#Visibility drop due to fog

[umangharyana]

Haryana fog update : हरियाणा में सर्दी का सितम, घना कोहरा और तापमान में गिरावट का अलर्ट

हरियाणा में सर्दियों का आगमन होते ही कोहरे ने अपने असर दिखाना शुरू कर दिया है। मौसम विभाग ने आज, सोमवार, 26 नवंबर को एक महत्वपूर्ण अपडेट जारी किया है जिसमें कहा गया है कि पंजाब, हरियाणा, हिमाचल प्रदेश, दिल्ली, उत्तर प्रदेश और बिहार में घना कोहरा छाया रहेगा। खासतौर पर बिहार के पुर्णिया में विजिबिलिटी घटकर महज 100 मीटर तक रह गई है। हरियाणा के कई जिलों में कोहरे का असर हरियाणा में सोमवार की सुबह…

[hearts4hughes]

DUE DILIGENCE ~ CHAPTER EIGHT

wallstreet!rafe x assistant!reader | warnings: some inaccuracy (fbi caller id), graphic depiction of murder (via security footage), emotional distress / panic attack, vomiting, obsessive relationship dynamics, morally gray decision-making / complicity in crime, implied psychological trauma, murder, breaking and entering, stalking

at first, the footage doesn’t show much. just grainy parking garage stillness. a concrete mausoleum. the timestamp glitches in the corner. then there’s movement. the elevator doors yawn open and connor steps out, earbuds in, backpack slung. he moves like he always did—half-distracted, underdressed, unaware of what’s coming. the camera stutters as he crosses the frame.

a car waits, already parked. matte black with tinted windows. the familiar vehicle doesn’t move, doesn’t flash its lights. it waits. then the back door opens and he’s thrown into the car. you can’t see much at first—just flickers of motion through the fogged glass, shadows wrestling in silence. the camera angle doesn’t catch faces, only outlines. a blur of movement. a body slams sideways against the seat. then stillness.

for a second, you think it’s over. then it starts again, and it’s sharper this time. it’s all sudden jolts and fast movements. a head snapping forward. a knee jerking up into someone’s ribs. your stomach drops. you know that shape. that precision. rafe doesn’t just beat him—he takes his time. efficient, deliberate—the kind of violence that isn’t chaotic, but clinical.

you press pause because you know what happens next. you know what’s already happened. the image freezes on a body slumped against the car door. no blood visible from this angle, but you feel it anyway. like it’s under your nails and on your skin. you close the laptop with shaking hands. but the image doesn’t leave. the screen burns into your brain. you knew. you knew. but seeing it…it’s different.

a cold sweat crawls down your back. you eject the drive with shaking hands, yank it from the port, drop it like it burned you. it clatters to the floor. you back away like it might explode.

you move fast. the flash drive goes in the garbage disposal. the laptop is off, battery yanked. you grab the external hard drive you’ve been using for backup and smash it once, twice, three times against the kitchen counter until plastic cracks and pieces scatter.

you don’t stop until your legs give out. you throw up in the sink, you shake, and you cry. you stare at your reflection in the oven door and see someone you don’t recognize. mascara smeared. lip trembling. half in love, half in hell.

your fingers fumble for your phone. you don’t remember dialing. you don’t remember breathing. it’s just ringing. “hello?” his voice slices clean through you.

“rafe,” you choke out. it’s not even a sentence. just his name, wet and broken.

a beat of silence on his end. “what happened?” concern drips from his voice.

your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. you’re standing in the middle of your kitchen with vomit in the sink and plastic shards at your feet. your lungs squeeze. your throat closes. “i—i saw it.”

“what?” his voice drops. now he’s more awake than anyone should be at this hour. “what did you see?”

you press your palm to your stomach like you can hold it all in. like you can keep yourself from unraveling. “it was a flash drive,” you whisper. “the parking garage. connor was,” you can’t even finish your sentence. “i—i saw you.”

another silence. this one worse. “jesus christ,” he mutters. not angry. not even shocked. just…broken.

your hand grips the counter. you squeeze your eyes shut, like maybe that’ll rewind it, unsee it, undo it. “i destroyed it,” you say quickly, like that matters. like it fixes anything. “i destroyed everything. i just—i couldn’t-”

“baby.” the word catches on his tongue. soft. like he’s afraid to use it but more afraid not to. “breathe.”you do. it’s a gasp that hurts more than it helps. your body trembles. “you shouldn’t have seen that,” he says. “fuck. you weren’t supposed to-”

“i know what you did,” you whisper, like saying it louder might break something between you. “and i still-” your voice cracks. “i don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“nothing,” he says. fast, fierce. “nothing is wrong with you. do you hear me?”

you nod even though he can’t see you. the line feels too thin, too fragile. “i’m scared,” you admit. it’s the first time you’ve said it out loud. your voice is paper-thin. “i don’t know what to do. i can’t stop shaking.”

he exhales into the phone. it sounds like he’s pacing. like he’s trying not to put a fist through something. “i’m coming over.”

“rafe-”

“don’t argue with me,” he says, quieter now. lower. not commanding but pleading. “just keep the door unlocked. keep your phone on. keep breathing.” your throat burns. your knees threaten to give again. “i’ll be there in ten,” he says, like a promise. like a threat to the rest of the world. “don’t hang up.”

so you don’t. you sit down on the kitchen floor with mascara on your cheeks and blood on your conscience, and you wait for the man who killed for you. the man you’re still going to let in.

the knock comes before the door even clicks open. just one, firm and low. he doesn’t want to scare you. he’s asking permission even though he could rip the damn thing off its hinges if he needed to. you stand—slowly. everything in your body feels like it’s filled with glass. not broken, just waiting to be.

you open the door. rafe’s in a black hoodie and sweats. no coat, no umbrella. his hair’s damp from the rain, curls sticking to his forehead. but his eyes, they search you like he’s counting bones. he needs to make sure you’re still real or he’ll break.

“you okay?” he asks.

you shake your head and that’s all he needs to moves. there’s no hesitation, he just crosses the threshold and folds you into his chest like he’s been dying to. your body crumples against his on instinct. the tremble in your limbs has nothing to do with the temperature.

he doesn’t shush you. doesn’t offer you a lie. he just holds you. it’s not the possessive kind, not the way he grabs your hips when he’s kissing you or the back of your neck when he’s pissed. this is different. this is the kind of hold that says i’m sorry. i’m still here. i’d undo it if i could.

you sob into his shirt. your fists curl against his chest like you might try to hit him, then loosen like you’re too tired to try. mascara smears into cotton. your knees wobble again. he catches you before you fall. “hey,” he murmurs, guiding you down to the couch, keeping you flush to him the whole way. “i’ve got you.”

you curl into him, tears staining his hoodie. and for a long, quiet stretch, he just breathes with you. his hand rubs slow circles into your back. his lips brush the crown of your head repeatedly. eventually, your cries fade into something softer. you’re not better—not even close—but you’re breathing. the pieces have stopped shaking long enough to settle.

“i didn’t want this for you,” rafe says finally. voice rough. “any of it.” you nod into his chest. his hand strokes your hair. “i didn’t know what else to do,” he adds, quieter. “he made you look weak, and you’re not.”

your fingers tighten around his hoodie. “it wasn’t about me,” you whisper, silent tears slipping down your cheeks.

“everything is about you.” the words fall out of him like gravity pulled them. no heat, no drama—just truth. it’s always been that way.

you pull back, just far enough to see his face. his hands cradle your jaw, careful like you’re glass now, too. you watch him scan your features like he’s memorizing them all over again. not lust or rage, just awe.

he leans in. it’s slow because if he moves too fast, he’s afraid you’ll vanish. his lips brush yours. it’s a warm embrace. a promise without the ring. a confession without the words. you kiss him back. it’s not hungry. not frantic. it’s just two people on the edge of something massive, trying not to fall unless they’re falling together. when he pulls away, he keeps his forehead pressed to yours. “you need to eat,” he says, barely audible. you nod, too dazed to argue. he brushes a thumb under your eye, catching the last streak of mascara. “i’ll be back in twenty.”

“rafe-” you whisper, fingers catching his sleeve. “you’ll come back?”

his eyes flick down to your hand, then up. “always.” he doesn’t ask for forgiveness and you don’t offer it.

you don’t move for a long time. the couch still holds his warmth. his scent lingers in the air. his scent used to be foreign. something you’d smell but not know who it belonged to. now it’s home.

you tell yourself to get up. wipe your face. wash the blood off your hands, metaphorical or not. but your limbs feel heavy, boneless. you curl in on yourself and burn holes into the wall.

time melts. it’s been ten minutes, maybe thirty. the rain picks up again outside, ticking softly against your windows. you used to like the rain. that’s another thing new york ruined for you.

suddenly, a sound. your front door creaks open. you blink, dazed, your body tensing before your mind catches up. you exhale too soon, too fast. “rafe?” your voice is hoarse, but steady.

no answer.

the door shuts again. those don’t sound like his footsteps. your breath catches. you rise to your feet, barefoot on the hardwood, every nerve lighting up like a match. “rafe?” you try again, voice pulled taut like piano wire. but it’s not him. he steps into view from the kitchen. he’s tall, scrawny, and familiar—but wrong…too wrong.

you know his name. you think his name is ben, or maybe bryan—you’re not sure. you’ve seen him in the bullpen. third desk from the back. junior analyst. the kind of guy who never made eye contact unless he thought you weren’t looking. always wore a wrinkled tie. always lingered just a little too long by the break room when you were pouring your coffee.

you freeze and he smiles. it’s tight, crooked, not kind. “hi,” he says like you’ve just bumped into each other in the elevator. “you left your door unlocked.”

you open your mouth, but the words get caught in your throat. your chest rises rapidly. “i didn’t mean to scare you,” he adds, eyes falling to your barely exposed chest, stepping further inside. “i just,” he chuckles, though it’s not strong. its nervous. “i had to make sure you saw it.”

your stomach drops. the flash drive. “it was you.” your voice is flat. you don’t ask, you already know.

he nods, still smiling like this is some sort of sick meet-cute. he’s planned this. probably thought of this moment in his head a million times. “i’ve been trying to help you.” your feet stay planted. your fingers inch toward your phone on the coffee table. he notices. tilts his head. “don’t.”

you pause. your pulse is a drumline now. “you deserve to know what he really is,” he continues. “everyone’s afraid of him, but not me. i’ve been watching. since your first week.” his voice dips, something reverent and rancid beneath it. “you’re smart. so fucking smart,” he bites his lip and your stomach churns. “but he’s going to ruin you.”

“get out,” you whisper.

his smile falters. just slightly. “he’s manipulated you. he’s not capable of-” he cuts himself off, jaw twitching. “you don’t have to pretend. i know he scared you. i saw your face when you left the office that day. i saw you cry in the hallway. i wanted to say something then.” you flinch. he steps closer. “he doesn’t see you. not really. but i do.”

“you need to leave,” you say again, louder this time, your voice cracking.

he shakes his head, a sick kind of softness in his eyes. “i waited-i waited so long for you to figure it out. to come to me. i didn’t want it to be like this, but you didn’t give me a choice.”

your mouth opens, but the lock turns. the front door swings open again. his hair’s wet from the rain. a paper bag in one hand from the hotdog stand down the street. he freezes in the doorway. his eyes land on you first—wide, white, panicked. then on the man standing too close. his face doesn’t change—not visibly—but the room shifts like gravity broke. “step away from her.” it’s not a request.

the analyst—ben, bryan, whatever—laughs. nervous. “this isn’t what it looks like. i was just-”

“i said,” rafe cuts in, dropping the bag to the floor. “step. away. from her.”

the guy takes a step back. rafe moves in a blur. you don’t even hear the sound of the punch—just the crash of the coffee table as it shatters under the weight of a body. rafe’s on him in seconds. fists, knees, elbows. not like the tape because it’s not clean or calculated. this is rage—this is personal.

your mouth hands agape, but you don’t scream. you don’t make a noise until rafe grabs the broken shard from the glass table. “rafe!” you shriek, but it’s too late. he’s already driven the sharp edge into the man’s throat. blood pools around the wound while tears spill from your eyes. you try to pull him off, but he doesn’t stop. not until the guy is still. his shirt soaked red.

your apartment is silent. blood drips onto the hardwood. you’re shaking. your hands, your lips, your world. rafe looks up at you. he’s breathing hard. jaw clenched. soaked in someone else’s life. but you don’t run. you just back up until your spine hits the kitchen counter and slide down, legs folding under you.

he follows. he sinks to his knees in front of you. doesn’t touch. just watches and waits. you meet his eyes. your voice is barely audible. “i’m not afraid of you.”

your phone rings. screen cracked, light flickering.

FBI

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[sevasey51]

Hello love! Can you do an imagine of Connor’s wife having a super bad episode of POTS and having it lead to a seizure and freaking out Jay. Who was supposed to be watching her because she was feeling off, and Connor and Will had to work an important case?

When Everything Spirals

Summary: Y/N, already feeling off, convinces her husband Connor and brother Will to head to work for an important case, promising Jay she’ll take it easy at home. But her symptoms spiral into a severe POTS episode, triggering convulsive syncope that terrifies Jay. When Sylvie and Violet bring her into Med, she crashes again—twice. The aftermath leaves everyone shaken, especially her protective husband, Connor.

It started off with a heaviness in her limbs and a strange fog behind her eyes. Y/N knew the signs, the dull throb behind her eyes, the way her vision tunneled every time she stood for longer than thirty seconds. Something was off today—but she didn’t want to say anything. Not when Connor and Will were scheduled to assist on a high-risk cardio-thoracic case they’d been planning for weeks.

Jay had already picked up on her sluggishness that morning when he dropped by for coffee. He raised an eyebrow as she curled up on the couch with Charlie nestled by her legs and her water bottle untouched on the table.

“You okay, Bug?” he asked, crossing his arms and watching her closely.

“Just tired,” she whispered, giving him a weak smile. “I promise I’ll chill today.”

Jay reluctantly agreed to keep an eye on her. He’d taken the day off, knowing something was up, even if she hadn’t said it out loud.

But things unraveled fast.

By noon, Y/N tried standing to get a drink and never made it past the hallway. Her heart pounded so hard she could hear it in her ears. The room tilted. Her legs gave out. She crashed to her knees, hands trembling violently.

Jay ran to her the second he heard the thud. He found her slumped against the wall, trying to stay upright, her eyes wide and glossy, skin pale and clammy. She was barely responsive.

“Y/N!” he shouted, catching her just as her body jerked in a seizure-like convulsion. It wasn’t a true seizure—they’d learned that term later—convulsive syncope, a terrifying mix of a fainting episode with seizure-like activity due to her POTS.

Jay panicked. He tried grounding her, checking her airway, cradling her head, calling her name—none of it helped. He immediately dialed 911.

“Please—my sister—she has a heart condition or something—she’s not responding, she’s seizing—I don’t know what’s happening!”

Within minutes, Squad pulled up. Sylvie Brett and Violet rushed into the apartment and found Jay on the floor beside her, visibly shaken.

“She’s got a history of POTS,” he explained hurriedly. “She said she was dizzy earlier and just—collapsed.”

Y/N was pale, still semi-conscious but weak and uncoordinated. They loaded her onto the gurney, fitted her with oxygen, and applied the cardiac monitor.

Her blood pressure was low, heart rate erratic.

“She’s throwing PVCs,” Sylvie muttered, glancing at the screen. “We need to go.”

By the time they reached the ED, Will was already scrubbed out and rushing down with Connor, who hadn’t even waited to hear the full story before tearing off his scrub cap.

The sight of his wife being wheeled in on oxygen with IV lines already running, her limbs twitching subtly from post-syncopal tremors, made Connor’s heart stop.

“She’s had one already,” Violet briefed. “Jay said she seized up and dropped. GCS was fluctuating. We gave fluids, oxygen, and she responded but not well.”

Connor’s hand cupped her face the second they wheeled her into Trauma 2. “Sweetheart, I’m here,” he whispered, brushing her damp hair away from her face.

Will immediately began organizing orders—labs, ECG, CT if needed, even though they suspected it was another severe flare. Connor was more hands-on. He stayed by her side while April hung fluids and ensured the cardiac monitor stayed on.

Jay appeared in the doorway, pale and shaken. “She didn’t make a sound. She just—went down.”

“You did the right thing, Jay,” Will reassured him, voice calm but clipped with worry.

Connor reached across the bed to take her hand, just as her body jerked again—violent, uncoordinated, and terrifying.

“She’s seizing again!” Maggie called, running into the room.

Connor immediately leaned over, securing her airway and shielding her head. “This is convulsive syncope. Keep the airway open. Roll her.”

“Fluids still going?” Will asked quickly.

“Yep,” April confirmed. “She’s crashing—BP’s 80 over 40.”

Connor’s jaw clenched. “Get her on vasopressors. Now.”

They stabilized her after two more episodes. She was confused, exhausted, and unable to sit up without her vitals nosediving.

“We’re admitting her,” Connor said firmly. “And putting her on telemetry overnight.”

“She’s not going to love that,” Will noted, helping adjust the IV line.

“She can be mad all she wants,” Connor replied. “She scared the hell out of me.”

Later, as she dozed under dim lights, Charlie tucked next to her on the bed thanks to a very discreet visit from Jay, Connor stayed seated at her bedside, fingers laced with hers.

“I told you to call me if you didn’t feel right,” he whispered, brushing his thumb across her knuckles. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“I didn’t want to pull you from surgery,” she murmured weakly, barely audible.

“I’d miss every surgery for the rest of my life if it meant keeping you safe.”

And he meant it.

Hey love thank you for request because of it I’m thinking of starting a mini series for it! What do you guys think? 🫶🏻

[jezebelblues]

old records on the shelf | h.s

summary: y/n and harry are holed up in a record store due to inclement weather.

cw: unedited - none (?)

word count: approx 2.5k

super short blurb i wrote during lunch break

masterlist

The rain had been relentless all day. the kind of downpour that turns cities into rivers, umbrellas were useless and the sky never shifts from a slate grey gloom. the storm drains even started to clog ever so slightly, and the ground was just one big shallow puddle. Y/n ducked into the record store just in time as a roar of thunder boomed. Her clothes were damp despite her best efforts, drops of rain still clinging to her sweater and hair. The bell above the door chimed softly as she stepped inside, the warm, dimly lit space a stark contrast to the growing chaos outside.

The store was almost vacant, almost. it was a lofted, building, which allowed her eyes to drift up to a man standing on the second floor with his hoodie pulled over his head, looking at different records front to back. There was also a shorter old man who sat at the front desk, flipping through a quaint book after greeting Y/n with a smile. She hadn’t planned on staying long, but the rain had other ideas. The droplets pelted the glass a bit harder, and if it wasn’t the end of summer she’d assume it was sleet. She maneuvered around the dusty aisles, floorboards creaking with each step as her fingertips feathered across the different records sleeves. She had just moved into a studio after years of saving up for a move to New York, and she desperately wanted all her favorite vinyl albums littered about.

Not finding the genre she wanted labeled on the wooden shelves, she ventured up the spiral stairwell to the second floor, hand barely grasping the handrail. Her sneakers squelched against the metal, a sound she’s grown to hate. Gazing around, her eyes met an oddly familiar seafoam green pair. Their glance was fleeting, but she would recognize this man anywhere. Was she a gigantic fan? No, but she enjoyed his music - and it’s hard to not know who Harry Styles was; given his decade long reign in the spotlight. A baggy grey hoodie hung from his frame, stained with raindrops. his hoodie was pulled up over his head, but he wore a baseball cap underneath - most likely an effort to hide his face, maybe? The tattoo on his knee was visible, and his once pristine white vans were speckled with mud.

She had made a sharp right to the shelves beside her, breaking eye contact first. They were both hiding from the downpour, and she didn’t want to make the atmosphere even more unsettling by gawking. After all, he’s just a human. A low rumble of thunder bellowed, the windows fogging up from the heat inside. Y/n strolled through the aisle, wanting to dry off a bit and make a beeline straight out of the shop. She tried her very best to keep her eyes only on the items around her, but she couldn’t help but sneak a few glances at the brunette. He looked as stranded as she felt, pausing now and then to look out the rain streaked-windows before turning back to the shelves. The soft hum of jazz flowing through the speakers buzzes between the walls, a coziness settling in the air.

Another crack of thunder rattled the windows, and the shopkeeper looked up from his book, frowning at the droplets that pelted down harder. After a beat, he bends the corner of a page and closes the book, clearing his throat. He stepped out from behind the counter, craning his neck upward at the two who stood on the second floor. “Sorry, folks.” He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Closin’ up early. Weathers gettin’ worse, radio said subways flooded - complete mess out there. You can wait he for a while if ya like. Ain’t nobody getting anywhere in that storm.” He informed, his accent thick. “Let me know ‘fore I lock the door.”

Harry’s brow furrowed slightly as his words sunk in, nodding at the old man below them. He shot a slow glance back toward the girl on the other side of the room, trying to decipher if it was a smart decision or not. He looked for any inkling of her being a jittery bundle of nerves, a fan that could make being trapped a bit more claustrophobic. He’d like to think he was good at reading people, and when he found a gaze that seemed as uncertain as he was, he felt his shoulders relax. The city was grinding to a halt outside, and there was no escaping the storm outside. Y/n hesitated before crossing the room, standing next to a window that was closer to Harry than she was. She sighed quietly, her breath fogging the glass.

“Well,” Harry broke the silence, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Seems like we’re stuck.”

She turned her head toward him, managing a small smile. “Guess so.”

He shifted on his feet, glancing back down at the pile of records he’d been browsing. A lopsided grin formed his lips. “Could be worse. Least we got good music to keep us company.”

The shop owner muttered something about going to the back and disappeared, leaving Y/n and Harry by themselves. The jazz played on, mingling with the constant drumming of the rain. The dim lights overhead flickered briefly as the wind stared to pick up. “So,” Y/n paused, hoping conversation could distract her from the mess outside. “Looking for anything specific?” She asked as she took a soft step to continue down the aisle, fingers absentmindedly finding their way back to the spine of the albums.

Harry shrugged, following behind her, mirroring her slow pace. “Jus’ browning, really.” He mumbled, watching her fingers. “Thought I could wait out the rain, suppose not.” He let out a breathy chuckle, which earned a small glance from Y/n. “Are you big on vinyl?”

“A little.” She admitted, sneaking a peek of him through the corner of her eye. “I like coming here to clear my head.”

“Yeah?” His grin widened slightly as he leaned against the shelf behind them. “Sorry for takin’ your spot then.”

The conversation flowed easily after that. They gazed over the rows of shelves together, occasionally pulling out an album and showing their favorite artist. Harry shared small anecdotes about certain records that held sentiment. She would do the same, and she felt surprisingly comfortable in his presence despite the strangeness of their situation.

Harry found himself wandering toward a record player on the first floor toward the back, eyeing the old turntable. “Y’mind?” He asked, nodding toward the table as he held up an album she didn’t immediately recognize. Y/n shook her head, curious to what it sounded like. She watched as he carefully pulled the record from its sleeve, placing it on the turntable, his fingers brushing the edge of it with ease. There was a low crackle as the needle hit the grooves, followed by the smooth voice of Otis Redding.

A familiar melody filled the room while Harry leaned back against the counter, arms folded over his chest as he listened, a smile spread across his lips. “Not bad for a stormy night, eh?”

She laughed, nodding. “Could be worse.” She echoed, repeating his earlier words. The record continued to spin as the mood shifted into something quieter, Harry humming a line here and there. His voice was honey. They stood side by side, an unspoken understanding settling between them as they soaked in the moment.

Their hips would occasionally bump into each other if a beat of the song was repetitive enough, and goofy smiled pasted itself on both their lips each time. It felt easy, like the sun shone in the record store alone. “S’like time slowed down.” Harry mumbles, his voice smooth and quiet - almost harmonizing with the music.

She turned to look at him, eyebrows raising slighting in agreement. She hummed, nodding her head before gently bumping her hip into his again - which earned a smile from Harry. “City won’t let you catch your breath unless it forces you to.”

He laughed under his breath, absentmindedly fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie. “Y’right. S’like everything moves so fast, but when it stops…” He paused, gesturing around them. “It’s kind of nice.”

Y/n’s gaze lingered on him for a moment. There was something calming about his presence, an easy charm that floated around him like an aura. They were just two strangers, trapped by circumstance.

The shop owner shuffled back in, glancing at the two of them before nodding in approval to the music playing. He didn’t say much - just grunted and went back to his book, leaving them to stay in their bubble a bit longer.

The fourth song on the album stated to fade into its end, and the girl tilted her head toward the records they browsed earlier. “What else have you got?” She asked playfully, her gaze gentle.

He grinned, eyes twinkling. “Plenty.” He paused, rummaging through the nearby stack, fingers moving swiftly as he flipped through the albums. He chuckled to himself as he pulled out a pink cover, Harry’s back front and center on it as he flipped it over to show her. His smile was contagious as he held up his first album next to his head, simple poking through. “Thoughts?”

She couldn’t help but mirror his smile, recognizing the cover as his own. She feigned a confused look, eyebrows furrowed as she sent him a shrug. “Heard of him.”

He laughed, shaking his head and putting the album back down with the rest. “Looks like a wanker.” He smiled, accent thicker than before. He finally settled on Stevie Knicks, letting the needle settle over it and crackle into a song. The notes were soft, her rasp entrancing. “Dance with me?” His voice resembled cotton candy, an edge of anxiety to it.

She raised her eyebrows, smiling at him. “Do you even know my name?”

His lips press into a flat line as he pulled his hood down, adjusting the ballcap that sat on his curls. His cheeks flushed a shade of pink as he smiled, “Tell me your name.”

“Y/n”

The brunette rolled his sleeves up ever so slightly, stepping aside and extending his hand out to her. “Dance with me, Y/n.” Her name rolled effortlessly off his tongue, and a part of him hoped it wouldn’t be the last time he could say it. Her face scrunches, a mix of confusion and amusement as she places her hand into his much larger one. His movements are slow and calculated, pulling her close but not too close, swaying with the melancholic rhythm. She exhaled, soft and gentle, the tips of her shoes touching Harry’s as she inched closer. He smelt of lavender, and the rain on his hoodie only made the scent of laundry detergent radiate from him. It was quiet, comfortable and Harry swore he hadn’t felt so transfixed on someone so quick before.

“You ever get tired of it?” She thought out loud, leaning her head back a bit to fall into his gaze. It was delicate, and his features fluttered into an expression to urge her to continue. A stubble peppered the top of his lip, a crease in his forehead and a lock of hair dangling from the corner of his cap. He could be cut and molded from marble. “Of the attention, I mean.”

Harry blinked, his movements stalling as he thought about her question. He lowered his hand to her waist - barely. His touch was a whisper, fingertips only grazing the fabric of her sweater, his palm hovering over the curve of her hip. “It can be overwhelming.” He whispered, his breath a cold peppermint. He bit the inside of his lip as his eyes narrowed, taking in every line and angle of her pretty face. “But it’s worth it. ‘specially in-between the spotlight where I can enjoy moments like these.”

Y/n nodded, understanding the measure of his words. She parted her lips to speak, but Harry let out a small giggle, “The calm between the storms.”

She laughed, and Harry could hear her sincerity even though it was a bad joke altogether, but maybe that was the humor she found in it. Her fingers wriggled in his light grasp, brushing her hands up his arms to lazily wrap behind his neck. Goosebumps appeared on his skin, and he internally cursed at whatever God there was for letting the rain ease up. It faded into a drizzle, and the darkened sky started to lighten into a grey. A pang of disappointment hit them both as they realized the storm couldn’t last forever, and their bubble was meant to burst eventually. She slowly pealed herself from him, a sheepish grin on her lips as she looked back outside. For a moment, they stood there, locked in the reality that this was a fleeting moment - an unexpected connection - was about to slip away as easily as the droplets did. “Don’t think we’re stuck anymore.”

Harry nodded, a sigh falling from his lips as he removed the record from the turntable and placed it back into its sleeve, organizing the pile to sit neatly. He could hear the floor creak as she began to move, and his words fell from his lips before he could stop himself. “Do this again with me?”

Her heart skipped a beat, surprised and hopeful. She smiled, turning around to face him. His expression reminded her that of a schoolboy, and she couldn’t help but giggle. “Are you asking me out, Harry Styles?” Her voice held a lightness despite a familiar flutter in her belly.

He chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. “If you’ll let me.” A smile spread upon his lips. “Maybe next time we can plan for better weather - though I won’t complain if it rains again.”

She felt a warmth spread through her, pins and needles in the tips of her fingers. “I’d like that.” She nodded, smile matching his.

He nodded toward the shopkeeper as they ambled out the door, holding the door open for the pretty girl behind him. His lip tucked between his teeth, the breeze light and airy as he pulled the hood over his head. “Um-“ He mumbled nervously, reaching his hand into his pocket and unlocking his phone. But Y/n already took one of his hands into hers, palm upward as she delved into her tote with the other hand, pulling out a pen that’s been in there for god knows how long. She scribbles her number onto his palm, ending it with a smiley face.

His hand still tingled, and his eyes crinkled from the smile he couldn’t wipe off. “What if it smudges?” He calls out, Y/n already beginning to walk the direction back to her apartment.

She turns, her grin almost as wide as Harry’s as she continues her trek, but backwards and slower than before. “You’ll know where to find me!”

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

LOOK AT YOU

KINKTOBER DAY 8 - MIRROR SEX WITH ROBERT FISCHER

Pairing - Robert Fischer x fem!reader

Summary - Robert likes to have you look at your-filthy-self whenever he takes you.

Warnings - Dubcon, degrading, mean Robert, brat taming, dirty talk.

Word count - 1.5k

The sweat on your skin was clearly visible as you shamefully watched yourself getting pounded from behind through the ensuite mirror. The glass was fogging up, your eyes blurred by the high state of pleasure. Your slippery hands gripped onto the edge of the bassinet as you moaned out in ecstasy. The pair of you were stripped naked, skin heated from your engagement in physical activity.

“Look at yourself, always so desperate for my cock like a little whore…” Robert grunted from behind, his blue eyes locked onto yours through the reflection.

Your walls naturally squeezed around him. It was your guilty pleasure for him to verbally degrade you. An eccentricity that you never knew you craved until you met Robert.

“Yes Robbie” you whimpered, grinding your ass back to get as much sensation as physically possible.

“Can never fucking wait…” Robert hissed as he slapped your ass to hear you yelp out. “Always so needy, I have a business to run, y’know?” He cocked an eye to you, speaking in a concerningly stable tone as his hips continued to snap into you.

“M’sorry… I know you do” you half asked your apology, far to distracted by your waves of pleasure to pay attention to what he was saying.

“I give you so many privileges, but it’s never enough… You didn't even bother to ask how my day was. Too busy crying over the denial of my cock” Robert tutted.

When you woke up in the morning, you were horny. The toys Robert brought you never matched the power of his dick. So you spent the whole day reckless, counting down the minutes on the clock for him to come home. The moment Robert returned, you pounced on him like a tiger. But when he shooed away your advances, you broke down into tears. Desperately begging him for his cock, your arms were wrapped tightly around his leg until he gave in. The look of dissatisfaction on his perfect face went unnoticed by you.

It took you far too long to even realize what he was saying. When he slowed down his thrusts and focused on making them rather painful for you, you gulped and tried to put his words together like a puzzle piece.

“I-uh… H-how was your day?” You eventually spat out, tilting your face up to look at him in the mirror, your eyes blinking rapidly as you tried to take control over your breathing.

“Fucking shit” Robert snapped, his fingernails dug into the skin of your hips.

“I’m sorry!” You mewled, his cock pushing in as far as physically possible.

Robert spat out, dropping his eyes onto the curves of your ass as he focused on fucking you dumb. You hissed out, your legs wobbling like jelly as you struggled to stay up.

“Your whining is inflaming, can’t you just shut up for once?” Robert snapped.

“I can try” you whined, biting onto your lower lip in hopes to satisfy him.

Robert exhaled out, his cock falling still inside of you. His voice dropped so low that you almost didn’t hear what he said.

“How are you going to react when I leave tomorrow?” Robert asked blankly.

You quickly turned your body around, his length falling out of your slippery hole.

“What- But… I thought I was coming?” you shuddered, blinking like flashes of lighting as you fel your eyes swell up.

“Not anymore” Robert exhaled, tilting his head down to you.

Your lower lip trembled as you began to blubber.

“Robbie no! Please take me with you!” you sobbed, covering your chest due to the wave of humiliation.

“No, no…” Robert sighed, shaking his arms at the idea of that. “You’re clearly too desperate for my cock… I can’t afford to have you distract me, sweetheart. It’s an important work trip for me love” Robert explained.

It was only five days, but nevertheless, you had become so in routine with seeing him every single day. So needy and attached to Robert after only a few months of dating him. He was your perfect match, he knew it too. He loved having someone bend in humanly impossible ways for him. Liked to see how dedicated you truly were to him. Yes, your neediness certainly got on his nerves, but he couldn’t help but to also get so riled up from it.

But the paranoia and anxiety was a thunderstorm in your mind. There will be plenty of women throwing themselves at him. What if he goes off sleeping with others. Even worse, what if he falls for another woman?

Robert had never given you any suspicions for infidelity, his devilish eyes always locked onto you. No matter how badly another woman would try to steal his focus away. But you couldn’t help but to always feel subconscious that one day he would let you go. Your only leverage was ever your compelling looks and well, sex. He was the breadwinner, he had all of the assets, you were just his shiny trophy to show off.

“Where are you going off to?” Robert frowned as you rushed out of the ensuite.

“Somewhere else” you sniffled as you picked up your robe and slid it on quickly.

There was nowhere you couldn’t really hide off in his penthouse.

“What?” Robert snorted, shaking his head as he followed you. As you reached out to open the bedroom door, his hand slammed onto the wood. His nostrils flared but Robert was smirking at you. “You were just so desperate for my cock! What’s wrong now?” He sarcastically pouted at you.

“I’m not in the mood anymore” you weeped heavily.

Robert wrapped his arms around your waist underneath your robe. As your bodies pressed together, he tilted his head down at you, pursing his lips. Whenever you looked at him with those deer eyes, his cock would have a twitching fit.

“No, you’ve got me all built up now. Come and slide onto my cock again and watch how good I fuck you” Robert ordered, sliding your robe off leisurely.

“Robbie please” you pleaded as he easily pulled you over to the king sized bed.

“You know the rules. You do as I tell you and I treat you like the bratty princess you are” he snarked.

As he petted your ass to encourage you to hop onto the bed, you sighed defeatedly. Obediently, you followed his request and climbed up onto all fours. With his hands guiding you to turn around to face him, Robert stared down emotionlessly at you.

“You do want me to propose one day, don’t you?” Robert sneered through an innocent look.

A blind man would know your answer. Being engaged to Robert was the ultimate fantasy. Having the honor of wearing his last name would be a dream come true. Even though you had been together for such little time, you were twisting and turning on your seat, wishing to be engaged already. Robert had hinted at an engagement, but never so explicitly.

“Yes Robbie” you gulped, completely wordless for a proper response.

“I’ve been looking at rings, but nothing has caught my eye yet. Nothing matches your beauty” Robert whispered, his hand caressingly your heated cheek.

“Really?” You asked, your chest lifting up.

“Yeah… Alright now, look into the mirror, let’s remember how good I fuck you” Robert nodded as he gestured his hand to the floor length mirror in the corner of the room.

His knees sunk into the mattress behind you, hands guiding your cunt to press against the tip of his erection. At ease, his member disappeared into your sweet abyss.

“Can you see how desperate you are for me? Such a pretty face when you moan like a dirty slut” Robert complimented, his mouth hung open as he slowly fucked your pulsing walls.

“Uh-huh” you moaned up, your upper body slowly slipping closer to the mattress as you allowed your spikes of pleasure to fill your mind again.

“Yeah, come on, wrap this up for us… I have an early flight tomorrow, remember?” Robert toyed, snapping your painful thoughts back. Your body shot back up again.

“Please can I come!” You begged, the last sliver of hope slipped off your tongue.

“No” he said sternly.

“I don’t want to be alone here!” you argued, your firm tone was pathetic.

“You’ll have the maids come and go. You can still go out with your friends. But the no bars, clubs or parties rule remains” Robert explained sternly. You whined in return.

It was forbidden for you to attend those places without him. The thought of another man’s eyes lingering on you without him able to protect you angered him with jealously.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll call you every night before bed, okay?” Robert assured, a gleeful smile on his lips. You forced yourself to smile back, his hips picking up place.

“Mhm, and if you leave me the fuck alone on this trip, then I’ll fuck you the whole entire night when I fly back, how does that sound?” He proposed.

“Mhm! Good Robbie!” you moaned out, his tip brushing against your cervix.

“Good, now come on, milk my cock empty then, so I won’t have to miss you so dearly” Robert grinned as he felt himself twitch harshly inside of you.

[semisgroupie]

TWO BIRDS OF A FEATHER

nerdy perv!armin arlert x perv!fem. reader

wc: 2.2k

warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of panty stealing and panty sniffing, handjob, armin gets a little rough (he’s pent up, what do you expect?), mentions of non consensual filming and photo taking, mentions of male masturbation, armin is called pretty and reader is called slut, pussydrunk!armin, ruined orgasm (m!receiving), dacryphilia (kinda)

synopsis: the star of your twisted delusions is just as sick as you

You knew this was wrong. He’s your best friend and an unsuspecting victim in your perverted delusions. But you just couldn’t help yourself with him.

Armin was just so cute and just the perfect prey for your predatory mind.

The way a blush always crept onto his face whenever you leaned just a little too close to him, how his fingers looked whenever he turned the page of the book he was reading or whenever they pressed against the dark frames of his glasses to adjust them on his nose, or your favorite: the way he always stumbled over his words whenever he got flustered and had to end up looking away because his face was too flushed.

It just made you think about how he might look as you kneeled between his legs and stroked his cock. Or how he might look as you rode him to the point of overstimulation or edged him. Would he cry? He would look so pretty crying for you, his pretty blue eyes all puffy and his bottom lip jutting out in a little pout as tears streamed down his face.

Little did you know he had his perverted fantasies of you. If only you knew that he was pressing his favorite pair of your panties against his nose while fisting his cock. Letting his glasses get all fogged up due to his heavy breaths until he made a mess all over his hand. If only you knew that whenever he watched porn or read hentai, he imagined you as the female lead. Imagining what it would feel like to make you cum on his tongue over and over or how you would tremble when he sank his cock into you. God, he’d let you do whatever you wanted to him. He’d be at your beck and call, your toy to use as you please.

He was in the middle of his daily ritual, a pair of your silk panties were pressed to his nose as he fisted his cock. He was right on the edge when he received your text. He dropped everything to read it and had to shove his hard cock back in his pants before getting ready to head to your place. You were bored at home and wanted to see if he wanted to come over and watch a new show you found.

After some time your doorbell rang and you got up to open the door. He was taken aback a little from seeing your outfit, one of the shirts you stole from him and a pair of sleeping shorts that were barely visible. He felt his cock twitch back to life and let you lead him in. “So, I put out all of our favorite snacks and got some drinks ready for the show. I saw a lot of good reviews about it and I thought it might be up your alley.” He just nodded along with whatever you said, more focused on how his shirt looked on you and he tried not to let his mind wander too much.

You pulled him onto the couch and stretched your legs over his lap, your calf brushing a little too close to his crotch. He tried his best to focus on the show, to try to focus on anything but how close your legs were to his cock but you made it so difficult. Shifting around too much or adjusting your legs and bringing them closer to his cock. Then you finally did it, you put your leg right on his crotch, actually feeling how hard he was.

Your eyes widened a little before you looked over at him, a deep red blush bloomed across his face but he didn’t bother to move your leg. “Armin, have you been hard this whole time?” It was an obvious question with an obvious answer but you wanted to hear it from him. He looked over at you and adjusted his glasses on his nose. “I’m sorry, this isn’t right. I should just go.” He made a move to get up but you quickly stopped him, now that you were finally able to get your hands on him, you wouldn’t let him leave.

“You know, you can’t go outside like this. Anyone could see your boner through your pants and who knows what they might say?” You moved closer to him and moved to straddle his lap before moving your hands down to his pants. He watched your hands with wide eyes and bated breaths, he couldn’t believe this was happening now. You pulled his cock out and you were impressed, it was bigger than anything you would’ve imagined and definitely bigger than what you fantasized about. You brought one hand to your mouth to spit on it then brought it back down to start stroking his cock. You were hyper focused on it, the red tip that leaked the perfect bead of precum, how it throbbed in your hand as you worked it, it was perfect.

“You have such a pretty cock Armin, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so pretty. Just like you.” You finally lifted your head to gauge his reaction, a deep red blush along his cheeks and his bottom lip was tucked between his teeth. His bright blue eyes were focused on your hand before they finally met yours. “Please keep stroking me.” His voice trembled as he spoke, as if he was unsure of what he was telling you and it just spurred you on even more. You started moving your hand faster, your spit and his precum mixed to lube his cock and slick sounds along with his groans hit your ears.

“Fuck, fuck your hand feels so good.” He shut his eyes and bucked his hips up into your hand, more moans escaping his lips. You leaned in close and pressed your lips against his, slipping your tongue into his mouth as you continued to stroke his cock. He moaned into your mouth and moved his hands up your thighs and gripped your waist to bring you closer to him. His cock still throbbed in your hand as you pumped it. He gripped you tighter, he was embarrassingly close, being pent up from earlier and finally having you touch him brought him closer to the edge.

He broke the kiss and rested his head on your shoulder as he whined. “I’m gonna cum baby.” There it was, the door to the perfect opportunity finally opened. You released his cock and moved back, watching how it twitched frantically and a weak head of cum spilled from the tip. A broken moan left him and he looked at you with wide eyes. “Why would you do that?” He pouted a little and felt some tears brim his eyes as he looked at the satisfied look on your face.

“Why wouldn’t I? You just look so pretty when you’ve been denied like that and I just wanted to see the expression on your face for myself. It’s not like you didn’t cum, you just had a ruined orgasm and look how hard you still are. I can give you my hand again.” He hated the smug look on your face and he wanted to wipe it off — no, he was going to wipe it off.

He gripped your hips tightly and lifted you off his lap to drop you onto the couch, then in a swift move, he moved between your legs and pinned your arms above your head. Your eyes widened at his actions and your breath was caught in your throat. “There it is, that’s a better reaction.” He bit his lip and held both of your wrists in one of his hands and then moved his free hand down between your legs and pressed his palm against your covered pussy. He groaned and looked at you, “fuck, look at that. You’re just absolutely soaking through your shorts. It would be a shame to keep this on don’t you think?” All you did was nod, you couldn’t find the words to string together because your mind was trying to understand the shift in his demeanor. The control was all yours and now it’s all his.

He pulled off your shorts and panties haphazardly and tossed them aside. His cock was still hard and throbbed as he finally saw your bare pussy. “You know, even though you did offer your hand again, I see a perfectly good hole just waiting to be used. What do you think? Want me to fuck this needy pussy?” You looked down at his cock and spread your legs a little more for him, you couldn’t help but be turned on by him and this side he was showing you. You never thought he would have a dominant bone in his body but looks were definitely deceiving. “Please fuck me, Armin.”

He gripped the base of his cock and dragged it along your folds, collecting your juices on the tip before he pressed it against your entrance, slowly sinking into you. A whimper followed by a grunt left him as he started thrusting shallowly, pushing more of his cock into you. The feeling of your warm, wet walls clenching around him made his head all fuzzy. All coherent thoughts left his mind as he sank into you. He released the grip on your wrists and moved both of his hands to each of your thighs to spread them wider for him, letting him sink deeper into you.

His hips slammed into yours and your moans and whines spurred him on. “You don’t know how long I’ve dreamt about this. I’ve been dying to fuck you. I started to think that I was sick in the head. There’s so many things and there were so many times where I wanted to fuck you. All those nights we spent here on the couch cuddling, I didn’t want anything more than to just bury my head between your thighs and take you. And I know you wanted it just as much. All those times you wore those short skirts and short dresses, it’s like you were begging me to take all those photos and videos of you. I even have them saved on a private album in my gallery.”

His confession poured out of his lips as he slammed into you over and over, the grip he had on your thighs was hard enough to leave a bruise but you could care less. All you did was clench around him and moaned even more. Your best friend was more sick and perverted than you were and all it did was turn you on. “Armin! Fuck!” He was hitting all your sweet spots and he continued to drill into you, it was like he was possessed at the moment. He just fucked you like an animal. “I also have a collection of your panties. They always smell so sweet, just like you. I’m surprised that you haven’t questioned where they went. Are you just that naive? Or did you know that I was taking them the whole time? Hm? Was this what you wanted? Wanted me to fuck you like the greedy slut you are? Was that why you opened the door today wearing my shirt? Knew it would just spur me on?”

Honestly, you didn’t have a plan going into seeing him today. His shirt was just comfortable and smelled like him and then you were bored of just lounging around. “N-no! I just wanted to spend time with you like always!” He looked into your eyes and he couldn’t see a thought behind them, so it was safe for him to assume you weren’t lying. “So just naive then? A naive little slut all for me and a naive little slut that’s getting ready to cum all over my cock.”

He moved one hand and brought it closer to your pussy, your clit was swollen and begged for attention. He brought his hand to his mouth and licked his thumb before bringing it down to your clit to start rubbing it. The feeling of his thumb on your clit was more than enough to set you off, you clenched around his cock tightly and squirted your juices along his hand and cock, soaking him and the cushions underneath you. He leaned down and smashed his lips against your as he continued to thrust and it didn’t take him long to finish after you. Thick ropes of his cum filled you completely, stuffing you to the point where you started leaking out around his cock.

He broke the kiss and panted as he rested his head on your shoulder, his cock still twitching inside you. You weakly wrapped your arms around him and peppered a few kisses along his face. Once he caught his breath he slowly lifted himself off of you and pulled you up with him as he sat up. He rubbed your sides and kept you close to him. “I’ve wanted this for such a long time, pretty boy.” You mumbled into the side of his neck before you lifted your head to look at him. A smile broke on your face when you saw his disheveled state, you brushed some hair out of his face then reached down on the couch to grab his glasses that had fallen off without you realizing it. You adjusted them on his face and caressed his cheek. “I’ve probably wanted this for even longer, beautiful. But just know, this isn’t the last time for us and I will get you back for that ruined orgasm earlier.”

tagging: @delirieum @briefrebelfanalmond @vampgloss

[thewriterg]

𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠

pairing(s); johnny cage x fem!reader, kenshi x fem!reader, johnny cage x kenshi

summary; You’d do anything to keep them safe if you need to sing your song to get through war so be it. —angstober day; 12—

word count; 1.5k

warning(s); violence, weapons, siren coded reader, blood, injuries, kisses, and language

playlist; wet by dazey and the scouts

A/n:—GIFs; @mortal-kombat-1— played mk1 and don’t know how to act

“You sent them on a mission without my knowledge or and experienced supervision” You hissed your eyes leering into Liu Kang's pale glowing one as he sighed gently looking upon your angered expression that leered holes into his powered body

“You underestimate them Y/n the group consists of strong warriors if they weren't prepared to be sent to accomplish this mission then I would have no desire send them but they were” The sensei tied to reassure you yet it wasn't visibly enough to ease your troubles

“I'm going to aid them by the sound of it the mission at hand should have not taken this long they should have been back days ago” You stated stepping to put your swords on your back your eyes flickering that glowing black that your rivals and enemies feared the last thing they’ve seen before they were put to rest finding peace elsewhere while the brunette said nothing to stop you deep down somewhere in his subconscious he knew that your concerns were valid

“Y/n!” The warrior called out as you opened a portal black fog spilling out of it your eye now completely black in response you looked over your shoulder not making a single move to step back or back down

“Be noble in your bloodshed, I would like to be able to step foot into the realm again”

“With all due respect Liu Kang they shall be lucky if their head stays intact with their bodies let alone if their realm is still liveable” Without another word you you stepped through the portal before you were across the tower of Shang Tsung laboratory you didn't have time to linger the probability of getting caught high if you stayed in one place too long

Stealthily you snuck passed the guards after throwing an empty elixir bottle at a wall the sound of the glass shattering causing them to rush to the scene allowing you to wipe pass the entrance without much fuss you let you instinct guide you to the brick wall closest to the forest of the building pressing your palms against the rough material as you mended yourself into the cold basement of the building

The sound of footsteps bounced of the walls and you sucked in a sharp breath trying to think of something quickly scanning the hallway with the speed of light until you found a solution bending your knees and locking your feet into the ground to give you a power boost before you jumped you fingertips clinging to the little basically nonexistent space to hang onto swinging your legs up to kick in the grilles as it clashed open downwards its dividers now sitting with a bend in their metal

You quickly slipped into the vent as the sound of rushed footsteps approached your location you legs slithering behind your torso before you stuck a hand out of your temporary hiding spot pulling the cover up back in its place you watched through the metal slots Shang Tsung looked around to find nothing you would laugh at the fact that he look up directly at your peering eyes if you were in the mood

You waited until the footsteps started up once more to start moving behind the perpetrator making sure that you made no sound or shuffling noise there was a slant downward inside the cool dark vents the same time the sound of a door unlocking was heard you were in the right place

Your heart dropped as you inched closer toward the laboratory like dungeon the muffled groans of Johnny and the even worse whimpers of Kenshi you fought the urge to burst out the ceiling swords up thoughts down

“This process I call it electric love, after your done with it you'll learn to love the chambers the most… they hurt the least” Shang Tsung voice rang out in the cold hollow basement like room the sound way carrying through the vent clear for your ears while you perked up at the source of light in the predominantly dark ceiling

“Make sure they're withered to nothing, they should be a easy session for the tarkata” This was it if you wanted a chance to capture the adversary it had to be quick and it had to be now you waited until the footsteps approached the exit gate before kicking through the grilles landing in front of Tsunes with a hand positioned to your side one knee to the floor the other directed up towards the air

“Siren, see you've come to join your peers” His voice littered with a dark chuckle and you stood to your full height starting bullets into sorcerer

“No but you shall join your brother in the under realm” The mans face dropped at the mention while Kenshi perked up at the sound of your voice having to rely on his hearing to get past without his ability to see

You charged towards him with a punch landing directly towards his jaw taking a blow not only at his mandible but at his vulnerability when you went to swipe your feet under the sorcerer he grabbed you leg tripping you up you head hitting the cold concrete floor with a sickening thud before you could get on your feet there was a rough impact on your shoulder as your head was forced to look at your lovers captured the electricity having ceased on their bodies you noted Kenshi's masked eyes making your eyebrows furrow and Johnny's protest as he shook the bars of his enclosure you were forced to the ground with a knee in your back

“Your lovers courage and loyalty is honorary yet the execution is pathetic” You you heavily breathed through your teeth your fist clenched against your side

“Tell me Siren, can a heart still break if it stops beating?” A man dressed in green armor approached your line of sight about to open the cage you red masked love slouched in the keys jingling in his slightly shaken hand

“Can your brain still pump blood if it's in my hands?” You muttered taking all your strength to propel your body up from under the sorcerer's hold your taking swords from your back the once silver blade wielding black before your fingertips you sliced the at the mans back him hissing in response

“I'll end your misery quick and precisely” You stated voice void of emotion before Shang ran at you while you blocked his attacks swiftly a black fog falling over the room making it difficult for him to maneuver his senses were overloaded he was at his full charge yet had nothing to force it on causing him to burn out your attacks came silently and stilly he was running himself dry exactly what you wanted him to

The voice of desire called out to him your silhouette shined through the gloomy dark fog your voice promised him everything he could conquer in the biggest dreams and most wealthy realms he followed the sound your form getting closer until he walked into the blade of your sword a grunt resetting on his lips as he kept walking pushing it further into him until his torso met with the base of black reflective piece yearning for the promise of his desires the source being the song that fell from your lips until he dropped to his knees unconscious

You didn't waste a lasting second running towards the cages Reptile unconscious from the poisoned smoke Johnny and Kenshi along with the reaming earth realm team was trained to withstand it become immune to a certain point you felt your body weakening but ignored its call to rest it had been days since they left since you had

“Oh Kenshi” You whisperer after taking the gate from its hinges off the swinging cage his body fell into yours as you gently lowered yourselves to the floor a more prominent black trail of smoke tracing to Johnny's enclosure wailing him free as he rushed towards you both you opening your arms making room for him to fit your eyes scanning over their bodies the Hollywood stars body you deemed fine apart from a couple battered bruises Kenshi on the other hand the red mask on his eyes made your heart pick up as your fingers inched towards his face rubbing your thumb against his cheek as he grunted holding back a whimper at the pain you gently pulled the red cloth from his eyes sucking in a sharp breath at she sight of his gouged eyes tears brought to your own as you pressed a shaky kiss to his forehead

“I'm here, I'm gonna find a way to heal you, I'll find a way”

“We’ll find a way” Johnny mumbled into your armor clothed shoulder as you rocked the three of you back and forth. It would work, you'd find a way.

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

[welldigger62]

The weekend is out there somewhere

This picture is taken looking east like a lot of my morning pics, but look at that fog!

Visibility is about a quarter mile and the humidity was at 93% when I took this. Probably due to the scattered rain yesterday.

I think I’ll stay inside for a while 🤨

Hope the weather is better wherever the rest of you guys are. Where is that anyway?

Drop a location in a comment 👇

[mgopinoon]

I've been a bit absent these past few weeks (though I’m not sure anyone noticed since I still try to post), but work has been overwhelming and I haven’t been able to be as present as I’d like.

A while ago, I mentioned that when there’s not much Austin content, I’d take the opportunity to tell you a bit about Chile so you can get to know my country.

Chile is the only country in Latin America that isn’t tropical. We have all four seasons, and right now it’s winter. Honestly, I’ve been struggling because I’m a summer lover. I don’t know if it’s due to climate change, but winters are getting harsher. Many tourists make the mistake of thinking it’s always warm in Chile, but temperatures often drop below zero. Here’s a photo from a few days ago—visibility was almost zero because of the fog.

Even though I’m not a fan of winter, one beautiful thing about this season is that the Andes mountains get covered in snow, and the views are stunning. I’ll leave a video showing different parts of Santiago so you can get a sense of what the city is like.

Fun fact: many people think that because the country is called "Chile," we love spicy food. But that's not true! Chilean cuisine isn’t particularly spicy. The name actually comes from the shape of the country—it looks like a chili pepper on the map.

Culturally, other Latin American countries often say we’re “serious” or more structured, but the truth is we love dark humor. We laugh even in the worst situations, make memes about everything, and cancel anyone who messes with our country. For example, Adam Levine (lead singer of Maroon 5) had to turn off his Instagram comments because of Chileans. I’m not proud of the grudge we can hold, but he became public enemy number one here. Even Donald Trump had to turn off his comments after thousands of Chileans flooded his posts with “cabeza de pichi,” which literally means “pee head.” Lol.

Many Spanish speakers say we have our own language in Chile because we speak fast and use lots of slang. But honestly, that happens everywhere. In Chile, Mexico, or Colombia, the same word can mean totally different things. That said, I hope this doesn’t scare you off from learning Spanish! Hahaha.

That’s all for now. Thanks for reading— even if it’s just one person 💛

-Chely 💕

[ninakaina]

its definitely not sun madness i dont think. theres a different thing going on in my brain where it's always light out but i never see the sun due to the fog which is everywhere and comes up and down in minutes. maximum visibility you can see the horizon which is endless and grey-white except for the haunch of this blasted treeless island 5 miles away and at minimum visibility i could not see my ship at all at a distance of less than 300 meters. it's almost exciting when you can see the island or the horizon. we say to each other "look it's the island!" when we see a dark shape out there but sometimes it's just a trick of the fog. i think it's the way there's no sense of time or place? everything is white and i spend all day outside but feel like no time has elapsed but also like it's been years since i was dropped off, and then in the morning it feels like it's still yesterday aside from the waves possibly being worse 🤷‍♀️ i don't think it's like, Bad bad for my mental health but it is definitely affecting me in ways that aren't Good

[sngl-led-auto-lights]

Should you turn on your headlights when it's raining?

Yes, you should turn on your headlights when it’s raining, even during daylight hours. Here’s why it’s critical and what the law says:

1. Safety Reasons

Visibility: Rain reduces visibility for you (due to water on the windshield) and other drivers (due to spray from wet roads). Headlights make your vehicle 25–40% more visible in heavy rain.

Avoid Hydroplaning: Headlights help you spot standing water or puddles earlier.

Rear Lights: Turning on headlights activates your taillights, which are crucial for drivers behind you to see your car through rain or mist.

2. Legal Requirements

In the U.S.: • Most states (e.g., Florida, California, New York) require headlights whenever windshield wipers are in use. • Fines range from $50–$250 for non-compliance.

In the EU: • Daytime headlights are mandatory in rain, fog, or low light (EU Directive 2008/89/EC).

Canada/Australia: Similar laws apply, with penalties for failing to use lights in rain.

3. Daytime Running Lights (DRLs) Are Not Enough

DRLs only illuminate the front of your vehicle and often leave taillights off, making your car invisible from behind in rain.

Solution: Manually switch to full headlights (low beams).

4. When to Use Fog Lights

Fog lights (if equipped) should be used only in heavy fog, as they can create glare in rain. Stick to low beams unless visibility drops below 100 meters.

5. Best Practices

Turn lights on at the first raindrop—don’t wait for downpours.

Avoid high beams—they reflect off rain droplets, reducing visibility.

Clean headlights regularly—dirty lenses can reduce light output by 50%.

Why Drivers Skip It (and Why They Shouldn’t)

“I can see fine”: Your headlights aren’t just for your vision—they’re for others to see you.

“My car has automatic lights”: Sensors may not activate lights in light rain. Double-check manually.

Bottom Line: In rain, low beams + wipers = safer roads. It’s a small step with life-saving impact.

[densi-mber]

Frozen

Callen kicked open the door, carting an armload of firewood with him. “I think there’s enough to get us through the night and morning tomorrow,” he said, shaking snow off of his buzzed hair. “Did you get in touch with the power company?”

“Yeah, the area is experiencing widespread outages and they’re getting to the problem as quickly as possible,” Deeks answered. He sat to the side of a blazing fire, mixing the content of a small pot hung from an improvised hook Sam had rigged up.

“We’ll just have to wait it out,” Sam decided.

For the last four days, they’d been chasing a pair of hackers who had fled LA while out on bond. The team had tracked them across multiple states before ultimately landing in small town in Indiana yesterday.

The sole hotel in town didn’t have vacancies due to several pipes bursting from cold weather, so they’d found a house for rent and managed to convince the owner to let them rent it for a few days. It left a lot to be desired, but at least it offered protection from the dropping temperatures and growing snowfall.

At least until the power went out unexpectedly, plunging the house into complete darkness. As they scrambled to get out flashlights, the temperature had fallen with alarming speed. Fortunately, the place had a functioning fireplace, but it only generated enough heat to keep the main room above freezing, and the wood supply was quickly dwindling.

Deeks handed out bowls of disappointing canned chicken soup and they ate in silence.

“Of course the one time we come to Indiana, there has to be a blizzard,” Kensi complained a few minutes later. She blew on her hands and then rubbed them in front of the fire. Like the rest of them, she wore a parka, stocking cap, and scarf. Callen and Sam stood on the opposite side, trying to remain stoic, yet clearly feeling the effect of the cold if their fidgeting was any indicator.

“To be fair, it is January and I’m pretty sure this is normal for most of the Midwest,” Deeks pointed out.

“Thanks, babe.” Glaring at him, she raised her shoulders to her ears, visibly shuddering.

“I’m sorry. You want to snuggle?”

Wedging herself next to him on the ledge in front of the fireplace, Kensi leaned into his side.

“This would be a lot more fun if we were at Mammoth,” she muttered.

“You even think of doing anything you two get up to there, I’ll kick your butts outside,” Sam threatened. He’d started pacing the length of the room after they ate, his irritation growing with every pass.

“Fortunately for you, it’s a bit chilly for that kind of activity to be enjoyable,” Deeks said. “Thought it might warm us up.” So would a cup of boiling hot coffee or an extra pair of socks.

“Warmth sounds nice.” Kensi pressed her cold nose into his neck and Deeks winced.

“You gotta keep moving. Keep the blood flowing.”

“Is this an inappropriate moment for a “that’s what she said” joke?” Deeks wondered.

“You know, we’re gonna need to sleep at some point,” Callen pointed out. Of all of them he seemed the least affected by the cold. “We’ll probably need to huddle up to stay warm.”

“Ooh, sounds cozy. And slightly scandalous.”

“Deeks, I am not snuggling with you,” Sam growled between chattering teeth.

“Aw, that’s hurtful,” Deeks gasped, his breath fogging out in an icy blast. “And here—here I was gonna let you be the big spoon.”

“More like serving spoon,” Callen added under his breath.

“Deeks is really good at snuggling,” Kensi chimed in.

“If I could, I would leave you all right here.” Sam’s usual glare lacked some of his usual weight and Deeks grinned back at him, enjoying the distraction from his cold and stiff fingers.

“A hollow threat given it’s below ten degrees outside. Without the windchill.”

“We’ll be fine,” Sam insisted.

***

An Hour Later

“See, this isn’t so bad,” Deeks said, cradling Kensi against his chest. Callen lay next to her, and at the very end, by his choice, lay Sam. They’d pulled out as many blankets and quilts as they could find and piled them on the floor in front of the fire.

Now under a thick layer of blankets and curled around Kensi, he felt a little warmer.

“Mm, you make a very nice space heater,” she said, already sounding a little sleepy.

“Speak for yourself,” Sam grumbled.

“Oh come on Sam, from now on this will be known as the great OSP Slumber Party.”

“We’re never speaking of this to anyone. Ever,” Sam disagreed.

“Of course.” Kensi nodded. “Except for Eric and Nell.”

“And Granger,” Callen added.

“I’m starting to think I’d be better off outside.”

[cardinalhq]

PLOT DROP 06; 02/05/1991

The winds howled through the narrow streets of Cardinal Hill, giving the impression that the sky itself was enraged. They whipped around corners, rattling windows and biting through the air. Snowflakes, light at first, quickly thickened, swirling down in dense, constant flurries. The town was soon blanketed in a thick, white snow that quickly settled on rooftops and drifted across the quiet streets.

That morning, before the snow had begun to fall so relentlessly, Sidney Matthews had been watching the streets through their blinds, as they often did - and even more so after an attack on their neighbor earlier that year. Sidney had always believed in doing their part to keep the neighborhood safe, and after Dianne’s brutal injury, they found themselves by the window more than ever.

Sidney was one of the few residents who had been able to breathe a sigh of relief when they saw Dianne return home, battered but alive, just a couple of weeks ago. Though still in poor condition, Dianne had refused to leave her house since. Sidney couldn't help but feel sorrow for her; such a vibrant person now confined to her home, either out of fear or due to the lasting effects of the attack. At least she had survived, but it was hard to shake the sadness that lingered in the air whenever Sidney thought of her.

Just as the wind began to pick up, and before the snow had fully blanketed the streets, Sidney saw Dianne for the first time since her return home. It wasn’t just Dianne, however, but instead the entire Jones family was leaving their house across the street, packing a large truck with all of their belongings. They were leaving town - Sidney could tell that much even through the steadily thickening snow. But what struck them as odd was that the family hadn’t even put up a ‘for sale’ sign.

The situation felt strange, but as the snow picked up outside, all Sidney could do was stay inside, mulling over the mystery of it all. It might have been curious, seeing a family suddenly pack up without so much as a word about it to any neighbor, especially one they'd known for years, but after what had happened to Dianne, Sidney could understand the urge to leave, even if it wasn’t fully explained.

As Sidney’s mind lingered on the Jones family, the snow continued to fall, and by mid-morning, residents all over Cardinal Hill awoke to a thick blanket of snow that only seemed to grow heavier. News broadcasts on radios and television sets soon warned everyone to stay inside, urging caution as conditions worsened. By the time the snow really started to pile up, it was clear that many people had underestimated the storm. What began as a quiet snowfall quickly escalated into a blizzard that trapped residents wherever they happened to be.

Those who had ventured out for work or errands found themselves stuck in places they never imagined they'd be for long. Shops, cafes, and gas stations, which normally buzzed with activity, now sat silent, their windows fogged up as employees huddled near small heaters, chatting in an almost surreal calm. Some residents even ended up stranded in the homes of friends and family, unexpectedly snowed in for the night. As the storm continued to rage, it became evident that Cardinal Hill was caught in the kind of isolation only a snowstorm of this magnitude could bring.

The streets, once familiar, had vanished beneath deep drifts. Cars were buried in the snow, their once-visible outlines now completely obscured. What little traffic there had been came to a halt, the snow quickly filling the tire tracks, erasing all signs of movement. As the hours passed, the wind howled louder, pushing the snow into eerie, shifting dunes that blocked doorways and windows. No one could get in or out. Even the brave few who tried to venture out found themselves quickly overwhelmed, their steps swallowed by the snow as it piled up at an alarming rate.

The town had become a snowbound ghost town, with only the faint outlines of homes and buildings visible through the swirling white. Cardinal Hill, usually so vibrant with its small-town energy, was now trapped in a quiet, almost haunting stillness. No one could reach anyone else unless they happened to be nearby, and even then, the roads were impossible to navigate. The power flickered on and off, causing temporary lapses in most of the residents' sources of heat, and most phone calls consisted of mainly crackles and odd hums.

By the time night fell, every home had been turned into a shelter, the glow of lamps and candles casting warm light through windows covered in frost. Residents settled in for a long night, knowing that this wasn’t just another snowstorm, feeling deep in their guts that something was wrong, that something felt... off. Cardinal Hill was cut off, at least for the time being, from the rest of the world. The storm raged on, indifferent to the lives it had trapped within its icy grip, and all the residents could do was wait.

[written2her]

The intro:

Our little drama is a story that is told in hundreds of towns in rural America. Beautiful Sasha the hometown prom queen that everyone remembers. And really who could blame them? She is the curvaceous American beauty that every man wants and every woman wants to be. Her warm brunette curls bounce and sway as much as her round ample breasts. Her five four stature is hard to believe, with her long legs seemingly reaching heaven. Heaven is the only way to describe that thick luscious ass. And all of that is surpassed by that girl next door's face that the sun rises every day to see. Sasha was that elusive catch that everyone wanted to get in their mitts. She spent her days as a receptionist for the local family law office. They rarely had any clients. Taggert Thompson, the son of an oil tycoon, kept the office open and Sasha paid well, hoping one day she,out of gratitude, would let him have his way with her. She answered phones and occasionally brought Taggert his coffee or lunch. Her dreams were crushed when she had to return home from law school due to her parents declining ability to make ends meet. She lived in her little loft apartment right on the edge of the family farm. Day by day, the routine was mundane. Then out of the blue everything started to change. Bishop was back in town.

Bishop was a gorgeous man. What Greek gods dreamed to look like. From his towering six seven frame to the muscles chiseled out of granite. His arms covered in scars and tattoos seem to always glisten as the veins in his forearms bulged. Speaking of bulges, his rod was visible through coveralls from down the street. The years of being a United States Marine really crafted a true work of art. He came back after his dad had passed to look after the family's place. Unsure of what his role in the town would be or if he would even stay. He put his skills and knowledge to use just being the local handy man. He was always hesitant to return home. Here is where he was betrayed and overlooked. This is where he felt pain and sadness. War couldn't break him,not like she did.

Tuesday at Bill's Bakery and Bistro, Sasha came in as usual. She always stopped by on Tuesdays to pick up Taggert's lunch. "Ten minutes Sasha. The oven has been broke all morning " shouted Bill from the back. "Have a seat sweetie and have what you need shortly." Just then Bishop emerged from the back. Sasha's jaw dropped and her panties moistened. There before her stood the boy she had a crush on as a young girl. Now as a well aged man. Covered in sweat, grease, and smute he stood there commanding every eye in to obedience. His white t-shirt clung to him as if it were a second skin. Holding tightly to his defined muscles adding contrast to bronzed sun kiss skin. Even covered with sweat and muck you can still smell the same after shave he wire in high school. He loads his tools in to his tool satchel meticulously. She catches herself staring in unadulterated awe. Luckily, not once has he looked her way. He dollars at Bill, they can settle up later as he walks to the door and without skipping step says "You still look amazing, Sasha." Walks to his truck and leaves. Half in awe still and half in a wet mess, Sasha sits there in disbelief of what she just saw. Bill brings her the order and trys speaking to her, but she was lost in a trance."Sasha!Sasha! Are you ok?" Bill's voice comes through the fog of lala land. "Yes, Bill, I am ok. I haven't seen Bishop in almost fifteen years."she mutters out still replaying the events in her mind.

Weeks had past since she had seen him in the dinner. She would see his truck here and there throughout their small town. Once she even drove by his family place, hoping to see just another glimpse of him. He alluded her sight at every turn. "Hello, Sasha."his voice voice she didn't even need to turn around. At the grocery store of all places. Of course everyone has to eat. She stands there frozen with the freezer door open the cold chilling her perspiring skin. Goose bumps cover her arms and legs. Her nipples harden as they had frozen solid. "HEL" as she turns she realizes he is much closer than she expected. Her arms swings as she turns grazing across the front of his jeans. "Lo. Oh, my gosh! I am so sorry, Bishop" she says panicky knowing full well she rubbed his cock. There he was towering over her, smiling and half shocked as her hand was still resting on the front of his pants."Did you find something you like?" He said with a devilish look in his eyes. "What, yes, of course I like it very much" noticing his member swell in his jeans. Now coming to grip with the truth of the moment. She has her hand on his bulge and that was what he was referring to. Yanking it back and grasping her other hand tightly. He smiled and gave her a sweet little side hug. He grabs a couple frozen meals and hands her his business card and tells her to call him sometime so they can catch up. As he leaves the aisle he turns and says "It was nice to see you again, I really enjoyed it." Dumbfounded again she stands there wondering what the hell is going on. She is always the one who is in control, but not around him. His presence is intoxicating and refreshing.

Days passed like seconds, and all Sasha could think about was him. Where Bishop was or what he was doing, when did he undress? Her curiosity turned to a feral hunger and his flesh was the only thing going to satisfy her. Remembering his card that he gave she searched her home for something broke so she could call him. Finding nothing, she had to improvise she removed her panties balled them up, and flushed them down the toilet. The water began to back up and without hesitating she called Bishop. "Hi, Bishop! This is Sasha. I am at the old barn apartment at my parent's place. The toilet is overflowing and I can get it to stop." She said in the most panicked force she could perform. He chuckled and told her he was right down the road and could be there in a couple of minutes. Rushing to the mirror she checked her makeup and hair. Adjusted her girls so they were spilling out her sundress. Nothing showing, but a good sneeze and they would be all but freed. Knocking at the door. Bishop wasn't kidding he was there wet vacuum and tools in hand. She opened the door flaunting everything the good lord blessed her with, "Thank you for getting here so soon" she chirped. With a laughing undertone he said " I heard you were all wet. I have the right tool for the job." Blushing she led him to the restroom, the floor now saturated. He got to work removing the water with his vacuum and spraying disinfectant. He plunged and snaked her toilet, seemingly further wedging her panties deeper into the pipes. He explained that he was going to have to pull the toilet and check her plumbing. As he turned his head to see her bent over toweling some water that had seeped into the hall. She peeks back knowing that she is giving him a good view. She catches him tilting his head and taking it all in. She realized that he us going to find her panties balled up in the drain.....PANTIES! SHE ISN'T WEARING ANY PANTIES! He was taking it all in as she stood there bent over offering her needy little holes to him. Frozen in half embarrassment and half arousal. She could feel herself begin to dew. Constantly peeking to see his reaction. He worked blindly never taking his eyes off her ever moistening slit. Slightly opening and closing as she worked the towel back and forth. His growing cock trying to tear through his jeans. She stands up and goes to the laundry room to put the towel in the washer. She starts the washer and begins to rub her clit. Thinking about him gazing at her exposed pussy. Watching his member come to life. She rubs her nearly exposed breast as she vigorously rubs her love bean. The washer began to shake, something that normally bothered her, but today she felt the vibrations. She pressed herself against it. Taking advantage of having both hands free she squeezed and groped her breasts and nipples. Pinching and twisting as the machine tickled her lady bits. Feeling her climax she bites her lip to muffle her moans of ecstasy. Bishop calls out "Almost all done in here." She composes herself and puts her fully aroused breast away.

[madelineserenity]

Can I request the reaper nurses and the dog girl who was familiar with them in the past and was their assistant (Since I like reaper nurses in dark deception and you write great about them, I thought you would do it)I really like your work with the reaper nurses.❤️💓

She's a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel named Ellie because... I said so ok? Sorry this one took longer than I expected. I kept getting writer's block partially due to having constant brain fog/distractibility for the past week or two, for no obvious reason :/ it was going to be way longer but I just can't..

Quite some time ago, Ellie lived with the Reaper Nurses. A sweet little thing, standing at a total 5,2"/160cm, she'd always been so excited to be useful. Her cute, friendly temperament helped lower the guards of mortals seeking the soul shards and made patients feel better. Sadly, she had a crucial flaw; she was just too tiny and fragile for the work.

Ellie was easily knocked over by fleeing mortals. She wasn't strong enough to wield a syringe or carry supplies around the hospital. She was too light to tackle and easily shoved off, too excitable to be stealthy. All in all, she made for a wonderful companion, but an unfortunate Reaper Nurse.

Upsetting as it was for everyone, Ellie eventually found a new place with the Murder Monkeys. This way, she had plenty of friends her own size to teach her how to take advantage of the strengths she had. There was plenty of room to run around in her spare time and play. Everything would be fine. Even though Ellie and the nurses were heartbroken, everything would be fine. This was the best solution for everyone.

She hated it at first. She hated the unfamiliar location and smells, without the company of her nurses with her to make it worth it. She had to get used to brushing out her own curls, instead of having someone else to pamper her, like before. The Murder Monkeys were too busy for the snuggles she missed so badly and weren't particularly interested anyway. Ellie didn't like having knives so close, and besides, it didn't mean much. They weren't the people she wanted in the first place.

Adjusting was hard. She'd gone from having her favourite people never more than an arm's length away, to having them ripped away and having to go cold turkey. Lord Malak strictly forbade her from returning for any reason other than receiving medical attention. Even he seemed to find the situation regrettable, with pity somehow visible in his dark eyes. It had been the one and only time Ellie had seem a soft side of him, giving her a brief, awkward side hug before leaving after dropping her off at the hotel. Deep down, she knew he was right to separate her from the Reaper Nurses. Here, she could learn how to properly serve her Lord and not get in the way.

It got better over time. She busied herself with learning how to wield blades and practising with the monkeys. It took time, but she soon developed an impressive level of skill. Not being a very vocal breed, the monkeys learned to follow her sound when she yapped, and would soon find themselves surrounding intruders from all directions, with Ellie hot on mortals' tracks to corral them into the waiting knives, lightweight and agile on her feet. She never forgot her nurses, but she learned to live with the grief.

[govindhtech]

Baldur’s Gate 3: Launch Epic Adventures with ROG Ally

Baldur’s Gate 3 on ROG Ally: Performance Guide & Best Settings

What framerate Baldur’s Gate 3 players on the ROG Ally can expect

While you may play Baldur’s Gate 3 on the lowest settings and call it a day, there are a few options you can increase for an observable improvement in graphical quality without significantly degrading performance. The early game hung about 45 FPS on the low end and just under 60 FPS during fighting at 1080p with FSR set to Quality and the Ally in its 25W Turbo mode.link here

Due to the game’s namesake city and its lively populace, the later stages of the plot utilise a lot more CPU, but we discovered that it rarely dropped below 30 FPS with our settings, making for a perfectly playable adventure in Faerûn, especially given that BG3 is a turn-based game.

For the ROG Ally, Baldur’s Gate 3’s graphical settings were optimised

Here are the settings we advise using on the ROG Ally,Baldur’s Gate 3 to achieve the ideal blend of performance and graphical fidelity:

Resolution: The ROG Ally’s display’s native resolution of 1920 x 1080.

DX 11 graphics API. Although some PCs may perform better with one graphics API over another, the ROG Ally Baldur’s Gate 3 benefits more from using DirectX 11.

1.0 AMD FSR: High calibre. Before scaling the image to the native resolution of your display, AMD’s FidelidyFX Super Resolution, or FSR, generates the visuals at a reduced resolution. Compared to running the game at a reduced resolution, this enhances performance while keeping higher image quality. We advise using Quality mode.

Low model quality. The geometric complexity of objects, especially those in the distance, is adjusted by this parameter. However, turning it up will result in a substantial performance hit, therefore we advise against it. Low unless you really hate texture pop-in more than the other performance-intensive settings on this list.

Medium shadow quality. Like in many games, Baldur’s Gate 3 Shadow Quality, which has a high performance cost but also has a high visual impact, controls the sharpness and stability of shadows. Since Medium offers the best value for your money and only degrades performance by a small percentage while enhancing visuals significantly, we recommend it. You can turn it up a notch, but you’ll have to forfeit a lot more frames in exchange.

High cloud quality. Though the clouds look beautiful at higher settings, there aren’t many places in the game where you’ll actually see them, and even then, this setting doesn’t seem to have a significant performance impact. With High, you can’t go wrong.

Ultra High Texture Quality. The degree of detail of textures, such as those on clothing, walls, and other objects, depends on the texture quality. Although it isn’t nearly as VRAM-hungry as many games, it has a significant impact on graphic quality and is mostly limited by VRAM. Medium is probably best with the Ally’s default settings, however we discovered Ultra to perform and look amazing with the Ally’s VRAM allotment set to 6GB.

Anisotropic X4 texture filtering. Similar to texture quality, texture filtering has a significant impact on visuals; therefore, for a visible improvement, I advise setting it to at least X4.

Low instance distance. We advise leaving this set to Low because it affects the draw distance of some objects, like grass, and can affect performance, especially when CPU-bound.

Low fog quality. The resolution and calibre of the volumetric effects are controlled by this option. Higher settings do add a little bit of definition, but it’s difficult to tell, especially on a small screen, and Low offers the greatest performance.

High detail separation. You should be able to utilise High safely because this has a minimal influence on performance and only impacts the view distance of small items.

Low level of detail in the animation. This may have an impact on CPU utilisation, which in busy game sections (like Act 3) is the primary bottleneck. Therefore, we advise setting it to Low.

TAA, or anti-aliasing. TAA, or temporal anti-aliasing, cleverly minimises shimmering and jagged edges by using numerous frames. The boost in image quality comes at a slight cost to GPU speed, especially when utilising FSR.

On for ambient occlusion. Small shadows are added by ambient occlusion in the intersections of two objects. Even though this setting has a slight negative impact on GPU performance, it is essential for providing the world with visual depth, so I strongly advise keeping it on.

Circular depth of field. When the camera is focused on anything close by, such as a character’s face during a dialogue, depth of field distorts the background of the picture. Although it can be turned off for the optimum performance, we left it on for our tests because it has a lovely effect.

Quality of Depth of Field: quarter. On the Ally’s little screen, Quarter looks almost as good as Quarter + Denoise and performs better.

God Rays are on. When light enters an opening, this adds illumination to fog or other particles but doesn’t appear to have a significant impact on performance. Therefore, we advise leaving it on.

In bloom. Though you can adjust it to your own preferences, we think this post-processing effect looks excellent.

Off for subsurface scattering. The lighting for things like character faces is barely impacted by this. We decided to keep it off for the performance gain because of how subtle it is.

Off for Slow HDD Mode. Since the Ally has a lightning-fast PCIe SSD, we can turn off this feature even though it enhances speed on older spinning hard drives.

Off for dynamic crowds. Thankfully, turning this off doesn’t significantly reduce immersion and is necessary to achieve respectable framerates in Act 3.

Read more on Govindhtech.com