly I want her to be happy.”

“Yeah,” Roy says, gruff but like he gets it.

“Believe it or not, I want you to be happy to,” Jamie adds, speaking to the grass and tree roots between his hands. “Because you’re Roy fucking Kent.”

Roy doesn’t respond to that, and Jamie keeps staring at the ground. For a moment, he thinks he’s overstepped, and then Roy kicks his heels up to rest on Jamie’s back.

Jamie smiles and appreciates the burn of the extra weight in his triceps and shoulders.

“I appreciate it,” Roy says finally, and something in Jamie’s chest fractures.

It’s not like Jamie doesn’t know what bisexuality is. He’s spent enough time around Keeley that it’s come up frequently. But there’s been some sort of block that sounds a bit like his fuck of a dad between him knowing that, and knowing it about himself.

Because he finally gets it, dripping sweat into the dirt in the early summer morning. He is jealous of Roy and Keeley getting back together.

Trouble is, he has absolutely no idea if he’s jealous of Roy for getting back with Keeley, or if he’s jealous of Keeley, for getting back together with Roy.

#Ted lasso #rkjt #the ghost ship scribbles #no one look at me I can’t believe ive done this lol #i have literally never written a Ted lasso episode coda #but I guess??? here we are????#i wrote this on my phone into my drafts any mistakes are. expected #jamie tartt #Roy kent

513 notes · View notes

kkencess · 5 months

Text

downtown baby, chapter two.

ii. coach satoru is like… such a weirdo. 𖤐

summary; you’re a pretty nerd in college. unfortunately, with the word nerd attached to your name, there’s usually one thing that comes to mind first. bullies. well, maybe you are being picked on a bit, just not by your classmates… but wait, your hot professors?

warning(s); pervert! gojo, sexual content, (masturbation.) there’s also like a pov change in the middle of the chapter, and a brief hinting at stalking.

˚ ༘ ♡ ·˚ ༘ your volleyball coach is a man, unfortunately for you. the girls on the team didn't seem to have a problem with it, only because he was an attractive male. you had to give it to him, he is pretty cute, and rather charming. except, he seemed to have it out for you. just like a certain professor you despised.

his name is gojo, satoru. he prefers to be called by his first name, although you thought it was pretty stupid, since he works under the college’s board. he’s an albino-haired male, with striking blue eyes. he’s tall, handsome, and you even think he's a bit flirtatious. the way he talks to the girls on the team is questionable, but you try not to let it bother you. it’s not like he was hurting anyone, nor could you do anything about it.

hey, if you hadn’t disliked him so much, you’d probably be in the same position as those love-struck girls. you’re actually quite happy you aren’t as gullible, and blind as they are. he’s like, totally not gonna give them a chance. ever.

you were busy doing a couple of different drills, bumping a ball against the wall, and letting it come back. you were dressed in your volleyball uniform, which was a pair of tight fitting gym shorts, and a long sleeved jersey, with the name of the school written on the front, and back— along with your jersey number. because of your frame, your shirt kinda hangs over your upper-thigh. you were fond of it, since you didn’t like flaunting your body.

your attention is caught, once a large hand presses directly against your lower back. you'd cock your head back, not at all surprised to find it was coach satoru. his shades were atop his head, and did a great job at keeping loose strands of hair from getting in his face.

"uh, is something wrong?" you ask, blinking inwardly at the male. he was so touchy, just like someone else you didn't want to think about. the incident from yesterday was still fresh in your mind, and you absolutely dreaded going to his class today. of course, you had a class for him yesterday, but you didn't go because you didn't want to face him. but then again, you didn't want to give him another reason to drop your grade. you know he’s gonna drop it because of your disappearance, but whatever. it’s too late to do anything about it now.

"you're practicing with your glasses on again." he'd tell you, which was something he often scolded you about. you didn't think it was that big of a deal, but apparently it's a safety concern of some sort.

"i can hardly see without them..." you explain, before stepping forward, and turning around to face him. you could feel the way his hand seemed to almost slip down your body; and just briefly; his fingers grasped your ass. you'd try not to think too much about it, and just figured it was your fault for moving away on such short notice.

"wearing them during practice still isn't allowed. you know this already." he'd scold, bright blue eyes swallowing your frame.

"well, what am i supposed to do?" you'd ask, an obvious pout on your face. this was annoying, since he knew about your vision problems, yet he still wanted you to abide by the school's stupid rules. "if i can't fucking see, it's obviously going to effect my performance."

it was almost like he caught on to your sudden attitude, because in just a single motion; he swiped your glasses from your face. instantly, your vision was blurred, and it was hard to see. it's not like you were blind but you may as well be at this rate.

"why would you do that?!" you ask, confused as ever. you could still see him, it was just hard. you could hear laughing from behind you, which was clearly the other girls on the team. they thought it was hilarious, although it was obvious you were being picked on. could they be any more annoying? they need to give it up, he's never gonna give any of them an actual chance!

"give me back my glasses!" you tell him, wiping at your eyes as if it would help you see any better.

gojo whistled, licking at his lips. it's not like you could see him well, but something was telling you an amused smirk was on his face. "why would i when you look this cute without them?" he questions, humor dripping from his tone. he didn't bother whispering those words either, he didn't care if anyone else on the team heard him. they'd just laugh it off anyway.

"you can get these back once practice is over with. until then, continue practicing your receiving drills." he'd say, before folding your glasses, and tucking them into his pocket. your blood boiled at his carelessness, and it took everything in you to not march over there, and slap him in his stupid handsome face.

"fine, you— fucking hell..." you curse, before walking away. miraculously, you're able to find your ball, and you pick it up again, disappearing elsewhere. you bump into a girl during the process, and you quickly apologize to her, though you continued to walk until you made it to your destination, which was in a corner of the court, far away from the others.

it's not like you noticed from your perspective, but satoru watched you specifically. despite all the girls crowding him, he still kept his attention on you, like always. he'd watch as you bent down to grab the ball, his eyes slowly taking in your perfect ass, and thighs. hell, he felt his cock stirring at the sight.

he fantasizes about you all the time. shit, he couldn't help it. not when you were that fucking perfect. he enjoyed teasing, and picking on you; it was always the perfect opportunity to see that pretty pout on your face. you were so freaking cute, whether you knew it or not. with your brows all narrowed, nose scrunched, and a frown on those glossy, yet glittery lips of yours.

satoru doesn't like to use the word obsessed when thinking about his care for you, yet the word describes him perfectly. he wants you, and badly. the fantasies aren't enough, he needs you. he's spent more than enough nights stroking his cock at the thought of fucking you dumb. he needs the real deal soon, or he's going to lose his mind. he knows he’ll have you one way, or another. everyone finds him attractive, meaning you did as well; even if you were good at hiding it. step one is already complete.

nonetheless, some time had passed, and it was just fifteen minutes before the ending of class. usually, you took your shower around this time. so, as clumsily as ever, you'd walk over to gojo, bumping directly into his chest. he knows it was a mere mistake due to your current vision disability, but he can't help noticing how soft your breast were, when pressed against his body.

"my glasses?" you'd ask, holding out your hand for him to place your glasses in.

he'd shift his fingers through his pocket, before handing you the requested object. you grab your bag, and without saying a word, you leave the gymnasium, and head elsewhere— which was into the girl's locker-room. gojo would simply excuse himself, before exiting the gym, and following quietly after you.

once you walked into the locker-room, he follows after you. he'd watch from a distance, watching as you began your shower water. you don’t even bother checking your surroundings. your naivety was actually somewhat insulting on gojo’s part, but it’s more beneficial, than harmful right now; so he doesn’t care.

so, you soon stripped yourself of your clothes. fucking hell. you pulled your shirt from your body, undoing your bra soon after. it wasn't any surprise you had perfect, perky tits— but to see them in real life, and not his mind was enough to break him. he's imagined sucking, and biting your nipples way too often. he’d rather not go into grave detail about how often it occurs.

gojo kept his eyes on you, fingers slipping into his pants, and through his boxers. it wasn't any surprise his tip leaked with precum at the sight of you, it always happens. whether you're fully clothed, or not. the scent of your strawberry, and vanilla perfume was so refreshing, and prominent— even from this distance. you always smelled amazing, so it’s no surprise.

he doesn't care to check his surroundings, his eyes finding you once more as he grabs ahold of his cock, fingers pumping down the hardened anatomy. he's so fucking sensitive, head cocked back against the wall as he quickens his pace, eyes never leaving you.

he can't help groaning as you slip your panties off, the periwinkle colored undergarment lingering down your thighs as you step out of them. you seem to be checking your own appearance out in the mirror, which only granted him a full three-sixty of that amazing body of yours. you play sports, and you run for thirty minutes every morning. it’s no wonder your fit.

his digits are moving even faster around his cock, as he glances briefly at your pussy. the pussy he’s imagined fucking an unhealthy amount of times, shit it looks so pretty. hell, it's taking everything in him to stay here, instead of walking over, and fucking his seed into you— like how he wants. he knew that much wasn't possible anyway, not without your consent.

it didn't take long for him to reach his orgasm, specks of white fluid coating his hands. he'd grunt, though it couldn't be heard thanks to not only the distance separating you two, but the sounds of water hitting the ground. you stepped into the shower, shutting the daisy printed curtain after yourself.

shit. maybe gojo is going a little crazy.

chapter three link.

it wouldn’t let me add tags, i’m gonna try and add them again tomorrow, lol.

238 notes · View notes