#it’s just not the same as it used to be

[terrestrialnoob]

Gut Feeling

DPXDC

Commissioner Jim Gordon meets an odd kid in the precinct.

--

“Come on, you really don’t have a way to directly contact Batman?”

Jim smiled. Kids came to the station and asked that all the time. Usually, it was just curiosity and showing them the signal was enough to get them to sign up for the Junior Police program. This one looked a little older than most, teenagers were often “too old” to believe in Batman, but again, give them a little faith now and they’ll never loose it.

“Lookin’ for the Bat, kid?” Jim asked, knowing he was about to make this kid’s –

Jim froze. The kid turned to face him and it was Bruce Wayne. Not playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne, but freshly a teenager Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne who Jim had checked in on time and again from age eight until he ran off on a globetrotting trip to find himself. The little Bruce Wayne with too pale skin and dark bags under his eyes, and not enough love to make up for all the grief weighing him down. And he didn’t look like Damian either, where Bruce was obviously his father but there were distinct traits from his mother. This was a carbon copy of a boy Jim remembered vividly.

“I am.” He even sounded like teenage Bruce. All business, like he was on a mission.

“I might be able to help you, but it’ll take a while.” Jim said and the officer the kid had been talking too gave him an odd look. He waved her off and told the kid to follow him to the commissioner’s office. Normally, he’d be more dramatic, put on more of a show for the kid, but his gut told him this was different, this was important. He offered the kid a styrofoam cup of water then closed the door behind him. “So, what do you need to talk to Batman for?”

“It’s personal. I need to talk to him in person.”

Jim took a sip of coffee from his cup. “He doesn’t appreciate me calling for no reason in the middle of the day.”

“So you do have a direct line?” The kid nearly jumped out of his seat. “If he’s upset, it’ll be my fault, just call him, please.”

“Who should I say wants to talk to him?”

The kid hesitated. “He doesn’t know me, but I have to talk to him.”

Jim frowned. “What’s your name, kid?”

He swallowed and looked like he wasn’t going to answer for a moment. “Danny.”

“Danny…?” Jim wanted a last name but Danny kept quiet. Jim sighed, “He’s likely not going to show up until sundown.”

“I can wait, as long as you guarantee he’ll show.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why you need Batman?” Jim just got a glare in response. “What about one of the other heroes?”

“Only Batman, no one else can help.”

“You sure about that? Not even Superman?”

“Not unless Superman can get me in the same room as Batman.”

“Why’s it so important that you meet him in person?”

“It’s personal.”

Jim liked this less and less by the minute. “Do your parents know you’re here?”

Danny looked away but right when it looked like he wouldn’t say anything he mumbled. “They wouldn’t care anyway.”

After another moment to give the kid time to reconsider, Jim pulled out the Bat-phone. It was a normal Wayne-Tech cell phone, but Jim had been given very specific instructions on how and when to use it. The phone listed all the Gotham Vigilantes without visible numbers so they couldn’t be copied and handed out. He pressed the one for Batman.

“Stand outside, would you?” The kid gave him a look, but followed the request. Jim could see his shadow in the door’s window, not so subtle eavesdropping.

It rang a few times, and Jim sat there awkwardly with a teenager listening to his every move. Finally, a familiar voice picked up the other end of the line. “Commissioner Gordon.”

“Sorry to call you out of the blue Batman, but I’ve got a kid here who needs your help.”

“Who?”

“Says his name is Danny, that you’ve never met him but you’re the only one who can help him.”

“Why?”

“Refuses to tell me.”

“What’s your best guess, Commissioner?”

Jim looked at Danny’s shadow, it looked like he was straining his ears to try and hear what he was saying. Danny had given him almost nothing to work with. Just his name, that he’s never met Batman but needs to talk with him in person. But Jim was here because he listened to his gut. A feeling like when you see a random rock on your neighbor’s doorstep but you’d never go in without an invitation. A feeling like you know what’s in the present and are preparing your surprised face. A feeling like when you cheated on your wife and you know she knows.

“He looks like Bruce Wayne.”

A beat of silence. “What?”

“Danny looks exactly like Bruce when he was a teenager. Exactly the same.” Jim hoped Batman would get it, feel in his gut what Jim felt.

“And he wont say why he’s there?”

“No, and he demands to see you in person.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“10-4.” The line cut off before Jim had finished saying it. He called Danny in again. “He’s on his way.”

Danny glared at him. “If he’s not, if you called some social worker or something, you’ll regret it.”

“I’m sure.” Jim sighed and downed the rest of his now cold coffee.

The sun hadn’t set, but only just barely. Jim ended up taking Danny up to the roof in the end after all, if only to save his window from being broken into. The kid had a red hoodie on, but he was still shivering in the autumn chill and it was just going to get colder by the minute as the sun made its way behind the horizon.

Jim checked his watch and, at exactly an hour from when he called, he acted surprised when Batman and Robin appeared out of nowhere. “Bats.”

“Commissioner.” Batman greeted but his eyes went straight for Danny. “Danny, I assume.”

“Yeah, I…” Danny hesitated, looking at Jim and Robin.

All it took was four words from Batman. “What do you need?”

The kid held out his hand with a flash drive in it. “I’m your clone. My par- The people who made me wanted to make a stronger version of you, but they got ahead of themselves. My DNA is degrading and I’ll die if I don’t get your DNA to stabilize me.”

Holy cow.

“You don’t expect us to believe that, do you?” Robin sneered at him.

“The flash drive has all the info on it. All the data about the cloning process and the, uh, relevant experiments after that.” Batman gave the kid a look. “I didn’t want to waste time on unnecessary data.”

“If what you’re saying is true, why are you here, alone? Are they working on a different solution?”

Danny’s shoulders hiked up. “I’ve been a failure for a while now, I’m not worth the resources and they’d learn more from an autopsy.”

Oof, kid. Jim looked at Batman who seemed to feel the same… if Jim was reading him right.

“So, you wont object to a DNA test?” Robin asked with a cocky head tilt, at least he was relatively easy to read.

“You can try.” Danny said, and then realized what that sounded like. “I mean I wont stop you, but my DNA degrades faster outside my body. You’ll have to take me to whatever lab you plan on using.”

“Then we will.” Batman said and jerked his head towards where they’d probably parked that ridiculous car of his. But then he looked at Jim with a nod. “Commissioner.”

“Batman.” Jim returned the nod. “You’ll tell me how things turn out, yeah?”

“I’ll give you a report.” Batman joked – Jim could tell, it was gut feeling.

[ms-demeanor]

Honestly it seems your issues with homeopathy would be mostly remedied if the practitioners were made to work with doctors, or had to get their own MD. Because most of them can definitely help when used properly, they just usually aren't 😬

I mean.

My issue with homeopathy specifically is that it does not work, it has no way of working, and people pay money for homeopathic "medicines" that could be spent on actual treatment and may delay starting actual treatment in favor of homeopathy.

Homeopathy is either "correctly" diluted and completely ineffective (because "correctly" made homeopathic preparations are so diluted that they don't contain any of the "curative" compounds) or are "incorrectly" diluted and are literally poison.

There are plenty of shitty MDs out there who will recommend homeopathic "medicines" or other quackery; what I would prefer is if the claims made about homeopathic medicines were examined by the FDA or similar bodies for veracity before they could be sold and if they were otherwise subject to the same kinds of regulatory scrutiny as, like, aspirin manufacturers are.

If anyone wants a basic explanation of why homeopathy doesn't work, here's an ELI5 reddit thread about the question; in particular, here's a comment by someone defending homeopathy that is comprehensively responded to with explanations of why the commenter defending homeopathy is wrong.

For more a more rigorous explanation, here is the European Academies' Science Advisory Council assessment of homeopathy; I particularly recommend looking at section three, "Key issues for evaluating and communicating evidence."

[tundrakatiebean]

I found out the tag limit is 30 on this post lmao anyway I had a very good year. I wish all of you so much good and light.

hey honest question, did anybody have GOOD stuff happen to them in 2024? cause it was really bad for me and for most people i know, so it would be nice to hear about anything that's been going WELL for any of you. even if it's small stuff. just to know there's light out there.

[wenclair-more-like-whenclair]

All it takes for a character to be interpreted as heterosexual is simply for the character to exist. A character can never kiss a member of the opposite gender, hook up with one, or show any signs of attraction and still be viewed as straight. Meanwhile, two members of the same gender can have the most intimate onscreen relationship, flirt, check each other out, show visible signs of being in love with the other, and somehow none of that is enough to even SUGGEST that they might be queer.

What a gross double standard. Sexuality is not “straight until proven otherwise” like so many believe it to be. Newsflash to all the straight normies out there, your favorite non labeled, sexuality unconfirmed character in your favorite show is NOT STRAIGHT just bc they haven’t been confirmed as queer. Use your fucking brains for once. It’s all about diving into media and picking up on subtext until that subtext suggests queerness. Then, suddenly, everyone loses their fucking ability to interpret a piece of media. Have you considered that: if all signs point to them being gay then maybe they actually really are just gay???

[rasoyas]

first project of the new year? committing to willow creek with the help of @inspiredsimmerx's fantastic builds and a familiar broke build

[discodyke-dogthing]

when did we go back to “misandry is real and men are an oppressed class”

why are trans women being made ashamed for not immediately trusting men and being wary of them because of their numerous past experiences with transmisogyny

like. a lot of the women that are accused of ""hating all men"" just had horrible experiences with a lot of them and now they don’t fully trust them because of it. all we ask is that men acknowledge their privilege, trans men included. transmascs having privilege over trans women is just a fact, not something to make them feel guilty and depressed and shit.

we do not ask that you profoundly apologize to us for being a man or some shit like that, we just want the simple acknowledgment that, due to the intersectionality of transness and misogyny, trans men have privilege over trans women. it’s the same as saying that white trans women have privilege over black trans women.

[drop-dead-dropout]

the year is 2022. I am currently in a residential treatment center. we are not allowed to have devices of any kind, so I write out fanfic on paper. one day staff lead guy calls me into his office and I see him holding the papers and I think "ohhh this is it I'm dead he totally read them didn't he?" except it was somehow worse than that. he hadn't read it yet, he'd just seen some cursing on the first page and wanted to tell me to either tone it down or not leave it out where everyone could see (they were weird about cursing there for some reason). I got to watch as he skimmed down the next page in real time right in front of my eyeballs. I got to watch as it dawned on him that I was not, in fact, writing a cute wholesome story that happened to have a couple swear words for emphasis. and it was absolutely hilarious. it was so funny it was like I had no shame left, I was too busy laughing even after he started loudly making fun of me to the rest of the unit. but anyways that guy sucked so I'm still not sorry

actually. the first sex scene i ever wrote scared me so bad that i immediately removed it from the story, saved it to a password protected word doc, which i then saved to a password protected file, which was then placed within a matryoshka doll of 32 other files with decoy folders and docx files spread throughout. and then i cried myself to sleep ebcause i thought god would kill me for it. all this for a vanilla paragraph long team fortress 2 handjob btw.

[iregularlyevadetaxes]

come on I JUST logged on

I looked into this https://www.yahoo.com/news/telegram-rape-chat-groups-70-142422399.html

when I first saw this headline I thought that reminds me of "the nth room" sex crime case in south korea, well reading the article it turns out it's essentially the same thing but on a global scale! what an activity to bond over. if you don't know the details of these situations and don't want to read further - it's chatroom discussing rape and torture methods and spreading pictures/videos raping women and girls. the korean chat room discovery resulted in conviction, but that's also due to the involvement of blackmailing and other cyber crimes.

and no, I don't think it's an issue with telegram. you know some of us grew up around men like this. it's easy to pretend the issue is one app, or this or that country, or deviant sexuality, but no, it is just a pure hatred for women. now I have my own theories on what particular life experiences lead to this particularly sexually sadistic manifestation of misogyny (I think it begins with a certain parental dynamic) but that's a whole other can of worms.

[thankskenpenders]

The mystery of that random magenta-haired Sonic woman: solved?

For almost three years now, there's been a little mystery in the Sonic franchise: who the hell is this lady?

Well, it seems like fans have collectively pieced together the answer. And it's more interesting than I expected.

For those who don't keep up with Sonic lore minutia like I do, this is a screenshot from the very first episode of TailsTube, released on YouTube back in March 2022. When Sonic and Tails were explaining the basics of their Earth and the fact that humans and anthropomorphic animals coexist, Tails showed a slide of some human NPCs from Sonic Unleashed. But the slide also included this never-before-seen character design, drawn in a conspicuously different, more anime-influenced art style from the Pixar-esque Unleashed characters. So... where's she from?

At the time, it was assumed that she was probably from an upcoming project. She looks like she could be an explorer of some sort, so maybe she's just an NPC from Frontiers, I thought. And then she wasn't in Frontiers. Sonic Prime, maybe? Nope, no humans in Prime. Okay, well maybe the IDW comics are going to start incorporating humans, now that the "two worlds" thing has been undone and humans once again canonically exist on the same planet as Sonic and friends. Well, if she's gonna show up in the comics, it's been almost three years and we still haven't seen her. That'd be a hell of a lead time for comics, where production cycles are typically a matter of months, not years. Time continued to pass, and we still hadn't seen her. We just had Ian Flynn teasing us with a #KnowingSmile, assuring us that she existed for some reason, just one that he couldn't talk about yet.

Fast forward to late 2024, and she suddenly makes an appearance in the last place anyone would have expected: the third live action movie, via an electronic billboard in Shibuya.

At this point it almost felt like the lore team was trolling us. Is this just a scrapped character design that's become fodder for inside joke cameos or something? Surely all of this teasing couldn't have been for a throwaway character design on a billboard in the background of a movie.

But actually, this billboard gives us an important piece of information: her name! She's labeled here as "Professor Tori." This is important because it connects her to a previous release. In Shadow Generations, Gerald's journal is prefaced with a note from the person who recovered it, addressed to the GUN Commander. In the English version, it's simply signed "T," but in the Japanese version... it's signed "Tori"!

This gives us some actual info about Professor Tori. For one, she seems to work for GUN in their Archival and Requisitions Department. She's apparently also interested in learning about Gerald and Maria's lives, like their old friend Abe is.

Jump forward again to the New Year's episode of TailsTube, and this appears in the background.

Her full name is officially given as Professor Victoria, and she's a historian. So, that seems to confirm everything we've pieced together so far.

As far as things we can reasonably assume to be correct go, this is everything we know for certain about Victoria. She's a historian working for GUN. Cool! But that's not what really fascinates me about her. For that, we have to do a little more speculation based on conjecture.

See, Shadow Generations also establishes information about the Robotnik family tree. Gerald had two sons. One of them took after Gerald's love of technology and became an expert in the field of robotics, and would go on to be Eggman's father. The other son took after Gerald's love of archaeology. This man would go on to be Maria's father. But, as Maria mentions in Shadow Generations... she also happens to have a little sister we've never met before.

So now, the question is: is this Maria's sister, Victoria Robotnik?!

We can't be 100% certain right now, but honestly, until proven otherwise I'm assuming that Victoria is Maria's little sister, now all grown up and working for GUN. It all lines up too neatly. The conspicuous reveal that Maria has an unseen and unnamed little sister, in the same game that establishes her dad was a history guy and also that there's this new historian working for GUN who just so happens to be really interested in her life. And also their names both end in "-ria." Come on!! Putting her in the Robotnik family would also explain all these cryptic clues about her identity. If she was just some random GUN agent, why be so coy and make fans piece it together?

I guess the most odd part here would be, y'know, Victoria working for the organization that killed her sister and grandpa. But Sega's been pushing the idea that GUN is trying to do better for 20 years now, ever since they established that the GUN Commander was Maria's childhood friend on the ARK and had him make amends with Shadow. Hearing that Maria's sister had joined GUN to try and gain access to information about her family history and undo the elaborate coverup of the previous administration would make sense to me, personally. And lest we forget, this would also make Victoria Eggman's cousin, giving him a family member in GUN. And that's a pretty cool storytelling tool to have on hand!

So, that's where we're at now. We have no idea where Victoria will pop up next, whether it's a game or a comic or another TailsTube episode or something else entirely. But it seems like she's fairly important, even if this speculation about her being a Robotnik somehow ends up being wrong. (But I'm pretty damn sold on this theory, personally.) Either way, it's exciting to see the human cast get fleshed out in fun ways again. If we're gonna have humans in Sonic stories, I'd rather they have anime-style designs and interesting connections to the narrative, rather than just being generic humans for the sake of having humans. I'm looking forward to seeing whatever the lore team's been cooking up here.

[caffeinewitchcraft]

Secrets of the Bly

The canopy sailed over the horizon line.

The mother looked out the window, snapping the sheets as she folded them. Her clear gray eyes were the same color as the morning sky and just as gloomy.

“Closer,” she muttered. She seemed surprised she had spoken, and her hands slowed, fingers lingering on the fraying edge of her own bed sheet. She wet her lips. Said again, “Closer.”

“What’s closer?” the daughter asked.

The mother didn’t jump, but the air changed as if she did. Her shoulders stiffened. Her hands went back to work. “Nothing,” she said. Then, not being able to help herself, “The forest is growing quickly.”

“Teacher says that trees don’t grow fast. Only an inch or two a year.”

“You couldn’t see the Bly when you were a baby,” the mother said. Her heart stung. She knew her daughter wasn’t calling her foolish. Lately, when the little girl spoke of her teacher, something she never had, it makes something sour in her want to lash out. “Now look how tall it stands!”

The daughter came to the window. Her clothes were ill-fitting. She looked as if she tumbled in and then out of fresh laundry only to come up wearing a whole bedspread. The dress she wore used to be the mother’s from when she was young. Her eyes traced the horizon. “That’s faster than teacher said.”

“Not even a teacher knows everything,” the mother said. Her own mother’s voice rang through hers. That made her jump. She thrust the laundry away from her and finally looked at her daughter. “Some truths are only learned while living—”

The daughter stared at her bare feet. Shoulders rounded. Lip jutting out so far the mother could see it through her hanging, flaxen hair. The mother’s heart stung different.

“The Bly is…different,” the mother said. It’s her own voice this time. Softer and more yielding. She kneeled so that the daughter could see her right away when she chose to look up. “It’s a secret I’d like you to keep.”

The daughter’s eyes darted up, meeting the mother’s. Her lip contracted a centimeter. “A secret?”

“Just between us two,” the mother agreed. Was the little girl old enough? She would give anything to bring her daughter’s chin up again. “Your teacher is right that trees grow slow. The Bly is different here. Only here.”

“Only here?”

“On our land. You see, the Bly is home to another kind of creature. Like us, but not. They are mischievous and kind and cruel. More importantly, they’re magic.”

“Fairies,” the daughter said confidently.

“The Good Folk,” the mother said in her own mother’s voice. Then to soften it, “And that’s not the secret.”

The daughter reached out to put her hands on her mother’s shoulders. She jumped in excitement, using her mother to steady herself. “Tell me! Please, tell me.”

The mother smiled and placed her hands over her daughters. She tilted her head forward and was rewarded when her daughter stopped leaping about and pressed her own forehead against hers. She whispered, “The secret is that once, a long time ago, I stole something from them. That’s why the forest grows so quickly over the horizon. They’re looking for what I took.”

“What?!” The daughter was amazed. “You said never to steal.”

“I did. I needed it very badly, mustn’t I have?”

“Yes,” the daughter said. Her quick mind tumbled through her mother’s confession. “So you’ve been in the Bly? What was it like? Teacher says there are wolves in there. What did you steal?”

For a moment, the mother was not there. She raced through dense old growth with her feet cut to ribbons and her skirts sticking wetly to her legs. Her breath came in cold clouds in front of her and she ran through them just as quickly as they formed. She could use only one hand to shield her face from vines and branches. Her other arm was curled around the bundle in her arms.

“One day,” the mother said. She stood but wrapped her hands around her daughter’s so that she knew it was only a necessary retreat and not a complete one. “One day, when you’re older, I’ll tell you all the stories I have.”

The girl’s lower lip was out again. “How old?”

“When the Bly hits the edge of our land,” the mother said. She held out her pinky. “Promise.”

The girl was suspicious. “It grows fast?”

The mother’s heart stung differently again. “Very fast.”

“Deal!”

---

(Patreon)

[axsolotle]

Also!!!! A completely different fun fact about the Man o’ War!!!! They’ve been weaponized by octopuses!!!!

The blanket octopus has some of the most extreme sexual dimorphism in the animal kingdom females can get up to six and a half feet long and males are one maybe two inches

Females have the defense of be fuck off huge. Males don’t so what do they do? Rip off Man o’ War tentacles (the venom of which they are immune to) and use it to protect themselves!!!!

so imagine you’re just minding your own business when a tiny little guy comes up to you rips off your right arm/twin and then uses it to defend himself on his quest to have sex and then die

[linkcharacter]

hii!!! so I've noticed that your art has an almost paper link texture to it, and I was wondering how you achieve this? I'm new to digital art but I can't think of a way to get the same effect. I've been a fan of your Mouthwashing art for a while and would really appreciate if you could share your sacred, magic art secrets. thanks!!!!

It's a noise texture. You can find it online as just images but I use the inbuilt Clip Studio one because it's fast.

I put the layer above everything else and set it to Overlay or Soft light layer mode depending on whether I want it harsher or softer. It's a part of the finishing touches that makes art look more finished.

[hislittlesparklejumpropequeen]

Watching you

Hwang In-ho x female!reader.

Summary: In-ho sees you and his brain chemistry changes. A/N: in reader’s pov he’s referred as Young il. Sorry if it’s confusing. Warnings: Obsessive and possessive behaviour, masturbation, stalking, perverted opinions, murder, blood, kissing, mentions of arousal, mentally and physically vulnerable characters, dubious consent, non-con touching, manipulation, sadism, dacryphilia

W/c: 3,5k

It was strange that he kept his eyes on you more than anyone in the games. The moment he saw your shaking figure among the crowd of people in the green suits, he felt his breath get stuck in his throat. You were looking around with eyes that were full of fear, hands wrapped around yourself and holding back tears as others started an argument in the middle. You listened as someone complained about his shoes being so expensive, and someone asking for his phone, an old lady argue with her son and guards answering the players’s questions with patience.

He kept his eyes on you as the first game started. He saw your eyes widen when someone was shot right in front of you, and he watched you as you realise the seriousness of the game you accepted to take part in. Gi-hun was interesting to him, yes. He was searching for them, for him have been for years now. And he was brave enough to come back to the games just to find who was behind them. He respected his determination. Yet there was something about you that he could not name. Something captivating. Something that shifted things in him, made his skin sting in ecstasy as you nearly moved when the doll turned around. You looked around with those innocent eyes and blood of someone flowing down your cheek, he felt his trouser tighten. A small, tingly sensation took over his loins and made him frown in confusion. He had never taken a liking to a someone, let alone a little, fragile thing like you.

When he found the video of you playing ddajki with the recruiter, he felt himself get harder and harder as he watched you spill tears in pain every single time you received a hard slap on your cheek. The camera captured the noises you made as your body was falling backwards with every single slap. The recruiter hit you hard and In-ho wandered if you would sound the same when he pounded you hard on his bed. He took his mask off and palmed himself trough his trouser as he kept replaying the video over and over again. When he was finished spilling his seed into his palm, he wished that was your mouth wrapped around his tip instead.

When the first game finished and your number and picture still shone bright on the floor, you voted for ‘X’ and expected everyone to vote same as you. Yet you were so wrong when the last player 001 and all others voted ‘O’, causing all of you to stay in this hellhole. You felt tears fill your eyes as some people were cheering with victory in front of you. You sat down on one of the beds at the front and hugged your legs with disappointment. As you were thinking what was going to happen next, you felt someone sit next to you.

“I’m sorry, I thought staying was the best option.” Said the man who was looking at you, watching your tears flow down your flushed cheeks. You looked at his number and saw 001 in bright white font. He was the person who voted last and made the decision. You sighed and shook your head.

“It is not only you, sir. Half of us wanted to stay.” You said as you pointed at the people who had the ‘O’ banners on their right side. He did not look at the direction you were pointing at, he kept his eyes on. You were so pretty when you cried. He wandered how beautiful you would look when you were overstimulated with his fingers in you. He felt his cock twicth when you looked at him again. Your lips were plump, and the tip of your nose was red. He wandered how your tears would taste like.

“We have a winner here. I thought we could use this for our advantage.” He explained as he pointed at Gi-hun who looked very troubled not so far away from you. Your eyes were on the last winner when you felt the man beside you stand up and take few steps towards the player 456. Yet he stopped mid way and looked back at you, as if he was waiting for you to follow him. And for some reason you wiped your tears away and followed him like a lost puppy as he walked towards the previous winner of the games who was already accompanied by few guys who kept asking him questions.

And the small group was formed with two of you joining them. You did not know much about others, did not trust them meanwhile player 001 was confident and comfortable talking to them. When he sat down next to Gi-hun, his eyes pointed at the small space next to his feet, so you sat down there. Being close to him brought you a sense of safety. He was the first person who approached you in this mess of a place with kindness. You did not know him, didn’t know his name or why he was here. Yet there was a look in his eyes that made you want to stick beside him.

When everyone went to sleep, In-ho looked at your resting form. You were wrapped in the thin blanket and was curled up into a ball. He looked at your curves that were visible from the tracksuit, his mouth watered. You were so frightened and powerless. You needed someone to protect you in the games. Someone who would look after you, make sure you make it alive. He knew what humans were capable of doing in a place like this. People were going to go mad and hurt one another viciously. Would he be able to just stand and watch if you got hurt?

Your soft whimpers and cries brought him back to reality. When you woke up from your few hours of sleep drenched in sweat and tears flowing down your cheeks, he crawled to you, in the darkness of the hall. He reached out to you, from the metal bars of the beds, and held your shoulder. You squirmed in fear and was about to scream until a large hand covered your mouth.

“It’s me.” He whispered to your ear as his whole body was pressed against your back, other arm wrapped around your shoulders. He was towering over you, as you felt sweat drops make their way to your neck from your temple.

He let go of your mouth, but his touch did not leave your body when he moved to sit next to you. He was close, his breath hitting your face and neck when he looked at you with observing eyes that did not give any feelings away. His touch made your heart beat fast and quicken your breaths, yet you did not want him to stop holding you.

“Bad dream?” He whispered, his voice is low yet deep enough to make your insides shake. You nodded when tears filled your eyes again. The images of dead bodies all over the playground haunted you since the moment you came back from the game as winners. You didn’t want to cry in front of anyone, but you felt like he would not mind seeing you cry.

He nodded along with you, almost like a grown up talking to a little kid and mirror her moves to befriend her. When he saw your bottom lip tremble and eyes full of fear scan the hall of people sleeping, he felt his loins burn in need. The face you made when you were scared and felt alone was enough to make him cum in his underwear without any touch.

Without hesitation he brought your body closer to his own and his arms embraced your shaking form with mercy. You buried your face into the crook of his neck and wrapped your smaller arms around his waist. He was warm. Very warm that you felt your fingertips burn over his body. When you breathed in and out in the crook of his neck, all In-ho wanted to do was throw your body back into the bed, rip those clothes off of you and ravage you in front of dozens of people without any care. The though of fucking you, turning you into mass in front of them, giving them a show as he claimed you, sent shivers down his spine.

“I’m so scared,” you whispered, your crying voice reaching his ear as he tried to hold back a smile at your situation. You were so helpless that you were crying in the arms of the man who was the reason why you were still here. He was a stranger, who had the potential to do anything. Yet here you were, quivering against his chest and making his member throb in need.

“I’m here.” He said. And you had no chance but trusting him.

———————

The next game you were automatically given the Gong-gi game as the only female in the group. Yet your hands were shaking when it was your turns to play after player 390 completed his part successfully. When you missed two times, you were so sure you were going to die and worse, be the reason for everyone’s death in your group.

He watched you panick, drop the pebbles and fail to catch them midair. Everyone around you was getting inpatient and scared naturally. Even tho he loved the way you were struggling and feeding into his twisted desire, he could not let you die. He held your waist and stopped the trembling of your body. You looked at him under your lashes that were wet with your tears and went back to work once he gave you a reassuring smile. With that you managed to catch all the pebbles in your palm and passed the round.

It was then, you felt something was off, when it was his turn to play his own game. The top kept slipping from his hands or landed wrong on the floor that was covered in the blood of eliminated players. You wanted to step back yet could not because of the ties when he started to scream in anger and slap himself. There was a crazy, off-putting look in his eyes. It was less uncomfortable when he was looking at you, yet it was still there. His eyes made your skin crawl and stomach twist in sickness. You did feel safe around him. But not like you would feel safe with a family member, a friend, or a lover. It felt like he was a wolf who claimed a lamb, kept her on his chest and waited for right moment to eat her.

When your group managed to survive and go back to the hall, he kept to you close. His hand was on your back, leading you to your bed. When it was mealtime, he gave half of his food to you, telling you to not to worry about him when you tried to reject him. He watched you until you finished all your food. After all of you exchanged names, he watched you talk to player 388 about his time in marine and watch you laugh when he was talking excitedly, telling everyone how prideful he was about his military service. He watched your tears dry up as you listened to the conversation that was flowing in the group. Your smile made his stomach twist and his jaw clench.

Your hopes once again were shattered when people voted for “O” more than “X” and decided to continue playing the games. Young-il wiped your tears away and convinced you to get some sleep for the night. You could only relax and fall asleep when he sat next to you on your bed and caressed your head as he decided to stay awake. He looked extraordinarily strong to you. He did not need to sleep, gave his food to others, calm people down when everyone was scared, raged and pass the games like it was nothing. Most importantly, he held you close no matter what. Did not mind you cry and fail and fall. Maybe it was a sense of guilt he felt, for making you stay in the first round of voting, you thought.

——————

Next morning he held your hand when everyone was taken to the new game. It was mingle. Your group had decided to stay together. You were grateful that they had take you in and did not leave you alone. You all took your place on the platform and started to spin as the song was playing. You felt his hand get tighter around yours, reminding you that he was here with you.

10

You ran as fast as you can and took deep breaths when all 10 of you finally managed to get into a room. The sound of lock made you jump slightly. You saw Young il’s eyes on Gi-hun as he pulled you under his arm. The images of him looking at Gi-hun since the moment you met him lingered on your mind until the woman who claimed to be a shaman started to speak loudly in the middle of the room. As you waited for gunshots to stop and doors to open, you could not help but wonder the reason behind Young il’s weird behaviour about Gi-hun. He seemed to get along with him. Seemed to respect his ideas and experiences about this place. They seemed to understand one another, somehow. Yet that unexplainable look in 001 eyes was making you shift uncomfortably in your place.

Until last round, you had no chance but sticking beside Young il. As you entered rooms and people kept dying outside, you became more paranoid. And when it came to the last round, Jeong-bae asked how many people it was going to be this time. Without hesitation Young-il answered.

“2.” And it was it. When the song stopped and the platform stopped spinning, Young il held your hand tighter than before, and started to run to closest room. As you were trying to catch up with his pace, someone bumped into you, causing you to lose your balance and stumble midway. Young il turned around immediately and wrapped his arms around your waist. He lifted you like a piece of feather and made his way to the yellow door that was already opened by a guy. Young il pushed you into the room and threw the other guy away from the door. When you scanned the room, your eyes were met with pair of foreign eyes.

“Out.” Young il said sharply to the other man in the room.

“We were here first.” The man said, his voice cracking as he was shaking in fear. Person behind the door tried to open it. You pushed your back against the door and held it with all of your strength. There was not much time left, and you were afraid that all of you were going die in this room.

Young il grabbed the man and locked his arms around his head. As they scooped to the floor, his arms got tighter around the player 343’s neck. You were still holding the door and preventing the other player to get in. For a second Young il’s intense gaze met with yours and you couldn’t look away.

He looked into your eyes, showing no emotion or weakness as the man he was choking started to turn purple. Your breath got stuck in your throat, your knees were shaking, and your palms were getting sweaty with the scene taking place in front of you. As there were few seconds left for the countdown, Young il twisted the man’s neck. The sound of bone cracking filled the room along with the sound of door locking behind you. He kept his eyes on you, as he tossed the dead body of the side.

The lifeless body of player 343 laid on the ground and the gunshots filled your ear. The screams of people scratched your brain, and you finally managed to close your eyes. He had killed someone in front of you, broke his neck with one swift motion and he had no emotion on his face as he did it. Your heart was beating so fast that you thought it was going to fail at some point. Then the images of him came to your mind. When he knocked down player 124 and 230 as he looked down at them with those emotionless eyes, when he carelessly slapped himself in the second game, when he looked at Gi-hun as if he wanted to strangle him when he thought no one was looking, when he pushed everyone out of his way to get both of you to safety during the mingle game and now when he killed someone.

“Open your eyes.” He breathed out, his breath hitting your face. Suddenly you felt his warmth surrounding you and him towering over your head. You slowly opened your eyes and there he was. Looking down at you, his eyebrows lifted up and with a mocking look in his eyes. His face was close to yours. Yet it did not feel comforting and safe like it did a night ago, when he was comforting you after a nightmare.

“What did you do?” Your voice was shaky and sounded terrified as you tried to look at the dead body that was in the corner of the room. He did not let you look away with his fingers finding your chin and holding it tight. He held you with those hands that just took the life of someone. You felt chills going down your spine.

“I made sure that we survived.” He whispered without breaking eye contact with you. You could hear soldiers cleaning up the mess outside of the rooms.

“You killed him.” You tried to shake his touch away, yet he didn’t let you. Instead, he got closer, until you were trapped between him and the door. His hot breath made your skin tingle, and his touch made you wanna cry.

“Yes.” He said, and his lips touched your cheek that was wetted by your tears. His lips planted a soft kiss onto your skin. The kiss made you feel dizzy and your knees weak.

“For you.” He continued. His words made you freeze in your spot. His lips traced over your skin like a ghost and reached the corner of your lips. “Only for you” He kissed the side of your mouth, softly, gently, with mercy. You wanted to rip his hands off of you, and run away. The floor beneath your feet was slippery with the blood of eliminated players. If you slipped and fell, would he let you go?

“All for you.” His lips found your chin, then your nose, then your other cheek. He did not rush or hold you harsh enough to hurt. Yet knowing that he had just killed someone with those hands made you wanna throw up.

Your tears dropped to his lips, and he licked his lips as if he was dying over thirst. And when he made eye contact with you again, it was the first time you saw a clear human emotion in his eyes. An emotion he did not try to hide or was afraid to show; yearning. You did not know if it was for you or winning. In both cases, it terrified you to your very being.

“Stop!” You said as sobs filled your mouth and he pressed his forehead against yours hard. You felt him shake his head, his arms wrapping around your fragile, little body compared to his strong form.

“I will give you everything you want, you need.” He said and pressed his lips against yours. Without waiting, his tongue made his way into your mouth, forcing your lips to open up for him. You felt the dizzy feeling take over your head. Your ears were ringing, your mind was foggy as he kissed you harsh, deep. There was no power left in your body, so you just let yourself to his arms.

His teeth crushed against yours and he was biting every corner of your lips until he drew blood. The irony taste filled your senses, made you jump. You did not know if it was you bleeding or him. But there was blood everywhere. Covering your tongue, your lips and staining your chin as your shared spit escaped from the corner of your lips. You felt your body burn all over. Your back was arching like a cat to get any closer to him, and there was a soreness between your legs that made your clit throb. You felt shame fill you and guilt making you wanna cry out. Instead, you kept kissing him, devouring him, eating him as much as you could.

You whined and pushed your head towards him when he parted your kiss with the sound of lock. The door was opened. The third game was finished. There was still a dead man in the room. Your mouth was covered in blood, making you look like you just feasted on someone. And his eyes were on you, watching you.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fic Idea: Lex Luther's annoyance

Vlad Masters is....a pain. Not in the usual elite way Lex is used to. Not the empty-headedness of wealthy men like Bruce Wayne or annoyingly humanitarian like Oliver Queen.

Masters was annoying in the confusing kind. He was new money who danced around Lex's manipulations as if they were mere flies. He never gives Lex a reason to take him out but always leaves the bald man feeling weary.

Unsettled. Unsure.

The effect Masters had on him was irritating. Lex Luthor doesn't get unsure.

Luthor's family money came from his father, but it was Lex who turned the moderate company into one of the biggest powerhouses in the world. He was ruthless, always three steps ahead of his peers, using his clever mind to his every advantage.

Lex prides himself in being the danger in plain sight. He charmed kings and politicians alike, carefully placing a controlling hand on the back of their necks with each casual joke or helpful investment. Wherever Lex went, it wouldn't be long before he gained control of the floor and moved his pieces on the board to his liking.

That was if Vlad Masters wasn't in attendance.

Masters rarely join in high-class events- why should he? He was wealthy, of course, but nowhere near Lex's level. He just didn't run in the same circles- but whenever he did, it was like a rock being thrown in Lex's clam river. No matter where he was, Lex found his eyes tracing the underwhelming cut of Masters's suit (Easily one of the cheapest ones there) or catching the man's gaze that hid barely concealed amusement.

That was another thing. All social rules and etiquette indicated that Masters should be chasing after Lex's attention and approval or, at the very least, feel nervous in his presence. Masters acted like Lex was a part of the background, never impolite but never dazed or impressed.

Equals in a way that made Lex's stomach lurch in anxiety.

He has met some people who thought themselves better than Lex through arrogance, but none have taken one look at him and deemed him unimportant. It was as if Lex were just another man walking down the street who was only worthy of getting a passing greeting.

As if the man had a presence at all. Lex was often the man of the hour, and Masters was the guy nursing a drink by the wall, watching the crowd with a calm, nearly detached expression.

Masters was known for being a rather dull wealthy man, only seemingly interested in conversations if it was about his precious football team or random scientific discoveries. Seeing as he made his wealth through scientific discoveries, it was understandable that he knew an awful lot about them.

However, besides being a fantastic investor and stock buyer, Masters didn't have a single social bone in his body.

Lex had witnessed him flout through galas, parties, art galleries, and political rallies without a hint of displeasure or pleasure. Always engaged in conversations, but only if someone approached him first. He would often be seen admiring the decor, as though he was visiting a museum rather than networking or losing himself in a vice-like alcohol or bed partners.

It was almost as if these grand events that others killed to get an invitation were mere walks in a lovely garden for him. A break from whatever hectic life he lived.

Except that after having his people look into it, Masters didn't have a hectic life. He barely had one. No matter how much Lex dug into his background, besides that one accident that landed him in a hospital in college, Masters's life had been a pretty average rise from rags to riches through his hard work and intelligent mind.

A wealth that would likely only be passed down two generations with no hints of wanting to raise it like Lex had. No hints of ambition for something greater. No hints of nefarious schemes or back-alley deals. No hints of any sort of crime.

Just a man who wasn't amazed by Lex's world of wealth.

Lex hated how utterly boring he found the man and yet, how his eyes always followed him through the room, fascinated by how Masters didn't make any sesne. It was irritating how Masters didn't even have to do anything to grab Lex's attention; just walking by had him nearly tripping over his own two feet to watch him.

He didn't even know why he wanted to watch Masters. He wasn't even that handsome! His long silvery hair tied in a perfect tail, his slightly dry-looking skin, the dark circles under his eyes, and that teeth-gritting accent of his.

He didn't even know why Masters sounded like an upper-class British man. He was born in Wisconsin!

What did he take voice acting lessons to craft an accent? (Lex's checked. He didn't. Masters is just like that. It made his heart beat like Superman was about to burst into his office. He called his doctor to check if he's developed a heart condition)

The worst part was the way Master lingered in his mind, sitting at the back of it with inane questions like: What was he doing? Does he like chocolate or vanilla more? Why has he tried to buy the Parkers from Green Bay ninety-five times?

It made him look like a fool. No one made Lex Luthor look like a fool.

In a fit of madness, Lex had ordered Mercy to blacklist Masters from any parties they would host. He could not stand to have that man throw him off his game a second longer.

It worked for about three months, and Lex did not have to suffer from stomach twisting or heart hurting due to the sudden increase in heart rate. Then he ran into Masters at a Wayne Gala of all places where the man was dressed like an idiot with his pure black-on-black outfit only to throw on a Packer's scarf.

It looked so stupid that Lex had to hide in the men's bathroom for an hour after spotting the man chatting quietly with Wayne's butler. He could not describe why that stupid green and gold scarf had nearly brought him to his knees.

According to Mercy, who had eavesdropped, Masters' mother was from England, which explains his odd accent. She didn't quite judge him openly, but Lex could read the subtext of her stare as she reported everything Masters did at the gala.

He danced to one song with Bruce Wayne. Lex had nearly broken his hand when he punched the way to the bathroom.

The night after Waynes' gala, Lex lifted Masters' ban because he missed the rather dull man's presence. This gala had been the season's highlight, and compared to the other various parties, Lex had found himself feeling something besides boredom or contempt.

The next time Lex saw Masters was at a charity five months later. Once again, Masters was wearing his black suit, but this time, he had a silver undershirt and a ridiculous red bowtie. Lex had spent five hours changing outfit after outfit, trying to find the most flattering one, and Masters had the audacity to wear a red bowtie.

"He looks good," Lena says, eyes drinking in Masters, leaning on a wall with a blue drink in hand and gazing over the dancers. Lex felt like hurling up when Masters' lips twitch up into a grin as a man stumbles by with his unimpressed dance partner. "You should ask him to dance."

"No," Lex bites out, feeling sick. "Why would you even say?"

Lena shares a look with Mercy before muttering, " It's almost pathetic how he doesn't know how to handle his feelings."

"What was that?"

"You're pathetic," She says with an eye roll. She grabs Mercy's hand and drags her to the dance floor, though his bodyguard sends him a look, asking for permission. He waves his hand, knowing his sister would bite his head off if he stopped her from dancing with her girlfriend, even if she was currently on the clock.

" I'm not pathetic. I can make a living clone with my own DNA." He grouches, glaring at her as she twirls under Mercy's arm.

"You can?" The familiar accent has Lex jumping a foot in the air. He spins around only to look down into Master's blue eyes. Lex had always noticed that he was a head taller than the other man, but it was one thing to know on paper and another to see in person.

He felt like Masters' blue gaze had grabbed him by the throat. "What?"

"You make clones?" Masters repeat, eyes alight with delight. "I've dabbled in that technology myself. I have a daughter, thanks to it."

Lex stares, feeling off-footed. "You're married?"

"Oh no, no." Masters laughs, though Lex can pick up a hint of anger from the curve of his jaw. "I'm a single father. My daughter happens to have some characteristics of her DNA donors, but she's mine entirely."

"I see." Lex suddenly feels like every social skill he's ever developed has evaporated. Or, at the very least, all of his brain cells because why else would he have blurted out, "I have a son. He's my clone with another man."

"Oh, congratulations. You and your husband-"

"No! I'm single. I mean, I'm not married. I was never married. In fact, it's been a long time since I've been in a relationship. So long I think I forgot how they are supposed to go." Lex cuts in, nearly spilling his drink as he shakes his hand. Masters' fae clouds with amusement, and Lex realizes he's been talking for too long.

"Well, it's hard to date while being a single parent." Masters hums before smiling, and Lex feels like Superman has just punched him through a wall without wearing his power suit. "Science is a wonderful thing, isn't it? To allow us to have our children."

"I suppose"

Masters ponders something before he holds out a card. "My daughter has always wanted to meet others like her. Would you and your son care to join us for dinner if it's not too much trouble?"

Lex thinks he makes a sound of confirmation, and just as he appears, Masters vanishes. He walks into the crowd, disappearing from sight, taking his mind-numbing, amused eyes and his stupid bow tie.

It takes him a moment to realize the card has Masters' phone number. Lex stares at the seven digits, feeling like he's freefalling and he's seconds away from being sick. He stumbles to a chair, falling into it without his usual grace.

Mercy is at his side in seconds, eyeing him wearily as Lena touches his shoulder. "Lex? You okay?"

"I have...to make a call." He hears himself say, stumbling for his phone. With shaking hands, he taps on a contact, bringing the device to his ear and listening to it ring. It takes five rings before it's picked up, and a voice bites out.

"What?"

"Conner." He starts, hands still shaking slightly. "Are you free this Friday?"

[ticklace]

See this is why ASD is such a wild condition to me.

Hi, I'm Lacey, I like everything to be structured and reliable and predictable to the minutest detail by an elegant logical framework.

...and if all that fails, just gimme a teddy bear and a weighted blanket and I'll go from there.

[astralnymphh]

requesting fluffy period sex with Jackson Ellie!!

i’ve been thinking about this for ages lol but just imagine Ellie hearing that orgasms can help period cramps, maybe she randomly reads it in an old trashy magazine or she overhears two other girls talking about it while in town. anyway, she wants to help her gf of course, wants to make you feel better. you’re apprehensive at first and a little shy/embarrassed but Ellie’s like “do u really think i care about a little blood?” because obviously that girl does NOT care abt blood. maybe she even likes it a little…

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄. ★

note from author: you know i will use any excuse to write jackson!ellie + period sex. especially fluffy sex. with a hint of freak. make sure to hit that like button and subscribe. for more gay sex. drabble length. wrote this in a day (and on my period) so excuse the simpler style. oral + fingering (if you have a problem, keep it to yourself. nobody gaf). not a lot of plot. 18+ interactions please. mdni. wc: 1k.

To think, that you were brought a dream.

In the hands of a girl.

You must be blacking in and out. It rushes over your skin: the exhilaration, the sensation, the indent of fingers squeezing your bra-padded breasts, the sweat sticking to her lilac bedsheets. She traverses you like written text. Wrists, shoulders, hips, thighs, the beginnings to a place you feel the need to hide. When the shape of her head intrudes itself there, her intrepid fingers—they follow, and spread the pages for a translation tender and filling. Something she can't put down; you scoot your hips away, and she pulls you right back in.

She reads you.

You feel sedate lengths of softness tread through the channels under your abdomen, where it cramps—and the pain fleets. You forget all about it, until a finger eases inside, and you yelp with all the breath hitched in your throat. “Wait, Ellie!” You shut the heart of your thighs, enclosing her wrist. The ever-so soft junction.

She cocks her head. “What's the matter, babe?”

“You'll get blood on your fingers.”

She read about it in a grayed-out, faded Cosmo; it roped in the young generations, for generations, concerning them with relationships and the sex life of women—menstruation. It fucking sucks, but it sure doesn't have to; she can soothe you right here on the bed you're burrowed up in.

The Jackson local library has an answer for everything.

Ellie promised that after a serenade on her guitar, a hundred kisses, and a whisper of strawberry wine, she would help you out. Tongue and hands.

The practiced grooves on her face snap when she laughs, and she slides up your crotch to have a more face-to-face, respectable consolation. Don't get her wrong: muzzling something incoherent into the plush of your thighs is exciting—and it lets those embarrassing, inhibition-numbing sentiments trickle out until she gets as red as her hair—but she wants you to hear her this time. Cold fingertips melt into your waist.

Your skin is on fire.

“Do you really think I care about a little blood?” She questions, with a voice cornered and hoarse and teasing, tracing mindless circles into your belly. Your reason isn't reason enough to Ellie, it seems.

You glance around for something to convice her. “Well—I don't want to get blood on..”

Ellie disregards you with a head shake and reburies her shoulders under the open perspective of you. Arms entangle you again. “Mh-mm, don't worry about that.” And she, being clever with her peach lips, kisses you here, there, in those self-same distracting places that make you trance out and miss a couple beats, then tense up when she invites her tongue, slips it down and..

Die. For a breath.

Strands of her hair crumple under your grip. Catch under your fingernails.

“Fuck, right there.. right there, Ellie.”

It felt more alight than usual; thick, hot, catalytic presses with her tongue pushing your folds and pinching that bud of nerves—you almost tug her down harder. She can tell you wanted to. It elicits an affirming, quickened pace of her tongue and squeeze of your thighs. Her eyes are fluttered shut, and she looks like a quiet, satisfied heaven.

Her thumb enters below her mouth.

She pulls back—like a vampiric portrait—and cleans her lips, and you bear down for it to return. The thumb inside stills you with a slow pumping.

“See, babe?”

Ellie slides out that thumb. Sucks it, lips pulling over the tip, for you. Humming at your taste like she's about to come herself.

“I don't care. I fuckin' love it.”

Not a second ticks, where you get to process the overwhelming tingle up your nape—or the numbing sound of your heart pounding, and Ellie is already stuffing her face right where it was. She takes you without question. Spreading your thighs apart, she lines up her wet tongue with your wetter entrance and laps your clit, making the swollen bud catch, drag and flick into place: an addicting loop. It feels so perfect against her heart-shaped mouth. Soon, you forget that cramps were the thing that initiated this and delight pours from your throat.

You catch her groping herself to the sound.

She managed a clean job. Blood stains the swell of her chin, to the tip of her nose in lithe blotches, but you knew that would happen. Of course, with her pressing her entire mouth against your hole to wag her face in your mess—you had laughed through a moan when she did—who could guess differently?

It's Ellie: so, of course.

She was smiling when your cries of release came crashing. You shuddered, rode it out on her mouth, and the corner of her lips just curled into your heat.

Fucking idiot.

When you glance down, the little ligatures of humiliation poke at you again; you begin to close your legs. But the indents on your hips from her hold grow deeper. It inches you back open.

She steals the opportuinity to slot herself in that space.

Ellie swipes hair from your face with the backs of her fingers, lingering. “You did so fuckin' good, babe. That's all you needed, huh? I know, I know. You can thank me later,” she boasts. But all you can focus on is her jean-covered thigh against you.

Quiet as the room, you gasp, but it still prompts her to look in the same spot and nudge off you.

She scoffs. “Psh—it'll come right out. Nothin' to sweat over.”

She is too nonchalant for your heart.

You shift in your pool of sudation, rolling out little grunts. Her touch coheres your movements. “Where did you even learn this from?”

“Uh,” she sounds, gaping open mouth. Ellie would nick herself in the knee if you figured how devoted to you she is in passing time. It takes up more than that, if were being honest. She feels better when you perceive her as your genius and generous girlfriend—so she'll keep it that way. “Just, kinda.. thought that I should do it. Yeah.”

You would refute if you were half as awake as you were before Ellie sapped your whole stamina bank out. Thanks, babe.

“Totally.”

“Mhm, I'm the best.” Sarcasm manages to seep through regardless, even when she tries. You laugh at it.

Ellie blacked out within the hour—before you could—sound asleep in the repository your sprawling lap provides, halfway down the bed in an entanglement. You followed in syrup-like tandem—but not without your fingers in her scalp, and a whisper of words. Sleep fought you for this moment.

“You're the best, idiot.”