#I don’t think they’d even have wifi

[stellarblitz]

Headcanon that the most modern tech in hotel Z is key cards for rooms because AZ uh… has bad memories w traditional keys

[bradshawsbaby]

scenes from the kitchen sink

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: A little moment inspired by that hair washing scene from Water Rises. That movie may have stressed me out, but at least it gave us plenty of domestic Lew content!

Warnings: Domestic fluff and the tiniest of innuendos (if you squint).

Smiling, the hem of your sundress brushing against your calves in the late afternoon breeze, you step out onto the back porch in your bare feet, crossing your arms over your chest and resting your head against the door jamb to better admire him.

He’s stripped down to his boxers—that’s the nice thing about it being just you and him for miles on end—and standing under the steady stream of the garden hose he’s holding above his head, blue eyes shut tightly as he allows the icy gush to wash away the dirt and grime of the day. You worry for half a second when you realize he isn’t wearing his glasses—Did he leave them somewhere?—but your shoulders instantly relax when you catch sight of them in your periphery, the sun glinting off them as they lay resting on the ledge of the window box overflowing with the weeds he hasn’t yet gotten the chance to pull.

It’s silly of you to fret about it, you think with an amused curve of your lips. Bob never goes anywhere without his glasses.

His eyes still closed and his back to you, you continue to gaze upon him, struck not for the first time by just how beautiful he is. Water droplets cling to the broad expanse of his freckled back, winking at you as they catch the sunlight. His muscles ripple with every movement, and your stomach clenches as you recall how they’d felt stretched taut beneath your fingertips that morning.

He looks so right here, so at home standing half naked on the grass outside the little two and a half room cabin the two of you have turned into your own personal love nest these past few days. You know he’s glad that he volunteered to come here, to straighten things up at his grandpa’s old fishing cabin that hasn’t been touched in over five years.

The place has no WiFi, no air conditioning, and no hot water. The floorboards creak something awful, the windows rattle at night, and you’re fairly certain there’s a family of mice taking up residence in the walls. Still, even you have to admit that the place has its charms. Charms that are easier to see since you know you’ll be leaving at the end of the week, once you and Bob finish setting a few things to rights around here.

“Thank you for coming here with me,” he whispers to you every night before you fall asleep.

But there’s no place else you’d rather be. You belong wherever he is.

Even if that means showering with a rusty old garden hose. 

Which, considering the veritable deathtrap the shower in the cabin is, it does.

Your chest tightens as you watch Bob wash the day’s hard-earned sweat away, your heart filled nearly to bursting with love for him as he bounces on the balls of his feet, gritting his teeth and bearing it as the cold water trickles down his back and snakes a path along his legs, pooling in the dirt at his feet. As soon as he’s able, he’s running to twist the spigot off, winding the hose up in a neat pile before reaching for his glasses.

When he turns his head and catches sight of you standing at the back door, watching him, his face lights up in a way that sets your pulse racing.

No one’s ever looked at you like that except for Bob Floyd.

“C’mere,” you tell him softly, crooking your finger at him to draw him closer.

“I’m all wet,” he murmurs ruefully, stopping short a foot or so away from you.

“I don’t care,” you grin, holding out your arms, which he gladly steps into. You can feel the warmth emanating from his body even as the chilly water droplets seep through the thin cotton of your sundress.

With him still standing in the grass and you at a slightly elevated position in the doorway, you’re able to look down at his wet locks, glistening in the waning afternoon light. You run your fingers through his hair gently, feeling the way it knots even as you try to smooth it down.

Bob makes a valiant effort to hide his wince, but you spot it all the same.

“I know just the thing you need,” you whisper to him, dropping a kiss on his forehead before reaching for his hand and tugging him inside the cabin.

“Where’re you going?” he asks with a laugh as he stands shivering in the small kitchen, his eyebrows rising above the rims of his glasses as you move hurriedly out of the room.

“To get you a towel!” you call back, already in the bedroom and digging through your bags.

When you return a moment later, however, it’s with more than a towel in hand.

Bob watches with a quizzical expression on his handsome face as you set down your shampoo and conditioner bottles next to the kitchen sink on your way to come wrap a warm towel around his shoulders.

“You want to wash off, too, honey?” he asks sweetly, looking down at you as you towel him off. “I can hold the hose up for you.”

“No,” you reply with a smile, shaking your head and meeting his blue eyes. “Not right now.”

“Then what’s that for?” he questions, gesturing towards the bottles of coconut-scented shampoo and conditioner.

“For me to wash your hair, silly,” you tease, booping his nose before dropping the towel to the floor and reaching for a chair from the rickety kitchen table. Before he can so much as open his mouth to reply, you already have it propped against the sink, the back perfectly level with the edge. Bending down, you scoop up the towel you’d been using before and drape it over the back of the chair.

Bob just stares at you in surprise, rubbing the back of his neck as the tips of his ears turn pink. “Aw, sweetheart, you don’t have to—”

“I know,” you cut him off, your eyes twinkling. “I want to. Now sit,” you command, resting your hands on his bare shoulders and gently pushing him down into the seat.

“But you don’t have to use your shampoo,” he protests as he lowers down into the chair. “Isn’t it expensive? My shampoo should be in my—”

“Robert Floyd, I love you, but that 3-in-1 shampoo you travel with is a crime against humanity,” you laugh, making a face to underscore your point. “Probably explains all these knots,” you add, lightly tugging on his sandy brown hair.

“Fair enough.” he mumbles sheepishly in response.

Giggling softly, you bend down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Just relax and enjoy, honey. Let me take care of you.”

Before you can reach to turn the faucet on, Bob snags your wrist and uses the momentum to pull you back down to him, his lips skimming yours as a smile stretches across his face.

“Okay,” he murmurs, pecking the corner of your mouth before you can straighten back up. “Thank you.”

Even after all this time, he still manages to throw you off-kilter in the very best of ways. Your cheeks feel warm and your heart is singing when you pull back and reach for the faucet a second time, managing to turn the water on this time.

It’s just as cold as the water from the hose, but your hands are warm and gentle as they tip his head backwards, thoroughly rinsing his hair and running your fingers through it once again.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have the world’s softest hair?” you query, admiring his glistening locks as they catch the light filtering in through the small window above the sink, the one you had spent about an hour scrubbing the day before.

“Hmm,” he hums softly, his eyes closed and his long fingers laced together across his chest as he loses himself in the feel of your delicate hands in his hair. “Well, you certainly have. On more than one occasion,” he teases, cracking one eye open and gazing up at you.

You grin in response, ducking your head to peck his oh-s0-kissable lips. “At least I’m consistent,” you joke in return, nudging his nose with your own before straightening and reaching for your bottle of coconut milk shampoo.

“That you are,” Bob smiles, bunching up the fabric of your sundress as he raises his hands to grab hold of your waist.

“Don’t distract me,” you giggle, shaking the bottle and squeezing a quarter-sized dollop of shampoo into your palm.

He lets out a soft groan as soon as you run both your hands through his hair, the tropical scent of coconuts filling the distinctly midwestern air. “Feels nice,” he confesses, dropping his hands back down to his chest as he stretches his long legs out in front of him and relaxes further into your touch.

“Good,” you murmur softly, a small furrow appearing between your brows as you concentrate on lathering the shampoo through his honey brown locks. You’d once told him, in a loopy state of exhaustion, that the color of his hair reminded you of Teddy Grahams. To this day, he still finds it hilarious and buys you boxes of the little teddy-shaped crackers whenever you go grocery shopping.

Bob sighs softly as you scratch your fingernails against his scalp, his slightly sunburned chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that matches the beat of your heart. You can see, as well as feel, the tension oozing out of his body, the stress from a long several days of labor being washed away with the coconut suds. Your hands still for a moment as you simply gaze down at him, suddenly moved beyond words at the total trust and vulnerability in his posture.

You must pause for longer than you realize because suddenly those cerulean eyes are fixed on your face from behind his wire-frame glasses, a small smile crinkling the corners of his mouth.

“Getting tired?” he asks with a playful nudge, letting his fingers run over the soft cotton of your dress.

Shaking your head, you smile sheepishly, your hands getting back to work. “Just admiring the view,” you admit, feeling your skin grow warm at the way he looks at you in response.

“Me, too,” he says in a low voice, turning his head ever so slightly to press a kiss to the inside of your forearm.

You massage his scalp for a few minutes longer, then reach for the faucet once more to rinse his hair out, gently detangling all the knots as you do so. Good thing you grabbed the conditioner as well.

“Conditioner, too? I’m really getting the royal treatment,” he chuckles when he feels you rubbing it through the ends of his hair. It’s gotten a little longer while he’s been on leave. He’ll have to cut it again soon enough, but you’re enjoying it while you can.

“Only the best for you, Lieutenant,” you grin, rewarded for your comment by the adorable blush spreading across his skin.

Bob’s eyes pop open again and he watches you this time as you carefully tend to him, so focused on taking care of him and making him feel good.

“C’mere,” he whispers, the husky tone in his voice turning your knees to melted butter as he reaches up and tugs on your waist, pulling you down into a kiss while your hands still rest in his hair.

You’re not sure if it’s just something in this fresh country air, but his kiss tastes like sunshine and wildflowers.

You can feel the “I love you” mouthed against your skin, his lips closing around your bottom lip as he bites down softly.

It takes every ounce of willpower you possess to pull back, a small laugh bubbling up in your throat when you see his little pout, his mouth still searching for yours.

“Let me finish,” you murmur soothingly, washing the conditioner out of his hair.

You let the frigid water cascade over his head a few minutes longer than necessary, your fingers turning to ice as you continue to card them through his Teddy Graham hair. It's only when you see the goosebumps rising on his shoulders that you finally turn the water off, squeezing the ends of his hair in a gentle fist to release some of the excess droplets.

“All done,” you say, laughing when he sits up and begins shaking his head back and forth, looking suspiciously like his family dog. “Stop, stop!” you scold him good-naturedly, reaching for the towel on the back of the chair.

“My goodness, you are impossible,” you tease, stepping between his legs and draping the towel over his head, scrubbing his hair as he reaches up and links his hands behind your back, trapping you against him.

“And you are beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning forward once you lift the towel and pressing a kiss to the center of your chest, just above the neckline of your dress. If he can feel your heart nearly jump out of your chest, he doesn’t say anything about it.

“There, good as new,” you hum, pleased with your work as you watch the silky soft strands of his freshly washed hair glide through your fingers. “And now you smell like coconuts, too,” you add with a grin.

Bob only smiles in response as he slowly stands up, wrapping you in his arms and kissing you soundly.

He still has his arms around you as he kicks the forgotten towel away and begins walking you backwards out of the kitchen and in the direction of the small bedroom, the one with the rickety full-size bed the two of you have been sharing since your arrival.

“What’re you doing?” you laugh, your bare feet tripping along the creaky floorboards as you let him guide you.

“You took care of me,” he says softly, blue eyes twinkling as he rests his forehead against yours, his hands resting securely on your waist. “Now I’m going to take care of you.”

[samkiszkasfacialhair]

Move My Way

Move My Way

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader but every other member of GVF gets some kisses.

Summary: Take a shot… or strip.

Warnings: Alcohol, kissing, implications of sex, spicy Jake

Word Count: 3.5k

This was one of those times in movies where the main character narrates a scene and tells the audience “You may be wondering how I got here.” 

You were on the floor of Josh’s apartment surrounded by three half naked Kiszka boys and Danny who was also in his boxers, reaching for a bottle of vodka on the floor. 

Here’s how you got here- a thunderstorm, a citywide blackout, one of Jake’s teenage memories, and jealousy.

Speaking of teenage memories, you’d been friends with Josh since high school. You did theater with him and remained close as the years went on. Your friendship began including Jake over the years and stayed pretty strong despite the small crush on Jake you’d pushed aside year after year. Sam and Danny had always been around as well and you had a good bond with them too. Even as they became successful and began touring and eventually moving out of Michigan, you remained friends with all of them.

You planned a weekend trip to Nashville to see them and go out to some of their favorite spots now that they’d lived there and got acclimated for a few months now. However, when you originally planned your trip, you didn’t plan on a huge storm hitting while you were there, preventing you from going out bar hopping with the guys like you originally planned.

Instead, everyone was sprawled out over couches, chairs, and the floor of Josh’s living room watching movies and eating popcorn when his TV screen went black and every light in his apartment went out. 

You all tried your phones, no wifi. 

Any phone service you had was limited.

Jake stood up from the floor and used his phone flashlight to guide him to a window. He pulled back the living room curtains to be met with nothing but a sea of black with wind and rain whipping at the window.

“It’s a blackout!” he said excitedly, “The entire city is down, look!”

Danny and Sam eagerly got up and ran to the window to see like two little kids while Josh headed for his bedroom

You followed behind him, already knowing what he was headed for.

He dug around in the bottom drawer of his nightstand in the darkness for a second, before pulling out a bunch of candles and handing you some.

You headed back into the living room and placed the candles on his coffee table. 

“Does anyone have a li-”

You didn’t even need to finish your sentence before Sam was tossing you a lighter. 

“Thanks,” you said as you caught it and began lighting up the candles you had set on the table.

Josh joined you all in the living room with more candles, lighting the rest of them and giving his apartment a warm glow.

“So, now what do we do? Wait it out?” Sam asked.

“And do what, Sam? It could be like this for hours,” Jake replied.

Sam shrugged and looked at the floor. 

Josh didn’t have much. He had only moved here a few months ago and with all the work they were doing, he didn’t spend a ton of time in the apartment. For entertainment, he had a TV, a few books, and a mostly empty bar cart.

“You got beer, Josh?” Jake asked.

“Yeah, I think-” Josh answered as he got up to go to the kitchen when Danny stopped him.

“Don’t open the fridge if you don't have to. Keep the cool air in or else everything in there will go bad,” Danny advised.

He was right as always. 

So for the better part of 30 minutes, you all sat around, trying to come up with ideas of things to do.

Eventually the conversation went onto discussing childhood and teenage memories. 

It moved from reminiscing about toys you once had, to people you once knew, to people you’ve each kissed. 

Josh made the executive decision that everyone must share their first kiss stories. And since you had nothing better to do…

Danny was fifteen. It was with a girl he went to camp with who he never saw again. 

Josh’s was when he was fourteen. It was for a play. Romeo and Juliet. Enough said. 

Sam was seventeen and it was with the girl he had just broken things off with last month after being together two years. 

You were just about to share yours when Jake interrupted. 

Jake wasn’t really a participant in the whole group conversation. Instead, he laid on an area rug and played around with a bottle of vodka, spinning it around on the hardwood floor close by.

“My first kiss was because of a bottle of Tito’s,” he said with his eyes fixated on the bottle, “Sixth grade. Kaylee Kowalski’s basement. Spin the bottle.”

Jake was in a daydream of teenage memories with a small smile on his face.

You stared at him with a hint of jealousy stinging in your chest. You were at that party. You watched him kiss Kaylee Kowalski in front of everyone, wishing it was you instead of her. 

Back in middle school, everyone knew Jake and Kaylee liked each other. It was like that party in Kaylee’s basement was made for them to kiss. You watched all his friends cheer him on and watched all her friends giggle. You remember thinking to yourself how lucky she was. From across the room, you watched him talk to her the rest of the night while she twirled her hair stupidly. 

You remembered becoming friends with Josh and seeing Jake around, hoping somehow, one day, you could be the one he wanted the same way he wanted Kaylee Kowalski.

And now, even though you were both adults, that was way in the past, and Kaylee’s family moved away a few years later, for some reason, those teenage feelings came back full force and made you bubble with anger and jealousy. 

You woke him up from his day dream real quick when you gasped as an idea for redemption hit you.

“What?” he asked hesitantly, catching a sinister look in your eye.

“Spin the bottle,” you replied, practically jumping out of your chair.

“Spin the bottle?” he repeated. He was asking a question but at the same time, he wasn’t.

“Yes, spin the bottle! Besides, what else is there to do?”

“Not kiss my brothers?” 

You rolled your eyes and took the bottle from his hands.

“You don’t have to kiss your brother’s look… If the bottle lands on yourself or someone who you don’t want to kiss, you have two options. Take a shot… or...” you paused, looking around the room for another option. 

“Or strip,” Jake interrupted bluntly.

Immediately, Sam, Josh, and Danny started protesting but you tuned them out as you caught Jake’s eyes staring you down from across the circle. 

All of it sounded like background noise as your eyes dropped from Jake’s eyes, to his lips, and finally to his bare chest peeking through his half buttoned shirt.

“M’kay,” you said, smirking and regaining eye contact with him once more.

“That’s not fair!” Sam shouted, bringing you back to reality. You looked at him in just a pair of shorts and a short sleeve button up shirt. 

“What? Both alternatives are equally as humiliating as me having to kiss each of you in front of everyone here. BUT! The game will end when I have kissed each of you. Or until someone’s naked,” you explained.

After shutting Sam down, you looked around the circle of them, all shrugging their shoulders. They knew this game was the best alternative to doing absolutely nothing. Plus it was bound to give you all some silly entertainment, get the group tipsy, and give you what you’d wanted since you were thirteen.

“Well,” Jake began, “ladies first,” he said as he placed the bottle on the rug and sat back down across from you.

“No way, I’m outnumbered! You go first!” you shot back.

Being the gentleman he was, he smiled, reached forward, and gave the bottle his best. The five of you watched it in anticipation as it slowed down. 

It came to a stop facing Danny.

You all broke out into fits of laughter and Danny puckered his lips out to Jake jokingly.

Without hesitation, Jake reached for the bottle and took a swig of it effortlessly.

Lame.

That was how the first couple rounds went. No one wanted to be the first one to kiss someone, understandably, so you all opted for the alternatives.

After a bit of time, you had each had a few shots and you all were getting hit with the effects of them. At that point, everyone except Josh stopped taking shots and started stripping. 

Jake and Danny kept their jeans on but so far were shirtless. You were just as they were, but in your bra. Sam was in nothing but a pair of boxers. And Josh, being stubborn, was fully clothed but a lot drunker than anyone else.

Next up to spin the bottle was Josh. You knew he was ready to take a break from drinking but he was also stubborn enough to be the last one completely clothed just so he could say he won. After all, you knew the other three guys were a bit more interested in kissing a girl than he was. He spun the bottle and it came to a stop at Jake. 

You all giggled, including Jake who figured Josh would give in and take off a piece of clothing. Josh however, was never afraid to shake things up and did the exact opposite of what Jake anticipated.

“Alright since none of you have any balls,” he said as he leaned forward on his knees, grabbed Jake’s face, and gave him a dramatic kiss on the lips, pulling back with a “MWAH” sound as Jake pushed him back off him, laughing.

Even if it was a joke, it was the first kiss of the night.

Jake wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand as all of you laughed hysterically at what had just happened. Jake was a good sport about it and it was all for fun. 

After a few jokes directed to Jake, everyone's laughter faded and it was your turn again.

You spun the bottle and waited for it to finish spinning. 

Josh kissing Jake as a joke pushed the game into a new direction- you knew whoever it landed on, you’d have to kiss.

And who did it land on? Josh.

The look of shock on his face sent you all into another fit of laughter. 

“Come on, Josh, kissing a girl won't kill you,” you teased as you turned to him and sat up on your knees.

Josh rolled his eyes playfully and lifted his chin up just a bit, waiting for you.

But you weren’t going for just a peck or a joke. It was game time. You wanted Jake to see this. You wanted Jake to be able to see himself in Josh, kissing you. 

The same nose, brushing against yours.

The same lips, wrapping around yours.

The same tongue, teasing yours.

You sat on your knees in front of him and cupped his jaw as he fought back a smile.

You inched your face closer to his and the second your mouth hit his, both of you broke into laughter that blew out of your puckered lips, practically spitting on eachother.

You couldn’t help it. Kissing Josh felt incredibly weird. 

But you weren’t worried. You had all night, clothes to lose, and two more unkissed boys in the circle. 

Next up to spin the bottle was Sam.

He reached for the bottle. You all knew what Sam was thinking. He was hoping for himself so he wouldn’t have to kiss anyone or for Danny so he could make a joke out of it like Josh did.

He got the exact opposite. 

He got you. 

There was no way he could say no to you without his brothers teasing him for the rest of his life, especially now that the game had taken on a new tone.

Even in the candlelight, you watched his face turn a shade of pink.

Sam was nineteen and still didn’t have much experience with girls- that much you all knew. He had one girlfriend his entire life so far. You knew he wasn’t a saint, but you knew he’d only ever been with one person.

To have to kiss a girl in front of his older, more experienced brothers was a living nightmare for him. Plus, out of everyone, he had the least amount of clothes on, which added to his embarrassment.

But at that moment, you figured you could help Sam out. You were about to give him the kiss of his life. This had the potential to end Jake and Josh’s teasing forever. And it could in turn help you out too. 

You watched Jake clench his jaw when the bottle landed on you. You could see daggers in his eyes as he looked at Sam. He was jealous. 

Good.

On your hands and knees, you crawled over to Sam slowly and met him across the circle where he sat criss-crossed and trying incredibly hard not to look at your chest. 

He was breathing through parted lips and once you got close enough to him, he tilted his face up to meet yours.

“Close your eyes,” you whispered right before your mouth connected to his.

You went for it with Sam. 

You kissed him hard and he kissed back. One of his hands naturally grabbed your ass and the other grabbed the back of your head and pushed you further into his mouth, deepening the kiss both figuratively and literally. 

Sam had nice lips and even though he was a little inexperienced and therefore a little sharp with his movements, you had to admit, the kiss was decent. 

You lapped your tongue at him just enough and Sam involuntarily hummed into your kiss, seemingly forgetting where he was. You pulled back and broke the kiss, watching a look of shock appear on Sam’s face as he opened his eyes.

He shook his head like a wet dog and swallowed hard before running his hands through his hair and looking around the circle. 

“You okay, Sammy Boy?” Jake asked with a hint of laughter in his voice. 

His tone was condescending. You took notice of what he called Sam. 

Sammy Boy.

He did that on purpose. He wanted Sam to feel young and small, like a little kid. 

“Yes,” Sam stated matter of factly, “I’ve never been better, actually!” 

Danny, Josh, and you all laughed with Sam. 

Sam’s sweetness overshadowed Jake’s harshness and completely backfired on him, making him look like an asshole to the rest of the people in the room.

Perfect.

You waited it out with Jake. You spun the bottle and it landed on him. But you rolled your eyes and took your pants off, leaving you in just your bra and underwear (which thankfully matched and was a cute set).

Eventually he caught on. He spun the bottle when it was his turn and of course, it landed on you. So what did he do? He took his pants off.

The air was filled with tension. Josh, Sam, and Danny stared at each other awkwardly, knowing exactly what was going on at that point.

The game continued on for a bit. Jake took shots so he wouldn’t have to kiss his brothers or Danny in his underwear. Besides, he was waiting it out for you. 

You, on the other hand, kissed his brothers and Danny in your underwear just to make him madder. 

The boys took shots and stripped sock by sock while you went for the kisses. You gave Danny and Sam gentle kisses but you did make sure you gave Sam just a tiny bit more feeling. You and Josh gave each other pecks that ended in laughter because you couldn’t take each other seriously. 

Then, it was your turn again. However this time, all you had left on was your bra and underwear. Taking anything else off would be too much. And you couldn’t handle another shot of vodka burning it’s way down your throat and feeling it swish around in your stomach. 

You leaned forward to spin the bottle and you could feel Jake’s eyes practically burning into you.

For what felt like an eternity, the bottle spun. Finally slowing itself down after passing Sam, Danny, and Josh. It came to a halt, pointed in between Jake and Sam, but was tilted just a bit more in Jake’s favor. 

Finally.

You and Jake locked eyes from across the circle and it was game time. 

“C’mere,” he said as jutted up his chin and sat back on his hands, opening up his lap for you.

Sure your kisses with Danny were sweet and your kisses with Sam were hot but they meant nothing. This one was about to be real and it had been building up not only for the past hour, but for the past 10 years. 

You crawled around Josh and over to Jake. You could tell every single eye in the room was on the two of you and you didn’t care. In fact, you liked it. 

While keeping eye contact, you straddled his lap.

The hair on his legs brushed against your skin and the only thing between the two of you were a couple thin layers of cotton. You could literally feel his dick on your thigh through his underwear.

His eyes were dark and tired as he looked up at you. 

He reached one hand up, now only supporting his body weight with the hand still resting on the floor behind his back, and gently gripped it around the back of your neck, rubbing his thumb along your jawline. 

“I bet Kaylee Kowalski wishes she was you right now,” he whispered.

“Shut up and kiss me,” you replied, also in a whisper, closing the gap between the two of you. 

The second your lips hit his, you found yourself in heaven. This had been what you’d been wanting since you were thirteen. Only now, Jake wasn’t cute with his Beiber cut and braces. Now he was a man and he was sexy. 

Jake started slow. His pillow soft lips fit perfectly on yours and made you want more with each kiss. 

His mouth tasted like vodka combined with the flavor of cherry lime vape juice, and just the sweet flavor of that alone had you humming into his mouth. 

You sucked his bottom lip in and pulled at it just a bit with your teeth before he broke the kiss and sat up to pull you closer to him. 

As he went deeper, his tongue teased at your lip and you did the same to him, letting them slide against each other as your lips continued moving. 

Jake was taking you to a completely different world. You were completely lost in him and his kisses and you had to thank God you were adults now and not teenagers in a basement party so you could really do what you wanted to do to him. 

Unfortunately, the sound of Josh, Danny, and Sam letting out celebratory cheers brought you out of your Jake induced daydream and back to reality. 

You broke away from Jake with a smack of your lips and looked around Josh’s apartment to see every light on. 

“Alright games over, get a room!” Josh, who was still fully clothed, yelled dramatically as he picked up the bottle of vodka and headed to his bedroom for the night.

Sam and Danny laughed everything off as they threw their shirts back on and threw themselves onto Josh’s couches for the night with the TV now on as background noise for them to fall asleep to.

Now able to fully see and after a taste of each other that you’d both been wanting for 10 years, you and Jake looked at each other and laughed. 

“I like this game,” he said. His voice was soft but gravely at the same time.

Even though the power was back, it was late and the night was over for the entire city; except you and Jake. 

Thankful for Josh’s two bedroom apartment, you whispered, “You wanna keep playing?”

Without saying a word, he started to get up, urging you to get off him first. The two of you got off the floor and headed for Josh’s guest room, leaving your clothes behind on his living room carpet. 

Upon entering, Jake closed the door, locked it, and turned off the light, leaving you two in darkness once again. 

He pulled you in close to him and kissed you gently before speaking just above a whisper.

“You said the game was over when you kissed everyone right?” 

“Mhm,” you hummed, “that or once someone is completely naked.”

Jake smirked as he walked you backwards towards the bed. The back of your knees hit it and you fell back with Jake on top of you. You could see nothing but his teeth and the whites of his eyes in the dark room when he whispered,

“Game over.”

Author's Note: This one has been in the drafts for a while. Don't come for me about incest because this is far from it. It's all silly. They kiss each other on stage anyway.

[assortedcriminality]

Thursday - part II

part I

Monday

Civilian woke in the dark, lying under the warm covers of the bed. They blinked, eyes adjusting to their surroundings. A bit of light peeked out from the black curtains on the other side of the room. A glance at the side table, bare save for a small digital clock, told them it was already well past nine. They jerked into a sitting position, a jolt of panic electrifying their body, throwing back the blanket and preparing to jump into an accelerated version of their morning routine. Before they could, the sight of the completely unfamiliar room before them jogged their memory of the previous day.

With a loud sigh, Civilian collapsed backward, tangled hair splaying over the pillow. What a mess. They couldn't believe they'd even agreed to take a message to Villain in the first place. Hero had told them, a lowly assistant with no powers or training, to meet one of the most dangerous criminals in the city with no backup. And, like a total idiot, Civilian had agreed. They should've stood up to them and refused to do it. How did they not see that Hero had something planned? The crime-fighter could easily deliver a letter, there was no reason for them to ask Civilian—except, of course, an ulterior motive. To pay Villain back for whatever deal the two of them had together. It was all so stupid. 

Civilian sat up and pushed the covers back, glancing around at the largely empty space. They didn’t know what they would’ve expected Villain’s guest room to look like, but it was very… gray. Gray walls, gray carpet, gray sheets and blanket. The only furniture aside from the bed and side table was a dresser across the room. Atop it sat an empty flower vase and an envelope. Supposing they might as well get up at some point, Civilian stretched before hopping out of bed, haphazardly tossing the blanket back into place. They crossed the room, picking up the envelope. ‘Civilian’ was written on it in a looping script they never would’ve guessed was Villain’s handwriting. They were learning all kinds of things about their boss’ nemesis. Civilian ripped open the seal and pulled out the folded note. 

Civilian-

I have work to do today and won’t be back until tonight. There are clean clothes in the dresser and you can have anything from the kitchen. I’ve locked the doors and windows and taken out everything with WiFi--it’s for your safety. I don’t think Hero would try anything, but it’s best to be cautious. There are books and DVDs in the living room. Use whatever you want. We can talk when I get back.

Villain 

Civilian set the note down, suddenly uncomfortable. Maybe Hero wasn’t the greatest, but Villain was still on the wrong side. They didn’t want to know what their ‘work’ entailed. Hearing that they were fully locked in the house made their situation more real. They were truly, actually a hostage. A prisoner. Maybe it was for their own good, to pacify Hero and make sure someone else didn’t pay the price for their irritation. But that didn’t make Civilian’s situation any more fun. And neither did the fact that they apparently wouldn’t have any access to the internet for the next three days. 

“Think of it as a screen-free break,” they said aloud. “A totally voluntary vacation with no work and no responsibilities.” It didn’t make them feel much better. 

They picked out dark jeans and a white T-shirt from the dresser and put them on, folding their old clothes and placing them in an empty drawer. After trying a few doors in the hall, they found the bathroom, which Villain had apparently already stocked with toiletries. It was weird to think about the master criminal picking out a toothbrush for them. Hero had always made Villain out to be a monster to Civilian, often mentioning rumors of the terrible things they’d done. Recorded fights between the two looked brutal, each pummeling the other with their powers and fists. Hero was always fiery, literally, anger turning their face redder than the flames shooting from their hands. What made Villain scary was their icy calm, eyes sharply intelligent but bored and uncaring through their mask. 

And now Civilian was looking through that same terrifying criminal’s fridge, which mostly held takeout containers and yogurt. They supposed if Hero could force their own assistant to be their greatest nemesis’ captive, the infamous Villain could enjoy strawberry Yoplait. People were complicated like that.

After finishing a bowl of slightly stale wheat cereal, Civilian started snooping. The house wasn’t enormous, but it was tastefully furnished with expensive-looking decor and appliances. The halls were lined with paintings, several of which Civilian swore they recognized from articles they’d read about recent museum thefts. Most of the doors they tried were locked--in fact, it seemed as though the only rooms Civilian had access to were their room, the kitchen, the living room, and a sitting room with three enormous bookshelves. The books it held were worn, and every one Civilain flipped through was covered in annotations inked in Villain’s neat cursive handwriting. 

Deciding they were too tired to focus on reading, they chose to spend the day watching movies and eating whatever non-expired snacks they could find in Villain’s cabinets. The bin of DVDs in the living room was almost entirely made up of old detective films, with a few rom-coms thrown in. Civilian put in the disc for The Maltese Falcon and sat down on the plush couch, hugging their knees to their chest. They closed their eyes and let the noise from the movie wash over them, trying not to think too hard about their situation. There was nothing they could do about it now. They just had to wait until Villain got back, and maybe they could figure it all out. Maybe it could all be fine. 

* * *

It was past midnight when Villain landed back on their porch, moonlight casting a soft glow over their black hood. They unlocked the door with a quiet click, taking off their disguise as they went in and closed the door securely behind them. They could hear the TV playing quietly inside.

“Civilian, I’m back,” they called as they opened a panel in the wall that hid their suit and placed it inside. “I heard something today that I want to talk to you about.” They slid off their shoes before strolling down the hall and pausing in the living room doorway. “Civilian?” There was no response. Villain flicked on the light, revealing the captive curled up and sound asleep in the corner of the couch, head resting against the cushion. They couldn’t help the smile that tugged at their mouth at the sight. They crossed the room, pressing the power button on the remote to turn off the noir film Civilian had been watching. 

Civilian looked so peaceful like that, their chest slowly rising and falling, their face devoid of any stress or fear. If being Hero’s assistant was as bad as it seemed, maybe this situation was almost a blessing for them. Villain had known Hero for years now, well enough to have an idea of the kinds of things they would put their employees through. Their smile disappeared at the thought. Civilian wasn’t here on vacation. They weren’t here as a punishment, either. They were here because Hero thought it would be fun to meddle in their personal life, to force them to be held prisoner just because they could. And they’d made Villain the warden. 

Villain never should have mentioned their plans for Thursday to Other Villain. They knew better. The city might think the criminals created the masterful schemes, but Hero used everyone as their pawns. They gazed at Civilian’s tranquil expression, hoping the innocent assistant could escape Hero’s web once this was all over. Villain knew that Civilian would be safe as long as they stayed in the house, but they couldn’t account for what Hero might do on Thursday, or when Civilian quit. It was too much to put on someone who didn’t sign up for it, who didn’t even have powers to defend themself. It was Villain’s responsibility to take care of them, protect them--with force, if necessary. It was the least they could do. With a sigh, Villain took a folded blanket from the other side of the couch and gently covered Civilian with it, glancing at them one last time before turning off the light and closing the door behind them. 

“Goodnight, Civilian. Sleep well.” 

Word count: 1432

@sausages-things (sorry I forgot to tag last time!) @chaotic-orphan

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

THTH 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Ransom Drysdale

Summary: You have a secret, but what do you do when it threatens to come out.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Ugh, goddamn it,” you hiss as you reach your phone to the sky. The signal is shit around here. You watch the little circle, waiting for a check mark to appear; nothing.

Three days. The bandwidth has been in and out for three days and you haven’t been able to upload a single thing. Not even a message. This is dumb. You growl at your phone and toss it on your bed. It bounces and hits the wall.

You huff and cross your arms. It’s not fair. Those three days could’ve made you money. You can’t even leech off the library wifi because of the content filters. So ridiculous. You’re just trying to make a living.

A tap comes at the door and you flinch. You quickly scoop up your phone and go to the door. You tuck it in your back pocket and pull your shirt down to cover the top. You open the door and peek out at your mom.

“Everything okay?” She asks.

“Uh, yep, just dropped something.”

“Oh, nothing broke, I hope.”

“All good,” you smile. She chews her lip anxiously, as she often does. “I’ll be down for dinner soon. Smells good.”

“Alright,” she says, “it’s almost done. Your favourite; spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Mmm, awesome.”

You shut the door and roll your eyes. Spaghetti isn’t your favourite. It’s what she says is your favourite. Just like everything else, it has to fit within her rules. If she says you like yellow, well then, you like yellow. It isn’t worth the argument to have a personality.

You take out the phone again. You nearly squeal as the check mark turns green. It sent! Just a text post notifying your few followers of the unexpected technical difficulties. You’ll be fortunate if they don’t bleed off to the other girls. When there’s so much variety, you can’t expect horny men not to hop on the next page with a pretty girl in lacy underwear…or less.

You scroll down but the rest of the posts show the blank blocks, pulsing as they struggle to load. You check the menu. Signal’s gone again. Welp, at least that went through.

You go to your bed and hide your phone under the mattress. Your parents know about your laptop, that’s your alibi. You tell them you do transcription work online. That doesn’t pay enough so you have the secret phone for your real business; you.

It isn’t exactly a career but it’s a means to an end. You’ll save up enough and be out of Hammer Ford in no time. You’re almost twenty and running out of time. A gap year is expected, but two? That’s sad.

Besides, you’re done with this life. You need out of this house. You are an adult. Your parents can’t make you eat your peas or ban you from the romance section in the library. One day, hopefully soon, you’ll be free.

For now, you’re going to go downstairs and pretend your mother’s spaghetti and meatballs isn’t complete mush.

📱

Days pass as you stare helplessly at the flashing bars in the corner of your phone. Damn phone company. The data plan was supposed to be a backup, even if you could only afford the cheapest vendor on the market. You at least thought it would work!

You manage to get a decent signal up on Thunder Lane by the hotel. It might be worth it to just walk in and get their wifi. You don’t think they’d care much. There aren’t many guests passing through now, are there?

The only benefit of your forced break is how much time it gave you to create new content. You choose the set of photos you took with the bunny ears and the barely there white teddy. You quickly flick through the settings and set the paywall. At least you’ll have money coming in before…

Yep, no internet. You’re lucky even that went through. You roll your eyes and hop back in the family oldsmobile. Your mother doesn’t let you have it often but you told her you were going for coffee and would fill up the tank.

As you roll up to the sleepy main row of Hammer Ford, your phone vibes. You quickly put it back to silent and check the notification. Your data’s flickering as you see the first response to your post. That was quick. Turns out someone did miss you.

_ransom_ware commented: ‘welcome back, bunny’.

You tap on the bubble but the app won’t load. Damnit! At least you have automatic deposit enabled. His tip will hit your account in a couple days.

You get out of the car and cross the street to the bakery. You could butter your mom up with some tarts, maybe convince her to let you take the car into the city. That might be your best chance at catching up. You could schedule posts and not have to fight with the damn countryside desolation.

As you enter the bakery, it’s quiet. There’s one person at a table. You don’t recognise him. He has his back to you so you don’t think much of it. Probably just another lumber worker sating their repressed sweet tooth. Although, he is dressed a bit too nice for that. No plaid or denim? Huh.

You go up to the counter and order a half-dozen cherry tarts and a latte. You pay with the secret credit card you use for your online transactions and thank the girl behind the counter. As you turn, you find the man at the table turned in his seat. He glances at you as you carry out the tray of tarts and coffee.

You’re used to the stares. The men in Hammer Ford aren’t exactly subtle and your nights at The Horn have earned you a reputation, though those stories don’t make it past your front door. It’s just a little fun, you have a pint and tie your shirt above your belly button and dance. Nothing serious.

Your mom and dad are too chaste and pious to ever wander into the bar. It’s your escape, your safe space. Just for now. Just until you can get out of this hell hole.

[bluejackals]

odyssey cuddle pt1

very short, set sometime between the undivorce and parrot becoming leader. there will be a part 2

Sunlight slips a bright wedge into the gap between blackout curtains and the windowsill, tumbling forward across the blankets. 

Wifies sticks a hand into the expanse of warmth and watches tiny dust particles drift down onto him. The movement is small, the sound of skin on blanket nearly inaudible. But nearly inaudible isn’t the same as silent, and so the living, breathing mass of feathers and muscle next to him stirs and two golden eyes open to stare at him.

“Morning,” Parrot says, without a trace of drowsiness. 

“Morning,” Wifies says back, rolling onto his side to face Parrot. “I didn’t wake you up.”

“No,” Parrot murmurs. “I’ve been up for around twenty minutes.” 

“Why not get out of bed? Not that I mind that you didn’t.” 

“Didn’t need to. I don’t have to be at the warriors’ until a bit later.” Parrot stretches a wing out, disturbing their comfortable fortress of blankets. Wifies just holds the blankets until he’s done and has tucked his wing back into place. It twitches, pushing Wifies closer to Parrot. A silent, routine apology for letting some of the heat trapped in the blankets escape, Wifies supposes, since Parrot knows he runs cold. 

“Wonder what they’d think,” Wifies says, half-teasing. “A warrior having sleepovers with a farmer.”

“Shut up,” Parrot groans. “I was both on the test. It’s fine.”

“So it wouldn’t be fine if you weren’t both?” Maybe Ken has been rubbing off on Wifies more than he thought. One of Parrot’s talons smacks him in the shin. 

“It would still be fine,” Parrot says. “They can’t stop me.” 

“They could kick you out,” suggests Wifies. 

“Nah, they need me.” 

Parrot’s smile is lazy, butter-yellow-confident just like the sunshine, and Wifies gives up on holding a straight face. He snorts. 

Parrot lets out an amused huff, reaching out a hand to tussle with Wifies’s already terrible bed head. Wifies feels his tail wag at that, even as he takes a halfhearted swipe at Parrot’s hand. “They really do,” Parrot says. “They need something new. But not at this exact moment.”

Wifies must make a strange expression, because Parrot blinks and his hand pauses in its motions. “You look confused.”

Confused? Interesting. Wifies touches his own face. Parrot chuckles at that, but a tiny furrow forms between his eyes. 

“What’s up?” He asks. 

A lot is up, actually. Parrot’s braids stayed done overnight, neatly preserved with diamond clasps. Before the Farlands, they’d always been undone when he lay sleeping next to Wifies. Their neatness now is a clear reminder of Wifies’s mistake. Parrot might look at him with that butter-yellow smile, might ask for Wifies’s help, but he’s not forgetful. Wifies can’t afford to be either. Ken always tells him he doesn’t want for much, and if she’s right about that, then this—Parrot’s walls coming down, as much as they can—is one of Wifies’s few wants. He craves the closeness that he was spoiled with before. 

Yet with that craving comes stinging guilt, because he already has so much and he still wants more, because he’s been given a purpose again, a place by Parrot’s side and it isn’t enough, even though he doesn’t even deserve this much. 

The whirlwind of thoughts builds in Wifies’s head, cutting through the slowness of the morning. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t want that smile to leave Parrot’s face, doesn’t want to ruin his morning. Wifies’s mistakes shouldn’t weigh him down. 

So he pulls his facial muscles into a smile to reflect Parrot’s and clasps Parrot’s wrist. “Nothing urgent. It can wait, I promise.”

“Okay,” Parrot says. “If you say so.”

[pineconnie]

I actually want to yap about Wato and Wemmbu because they are SO IMPORTANT TO ME😭😭. Wato and egg are the people who know Wemmbu the best on unstable, they’ve seen from the beginning to the end. Although neither were there for what he was like before Zam, they’ve seen and recognized the aftermath. I think this understanding of Wemmbu is the reason Wato trusts him so much. She knows that Wemmbu is selfish, self centered, but also SO loyal to those he cares for. She saw Wemmbu’s loyalty to Zam despite everything, and how he puts Egg above everything. He also in the finale, understood Wemmbu’s morals and actions finally. He will act in his own self interest above all else EXCEPT for when Egg’s (or Zam) is involved. And I think that really made Wato trust him because Wato is the exact same way. He puts his own safety and self interest above all except for when it comes to Ken and Wifies but even then, it’s not always. Wato always knows, especially with Egg with Wemmbu, he won’t hurt innocent people or go too far. Id say that’s why they trusted him with Ken’s statis’s and fought with him during the finale. Even in the finale, wemmbu checked up on Egg(and Wato) multiple times during the fight with Ferre, putting himself at risk to make sure they stayed alive

I reallyyyy like their dynamic and I hope Wato is in more of his story this season!! -👁️🦜

I LOVEEE WATO AND WEMMBUUU ToT one of the only friendships that’s isn’t straight up doomed in uu TO ME (don’t mention anything that makes them doomed i need this /j) plus i think them having like a fairly good? relationship while still not being so close they’d die for each other (like every other duo on this server LMAO) is really good 4 them … it’s def built more on trust than anything else i think, LET THEM KEEP A SOMEWHAT GOOD FRIENDSHIP PLEASE UNSTABLE SCRIPT 😭🙏

[syrikif]

Gamer Etiquette

Kodzuken x Streamer!Y/N

Pairing: Kenma Kozume x Fem!Reader

Genre: SMAU, Written Elements, Strangers to Lovers, Romance, Fluff, Humor, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Streamer/Youtuber AU

Upcoming content creator/streamer, Y/N, has gone viral for lots of things. Her infamous dumb moments, her blended cookie recipe (which tastes better than it sounds), the way she rages at her friends during games, and about a hundred more.

But her most recent viral moment? Accidentally knocking famous streamer, Kodzuken, off the Bedwars map and making him lose his two year winning streak.

Now with more attention (and hate) than she ever asked for, her only option left is to go to the source: the man himself, Kenma Kozume.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Chapter 4 (b): Guilt

Word Count: 2659

To be honest, Kenma is doing this entirely out of guilt. 

Sure it isn’t technically his fault that people have no self control and don’t know how to mind their own business, but his fans were probably the main root of the problem. So he felt some sort of responsibility towards her, regardless that they’d never met before today. 

“Are you loaded in yet?” He waits a few seconds, almost impatiently so, his eyebrows slowly raising as he waits even longer. “Y/N?” 

A soft sound of movement, a throat clearing, “Sorry, what?” 

Kenma sighs, “Are you loaded into the game yet?” 

“Oh- yeah. I mean almost, my wifi’s being weird.” She laughs then and it’s so painfully forced that Kenma physically feels himself cringe. He has to give the girl props though, she’s doing a lot better acting excited than he is despite the fact that she seems more nervous. 

He’d only asked for her discord on complete impulse, not really considering what would happen if she agreed until it was too late. Don’t get him wrong though, he isn’t upset about it; finding new people to play his favorite games with is always enjoyable for Kenma. 

But he also isn’t looking forward to this being any more awkward than it already is. 

“Are you on the server already?” 

Kenma shakes his head, “No, I’m waiting for you to be ready so I can start streaming.” 

“Oh,” she says and Kenma only then realizes that he’s been treating her like he treats everyone else, even though they know essentially nothing about each other. “Sorry, I’ll be done as soon-.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” And now he’s interrupting her; great first impression, Kenma. “I’m trying to finish eating right now anyways.” 

She doesn’t say anything for a moment and then, almost out of nowhere, “What are you eating?” 

Funny thing about that though is that he’s not. 

“Ummmmm-,” he trails off, desperately searching his brain for some sort of response. “Apple pie,” he finally manages to say. 

“Wait really?” Y/N suddenly sounds much more genuine than she had mere seconds ago. 

Kenma hums in confirmation, head nodding even though he’s currently lying straight through his teeth. 

Why? Who knows. Kenma definitely doesn’t. 

“I had apple pie too,” she goes on to explain. “Literally like ten minutes before I turned on my PC.” 

Kenma isn’t actually eating any apple pie right now, so it’s not as much of the insane coincidence that Y/N seems to think it is. But it is one of his favorite desserts, so he did have some fairly recently enough for it to be considered at least a bit strange. 

“You’re kidding,” he tries to match her enthusiasm.  

“Do I look like the type of girl to joke about something as serious as apple pie?” She’s teasing him now but his mind is slow to pick up on it, unintentionally leaving her in awkward silence as he processes her words. 

“I don’t know,” he drags out the last syllable. “You sound like someone who would.” Kenma has never actually seen what Y/N looks like - and sure he might be comfortable lying to her about eating apple pie - but joking about her appearance without even properly seeing it first seems like a line he shouldn’t cross. 

She scoffs then and Kenma can almost picture the exact face she pulls in the process, having frequently seen the same expression on his own roommate’s. “I have literally never been so offended in my entire life.” 

Kenma subconsciously shrugs, “I have to keep everyone humble somehow, you know.” 

~~~

“I got some stone,” Kenma tells Y/N as he runs over to drop a Stone Pickaxe in front of her. Although, this time he does it close enough to ensure that she doesn’t have to move to pick it up. 

“Oh thanks,” Y/N herself is busy collecting wood, but she’s definitely mining more than she really needs at the moment. 

“I know I explained this a bit earlier but we wanted to stream together just to clear some stuff up,” Kenma says when he notices how confused everyone still is in his chat. “Like how we actually don’t know each other. Right Y/N?” 

Y/N’s character suddenly turns to him in game, mimicking a head nod. “Yeah, I have no idea who this guy is. What’s your name again? Kenny?” Kenma admits that he has to stifle a laugh as she starts running around him in circles. “Well I guess I wouldn’t know because I don’t know you.” 

Kenma rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah,” she easily agrees. “Just like how we didn’t know each other during that game, I also totally didn’t mean to kill you either.”

“Oh yeah definitely not,” Kenma nods, looking over at his chat for a brief second as Y/N stops before a random oak tree to start collecting even more wood. 

Why is y/n mining so much wood???? 😭 😭

y/n’s skin is so cutteeee

I love how Kenma’s just watching her run around lol

But Kenma’s attention is suddenly brought back to the game when he hears the sound of something being attacked, only to see his health two and a half hearts lower and Y/N standing suspiciously far away from him.

“What did you just do?” 

“Huh? What?” She plays innocent almost too well. “What do you mean?” 

“I’m beginning to think you killed me on purpose,” he teases as he starts making his way towards a cave he spots in the ground. 

She gasps, as though she genuinely feels betrayed by his words. “Of course I didn’t mean to, I would never do something like that.” 

He nods as he enters the cave, immediately running towards a vein of coal embedded into the wall. “Oh right of course. Because I totally didn’t see you aiming that fireball at me or anything the other day.” He shakes his head light heartedly as he begins collecting the coal with his own stone pickaxe. 

“See I’m glad you agree with me, Kenma,” Y/N joins his side in the cave, mining the stone beside him before placing down a crafting table. 

His head subconsciously tilts, “I thought you didn’t know my name.” 

Kenma watches as she places a furnace next to the crafting table, “That was before.” 

“Before what?” He opens the furnace when he sees it light up, his curiosity satisfied when he realizes that she’s cooking some Porkchops. 

“Before I knew it. Obviously.”

“Oh duh,” Kenma makes a show of facepalming, adjusting his hand just enough to look into the lens of his camera. “Should’ve known. How could I be so dumb?” 

“You tell me,” she says nonchalantly. “Isn’t that like your forte?” 

Kenma pauses at her words, shifting his gaze back to his monitor as he uses his mouse to slowly turn and look at her. “What?” 

“What?” 

LMAOOOOO

y/n has no chill lol

STOP CUS I LOVE HER

“Did you just call me dumb?” He’s definitely hearing things, because there’s no way that the girl who was fake laughing twenty minutes ago is now teasing him like they’d been friends for years. 

“What- no- I would never- I mean-,” she’s stuttering practically on purpose at this point. “Oh, iron!” 

Kenma turns his character in the direction that Y/N is looking towards, eyes squinting as he leans forward in his seat to try and spot it. 

And then he hears her giggle. 

“Ha! Made you look!” 

He sighs, rolling his eyes half-heartedly as he leans back against his chair. “You’re literally a child.” 

Y/N manages to stop laughing for only a brief second, “I can’t believe you-,” her voice suddenly breaks off with a gasp as she tries to catch her breath. “Fell for it,” she’s barely even able to finish the rest of her sentence, too busy practically cackling.

Kenma finds himself chuckling along with her, even though she’s entirely making fun of him right now. But he doesn’t care, not even a little bit. 

Because for the first time since they’ve met, the interaction feels real. 

~~~

An hour later, Kenma’s stuck in a cave and Y/N is doing who even knows what on the surface, when his roommate walks into the room. 

Y/N is in the middle of telling some elaborate story about the first time she ever played minecraft when Kenma hears his door open. He doesn’t really react at first, only glancing at his viewfinder to confirm that Kuroo’s walking into the room. 

“And then-,” she abruptly stops. “Did I just hear a door open?” 

Kenma would have thought that his microphone (or even discord for that matter) wouldn’t be able to pick up such a soft noise. He’s been proven wrong a lot today though. 

“Yeah sorry,” he confirms as he turns to actually look at the person now entering the room. “It’s my roommate, just give me one second.” Kenma mutes himself in discord but keeps his stream’s audio on, trying not to censor Kuroo as much as he wants to. He then just decides to leave the world, knowing there’s really no way to pause an online game. 

“You? Apologizing? Since when,” the older man snorts. 

Kenma closes his eyes with a sigh, “Shut the fuck up.” 

“That was unnecessarily harsh.” 

The streamer adjusts in his seat, turning in his chair to face his roommate. “I’m still streaming, what do you want?” 

His best friend frowns, “I’m bored and being swarmed by cats out there.” 

“Did you get in the catnip again?” He briefly gets distracted by the sound of Y/N saying something in his headset, but isn’t able to understand anything she’s actually saying because Kuroo is speaking at the exact same time.

“It was only like this much!” He makes a small gesture with his fingers to further prove his point. 

Kenma stares at the distance between his pointer finger and thumb for an unnervingly long amount of time. “Only that much huh?” 

Kuroo suddenly hides his hand behind his back, “Hey don’t look at my fingers like that, you perv.” 

“It’s not my fault you just happened to measure the exact length of your di-.” 

“AHHH!” 

Kenma flinches as he’s cut off by a blood curdling scream, his pulse skyrocketing as he frantically turns back to the game. 

He somehow manages to unmute himself, his fingers clumsily controlling the mouse to log back into the world. “Holy shit are you okay?” 

“Fuck- yeah sorry!” Y/N is still being loud but it’s nothing compared to the way she’d yelled only a second ago. “Jesus, I’m so sorry; that scared me so bad.” 

Kenma feels himself relax against his chair, mentally sighing as he glances back at Kuroo with a clear expression of relief. “She’s good?” 

“Yeah,” he nods, swallowing unsteadily. “Fuck, did you hear her?” 

“Are you kidding? I think the whole street heard her,” he jokes and Kenma can’t help but smile. Leave it to his best friend to be able to relieve such a massive amount of tension with one simple sentence. 

“Your roommate heard me?” Her voice practically exudes embarrassment. 

He chuckles, “Yeah, I think you both gave us a heart attack.” 

“Oh no,” she groans. “I’m seriously so sorry.” 

“What even happened?” (Translation: what the fuck made you react like that?)

“I was just focused on building a house and then a bird or something - I don’t even know what it was  - slammed against my window.” She pauses and Kenma can hear her release a deep breath. “It scared the absolute shit out of me.”

“Okay I guess that’s fair.” He feels something tap against his shoulder and turns to look at Kuroo’s questioning expression. “A bird hit her window,” Kenma elaborates for him. 

His roommate suddenly laughs, “I think chat was more worried than we are.”

Oh noooooo

Poor Y/N 😥

She needs therapy after that 💀

“They like her more than both of us combined,” Kenma confirms. 

Y/N makes a disapproving noise, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” 

“Here wait,” Kenma says to pretty much no one as he grabs his headphone splitter and the second headset he always has on hand. After plugging everything in, he adjusts his microphone and wheels in another chair so that both men will be able to talk to her. “Okay, my roommate can hear you now by the way, Y/N.” 

“Oh. Hi there roommate!” 

Kenma frowns as he turns back around in game to start heading for the surface, “Why didn’t you sound that chipper earlier?” 

Y/N doesn’t get a chance to respond before Kuroo does for her. “Because I’m better than you.” 

Complete silence. 

“You’re not even going to try to deny it huh?” He shakes his head, still trying to find his way through the maze of a cave he’d somehow managed to trap himself in. 

“I don’t know; I’d feel mean if I did,” she responds without an ounce of hesitation. 

“Yeah why are you forcing her to do stuff, Kenma,” Kuroo suddenly chimes in with a teasing tone. 

“Fuck you Kuro. No one asked you.” 

Kuroo reels back in his chair, as though Kenma had physically slapped him in the face. “Um wow okay. I can really feel the lo-.” 

“Finally,” Kenma (accidentally) interrupts as he sees sunlight shining down into the cave. “I’m coming up by the way.” 

“Wait, already?” Y/N sounds strangely panicked. 

Kenma nods slowly even though she can’t see him. “Why,” he can’t help but feel suspicious now after her reaction. 

“I haven’t finished building yet.” 

He begins towering his way out of the hole, “I’m sure it’s not that ba-.” He suddenly stops as he sees a building in the distance. 

“I’m sorry, you said you aren’t done?” His roommate says beside him, basically voicing Kenma's exact thoughts as he sprints towards the house. 

“What the actual fuck this is amazing.” Kenma marvels as he opens what he can only assume is the front door. “How did you do this in two hours?” 

Her character suddenly runs over, crouching in front of him and dropping something on the ground. “I might not be super amazing at PVP, but I’ve been building since I was in elementary school.” Kenma scoots forward to pick up the item, his eyebrows furrowing when he realizes it’s a bed. 

“What’s this for?” 

“I wasn’t sure which room you’d want so I just decided I’d let you pick,” she explains. 

Kuroo nudges Kenma's shoulder with his own, “That was really nice of her. Right kenma?” 

But he's strangely at a loss for words because he just can’t get over the fact that, “She made it red.” His head tilts, “Why’d you make it red?”

“Oh,” she seems surprised by the question. “I don’t really know. I just thought it suited you, I guess.” 

“Hm,” he hums in acknowledgement, making his way over to the first room he sees and placing it beside the purple bed already placed against the wall. “Why don’t we just have the same bedroom?” 

“Ooohh,” Kuroo drags out. (Kenma had completely forgotten he was there.) “Putting your bed next to her’s huh?” 

Apparently they both decide that it’s better to ignore him this time because all Y/N says is, “Why would we share a bedroom?” 

Kenma blinks, he thought the reason was obvious. “So then we have more room for other stuff in the house instead of constantly needing to build for more space.” 

“Oh. Okay yeah that makes sense.” 

His best friend suddenly reaches over to press his mute key for discord, “Kenma’s got moves guys.” 

“Shut up.” 

~~~

Kenma enjoys streaming with her that night. He really, really does. 

But again, he’s doing this out of guilt. 

Or at least that’s what he tells himself when he ends up messaging her again that very next day.

Taglist: @crazy-people-are-here, @existential-traveller, @peachesncats, @royalz658, @musicluverr

Any names in bold are unable to be tagged.

[saiintvalentiine]

Omg I love your additions!!!! Also the mixing of Lifesteal and UU?? Infinite possibilities have been added…

To add on for Wemmbu: I actually don’t think he would be too upset about having a favorite bakery, he would complain a bunch however because he loves to be annoying. I feel like the first time Wato and Wemmbu are in at the same time, Wemmbu gets bullied while Wato (and Wifies) are wondering how this guy is still aliv- PLEASE STOP BREAKING THINGS WEMMBU. He’d come alone after awhile looking super tired and messed up, faceplant on the counter and order. Wato would come in after wemmbu has been face down on the counter for ten minutes, when Wifies poked him he just grumbled and whined in despair, and Wato would prop him up then Wifies would get to listen to them complain for fifteen whole minutes before they drag themselves out of the bakery.

Clownpierce and Branzy would be very rare costumers who only come in together. Branzy gushes about the baked goods while Clown holds his hand and stand ominously in the background, a bit of blood still dripping off him. Branzy and Wifies would get along great but not for long periods of time because clown gets increasingly threatening the longer Branzy doesn’t give him his full attention.

Rekrap would come in with Parrot, theyd both be covered in small bruises and cuts but surprisingly normal compared to Wifies’s other guests. Wifies and rek would have a long convo about escaping traps and puzzles before rek gets too paranoid over being in one spot for too long and run out.

Jumper, Leo, Derap, and Woogie (I think I’m remembering the whole kill clownpierce group) would come in, and try to hang anti-clownpierce signs on the walls before Wifies stops them. He refuses when Leo offers to pay him extreme amounts of money to let them be hanged up. They’d mess around a little, order a truly extraordinarily expensive amount of pastries, then all get a message at the same time and sprint out. Leo would throw so much money of the counter before leaving and not even look at what the real cost was.

And it’s best not to talk about the time Parrot brought Dean with him to the bakery….

Wifies gets a giggle out of Wato becoming Wemmbu's keeper half the time. He's not sure what, exactly, Wemmbu's getting up to, but he's happy to keep Wemmbu's forehead on his counter as long as Wato can come pick him up.

Branzy likes to come by and sketch traps on Wifies's napkins. Wifies explains all the ways he can imagine someone getting out of those traps and how to counteract that. Clown tolerates it because Wifies's advice has helped Branzy keep his hearts a little better, though Clown does like reaping them for him still. Wifies makes Clown something with the really good, high quality chocolate and Clown does forgive him for robbing Branzy's attention. Well. Forgives him enough.

Wifies gets along like a house on fire with Rek because he understands the anxiety. Parrot is very jealous that they click so quickly.

Every time a new Lifesteal menace tries to change or damage something in his bakery, Wifies does a blanket "no lifestealers" ban for at least two weeks. He does NOT discriminate. Parrot, Branzy, Rek, everyone gets banned. It's meant to incentivize them into behaving better as a group but it starts a lot of squabbles on the server. An easy 50% of the time, it's Spoke's fault somehow. Wato and Ken end up becoming defacto food runners during these times and they extort money out of certain lifestealers b/c they're opportunists.

Dean does something extraordinarily stupid and the trident makes an appearance once again. Wifies will kill him if he tries to come to the bakery unsupervised.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for demanding my dad change his passwords?

I (20M) came out as a transgender man four years ago to my family including my dad (now 57M). At the time, he was very verbally (key word there) supportive, and even though he and the rest of my family still have failings with gendering me correctly four years later despite… everything, they don’t use my dead name out of… what I assume to be respect but likely isn’t. Begrudging awareness they’d be berated by any rational family members, more likely. My dead name was his grandmother’s name, so I respect the name— it’s just not MINE.

My dad has family accounts for all of the streaming services we use, and then for our wifi, etcetera— fairly normal, right? But his passwords are all some variation of his children’s names! Except mine is my dead name. (Example: [Child1Child2Deadname] with, of course, added on numbers and the like to make it more secure.) I spoke to him about it a long time ago, when I’d just come out, and he refused to change it. I then found out that his Peloton username was [Deadname]Dad, which, while sweet, is also unbearably uncomfortable to me. Every time I go back home to visit, I have to type in a password that features all of my father’s children— and then the young girl I am not anymore and very likely never was. I’ve been considering speaking to him again on the subject, since he seems to be taking my transness more seriously now— before, he was clearly under the impression it was a phase.

It feels like he thinks I’m dead and he’s honoring me. But I’m right here. So would I be the asshole if I demanded he remove my deadname from his passwords and usernames as an homage to who I used to be?

What are these acronyms?

[yunoftheclouds]

with the end of round 1, im curious to know more about cirrus' opinion on azure! did they have any opinions on him during the anakt period? maybe afterthoughts during the round?

My WiFi. Deleted my draft again so I need to rewrite this AGH it’s a lot I’m sorry

Cirrus was probably rather fond of Azure because he’s a unique and frankly quite interesting individual. Cirrus’ knowledge on people stems entirely based on storybooks (despite having real world interactions) so they’re not good at approaching people or anything t that has to do with social situations.

I think that during ANAKT they would follow Azure around from time to time to try and learn more about him since he doesn’t seem the type to be very open about himself. They don’t realise this is weird.

They’re also fond of symbolism so they’d think of him whenever they look at a blue sky (or the sky in general, but especially blue ones). That’s just something that clicked in their head and they can’t seem to get rid of it (not like they’ve tried).

They’re a lot like Ivan in that way, I think. Cirrus probably had a lot of anxiety over ROUND 1 because they realised they would be separated in the end, and they didn’t like that. Even if they weren’t close with him beforehand, they’d have this urge to try and hold his hand and tell him everything would be okay, even though they both knew it was a lie.

Afterwards they’d probably be a little quieter and would stare off at the sky more often, just hoping he’s alright, wherever he is.

They’re silly, I like them, and I think they should be friends (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

[gear-project]

No te mentiré, si quisiera que hicieramos otra una prueba de conexion en la versión de switch. El problema es que si bien aun tengo varios meses del NSO, aún me falta comprar el juego y un adaptador LAN, porque no pienso usar wifi 😂😂😂☠️😂😂☠️

I’m told the Switch version of Strive is slightly more optimized compared to the PlayStation 4 version, but since I don’t have much plans to get a Nintendo Switch, I doubt I’ll ever know for sure.

Optimally, I would appreciate a version of Strive where Survival Mode has zero load times between fights, but even Xrd struggles to load assets, so what can you do?

As for Ethernet versus WiFi, even Ethernet can be unreliable at times, so I don’t judge WiFi Warriors in online netplay unless their ping makes them teleport (and teleportation ISN’T part of their movelist!)

Honestly, the people who say Rollback is better than Delay-based Netcode just haven’t experienced a decent Delay match. Delay matches feel much more stable than Rollback.

I say so, because in Rollback is the only situation where I had a Gold Psyche Burst get turned in to a Blue Burst, and the time that happened really made me upset!

At any rate, I’m glad to see people enjoying Strive on Switch, now if only they’d make a perfect port of Guilty Gear X Plus 1.5 or something.

On a related note, Nintendo is a decidedly strange name for a game company, I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand, unless a Japanese Developer explains it to me. Family Computer Famicom I get, but what does Nintendo even MEAN AS A WORD???

[physalian]

Pretty sure I’m a baby aro, running out of excuses to deny it anymore. Now I didn’t go through any internalized homophobia that you might have if you realize you’re gay or a lesbian, I knew if I came out to my parents they’d be fine (I just don’t want the attention and the questions). Aceness came easy to me, can’t think of any one epiphany moment or if it happened, it wasn’t a monumental one. Just, oh, yeah, that makes sense.

Aromaticism(?), though, that one’s harder to accept. I know I’m not the only one going/gone through this. It’s just a very lonely state of being, in a society where there are very thick bold lines between what you’re allowed to do with friends before it gets “weird” and messy (and why I fight so hard to write and love characters who ignore those lines but still stay just friends).

I haven’t been anyone’s priority one probably since I stopped being an only child when I was five. I don’t want romance, necessarily, but the only way you get to be the most important person in someone’s life is if you’re their lover.

I don’t need all the accoutrements of romance. But to have somebody who actually wants to do stuff together instead of making up excuses would be nice. Somebody who’s as invested in however we define our relationship as I am. Someone who texts first as often as I do. Someone with whom I never have to think “they’re just putting up with me”. Somebody who notices the little things, as I do for them. They don’t even have to be physically around all the time (in fact I prefer them not to be, I need my space).

It probably doesn’t help that my short list of friends has people only there because officially ending it would be too much work. The kind of people who won’t talk to me at all for months unless I reach out first. (When you work from home and everybody your age that you attempt to make friends with are either immature, or into things you hate like drinking, drugs, and clubs, making friends as an adult sucks.)

I’ve been in relationships out of guilt and expectations, short and miserable, but my second-to-last one, with a love-bomber who wouldn’t take no for an answer all the way to the bedroom… I didn’t like them, but I liked the attention. Got the fuck out of there right quick once I realized all I wanted was attention and not *their* attention.

But being aroace, when you don’t have anyone else to give you attention, is not a fun place to be. I don’t generally sit around whining about loneliness, but it hits every now and then. I can daydream about romance with the best of them (and I think I can write it well enough), but the person I’m imagining never has a face, or much of a body, they’re just a blob. And then reality hits and it’s like “oh this is the cost of romance? This is exhausting. You’re exhausting. I’m sick of being the one who has her shit together out of the two of us. Goodbye.”

I guess when you grow up surrounded by stellar examples of failed marriages and relationships and whiny pre-teens (and grown-ass adults, let’s be real) losing their shit over so-and-so not liking their Insta pic, romance sounds tedious as fuck.

Like, I can't not picture any would-be lover as a deadbeat with horrible parents I'd have to tolerate and some complex they think I can romance away and some hobby I can't stand. It's all I see in the people around me, "ugh I hate them, but I can't not love them". All I see is people I care about getting with the same shitty type of person because they're also lonely, but unlike me, they crave romance and sex and put up with shit so they can have those things. I'd have to put up with sex and romance for attention, and I'm not doing that.

My imaginary blob person doesn’t have a face, but the “sexiest” trait I can think of is just. Competence. Which is depressingly hard to find in other people my age.

Get me a somebody who does the dishes without being asked and who has savings and a career, not just a job, and knows how to do their taxes and can set up the WiFi without throwing a tantrum and is actually working toward their dreams and aspirations and can have adult conversations and doesn’t play stupid mind games and maybe we’ll strike the “aro” out of aroace.

Until then, hello everybody I’m new. Where do I put my stuff?

[meowmeowriley]

Hi costume anon here! I love goth Soap and tech Gaz so much!!!!!!!

Do I have ideas about the effects of repeated and long term exposure to ghostly energy?why yes, yes I do >:3c

Okay Ghost isn’t a full Ghost (ha!) which means he operates on a plain/wavelength (or what have you) closer to humans then a regular goulie would, close enough that a little bit of the extra energy the run off starts to affect the mortals around him… (you can use this for horror or comedy depending on how far you want to take it (I don’t think it would lead to death though))

At first there’s a bit of lethargy and a feeling of lingering cold slight numbness and or tingling on fingers and toes easily ignore or brushed off

Insomnia would hit after that and if they were early birds they’d slowly become night owls but again given what the guys have been through they don’t think much about it

It isn’t until they get sick and they start leaking a little ecto that things start dawning on them (queue the angst (Ghost sulks and tries to avoid them ( this does not work)))

After a while their colds (he he) settle down but if they remain paler then before and their canines are a little sharper, they can see a little better in the darkness and have a feeling of general otherness about them who’s to say?

Itty-bitty baby cores they can’t replenish on their own so when soap gets angry people get static shocks if they touch him and it’s a little easer for Gaz to hack tech when he can speak tech. I’d also wager they’d build a tolerance to Ghost abilities so the ghostly wail and cold glare wouldn’t effect them much maybe they could even sense him.

The speed with which the changes happen would be determined by length and rate of exposure

I hope this isn’t to much rambling my autistic arse would not stop thinking about this even when I had things to do today lol

I hope you have a great day!

RAAAAAAHHHHH YOU'VE SOLD ME ON IT

Nobody would notice them being tired or testy, because they're in the military, everyone's tired and testy. They have caffeine addictions, but so does every soldier. They bark orders at recruits, but come onnnn they're sergeants. It's literally their job to be tough on lower ranks.

Ghost would sulk thinking he's hurting his friends, meanwhile-

Gaz: "who needs wifi when you ARE the wifi?!" Happily tip-tapping away on a laptop that absolutely should not be getting signal where they are, and yet he's getting better signal and faster internet than anyone else does on fucking base. Suddenly he's got controll of all the electronics the enemies have. Drones self destruct, turrets open fire, every door simultaneously locks, trapping men. The enemy base is in chaos.

Soap: "AHAHAHAHAHA! Zippity zap, pippity pop! And yer transformers all go BOOM!!!" His eyes shine brightly and electricity crackles and dances through his mohawk. Distant explosions as the every transformer and junction box gets overloaded simultaneously. There's fire everywhere.

Through their constant proximity to Ghost, and constant use of their powers, it doesn't take long for them to both become powerhouses in their own right.

Tbh, I fucking love electricity powers for Soap. I know we all headcanon him as a pyro, a firy little demon man, but I really think electricity suits him. Ever seen an outlet shoot sparks? They're blue! Not all the time, but still. Blue's always been his color, to me at least. Ever seen a transformer exploded? Big ol' fireball. And he'd cause constant electrical fires if he could.

Anyhow! Fuck I love this AU 🥰 And you! You're brilliant!

[gurokichi]

i mean, i don't think they really care? like, it's MY writing. not theirs. also i doubt they even know what ao3 is because they haven't blocked it off the school wifi yet (which i am abusing to no end)

Mmm, yeah, but I always remember not being allowed to reuse or show others stuff that we answered in some of our really important tests. They’d make us shred our paper essay drafts afterwards so we couldn’t take them out of the testing room, lmao. I don’t think I ever saw my digital essay submissions again either. Which is why I’m a bit surprised you get it back and also have no fear about posting it on ao3

[nohrslittleflower]

magic hc ramblings this is what happens when my service provider decides to kill my wifi/cellular connection right as I was about to do my drafts

So every time I have to write some sort of magic for Elise— usually healing (which happens a lot since she’s. A healer unit. So.)— I default to just saying she uses her staff to do it because that’s just how it works in Fates. But when someone in Three Houses used healing magic, their animations don’t have any sort of staff, just waving their hands around and also flying sometimes(???). Which then got me thinking about how magic might work for Elise with her still using her staff even while in Fodlan and well here we are.

So if I remember correctly from I don’t remember where (no internet access my beloathed), I believe reason magic is supposed to be some sort of math, while faith magic is based on belief. I have no idea what dark magic is but that’s irrelevant to me right now so who cares. This makes sense in the academy setting of Three Houses, because obviously you’re going to be learning math in school. And Garreg Mach is obviously a religious school given its at a monastery and there’s literally a giant cathedral right there occupied by the main church branch.

I don’t know a lot about that sort of schooling personally, but judging by the experiences I’ve heard from someone I know who went to a very intensely religious school, learning about the religion was like 90% of what they did so that also lines up. Along with that, they had ‘days off’ from school so they could go to church (even though the school itself was a church so they basically just went to church anyway), which to me sounds just like what seems to be happening on certain calendar days in Three Houses.

So reason magic being math and faith magic being like Bible study or whatever seems to line up curriculum-wise, so I assume that has to be right. And if that’s right, magic can’t vary too much between games, especially from Fates since Fates is basically the newest game before Three Houses (not counting Shadows of Valentia). So Fateslandia general magic (magic scrolls/books) must be a sort of math as well, and faith should be connected to belief as well.

I’m assuming the reason nobody uses tombs in Fodlan would just be because they’ve memorized all the equations, while in other games they’d carry around their books as reference. Like a closed book vs open book test, but every day and also if you get a question wrong you die or something.

But like what even is a staff. How does it run out it’s a stick. In fates you had to equip different staves to do different things, but in Three Houses they’re held items that boost magic stats. Staffs in Nohr are especially weird name-wise, where Hoshido has names for them like ‘Sun Festal’ or ‘Bloom Festal’ (lot of ‘festals’). Then Nohr is just. ‘Heal’. ‘Mend’. ‘Psychic’. This leads me to believe that Hoshidan staves are more sacred and connected to their faith in their religions, while Nohrian staves are more mass-produced as a means to an end. Which sounds pretty Nohr honestly and probably explains why they’d run out after a while— they’re likely pre-charged with magic, and not something the user manifests themselves in most cases. I don’t know what’s up with Hoshido but I’m a Nohr mun I don’t need to know I’m not touching that

Though in Elise’s case, her staff in Heroes and Fates is called ‘Elise’s Staff’ and doesn’t break/run out (as far as I remember but I still can’t check), so it’s definitely not some mass-produced staff. Instead, it’s probably more like a Fodlan staff made especially for her, meaning that it amplifies the magic that is coming from her. This would also explain why it’s weaker than something like psychic (which it basically operates the same as), which was probably created and given it’s magic by someone extremely proficient in magic, compared to Elise who’s still learning.

Lastly, I don’t actually think her faith magic comes from any faith in the goddess (obviously, she doesn’t know who that is), or any divine dragon. Even though that seems to be the main connection between what makes someone good or bad at it in Three Houses (those who deeply believing in the goddess having a faith boon, and those who openly reject her having a faith bane), it doesn’t seem like that’s the only way faith magic can happen. When Dorothea (I think) asks to switch to learning faith despite being bad at it, she says something like “I don’t believe in the goddess, but I believe in you”. Which implies faith magic actually comes from a general belief in something, not just religious.

This would mean Elise gets her healing magic from believing in people and while that’s not really important or relevant it’s really cute Elise I love you so much