#must be the radiation causing all the brainrot

[emmcarstairs]

José Saramago, Cain / Car Seat Headrest, The Gun Song / José Olivarez, “I Wake in a Field of Wolves with the Moon” / Danez Smith

[artenon]

oh gosh your new reblog reminded me I never went back to the WIP-titles meme because Life™️ but I would love to hear about your MCU ones, homecoming starker and kittydevil?

i understand about Life, i hope you have some chill weeks ahead of you 🙏

thank you for asking about my wips!! these are both old wips that have been on the backburner because i've been seized by uhhh bandom brainrot, BUT i really want to go back and finish them sometime. i've actually written a good chunk of both of them, i just need to kick myself in the butt to finish them!

full answer beneath the cut because i included some excerpts!

homecoming starker - a post-homecoming missing scene fic where tony finds peter when he's sitting on top of the Cyclone roller coaster after the Vulture fight. peter is super beat up and doesn't want to go home right away so tony buys him mcdonald's and takes him to a condo he owns in the area. peter thinks he's in for another lecture (since the last time they talked was after the ferry incident); meanwhile, tony is freaking out because he took away peter's spidey suit and peter almost DIED (peter is also freaking out because he almost died, and he has never gotten hurt this bad before as spider-man). the fic is meant to instigate the transition from tony being the Distant Figure that he is in homecoming to a more active mentor/presence in peter's life (like he is in all the fanfics), so of course they end up talking stuff out. because i love fix-its and making characters talk things out, lol

also though i call it starker, the fic is really preslash/could definitely be tagged & not / but of course in my heart they WILL fall in love one day hahaha

wtf i looked at my draft to get an excerpt and THIS FIC IS ALMOST DONE, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME (it's only like 3k but i am chronically bad at finishing fics no matter the length)

Tears well up. He fights them back, not wanting to cry in front of Mr. Stark. But he still can’t get his voice to sound quite normal as he whispers, “I’m sorry.” “You’re sorry,” Mr. Stark echoes. And then, incredulously, “You’re sorry? What the hell do you have to be sorry for?” Peter swallows. “I caused trouble for you.” “Kid.” Mr. Stark pinches the bridge of his nose. “That is the last thing I’m worried about right now.” “Then… what are you worried about?” Mr. Stark stares at him, eyes wide. “I’m worried about you,” he snaps, and suddenly the anger that’s been radiating from him the whole night takes on a whole different shade. “Oh,” Peter says, for lack of anything better. “God, kid.” Mr. Stark shakes his head. “I’m the one who has to apologize here.” Peter waits, but Mr. Stark doesn’t say anything else. Mr. Stark must see something expectant in his look, because he says, “What?” “Well…” Peter hesitates. “You haven’t said ‘sorry’ yet. Not that I think you need to! But if you want to apologize, um. ‘Sorry’ is a pretty good place to start.”

kittydevil - a silly little fic where matt murdock gets transformed into a kitty cat and peter finds him and takes him back to his apartment. this is in a vague future AU where peter is in college at Columbia so spidey swings by hell's kitchen every once in a while after becoming friends with daredevil. matt's only a kitty for a couple days, but that is still enough time for peter to become worried sick about him when foggy calls and says he's missing. and then of course matt turns back into himself... naked... in peter's bed. WE KNOW HOW THIS TROPE GOES!

Slowly, Matt untenses. He even takes a few steps closer to Peter and clambers into his lap, to which Peter makes a pleased noise. “Yeah,” he says. “We’re okay.” He rubs Matt’s head, then runs his hands along his sides. “No way you’re a stray, are you? Sweet thing like you. You seem clean, and well-fed, but these scars… Rough kittenhood, maybe?” Matt pretends his heart doesn’t do a funny little twinge when Peter calls him sweet thing. As Peter keeps petting him, Matt feels himself truly calm down for the first time since he was turned into a cat. Something rumbles in his chest���a purr. “Aww,” Peter says, like his heart is melting. Matt feels like he’s melting too, until he’s a boneless puddle in Peter’s lap. Cozy. “Good boy,” Peter says softly. Matt closes his eyes. His purr doesn’t falter.

[ssoupcup]

explaining in unnecessary detail; my current oc brainrot story

this is purely for my enjoyment only. i also haven't proofread this and some of this i came up with whilst writing so erm yeah. also if u do read this warning for mention of murder

HARPA - Historical Artefacts Recovery and Preservation Agency

A government department responsible for the research into past events and objects.

The general idea is that in this universe, time travel is possible. It is heavily monitored by the government, but also utilised.

This department is responsible for travelling back to time periods and either retrieving historical artefacts to bring them into the present day for analysis and conservation, or for observation of historical events to fill any gaps in knowledge.

The department is incredibly hard to become involved with due to how if anything goes wrong it can cause significant problems for the current day, and due to the risks involved which I will detail in a moment.

Sections within this department

-Time Travel

-Artefact and document conservation

-Researchers

-Management

-Tech

-Publication

-Library and archive services

-Emergency

Each section is involved within the process, although it is generally hoped that the emergency workers are not needed.

The process generally goes as such:

-A task is assigned by management or a specific request is put in, etc. This is passed on to the time travel department and the task is assigned to either an individual, or group, depending on which is better for the scenario.

-The time travel department then travels to the specific point in time to complete the work, whether that be retrieving an artefact, or observing an event or such.

-Once back in the present day, the artefact is immediately taken to conservation, and if the task was to observe, the worker immediately recounts the details to the researchers. Oftentimes for an observation based task, multiple people will be sent in order to ensure all possible pieces of information are gathered.

-The artefact/document is preserved and analysed by the conservation department, and the observational work is written up into an account whilst being matched to any other extant sources of the event or concept.

-This research or report is then further researched, discussed with other workers, academics, historians and such, and is then passed through to management. From here, any more needed information is gathered, then once that is collected or if nothing else is needed, the research is prepared for publication and the artefact is photographed or replicated, then stored away in archives in the building, before potentially being transported to other archives across the country, or to museums for storage and educational display.

Whew okay that is the general process. Now we gotta get into some of the very odd rules which are associated with this work. Once you get past the strict background checks, all the levels of high education, testing and such, and finally the interview, those working in the time section must stick to some oddly specific rules.

-Not a single thing other than the object for retrieval may be touched. This can even extend to being written up for accidentally kicking a stone or becoming involved in a conversation with someone whilst on the mission. This is largely due to the potential butterfly effect, as it is unknown how large of an impact these tiny events could have.

-You are not allowed to speak of the experience until it is all published. This is to prevent the spread of misinformation, misinterpretation, human bias and information becoming available to the public before it has been sorted through and heavily researched and checked.

-Nobody may work in this department for longer than one year.

This last rule is enforced due to a number of circumstances. Firstly, working within the time travel section has negative effects on the health long term, such as an increased mortality rate, higher exposure to radiation, and other illness. Additionally, it is also rumoured that it can have an effect on people mentally due to the other biological effects. This is not confirmed by anyone, especially not the managers and such, but the rumours cite something known as the 'coffee cup incident' - a rather euphemistic name for a supposed incident which occurred after an individual worked in the time travel department for too long. It is alleged that they experienced significant health issues, and became mentally disturbed as side effect of the time travelling, which ended in them grabbing a coffee cup in one of the offices after a task, and bashing another workers skull in with it, killing them.

This is simply a rumour of course. No evidence has ever been found which indicates such an incident happening. There are many reasons as to why the 1st floor office was closed from the 14th to the 29th of January, 2009, and rest assured murder was not one of them.

That being said, talk of this incident is not tolerated at HARPA, and all employees are expected to realise that this is in fact merely a rumour. Besides, if any mention of this came out to the public, it would cause a great many issues. They hardly appreciate the work done at the government division anyway, and if word of such an incident got out - well, it would only provide more reason for them to dislike the idea of it.

okay and now onto my bastard of an oc who works here lmao. but quickly in case the idea hasn't been conveyed properly by my rambling, this is basically a synopsis of everything.

There is a government division which deals with time travel. The idea is to fill in gaps of out knowledge of history in order to gain a better understanding of the past, for use of historians and other similar people. This is not generally appreciated by the general public for a number of reasons;

-the technology itself has been said to be unstable. it creates high amounts of radiation and with the known effects on physical health and rumoured effects on mental health, it is understandable as to why some may be fearful over the risks.

-to further this, whilst it has never been confirmed, supposedly anomalies in reality have been created. it is unclear as to what these anomalies entail, however a number of odd occurrences have been reported around the area since the division was created. these are generally brushed off by the organisation.

-general fears around time travel. the public fears that if the wrong person got a hold of the technology, they could use it with malicious intent and mess with timelines, events and such or attempt to rewrite history.

Despite these honestly very reasonable fears, a lot of cover ups are done, and a lot of attempts at alleviating fears are made. Why does the government allow this with all of these risks you may ask? Money. While this sector is expensive to run, it also generates a lot of income. Knowledge is a very valuable thing and they can generate a lot of income from sponsoring the research, renting out documents artefacts for display, replication or further study, and such. (yes ik there are logistical problems with this, i am going to come up with ways to make this work lmao.)

anyway back to my oc in this. i suppose all of the workers are my ocs but this particular one who would be the main character in it.

she is called vallie and works in the time travel department. and she has done for the past 3 years. this is somehow despite the rule of only one year. why is she doing this? money. it is INCREDIBLY lucrative. and unfortunately, she is very efficient at her job. she is able to get the artefacts retrieved very quickly, and all of her observational tasks rarely run into any issues and tend to cover all needed details. that and her rather favourable connections with management have allowed her to continue working, despite the possible health detriments. she is also a fucking ASSHOLE. she wasn't too bad whilst she was working in the library, but once she was promoted and allowed to work within time travel, she became ten times more insufferable, annoying and rude to everyone.

i do have a general idea of a story this would follow. it would end up being some mildly horrifying science fiction kind of stuff which of course ends in disaster. i do obviously need to develop it further but this is most of what i have come up with in the last week. some of the ideas i had for a while and i had the idea of the government sponsored time traveller oc for a while, but wahoo im finally developing it. anyway this was really in to write. im probably gonna develop this a bit more over time and just go a tiny little bit mental. who knows.

[plutowrites]

currently have porco brainrot

- he is probably the most dramatic boyfriend ever. like he’ll gasp, clutch his chest and start breathing heavily. the whole 5 miles. and this goes for you doing anything, ESPECIALLY if you’re driving (to add onto that last persons hc)

- when you take a sharp turn or hit the brakes too hard, he’ll squeeze his eyes shut and in his words “prepare for the worst.”

- speaking of preparing, he’s also pretty protective and is always ready. he may not seem like it, but when it comes to you (and his brother) he wants to make sure you guys are healthy and well at all times.

+ he’ll have an extra blanket and pair of clothes in a bag in the trunk of his car just for you. he has an extra bottle of water to fill his hydro cause he knows how you drink (“hog”) all his water.

- he’s very caring, even though is comes off a bit blunt and aggressive, he means well :(

- he’ll act like everything’s a chore, rolling his stews and tell you “no” when you ask of something but he’ll do it anyway

- if anyone dares give you shit, he will hover behind you and death glare them.

- he radiated short temper, but he doesn’t lose his cool in a toxic way. he just irritates easily. but he tolerates it from you only.

brb i need to make my own post-😭

HI PLEASE PLEASE MAKE A PORCO POST LIKE....YOU MUST LIVE INSIDE HIS HEAD THE WAY THESE ARE ALL SO PERFECT AND SPOT ON!!

every single one of these hcs is porcocore and i'm living for them THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONTRIBUTION ILY

[hornime]

home workout | bokuto koutarou x gn!reader

“i’d let you do- do anything. anything you wan’ to me. i’m yours. all- all,” his voice raised a few octaves as the inside of your thighs brushed past his cockhead, “yours. all yours.”

warnings: 18+, sub!bokuto, jealous!reader (i mean who wouldn’t be when bokuto, your goddamn boyfriend, is perceived by other people the fuck), also lowkey possessive!reader, lotsa licking and sucking, nipple play, some praise (from reader) and some begging, brief mention of dacryphilia, kinda soft at the end

w/c: 1.5k sheesh

a/n: bokuto brainrot has me in literal tears. him being completely clueless to people flirting w him cus he doesn’t recognize romance from anyone but you has me so soft. i luv this man w my whole heart !!!!! ALSO THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE ON THE BAKUGO FIC I JUST ABOUT SHIT MY PANTS WOOWWOWO

you weren’t an idiot. you knew that your boyfriend was attractive in literally every aspect of the word. he was sweet, patient, and kind, and what he lacked in academic smarts was made up tenfold in his emotional maturity and ability to read people. big and beefy, bokuto was all yours and all you wanted to stay trapped within his arms forever. unfortunately, to maintain the figure you adored so much and stay in shape for the volleyball season, he had to leave the four walls of your shared bedroom far more than you liked, having a daily obligation to spend a few hours at the gym.

once again, you weren’t an idiot. the few times that your work schedule and his training schedule aligned, you’d been able to work out together. and despite your knowledge of just how good-looking bokuto was and the fact that other people could perceive him (much to your chagrin) you were shocked at just how much people shamelessly flirted with him. 

cute girls with matching leggings and sports bras practically clung to his biceps, gushing about how strong he was and how he could probably pick them up with just one hand. their incessant giggling, mesmerizing hair twirling, and teasing touches pissed you off to no end, and you’d tug your boyfriend away before their breasts got too close to him for your liking.

something else you noticed was that, no matter how blatantly obvious the girls seemed to be, the guys were somehow worse, flirting through terms you couldn’t even understand. they compared deadlift weights, bicep curls, hip thrusts; you gritted your teeth thinking about whether they’d ever compared cock sizes in the locker room—you wouldn’t put it past those thirsty gym rats. sneaky bastards.

and bokuto, of course, was oblivious to it all. how could you blame him—he was so used to being adored! you knew that, to him, all of their praises paled in comparison to yours, but you couldn’t help but feel jealous. he was all yours—should be all yours—and you hated sharing him with the world.

you woke up saturday morning with a ringing in your ears, hand smacking the nightstand trying to turn off that god-awful alarm noise, bleary eyes barely able to focus on the text notification from your boyfriend.

[5:33 AM] kou: gm babe!!!! i didnt wanna wake u up cus u looked so peaceful! im heading to the gym rn. text me when ur up! love uu

[5:34 AM] kou: should be home around 9!! gym bud wants to show me something so i might be a little late for breakfast.

just to reiterate, you weren’t an idiot. for all the annoying flirting you noticed when you were with bokuto, there was no doubt in your mind that there must be a lot more when he was at the gym alone, which, unluckily for you, was most of the time since he was a freakin’ pro athlete and all.

you couldn’t prevent the pool of envy from swirling in your gut. gym bud? are you serious? who could that be? the girl with the arm tat or the dude with the dreads? no, maybe its that yoga instructor with the ass—

you shook your head, clearing your brain. you’d be here for hours if you went through everyone at that stupid gym that had ever shown interest in bokuto. the clock read 9:53 AM and the green flame in your body only burned brighter. just as you were about to call him and ask where he was, the front door slammed open.

“babe! i’m home!”

you silently put your phone down, teeth still clenching in jealousy. for some reason, hearing his voice only exacerbated the tension in your shoulders. you needed him. now.

“babe?” his voice creeped closer as he tread through the hallway towards the room. “you up?”

you peeked your head out of the doorframe, cheery voice masking your devilish intentions, “kou!"

his eyes brightened as he made eye contact with you and flashed his trademark smile. “hey! what’s u-” he took in the mischievous glint in your eyes “-p?”

you grabbed his burly forearm, yanking him behind you and walking towards him, forcing him to stumble and fall back on the bed. “wait! i’m all gross and sweaty,” he said, “gym showers were broke-”

“i don’t care. take off your shirt.”

“wow, someone’s eager. missed me that much?”

“watch it,” you glared. “i’m not in the mood, kou.”

he gulped at the dominance radiating from your voice, scrambling to take off the t-shirt that stretched between his pecs perfectly. with the fabric off and throw haphazardly to the side, he looked to you expectantly, the epitome of innocence.

your eyes wandered over his sculpted chest, the remnants of a soft sheen of sweat from his workout making it shine in the sunlight pouring through the blinds. your heart stuttered in your chest—he looked like an angel. coupled with the way with his bottom lip was tucked under his front teeth and the wide, anticipating look in his eyes, fuck. you almost smiled how blessed you felt in that moment, to see him in such a raw, alluring position, before a jarring thought caused your lips to twitch back into a frown.

everyone else can see him, too.

your eyes hardened. maybe they can see him all big and strong, you thought, but they’ll never get to see him like this: submissive.

and so fucking sensitive.

within an instant, your lips were latched on the soft spot above his collarbone, causing him to whimper in pleasure. you continued to travel along his throat, slowly working your way to the other side of his neck and crossing back to nibble at his adam’s apple.

you unexpectedly pulled away, drawing a short whine from him, before repositioning yourself so that you were straddling his outstretched legs. slowly, starting from the hem of his shorts, you dragged your tongue between the ridges of his abs, moving up towards his pecs, tasting the saltiness of his sweat and feeling the muscles tense underneath.

“fuck,” he groaned. as your lips puckered around one of his peaked nipples, he uncontrollably jerked his hips up, inadvertently rubbing his sensitive cock between your legs. overwhelmed by the sensation, he moaned. “fuck.”

“you taste good,” you muttered, grazing your teeth over his other nipple. “just wanna taste you all the time. you’d let me, right?”

thoughts muddled by just how good everything felt, he nodded mindlessly. “i’d let you do- do anything. anything you wan’ to me. i’m yours. all- all,” his voice raised a few octaves as the inside of your thighs brushed past his cockhead, “yours. all yours.”

you paused. raising your head from his chest, you made eye contact with him, so intense he almost closed his eyes to shield himself from the blaze burning in your dilated pupils. “why’d you stop,” he begged, “i want more. feels so good and i wan’ mor-”

“say it again,” you demanded. “tell me that you’re mine.”

his eyes, glossed over and prickled with tears precariously close to falling, squeezed tightly as he spoke, unable to control the growing volume of his voice. “’m all yours. always. all yo- yours.” he gasped as you resumed your movements, pinching the sensitive skin around his v-line while fervently leaving sloppy kisses on his chest. 

“good boy.”

he keened at your praise. another light touch to his cock combined with the passage of your mouth had him trembling, and his breath hitched as he cried out in warning, tears now flowing freely over his flushed cheeks. “m’ gonna cum, ‘m gonna, gonna cum.”

“yeah?” you whispered, lips brushing against his strained abs. “go ahead then.”

“fuck!” he whined, blabbering as you sat back and watched in awe of the beauty before you, a big strong man like him reduced to nothing more than a moaning mess. “fuck, fuck—you always make me feel so, s-so go-od, fuck i love you.”

with soaked shorts and an exhausted sigh, he dropped his head back onto the plush comforter of the bed. you flattened your palms on his quivering body, reeling from the aftershocks of his orgasm. he panted, running his fingers through your hair before nudging your face to look at him, staring at you with an expression of pure bliss and adoration. he studied you for a bit before declaring with a soft smile, “you’re the best. so fuckin’ happy that i’m yours.”

driven by affection, he sat up and reached his arms around your waist, snuggling his chin over your shoulder and mashing your chests, yours clothed and his naked, together. “kou wait!” you shrieked. “you’re all sweaty again! it’s gross!”

he chuckled. as if you hadn’t been spoiling him by licking it up just a few minutes ago. “you’re right. i‘m probably sweating more now than i was after my workout.”

at that, your ears perked up. “well maybe you should do home workouts more often then,” you teased.

“you’re right,” he repeated with a grin, “maybe i should.” if it meant more mornings like these, he’d forego the gym in a heartbeat. 

that night, he canceled his gym membership. after all, he reasoned, it’s offseason anyway.

© property of hornime 2021. do not plagiarize any of my writing and do not repost/copy my writing onto any other sites.

[iheartgarrus]

The Walk Before the Run

It's the Jali one-shot, finally! This ship would literally never have crossed my mind without this post from @asianshep. Thank you sincerely for the brainrot.

Title comes from "Glitter in the Air" by Pink, which is an excellent song for this ship imo, and this will likely not be the last time I use it.

Thanks and much love to @lerr-writes-fic for betareading and to @nicolasadrabbles for loaning me a couple character names!

Title: The Walk Before the Run Rating: T Content: Alcohol, mild language Pairing: James Vega/Tali'Zorah vas Normandy Genre: Fluff Word Count: 3370 AO3 Link

Tali let loose another muttered curse at the error on her screen. She was seriously considering intimidating the console into behaving with her shotgun - it certainly worked on people. The engineering team had woken up that morning to a 0.4% drop in drive core efficiency, seemingly out of nowhere, and the cause was still a total mystery, even into the midday hours. They were all working the problem, though Adams had gone for a walk around the ship, saying it helped him think sometimes. So when she heard the elevator a moment later, she thought he must be back - hopefully with some new ideas, if they had any luck.

So she was surprised and a little miffed when the next words she heard were not, "Great news: I know what the problem is!" but instead, "Hey, Sparks, how's it hangin'?"

Tali's hands paused over the console, and her brow creased behind her faceplate. "Fine…" she replied slowly, continuing her work on the engine. "I'm a little busy though. Did you need something, Vega?"

"Oh. Well, uh-" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, there's something I wanted to... show you. On the Citadel."

She stopped typing again, this time turning around to face him. "On the Citadel? What would you have to show me on the Citadel?" Mentally, she cursed her curiosity for getting the better of her. She really didn't have time for this.

He grinned with a feigned confidence that Tali saw right through. "Wouldn't wanna ruin the surprise. But," he hurriedly continued when she crossed her arms over her chest, radiating skepticism and impatience, "I promise you'll like it. Shepard even said so!"

She raised a brow. "You talked to Shepard about this?"

"Yeah, I mean-" He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced off to the side, bravado melting away. "Had to clear the shore leave and everything. Make sure I could borrow her best engineer for a night."

"Hey!" Gabby protested from her station. James' complexion darkened a few shades, seemingly having forgotten that there were witnesses to his fumbling.

"Anyway," he continued, his voice strung tight with nerves. "If you're up for it, we can meet up by Edroki Plaza in Kithoi Ward tomorrow at 1800. What do you say?"

Tali eyed him silently as she weighed her options - making him sweat was just a bonus. There was no way they wouldn't have the engine figured out by then, and while she knew James was no danger to her, that didn't mean some mystery date was a good idea. Still, her curiosity tugged at her, and if Shepard had endorsed whatever the hell this was…

"I'll think about it."

~~~

Later, Tali approached Shepard at her terminal in the War Room. "Hey, Shepard?"

"Mm?" Shepard hummed through a sip of cold coffee, eyes trained on the screen.

"What is James doing?"

Shepard set her mug down and began replying to a message. "What, like right now?"

Tali huffed, crossing her arms in an echo of her earlier pose. "No, I mean… He said he wants to 'show me something on the Citadel'. He said he talked to you about it."

"Ah. That," Shepard said with a rare, secretive smile. "Yeah, you should do that."

"But what is it?" she asked, oozing exasperation.

Shepard finally paused her work to turn and face her friend, leaning one hip against the desk. "Can't tell you that. But trust me. You'll be glad you went."

Tali narrowed her eyes and stared Shepard down, tapping her fingers on her elbow, hoping (foolishly, she knew) that her Commander would take pity on her and tell her what was going on.

But, as ever, pity was not in Viola Shepard's vocabulary.

Tali threw her hands up with an indignant groan. "Keelah, fine. I'll go. But I'd better not regret this, or I'm coming after you, Shepard." She turned and all but stomped out of the War Room.

"Have fun, Tali!" Shepard called out, eyes already back on her screen.

~~~

Barely dodging a deeply disgruntled-looking quarian, Garrus entered the War Room with a steaming mug in each hand and headed over to Shepard's terminal. "So," he drawled as he placed one of the mugs at her side. "Is she gonna go?"

Shepard pressed 'Send' on her message and moved on to the next. "Yep."

"Too bad," Garrus said mournfully, "I was gonna ask Jimmy to take me."

She snorted. "Nerd."

~~~

By the time Tali got to the meeting point, James was already waiting - anxiously, if the way he kept scanning the area and bouncing on the balls of his feet was any indication. She paused before she got too close, observing him for a moment and wondering for the hundredth time in the last 20 hours just what had gotten into him. He checked the time on his omni-tool, spurring her to do the same. 1800 on the dot. It would be cruel, she supposed, to be late and make him question if she was coming at all. She shook her head, still wary of this entire situation despite trusting Shepard's judgment implicitly, and continued walking in James' direction. "Can't wait to see what this is all about," she muttered.

When he caught sight of her, James ceased his bouncing, and his face broke out in a grin. "Hey hey! You made it!" he exclaimed.

His unmistakable joy at her arrival filled Tali with a lightness that she refused to examine too closely, and she found herself suppressing a tiny smile. "Yep, I'm here, James. Now, will you please tell me why I’m here?"

His smile turned sly. "Said I was gonna show you, remember? Follow me." Without waiting for her reply, he turned and headed down the main thoroughfare of Kithoi Ward's Market District. Tali followed with a huff, plenty tired of the secrecy by now, but she said nothing - he clearly wasn't going to give anything else up until they reached their destination. They walked side-by-side in silence, the din of the crowds and the ads calling out for their attention doing little to ease the awkwardness. After a minute, James cleared his throat. "So…" he said, trying to fill the space. "How's uh, being an Admiral?"

She snorted. "Honestly, it's a whole lot of bullshit."

"Heh." He glanced down at her before checking a street sign. "So politics really are the same in every species, huh?"

"It seemed like a much better system when I was younger," she said earnestly. "Even if it meant my father was busy all the time, I thought they were really getting things done, doing what was best for the Flotilla. But…" She trailed off with a sigh. "Look, it's not like it's all bad. But now that I've seen what goes on behind the scenes - let's just say I guess I was a little naive."

"I hear ya," he replied with a nod. "But hey, ain't that what bein' a kid is all about?"

"Yeah," she conceded. "I just wish I'd been more prepared, I guess."

He caught her eye again and smiled. "Far as I can tell, you're killin' it, Sparks."

She couldn't help smiling back, just a little. "Still a terrible nickname. But thanks."

"Anytime- Oh, we gotta turn here." He pointed out a nearby alley that was not as well lit as Tali would typically have liked - if she were with anyone but a trusted member of Shepard's crew, she wouldn't have taken a step further.

As it was, she swallowed her instinctual objections and followed James down the alley. Then down another, and another, as he steered them through the maze that the Ward became off the beaten path. After the fifth turn, she was growing frustrated. "James, where are we go-"

"Aha! Here it is!" he proclaimed triumphantly. He finally led them down a short flight of stairs to a basement door guarded by a single, unarmored turian. Tali couldn't help but look over her shoulder, wary of who might be lurking around a place like this. Keelah, could this place be any shadier?

Distracted, she nearly missed James transmitting something from his omnitool to the guard's and didn't get a look quickly enough to see what it was. The guard scrutinized whatever James had sent, nodded, and opened the door to let them inside with a mumbled, "Enjoy the show."

Show? What kind of show would be in… Tali's thoughts trailed off at the sight of the space that opened up before her. The first thing she noticed was how clean it was, in contrast with her expectations of a basement buried in a labyrinth of alleyways in the Wards. Bars bustling with patrons and servers lined either side of the tastefully decorated room, and the floor space - easily equalling the main floor of Purgatory in size - was filled by about a dozen small tables with accompanying chairs, holo-candles flickering at the center of each. Small parties of two or three sat around all but a handful of the tables, drinking, chatting, and laughing as if there weren't a galaxy-wide war going on. Mostly turians, she observed, but also more quarians than you typically saw in one place on the Citadel. The focal point, though, was clearly the modest stage at the far side of the venue. Currently dark, it waited in anticipation of whatever all of these people - including herself, apparently - were there to see.

James let out a low whistle, recapturing Tali's attention. "Man, place looks fancy all set up like this."

She tilted her head. "You mean you've never been here before?"

"Not when it was actually open," he explained, leading her over to one of the last empty tables. "I got the tip from a guy down at the docks whose brother works here. Came to scope it out a few days ago to make sure it was legit."

Seconds after they took their seats, a turian server came over and offered to take their drink orders - if he thought them an odd pair, he didn't comment. "Quarian-safe offerings tonight are a horosk-and-seltzer cocktail, dextro heat sink, and needor wine from the Joleya. All fully filtered, of course."

Tali's eyes widened at the last option. "You have needor wine?! I've never even seen it outside of the Flotilla!"

The server's mandibles flared in a polite smile. "For tonight? Of course. Can I get you a glass?"

"Please," Tali replied eagerly.

"Gladly. And for you, sir, our levo options include Akantha, a Bekenstein ale, and…" he paused and his smile faltered. "Well, ryncol, just in case, but I don't recommend-"

James laughed heartily. "Nah, man, that's okay. Y'know, I've never had Akantha, but I hear it's great - let's give that a shot."

The server relaxed again and nodded. "Perfect, I'll be right back with those. The show will be starting in about ten minutes."

Once he was gone, James reclined a bit in his chair and surveyed the venue, the picture of cool and collected aside from his leg bouncing under the table. Tali considered him for a moment. Even if she still didn't know what kind of 'show' they were waiting for, she wasn't an idiot - she knew he was trying very hard to impress her. It was… sweet, even if she wasn't quite sure how she should - or wanted to - respond to it. "Hey," she said to catch his attention. "Whatever it is we're here for, I wasn't sure I'd ever have needor wine again, after the Flotilla stayed on Rannoch. So, thank you for that, at least."

He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table with a soft smile like she'd never seen from him before. "No problem, Tali. I just-" He cut himself off and shook his head. "Nah, never mind. So-" He cleared his throat. "That wine, it's pretty rare?"

She found herself really curious about what he had stopped himself from saying, but she let it slide. "Extremely," she replied instead. "Quarians don't make very much alcohol - well, not to drink, anyway. There's not a lot of space in the Flotilla to dedicate to non-essentials. Needor are a fruit native to Rannoch that we managed to take with us when we were driven off the planet. There are just three liveships that ferment it into wine, and as far as I knew, it was never exported. Production stopped when the war started, so…” Her gaze fell to the table. “There isn't much left now."

James gently laid his hand on Tali's shoulder - keelah, his hands are huge - but stayed quiet. That was one thing she appreciated about the Normandy crew: they were all far beyond platitudes by now. She sighed, comforted by the touch. "It's okay. I'll make the most of it.”

He lightly squeezed her shoulder before removing his hand and leaning back away from the table as the server approached with their drinks. Tali perked up at the sight of her glass (complete with ‘emergency induction port’) and, after offering a quick thanks, took an eager sip. She could feel James’ eyes on her even as he lifted his Akantha to his lips, but she was too focused on the delicate sweet-sour flavor of her wine to care. Her eyes slipped closed as she hummed blissfully. It was definitely from the Joleya, just a touch on the sweeter side compared to the varieties from the other two ships. She wondered if she could do some digging and find out who this place had gotten it from. It might be nice to have a bottle stowed away for a special occasion - winning a war, for example.

She set the glass down, wanting to take her time with it, and opened her eyes just in time to see James' gaze flick away from hers. Her cheeks warmed as she frowned a bit. How long had he been acting like this around her? It seemed so obvious now, and Tali thought herself pretty astute when it came to things like... well. But until he came to see her yesterday, she hadn't noticed anything off, aside from his initial fumbling attempt at a nickname. And now, the nerves, the staring, and all this effort he'd gone to - was it just that she hadn't been paying him any mind?

The thought bothered her, for some reason.

"James-" she started to ask, but she was interrupted by the house lights suddenly dimming while the stage lights came up. There was no announcer or introduction, just the low buzz of excited whispers in the audience for a couple of minutes while Tali grew increasingly restless. She thought she could hear James' fingers tapping arrhythmically on the table as well.

Finally, fading in over the speakers on the walls, an opening chord that Tali would recognize anywhere. She gasped, "That's-"

"Let the moon's shining light hide two lovers with its rays..."

Her next words were supplanted by a high-pitched squeal (one of a few in the room) when two singers took the stage, intoning in harmony. Because keelah, it was Jaani'Dal vas Raenna and Quintus Virinius, dressed casually but no less recognizable (mainly by voice, in Jaani's case), hitting every note of Fleet and Flotilla's love theme with effortless precision.

Tali barely blinked for the next three minutes, mouth hanging open and eyes laser-focused on the stage until the song reached a stunning crescendo, sending a chill up and down her spine before she leapt from her chair in applause along with the rest of the audience. Broken out of her trancelike state, she finally looked at James again, standing next to her and clapping as well, though looking a bit less like he was about to vibrate out of his skin from excitement than she did. She leaned closer and raised her voice to be heard over the cheers from the crowd. "What is this?" she asked.

He bent his head to answer near her helmet's auditory receptors. "They're putting together this charity concert tour here on the Citadel, but they have these underground dry runs first. That's why it's not advertised yet - you gotta know somebody," he told her with a wink.

She opened her mouth to reply, but a hush fell over the crowd as the next song began. Instead, she took her seat and contented herself with enjoying the drinks, the music, and the company, shutting out the war raging across the galaxy for just a couple of hours.

~~~

"I'm still in shock," Tali gushed as they made their way back to the Normandy late that night. The D docks weren't as bustling as they were during the Presidium's day cycle, but the bounce in her step still drew a few glances. "How did you even hear about this? I know you said that guy at the docks, but I wouldn't have even known to ask."

"Oh, uh," James coughed and did that awkward neck rub thing again. "They were talkin' about movies, and I asked if any of them had seen Fleet and Flotilla since I heard you talking about it in the mess a couple weeks ago. Apparently it's real popular with turians and that was a stupid question." Her quiet giggle seemed to relax him a bit as he chuckled along. "So I told him I had this friend who was a big fan, and he said it was my lucky day if I could beat him on the next hand. Good thing I've been letting those guys think I was lousy at cards," he confided with a mischievous smirk.

The fact that he'd been talking about her to strangers - asking about things she liked - made her all but certain that she really hadn't been paying attention to how he must've been acting around her. There was no way she could've missed this if she had been - tonight had proven that he couldn't play it cool with her if he tried.

All this time, he liked her.

She probably needed to figure out what to do with that.

As they stepped into the airlock and waited for the decontamination cycle, Tali realized she was still smiling softly, and this time when she made eye contact with him, he didn't look away. She felt herself blush and was grateful, not for the first time, that he couldn't see it. "James..." she said quietly, fiddling with the edge of her hood. "Thank you. I had a lot of fun, and maybe I needed a night off more than I realized. It was... sweet of you to think of me."

He grinned broadly, and her traitorous little heart skipped a beat. "Anytime, Tali. And you know, you can always come down and say hey when you need a break." The decon cycle finished, and they walked through the CIC together to the elevator. Tali pretended she didn't notice a few of the night crew smiling at them as they stepped in. Ships and their gossip...

James pressed the buttons for the Crew Deck and Engineering as the doors closed - Tali had never gotten out of the habit of sleeping near the comforting hum of the Normandy's engines. "Maybe I will," she said slowly. "And maybe..." She hesitated. Ah, what the hell... "Maybe we can find something else to do next time we're on the Citadel."

His eyes went wide, and for a few moments, he just gaped at her, but a curious tilt of her head seemed to snap him out of it. "You- I mean, yeah! Yeah, that sounds great. It's a... plan." Now his blush was perfectly visible.

She giggled again and took his hand for a brief squeeze. "Good night, James," she said teasingly, nodding toward the open elevator doors.

As he backed out, Tali was struck by the memory of a human gesture Kasumi had once taught her. Before she could talk herself out of it, she lifted her hand to her helmet's mouthpiece, made a 'mwah' sound, turned her palm up, and blew in James' direction.

He stopped dead in his tracks, just outside of the elevator, and she might've thought she'd remembered 'blowing a kiss' wrong if it weren't for his dazed, softly muttered, "Holy hell," as the doors slid closed.

[euryd-ce]

❁ CRYOPHOBIA

PAIRING: Yandere! Sophia! Melly Plinius x Blind! GN! Reader

CW: Delusional Mindsets, General Yandere Themes, Implied Murder, Kidnapping, Mutilation, Nonconsensual Touching, Obsessive Behavior, Stalking

NOTE: brainrot based, may not be super accurate.

The people around you have always said you were blessed by the divine. Some even speculated that you were the mortal incarnate of the ancient god behind the blazing sun.

You were born silent and as cold as ice - far colder than any newborn should have been. It was a lost cause, your parents were told upon learning you were not dead yet. A few hours from your birth, you were to succumb to death, the doctor claimed. But within the minuscule time you had left, it seemed as if the deities pitied you.

Your ice-like exterior was quickly replaced by a gentle warmth akin to the bright distant sun, and you let out a giggle instead of the usual cries of a newborn child. Unable to explain what had happened to you, the doctors claimed that a miracle had occurred. A miracle at the cost of your sight, that is. The colorful world that eagerly awaited its exploration was quickly replaced by an indescribable nothingness; you had gone blind.

Your blindness, however, didn't stop your parents from giving you the love you deserved nor did it stop you from pursuing what you wanted. As you grew older, you eventually learned to play a flute - the Sveril, they called it. And you played it quite well despite your blindness, enough to attract a crowd that stayed to listen to your tunes and to bask in the warmth your body seemed to radiate, enough to attract the embodiment of Frost itself.

It was a glance, at first, a glance that told her far too little for her liking. Melly happened to see you through the window of the train she took back to the palace. You were seated by what looked like a tavern, playing the flute for a crowd of townsfolk. The sight of you brought her the foreign yet familiar feeling of... warmth. A feeling that layers and layers of carefully made clothing failed to provide, a feeling that she craved for ages.

One glance quickly became long hours of staring as she no longer relied on trips to various places just to look at you; she came to one of your little performances herself.

You knew something was off when you didn't hear the usual applause when you ended your piece. 'Something must have happened', you thought, and you were affirmed when you heard the slow crunching of snow accompanied by the rustling of rather heavy clothing, likely adorned with jewelry based off the sound of clicking.

Whoever was moving must have suddenly stopped, as all you heard was light breathing and the calm whispers of the winter wind.

"...Who are you?" You blurted out to the unfamiliar figure in front of you, before instinctively grabbing whatever was in front of your face, a bad habit of yours that elicited gasps from your onlookers.

To your surprise, the first thing you felt was how cold this person was. Which was a surprise with how the warmth you were blessed with seemed to nullify any frigid feeling around you. You almost wanted to relish the coolness until the feeling of fine silk, pearl beads, and fur registered into your head; whoever you were touching just now must have been very wealthy, or perhaps was a person of royalty.

You quickly retracted your hands at the realization and gave a small bow, "I'm- my apologies... T-that was rather brash of me..."

She let out a little chuckle, "...Must you know?"

"...Excuse me, what?"

"Your question, dear."

"Ah, w-well... No..." You said. After all, you didn't know most of your onlookers personally. You'd only recognize them through their rather distinct voices.

Two gloved hands made their way to your cheeks, and the same cool feeling from before returned, "Then I shall take my leave." The woman said before quickly retracting her hands and leaving you stunned in place.

Melly on the other hand was much more thrilled than she seemed. When you reached out and grabbed her intricate headpiece, she immediately felt even warmer than she did by just looking at you. It was... addicting. Had the crowd not been there, she wouldn't have hesitated to pull you closer and into an embrace, as if you were two lovers that had recently reunited.

That encounter gave her information she believed was important. Your warmth did not only come from the alluring looks that pulled her in; you were literally far warmer than any normal human being. It dawned on her that you weren't just someone she wanted to be around, but you were someone she desperately needed in order to relieve herself from the freezing cold of her body.

She also figured you were blind to some extent. It was made quite obvious when you would feel your surroundings, and even more so when you touched her. Anyone with perfectly functioning eyes wouldn't dare touch her, unless they had a death wish. But you seemed to do so without hesitation, as if she were any normal townswoman, albeit... one that stood too close to your liking.

The grip you had on her was quite overwhelming. She found herself changing several arrangements she had scheduled months prior into plans centered toward you. They mostly involved getting information about you, ranging from things as basic as your name - which was much harder to find out than she thought - to what you liked and disliked, and even oddly specific details such as how you slept at night.

What had initially been one visit became a part of her daily routine. Whenever your performance ended and your listeners had long gone back to their businesses, you would hear her - the mysterious woman from before - ask for some privacy. Shortly after you'd feel a familiar comforting coldness that normally came with little conversations about yourself. Things that she already knew.

It reached the point where you found her actions rather... invasive.

You used to shrug off the playful touches she'd leave on random parts of your body (such as your cheek) because truth be told, you liked the cold far more than you initially thought you would. But you were aware of your own boundaries, and you knew where you drew the line.

Her hands were on your shoulders at first, and you thought it was fine. That was until they very slowly made their way downward until they rested on your waist. You were going to tell her to stop, that you were frightened, and that you didn't like what she was doing, but you suddenly felt her chilly breath on your neck.

You slapped her. Hard.

The sound of your slap echoed in your ears, causing you to feel a sudden rush of guilt despite what she did. But before you could let out a word, Melly apologized first.

"That... What I did was not acceptable. I don't know what took over me, I'm sorry, (Name)..." Melly said as she rubbed her cheek.

Your slap felt like a burn, a punishment for walking too close to the sun, closer than anyone would ever think of going. It brought her to her senses, made her realize that being around you was making her lose her composure, that perhaps there was more to your warmth than just its comfort. That maybe, just maybe she might have feelings for you.

Reluctantly, you forgave her, not without asking for space. To which she said she'd gladly give you, but in a voice laced with hesitation and a hint of sadness. Both of you parted ways after that, but it left you uneasy, especially when you were left with a question you doubt would be answered anytime soon.

...How did she know your real name?

Three months passed since your last encounter with the lady of frost. The fact that she knew your real name still terrified you, especially when the subject of your names were never brought up in the few conversations you've held with her.

To the rest of the townspeople, you were called nicknames, often in relation to the sun, but never your real name, which had been kept a secret for reasons rooted in the miracle of your birth. For that lady to have found out, she must have been following you or your parents an awful lot longer than anyone should have.

With the woman giving you the space you asked for, you thought you would have found peace, but with the little slip up she made, you couldn't help but be paranoid. It's not like you could tell that she was being truthful. She could have been watching you from a farther distance for all you knew, far enough to observe you, and far enough for you not to feel her presence.

It was true, to some extent. She had in fact been watching. Unbeknownst to you, she had her eyes and ears all around you. Some being your dedicated listeners, others being little critters that no one would have ever suspected: her insects. Melly would keep herself occupied with the tidbits of information she'd be given about you. She missed you, but the distance between you two did not worry her one bit. After all, it would soon be severed, and it was only a matter of time before the day would come.

You woke up to several distressed screams and the sound of a nearby window shattering. Your town was under attack, and you were absolutely frozen and helpless against the situation. It didn't help that you were trapped inside your room. You didn't know where your parents were, or if they were even alive, but all you could do was hide underneath your bed and wish for your survival.

The sound of heavy footsteps filled your ears. Painfully slow footsteps that seemed to be taunting you. As if they knew you where you were already, and simply wanted you to suffer through the anxiety of a slowly impending doom. The footsteps stopped, and you let out a sigh of relief that was quickly cut off by the loud slamming of your door, to which you let out an involuntary gasp.

The figure who taunted you was now in front of you, you could feel it. Suddenly, you were dragged out from beneath your bed and hit by something heavy and blunt. And before you fell into unconsciousness, you were barely able to make out what the man had said,

"No ... feelings, ... queen ... high ...-ty ..."

Upon regaining consciousness, your body immediately shot up as memories from the night before flooded your brain. You were on a soft surface, a bed, and you felt shackles on one of your now bare feet when you tried to move around; you were chained to the bed. The sound of chains violently thrashing about echoed throughout the large room you were in, and you felt a presence that was all too familiar to you.

She was beside you.

"Who are you?!" You yelled.

Melly hummed before moving closer to you, "You don't need to know, do you?"

"I DO!" You spat. "You're that queen, aren't you!? You sent people after me, did you!?"

She didn't respond, but you felt her gaze. An agitated sigh escaped your mouth, "Where... are my parents?"

You hadn't heard of them since yesterday morning, hours before the attack. Considering the hopelessness of your situation, you thought that you might as well ask if she had anything to do with them.

But instead of giving you a proper answer, she gently turned your head to face her direction, "...Look at me when you're talking, dear."

"Tch, don't 'dear' me... ANSWER M-" you were cut off by the bitter cold of her bare hand harshly making contact with your cheek.

She slapped you, and it was cold. Too cold for your liking.

It practically felt like having to stand amidst a blizzard after being doused in several buckets of water. Your sun-like warmth amounted to nothing against the overwhelming strength of her frost; you almost froze. You raised one of your hands and tried to bring it toward your cheek, but it was taken away by Melly's harsh grip before you could. The freezing temperatures of her hand combined with the force of her grip quickly made your entire arm numb.

"You will not talk to me like that, dearest..." She scolded - and emphasized the 'est' - before you heard the rattling of chains. This time, she put shackles on both your wrists.

"Now behave, and maybe I'll reward you later," She giggled before snuggling close to you.

...She never answered your question.

You couldn't tell how long its been ever since the day, but you were disgusted at what you had become: a lapdog whose only purpose was to follow Melly around. Contrary to what you thought would happen, she never forced herself upon you. Throughout the time you had spent with her, the farthest she crossed was cuddling with you in your sleep. And if you were well behaved, she'd even let you sleep without the shackles.

There came a point where she had some serious business to attend to, so you were left alone. Alone in the infinitely large palace with no shackles to hold you down. Escape was right at your reach, that is, if you were brave enough to take the opportunity.

There were two ways you thought your escape would turn out. The first one being that, you'd succeed, but wouldn't know where to go next. Whenever Melly brought you around her palace, you'd make it a point to memorize every step you'd take. Thanks to your efforts, you became familiar with enough turns and enough rooms to make a decent amount of progress to escaping. Which then leads to the second and more likely possibility: your failure.

You didn't want to underestimate the size of the palace nor did you want to be overconfident with your current capabilities. Sneaking around and hiding were never your strong points. For all you know, your wandering around may be made known to Melly by one of her staff, and she'd surely be quick to return. You didn't even want to think about what she'd possibly do if she found out...

It was irrational to try to escape, if you thought about it. You were blind, you had no proper plan of escape, and even if you did escape, you realized that Melly likely had a means and a plan prepared to bring you back to her. But you were desperate, so you ran.

You quickly retraced all the steps you took, taking familiar turns and entering familiar rooms, and before you knew it, you were in front of a very large door. Doubt began to grow inside of you with how everything seemed too good to be true. Surely, Melly wasn't this careless, and surely, this couldn't have happened by chance, could it?

You opened the door and immediately felt a rush of wind; it definitely was a way out, but you didn't know where exactly. But before you could take a step outside, you heard buzzing. It sounded like a swarm of insects, and it was approaching your direction. Doubt immediately became dread as the source of the sound surrounded you on all directions.

You felt some of the insects crawl up your legs and unto your feet. To your shock, they started gnawing on the skin they latched unto. These insects seemed to be trained in some way, trained to attack you. Screams of desperation and pain echoed throughout the interior of the palace for hours while your legs started to bleed in several places. Unknown to you, some of Melly's maids and butlers saw you, heard you even, but they didn't interfere out of fear of disobeying their master's orders.

Long after the insects stopped their relentless assault, Melly returned, unsurprised at your attempt to escape. She knew how you thought process worked, and she knew your desperation would overcome your rationality. The clicking of heels got louder whilst her cold aura made you shiver as she approached you and knelt down.

"Hmmm? Trying to run?" She cooed, as if to mock you.

As tears fell down your cheek, you sniffled, "Y-you're insane! A madwoman!"

"That I am," a gloved hand caressed your cheek. "But you're at fault, are you not?"

"Your insects, whatever they are... They ate my feet!" You accused.

"You tried to leave me." She retorted.

You couldn't believe what she was saying, "Why wouldn't I try? YOU KIDNAPPED ME! You don't under-"

"I do understand. You. Don't." She lightly flicked your forehead. "Do you not get it? We were made for each other. I belong to you just as much as you belong to me!"

She grabbed you by the collar of your clothes and started dragging you back into her abode. "You are the only one that can withstand me, the only one I can touch, the only one I've EVER touched. You should be grateful that I even found you, grateful that I still care about you no matter how much your resistance breaks my heart..."

Melly finally made it back to the room with her unconscious lover in her arms. "...and if you absolutely cannot grasp that, then I will make you."

Your first attempt at escape had also been your last, and the last that any outsider had ever seen or heard of you again. Like that of the ancient gods, your disappearance was an unfinished tale constantly retold with slight changes each time. In truth, only the Lady of Frost knew exactly what happened, but one thing was constant in all recountings:

The cold made you fear for your life.

The raging hatred of the sun was buried by love as gentle as snow, but never again did it shine for the snow-clad kingdom.