#bashing my brain with hammers!

[rocketbirdie]

please don't go. if i lose you then there won't be anything left of me

[wuntrum]

soooo artistically frustrated rn because i want to make big and cool things but i keep getting wrapped up in the big picture and the micro details simultaneously and not. actually making what i want to make. blegh

[tirednapentity]

if anyone ever accuses me of being fake or insincere I wouldn't even be mad I would just be confused. do you earnestly think I would choose to act this way? hell no!

[marpai17]

Love, love, love it so when my body decides I shan't be allowed sleep unless I pull an all-nighter. Thanks, me; very cool. I am forced to suffer, dragging my body here or there (to the bathroom, or the kitchen, and then back to my bedroom), feeling like a dug-up corpse. So I might (might) be able to rest awhile and wake at a reasonable hour... and do it all over again the day next.

any grammatical errors can be attributed to the fact my brain has begun to sprout mold. A most ideal environment for growing worms.

[stpansy]

getting the looming feeling someone hates you because they responded to you with periods is literally insane given that it’s just proper grammar however. well. i guess i’m crazy

[mayoiayasep]

:/

[validark]

My head fucking hurts so bad :(

[writing-dilemmas]

depression fucking sucks because why is there nothing wrong with my life, but I literally cannot get out of bed right now

[konoheya]

naruto men that would unironically call you pookie !

naruto, obito, kiba + honorable mentions for sai & gara !

naruto uzumaki: heard kiba use it when referring to his partner a few times and it was jokingly tossed around when they went out for drinks one friday night. filled with liquor courage and newfound knowledge, he slammed the door to your apartment open like he owned the place, before his squinted eyes focused on you. he announced his presence with a loud “HEY POOKIE!” and attacked you with a million kisses and curious fingers that quickly snuck under your pajama pants. you’re confused, but naruto is being so gentle yet firm as he kisses you that it’s easy to forget that he just came home hammered and with an awkward nickname for you that’s just so him. two minutes later he passed out face down on your bed, all sticky and warm from drinking.

wakes up the next day like nothing happened and greets you with a hungover “morning, pookie..”, before he tries to unsuccessfully manipulate you into cuddling for another hour. doesn’t let the nickname go even after 20 years of marriage and three kids.

obito uchiha: he suffers from stupid simp man disease and it’s terminal. when he was being cocky and bragging about how amazing and kind and brave you are to kakashi, it slipped. “my pookie-“ and he freezes up like a deer in headlights. obito has never called you pookie before, well- not in public at least! it sends him into a stuttering frenzy as he tries to explain himself to a rather confused kakashi (bless his heart, he thought pookie was exclusively used in icha-icha). when obito unsuccessfully explains himself, teasing ensues. the uchiha comes home all sullen with his shoulders slumped and wraps his arms around you from behind, hiding his face in your hair. you can tell how embarrassed he is based on how warm his cheeks are- he must be blushing. obito is the most irresistible when he’s so open with his emotions, courageously confessing that he adores you or shyly asking for a kiss, which is why it’s almost impossible to not tease him when he’s this vulnerable.

“everything okay? you seem down today, loverboy.”

he grumbles in response.

“obito? use some words please?”

“… it’s nothing.”

and when his brain adds the dreaded ‘pookie’ to the end of his sentence, obito knows he has to confess his sins to you before kakashi spills the beans and asks you what embarrassing nicknames (plural!) you use for him.

kiba inuzuka: yet another victim of the stupid simp man disease. of course he uses pookie on a daily basis. what’s for dinner, pookie? you ass looks great today, pookie. gimmie a kiss, pookie! kiba has no clue where he heard the pet name, but he looooves it, so much so that he overuses it. he sometimes goes for unbearable variations of it that he is certain will irritate you; kiba says them with the most annoyingly flirty smirk you’ve ever seen (pookums, pookie-bear, pookie-wookie if he wants you to groan and roll your eyes). overall, his main goal is to fluster you in any way he can. can you blame a man who desperately wants to see you red and bashful, clinging to him and asking him to stop because you’re in public and people are staring? god, you’re too cute when you whine about how mean he is being. but he can’t help it! people need to know you’re his and only his, pookie!

this is where his cuteness agression shows- he just wants to squeeze you in his beefy arms and never let go when you’re like this!

the only way to get him to stop is to return the favor- call him a nickname that’s equally as cheesy and stupid, if you can think of one that is. kiba can get very creative and isn’t afraid to humiliate himself a bit if that means that you’ll blush ten times harder than before.

sai and gaara would suffer the same fate- two socially awkward guys who read/heard somewhere that nicknames are a good way to make friends.

sai has liked you for a while and wanted to tell you, but the books he read all said the same thing- hinting at your crush is the way to go. why tell the person directly, when you can make it unnecessarily complicated? and so one day when sai was supposed to meet up with sakura and you, he decided to greet you with a wave, a confident “hello, pookie” and the most polite smile you’ve ever seen. sakura was giving sai an earful about how it’s inappropriate to use pet names he gave you in private in front of your friends, and you were on the verge of passing out from how genuine sai sounded. if you replayed the moment enough times in your head, you could catch the glimmer of pure affection in his voice that tugged at your heartstrings.

gaara had a similar situation, except it was kankuro who put the nail in the coffin and convinced him that calling you pookie was the way to your heart. poor man decided to test that theory when you came in with a report later that afternoon, bruised, dirty and disheveled from the mission you were sent on. as you handed him the papers, you could hear a gara mutter a small “thank you, um… pookie.”

you almost combusted when he tilted his head in confusion, looking extremely endearing as he observed your flustered reaction. was i successful?, he thought as he watched you stutter out questions regarding the nickname with warmed cheeks.

[ell-does-stuff]

MAKING A BIG OL POST OF EVERYTHING I GOTTA SAY ABOUT THE NEW SPOOKY MONTH BECAUSE HOLY SHITTTT THERES A LOT

‼️‼️SPOILERS OBVIOUSLY‼️‼️

THE THIEVES ARE BACK WOOOOOOOO!! IVE MISSED THEM SM

also eepy lila

while gathering images for this ive noticed that the "pile of dexter" as im calling it is staring at the thieves the whole time they're in the attic (specifically fat thief)

is he somehow still alive???? just possessing a pile of dead doll????????

so cool to see the big ass spider get some actual relevance!! def gonna be important next episode for sure

ROSS'S DAD!!!!!!!!

also jaune is so pretty with her hair down like omggg... love to see her being such a supportive friend to lila as well

"are you throwing away dad's stuff mom?" WAAAAAA MY POOR BABYYY IM GONNA CRYYY

HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN

theyre so me

DEXTERRRRJRJRJRHSHSHDBBDBSB!!+!!!!!(!!

"this cat looks sick im taking it to the vet" BULLSHIT i know what you are. 👁️👁️

DEXTER'S MOM!?!?????!?!?!?!?!!!??? i had no idea she would ever show up like wow i did not expect to see her at all

poor little babies and their lack of parents

ok sorry ik im joking here but MAN this scene made me feel bad 😭😭😭

THE FUCK.

pretty sure this dude is the same guy as the "costume bob" in the last episode??? i felt bad for him last time but here he seems like kind of a pathetic and weird ass man ngl lol

RADFORRRRRRDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!(!!(;+;!;(;;(;??;(;;!!(+!!++!(++!

HES SUCH A GOD DAMN SILLY NERD MAN LIKEEEEE "he even sounds like he does in the movies!!!!!!" BROOOO I LOVE HIMMMMMMMMMM DJJDGWHDHSHFH

he is EXACTLY how i pictured he would be!! my brain is not gonna shut up about him for the next few days i just know it HAHAHAH

also my caramelpopcorn (thats their ship name right?? or was it candycorn??? i forgor lol) heart is completely full, i loved actually seeing him and kevin canonically interact, they are perfect <3

HES IN THE CANDY CLUB OUTFIRTBD RJSHNF EBDJFBSBDJC EJDUFBEBW DKXN SCUEBFNFBRJSJCJCHDB!!!!(!!!!!;+;(;!!(+!!

"im... uh... like an uncle!!" "i just wanna help the children..." BROO??? feeling kinda bad for frank rn, these are like the only kids he genuinely cares about and hes being turned away from em

ik hes a shady guy but STILL

GREGOR LOOKS SO GOOFY DOING THE DANCE JDBDHSHFHD LIKE WHY DOES HE LOOK LIKE THATTTTT

also i made this gif myself yall better like it

aaaaaaaaaand dexter's mom is dead.

like son like mother i guess 💀

love how ignacio's door has small little boards on it from when they bashed it with a hammer HAHAHHA

also, looking at the inside of ignacio's house, is that john's family on the little table there???

one of the images in the arg gives a better look at this, but i had no idea it was in IGNACIO'S HOUSE of all places. why does he have that??? and right by the gun too.... what is this silly cult man planning......

(the arg image in question if yall were wondering)

"we understand you" "we're here for you dude" "thank you guys, i just wish things weren't so..." HATZGANG FRIENDSHIP WAAAAA!!!!!

also ROY HAS BEEN THROUGH SHIT MY POOR GUYYYY i wanna hug him mannnn 🥺

IMAGE LIMIT IS KILLING ME SO IM GONNA REBLOG THIS WITH MORE SHIT TO SAY BECAUSE I AM NOT DONE MANNN‼️‼️‼️‼️

[nectardaddy]

monsters - yuuta okkotsu

cw: language, blood, death, human remains, killer + non curse au, dark themes/humor, graphic descriptions(!!)

notes: heavily inspired by the book butcher and blackbird by brynne weaver, I genuinely loved writing this and might do another, butcher and blackbird has a chokehold on me

Yuuta Okkotsu was a sick man, a morbid man, one who's dark eyes didn't flicker or hesitate at the sight of the macabre. A man who was, quite genuinely, damned. A damned man with even sicker, more twisted, thoughts than your own that rattled his brain. But no one was the wiser of a man with a sweet smile, a sickly sweetness that oozed and melted hearts. He was so sinister, but so- peculiarly normal. A normality he practiced and honed; sure, the oddities slipped through every now and then, but he was quick to brush it off with a gentle laugh. A laugh that was charming, a tender sound, until it wasn't.

It was never a question on if you could love the monster of a man, it was when you would.

"You killed that man-" you began, voice soft against the chirps of crickets amongst you. "For me?" The air was thick and hot, humidity sticking to your skin as your limbs were slicked with sweat. An iron twinge in the air made you grimace, and you eyes met with the man, who now, had blood coated clothes.

"You're surprised?" He asked, eyes forward as he hunched over the body of a man - if you could call it as much anymore. He was a formidable, wicked, man, one who found himself splayed on the ground. Eyes sunken and blood pooling around his head, never to see such beautiful light of the earth again.

"I said I had it," you countered, a snap to your tone that made dark eyes flicker towards you. Not dodging his question as eloquently as you had hoped, you suddenly felt all too small under his eye.

"You didn't." A tone to match your own, as he rose with a small sigh. Looking over himself, seemingly annoyed he had to get himself so gruesome and bloodied. "Obviously."

"You didn't let-" But his eyes locking with your own made your breath hitch, swallowing hard as you desperately searched to fill your lungs. You hated that the man before you had such a loathsome effect on you; face flushing and breath stolen as if he were a middle school crush. "I could've done it myself," you doubled down.

A hammer in his hand, drenched in gore, was dropped amongst the grass as he took a step towards you. But the moments flashed before your mind quickly: you had the hammer first, swinging with a force to be reckoned with, then suddenly you didn't. You didn't realize, before it was too late, the doomed man had opposed you. "You would've been bludgeoned to death," he quipped. "Dear," he tacked on as his pale lips pulled to a sickly smile.

This wasn't his first slaying, nor would it be his last. Wielding a hammer as if it were a sword, becoming a knight in shining armor as he spilled blood for you. He was a mad man, a delirious one who considered bashing a sport - he didn't consider it entertaining, he found it thrilling. Passionate and wistful - it made you weak at the knees. But you were just as demented as he, if not more in the erratic department. It was miles from normal, but was normality anyway?

"Ugh-," you began, rolling your eyes as you watched the man before you slip back into his façade. "Don't 'dear' me, Yuuta," you retorted. "The only man I'm scared of out here, is you. Not that fucker," motioning towards the corpse as your eyes met his again. "You got in my way, I would've been fine."

"That's a compliment coming from you," he mused, tilting his head in what seemed like amusement. "Is that why you haven't killed me yet?" He asked rhetorically, dodging the conversation effortlessly as you failed to do so earlier. "No," he answered himself. "You're not scared of snapping my neck like a twig, you're scared of something else."

His tone made you want to vomit, so eerily sweet and candy coated, until it went sour, it felt wrong - it was wrong. It was wrong to act so apathetic in front of the dead, even more so when it teetered on flirting. "Don't start," you warned, but your mind urged him to keep going.

"Start what?" He asked innocently, juxtaposing himself as his clothes were splattered with blood. Inwardly kicking yourself at the thought of damn he looks good in red. The man knew what he was doing with his words, and he knew all too well as he took another step closer to you.

"You know what," your tone never faltering even though it desperately wanted to crack. "Maybe I should kill you," you suggested. But you couldn't do that, you could never do that; how could you possibly want to? He was so intriguing, so pretty, so daringly risqué it bordered obscurity - and fuck, he looked so good in red. There was no reason a man of his nature should look charming at all, no more so covered in blood. Delicate spatters coating his jacket and creeping towards his face, speckles of the liquid dancing on his cheeks like freckles.

"Probably right," he shrugged, a bit too mellow. Yuuta was odd, a strange man with strange tastes, as he wholeheartedly agreed with you that maybe you should kill him. "But then, how would you to fall in love with me?" Good lord, did that really come out of his mouth? "Dear."

If you hadn't already fallen so deep, maybe you wouldn't have come out with him tonight. But he didn't need to know that, he wasn't on a need to know basis with the the inner workings of your mind. However fractured, grotesque, and possibly similar it was to his own, he didn't need to know. He probably didn't want to know. "This again?" You asked, "god- you've completely lost it, Yuuta." You countered, contradicting your own thoughts. It was strange how you had the confidence and nerve to kill, but not to admit one's own feelings. It was easier to take a life than give your own.

"Kill me then." He proposed, crossing strong, filthy arms over his chest, a syrupy smile hanging from his lips. He was all too chipper about the interaction, dark eyes telling you he knew entirely more than he let on. A small, dainty, hum left his lips from your lack of action. Too confused, outwardly a bit disturbed by his choice words, to act, you only stared. "There it is," he mused, a whimsy in his low voice that made you shudder. "You can't, can you?"

A bit too giddy, and a screw loose in his mind, he took another step towards you. "I knew you had a heart in there somewhere," now only a few feet away from you, you couldn't stop your mind from racing. Somehow, in your own twisted mind, you found the man utterly breathtaking. Handsome, adorned in another's blood, with dark, tired eyes piercing you like a knife, and an, oh so, saccharine smile. "I just killed a man for you," he quipped, watching as his thought process shifted directions with ease. "With a hammer," he added, "all because I thought he'd hurt you."

"How romantic," you breathed, voice laced with a twinge of sarcasm. "A crime of passion."

"Isn't it?" He reveled, taking another step. It was a closeness you expected from the man, as he so often toed the line of boundaries. Because what boundaries could exist within one capable of taking another life? Little to none. Another stride, one more and he would be completely on top of you. "It felt-" you watched him pause, hovering over words in his mind as his eyes refused to leave yours. "Nice."

You couldn't decide whether to feel horrified, or unceremoniously flattered. But as his blood coated hand reached out for your cheek, all thoughts ceased. The warmth of his hand, and the liquid that covered it made you tremble underneath it. Oh, you were in deep. "I would do it again, y'know?"

If you hadn't convinced yourself otherwise now, there was no hope left. You were doomed to fall for the murderous man before you - if you hadn't already.

[8-dermestid]

toby +inventory

drawing about my fic as i write it, heres some descriptions abt toby’s things under the read more…

- Marlboro Reds: Cigarettes have antipsychotic effects bc they are depressants, and Toby experiences rlly vivid hallucinations from time to time, so he snags any cigarettes he can off of any of his victims.

- Hunting Knife: Not only does Toby have his hatchets, he also carries a knife around for closer encounters. He uses it to bash in his victims jaws to take their teeth (leaving no dental records, making it harder to identify them)

- CD Player + Headphones: This one’s really special, one of Toby’s most cherished items. He stole the player from someone’s car, then dug around in a Radioshack dumpster for CDs. He burned his favorite songs onto the CDs using a library computer.

- Bag of Teeth: No dental records means less of a chance his victims get identified. It also means Toby can start a little collection from the teeth that come out in one piece.

- Hammer: Similar to the knife, Toby stole a hammer so he can smash in a victim’s brains like cattle in the slaughterhouse.

- (Not Pictured) Thermos: Usually holds water, but sometimes he wished it were full of hot soup.

- Duffle Bag: Nobody in the mansion knows what his plans are. Toby can be a tad impulsive, but nobody has discovered his duffle bag, nor his plans to leave.

[scaredy-katts]

a t t r i t i o n

karim flam | masterlist | prologue

genesis

cw/notes: mdni/nsfw, this one is just suggestive, talk of sex, language, religion, they're literally in a confessional so, sacrilegious acts/talk, butchered script of a confessional oops, concept of sin/what's "good and evil" through the lens of religion, this fic is pushing my limits as a writer and I'm kind of here for it, written in karim's pov

-> opening hymn. . .angel of small death

"Látom."

Said in unison, but he swallowed hard upon hearing the voice on the opposite side of the curtain.

“Bless me, for I have sinned. . ."

That voice, fuck, he knew that voice.

Sinful and razor sharp, making his breath hitch in his throat from a mere sentence. A voice that brought wicked thoughts and depraved actions into their confessions; everything rotten and debauched within every thread of reconciliation. A familiarity within the cadence and tone, he felt his heart sink right down to his stomach. A feeling that festered, long since over due to bubbling over, that he pushed down even harder; shoving down any prior thought he had with a force that could kill - to maim. 

“It's been a month since my last confession. These are my sins. . .”

Everything about this was wrong.

He had an ever growing feeling that the woman on the other side of the curtain knew that. Divulging lustful coated sins within a saccharine breath, erotic details that had no such business within a holy place. Acutely aware of the smirk that hung on her lips with every sin confessed - he heard it. He could feel it. Hitting him right in the stomach and bringing him crashing down with every syllable that left her upturned lips. Every righteous thought hammered into the very fiber of his soul screamed at him that this was wrong; this was evil.

". . .I seem to have an issue with lust of the flesh. . ."

He should stop this.

He grabbed at the thick black fabric of his pants, just above the knee, in hopes to center himself and pull himself back. To not let his thoughts wander again - to not sin again. But he listened all too attentively, hanging on every single word, every so called confession, that left her lips.

He didn't want to stop this.

". . .you're the same priest as last time, aren't you?"

Interrupting her own confession, interrupting every thought he had of remaining calm and collected. Interrupting the bashing of memorized scriptures in his mind, as he repeated them over and over and over as she spoke.

"Yes." A nearly breathless reply. Furthering him to clasp the black fabric tighter, white knuckling the seams with sweat slicked hands, and clench his jaw.

He heard a hum.

"Good."

He wanted to wretch, the amusement in a single word made him nauseous. He didn't know a word to have such a dreadful effect; an effect that made him grit his teeth from the desire filled tone that swallowed the word whole. Screwing his eyes shut as to not further himself astray. Sin filled thoughts already creeping into his mind that he took with an iron grip and forced to the deepest parts of his mind; he prayed they would never surface again.

He was a righteous man, a holy man, one of which shouldn't dare entertain even the mere idea of such wicked actions. But the moral sin of desire was a treacherous one to fall to; falling to his knees in attrition - such false repentance - as the stain of lust was his only folly.

"Now make a good act of contrition." Uttered through gritted teeth and closed eyes, following a script within the caverns of his mind. He heard another hum and felt his resolve start to crumble at his feet.

"I firmly intend, with Sol's help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin."

No you won't, is what he wished to say. He instead took a deep breath and held it, pausing a moment as he wracked his brain of another prayer. The only salvation in the moment being she would leave soon, to leave him a mess of a man - but righteous nonetheless.

"Aren't you going to pray for me? Tell me my sins are forgiven?"

Dammit.

"I absolve you from your sins," spoken in a single breath. Forced through his teeth, knowing forgiveness meant nothing to the woman beyond the curtain - she didn't care. "Látom." Cleansing heinous actions, disgraceful words, and his own mind within a single word.

"Látom."

"Go in peace."

"I have every intention to. Thanks be to Sol."

He felt his breath return to him once he heard her leave; nearly out of breath as he filled his lungs with air. Putting his head in his hands and letting put a groan.

"God forgive me for thinking such things."

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

Did You Freaking Forget You Have A Daughter Cares About Whether You Stay Or Go?

Seriously, I do not like how much this man is putting romance on a pedestal. And these are for the same demographic who bash straight stories generalizing they do the same but I see a lot of it in queer media like this. They put romance over platonic and familial relationships. I don't care how much you try to shove it down my throat he's a "good" father to make him likable he has an unhealthy obsession with finding romantic love that he devalues his relationship with his daughter.

Time and again she really feels her daughter would run out on her if it meant making himself happy while leaving her behind. And at the beginning I thought it was unfounded, but overtime I think Stolas would selfishly throw his daughter away while justifying it and even says he still loves her. Because the guy can't admit he's hurt people and has to always make himself out to be the victim in everything even as people pay for his actions. I don't care if you had a bad marriage life you should think about putting your daughter before even finding a love life because you really can't keep a relationship if it could save your life, bird brain.

Seriously, it shows again how much Stolas and the narrative devalue his relationship with his daughter and it's just a tool to make sympathy for him. The only thing they want to hammer on is that he deserves and is entitled to be romantically loved despite not earning it. And in the future episode, it's no wonder his daughter wants to cut ties because he takes her for granted and excuses why he's being shit with her to pursue what he thinks is the love of his life.

[rainrot4me]

Oh gods. Oh gods. 

I’m quite new to tumblr, and I just stumbled across your blog. I’ve never really read fanfics or had interest in them, same thing goes for creepypastas. “Why would someone be attracted to that?” “That’s so weird,” etc., etc. 

I’ve been scrolling through your blog for an hour and a half now. I was so, so foolish. Your stupid little fabrications have bashed a hole in my skull with a hammer and broken into my brain, and I think I might be enjoying it. Send help. 

YESSSS WELCOME TO THE DARK SIDEEEE

I promise, you’ll never find anything else like creepypasta fics or media, it’s something else: be that good or bad

But I’m soooooo glad you’re enjoying, LOVE THAT FOR YOUUUUUUUUU 😘😘😘😘😘😘

[orphiceonian]

˗ˏˋSILVERV WEEK: FIRST TOUCH´ˎ˗

read on ao3

written for @silverv-week // suggestive themes

It starts off slow, as if he’s scared he’ll somehow break her.

He tangles his fingers in her hair and drags his metal fingers over the material of her shirt, careful not to let steel touch skin.

A warm static hums between them—a feedback loop between human and an engram that makes this ghostly touch possible.

V vaguely knows how to explain it—haptic sensors she pulled from an old BD halo and repurposed to create a sensation that her brain recognises and responds to.

She had started to explain the details to Johnny but he had rolled his eyes, affectionately telling her to shut up.

Explain the details after I’ve touched you.

V looks at him, studying the complicated emotions written over his artificial face. His lips are parted slightly, breaths steady but hitching on occasion in sync with her’s.

“Not gonna break if you touch my skin.” V laughs softly, locking eyes with him. It’s amusing how gentle he is being with her. She’s seen his memories and experienced the full body ache that came with one of his renowned benders.

“Don’t wanna fry your gonk brain.” He grumbles, voice tinged by its usual static.

V can’t help but let out a small laugh, “Not like you to be worried about the health of my brain.” Her words are light, a teasing affection behind them.

His touch stills for a moment and he lifts his eyes to meet hers. She gets lost in his eyes for longer than she’d admit out loud. Dark inky pools heavy with sleep and looking at her with reverence. She sees the worry in them, the same look of worry she sees when the relic malfunctions.

“We’ll be okay…” She whispers to him. She’s not entirely sure if they will be. The relic is uncharted territory and she’s unsure how the relic would respond to the sensation of skin on skin.

They both take a breath—in sync with one another as the anticipation builds. It feels like the split second of quiet before a fight begins—the moment just before the hammer hits the bullet and sends a casing of lead flying through the chamber.

Another hitch of their breaths.

His organic hand grazes her arm.

At first there was nothing. No sensation—nothing to indicate him touching her.

Then…

Everything.

His touch feels like a bolt of lightning dancing across her skin. She feels gasp caught in the back of her throat as he lets his fingers settle on her skin. V bites down on her lip, not wanting to let the sound spill out—embarrassed at the thought of gasping into empty air.

Johnny shifts his hands down to her forearm and drags his thumb over the intended lines that map out the cyberware nesting underneath her skin. The lines are sensitive; always have been—a side from the synthetic nerves that meld with the organic ones. A gasp slips past her lips and into the empty air in front of her.

“There we go.”

She hears his smirk before she sees it. Hears the sultry tone of his voice and the slight rasp in it. V feels the burning hot blush crawl over her skin—the heat pooling in her stomach as he traces the skin around her personal link.

His hand trails lower and she reaches out to grab him. Her hand connects with his and electricity passes through her body, systems nearly short circuiting at the sensation of actually touching him.

Up until now, their touch had been dictated by agony. That first night they had met and he had bashed her head into the window and thrown her to the floor. When the relic tore through her body and the only thing she felt other than pain was his ghostly hands touching her.

V lets go of his hand and takes a short breath, “Just…not yet.” She breathes and looks up at him.

He nods, “Next time then?” That same smirk is on his lips again. That teasing, cocky, rockstar smirk of his.

“Might have to tweak the sensors a bit. Sensations aren’t synced up just yet—” She mutters, nervous energy bubbling up around her words.

A gentle touch on her cheek stops her mid sentence. His hand is cupped around her cheek, thumb gently stroking the scar-like pattern of her EMP threading.

They are so close and she can feel it. His breath on her skin, the static hum that vibrates between them and the sound of his artificial heartbeat echoes in her ears.

Without thinking, she closes the gap between them, lips brushing against his and fingers tangling themselves through his hair.

It takes a moment for the feeling to reach her brain and another moment for it to register that he is kissing her back.

Their kiss is not perfect but any stretch. It’s messy and breathless as they navigate the strange glitching sensations arcing off them.

“Thought you said not yet?” He speaks between kisses, that damned smirk still lingering on his lips.

It’s her turn to affectionately tell him to shut up.