#square wave chip

[karolinedgmachinery]

75 95 square wave chips extruder making machine 2D pallet sun chips prod...

[juney-blues]

if i hear another person talk about a retro game, system, or computer having a specific "soundfont" i think i'm gonna lose all will to live and spontaneously drop dead in front of them

[malasquid]

So. I've Cracked The Code On The Appearance Changes in Side Order.

Wall of photos and such incoming.

After a lot of testing, I've discovered there are 7 different little lights and doodads that are added to Agent 8 via upgrading certain chips, each with a basic 1st tier and and upgraded 2nd tier. The 1st tier of upgrades appear after picking up two of the same chips in that changes pool (ex: 2 Homing Shots chips), with the 2nd tier appearing after picking up five of them (ex: 5 Homing Shot chips). There is no further visual indicators added for maxing chips that go beyond 5, such as Splash Damage or Rush Attack.

Full disclaimer: This is the result of researching a LOT of my own runs, so I can say this is true with about 95% certainty. If I labeled an ability chip in the wrong visual pool, please let me know!

Let's start with the basics - our control group. No Teal upgrades provide any visible changes to Agent 8 (or Pearl-bot for that matter), so I ran an all-teal palette to demonstrate.

First is likely one of the more requested visual changes - the Headset. The 1st tier sports a basic metallic earpiece, with the 2nd adding an antenna and eyepiece that match your primary ink color.

Maxing Splash Damage, Sound Wave Damage, Splash Radius, Special Charge Up, Turf Lucky Chain, Rush Knockback, and Homing Shots all provide the headset!

Next up is Ink Bubbles. The 1st tier shows transparent, slower bubbles flowing in 8's ink tank, with the bubbles being faster and more opaque in the 2nd tier.

Nabbing Poison Ink, Splat Ink Recovery, Ink Saver Sub, Ink Recovery Rate, Sticky Ink, and Explosion Knockback all provide Ink Bubbles.

Following that is the Fins. The 1st tier shows the base shackles being added to 8's boots, with the fins themselves being added for the 2nd tier.

Picking up Run Speed, Swim Speed, Rush Attack, Mobile Ink Recovery, Mobile Special Charge, and Mobile Drone Gauge all provide the Fins.

Now, moving on to the weapon upgrades!

First we have the Muzzle Lights, which appear at the muzzle of most weapons, and the sides of the brush and roller nearest the base. The 1st tier shows a circle and squares circling around the muzzle, with the 2nd tier being more exaggerated, with alternating squares and rectangles forming a hexagon pattern in the center.

These are exclusive to the Ink Damage, Main Damage (Close), and Main Damage (Distant) chips.

Next up is likely the most common visual one can see on their run - the Arrows. The 1st tier shows a circle with three arrows pointing down the weapon, with the 2nd tier adding some blowback markers behind the circle.

These are on a whopping TEN upgrades, being Splatling Barrage, Main Firing Speed, Horizontal Slash Speed, Main Range, Main Piercing, Main Ink Coverage, Rush Ink Coverage, Quick Charge, Shot Spread Reduction, and Ink Saver Main.

Last of the weapon upgrades are the Dots. The 1st tier is 3 large dots and a circle spinning at the bottom of your weapon or around your wrist, with the 2nd tier adding another circle around the dots.

These can be found on the Hindrance Damage, Ink Attack Size, Charge Storage, Moving Ink Speed, Extra Dodge Roll, Brella Cooldown, and Knockback upgrades.

And finally, my favorite little knick-knack, the Shrimp Hook. This little guy appears on your ink tank after picking up 2 matching Luck upgrades (ex: Lucky Bomb Drop, Canned Special Drop, etc), and begins to glow after picking up 5. However, the glowing effect is not visible in the post-game screen. 😔 (I would totally buy one of these if someone made one, btw)

By the way, 7 visual upgrades * 5 chips needed to max each visual is 35 chips, which is just shy of the 36 total chips you can have on one palette, which means, in theory, you could. Have every maxed visual indicator on in one run.

Just a thought. : )

[pin-k-ink]

rendezvous // nanami kento

tw ⇢ implied age gap, possessive!nanami, sexual tension, teasing, gloryhole, fingering, grinding, dub-con, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, biting, rough sex

wc ⇢ 6.4k

The door to Nanami's apartment burst open without preamble, the familiar whirlwind of energy you'd come to associate with your personal brand of chaos already whipping through the space.

"Nanami-san!" Your melodious voice rang out in greeting before you even fully crossed the threshold. "You'll never guess what outrageous thing just happ---ooh..."

Your impish flow of words stuttered to an abrupt halt as you caught sight of Nanami emerging from the bathroom. A towel hung precariously low around those slender hips you'd admired far too many times, leaving miles of toned muscle and glistening skin distractingly on display.

Despite your own tendency to flirt shamelessly, you still felt heat blossoming across your cheekbones at the unexpectedly intimate sight. Somehow you managed to rally enough to let your eyes perform a very slow, unabashed rake down the ridge of his abdomen and back up again.

"Well hello there, Nanami-san," you purred with a devilish lilt, emboldened by the brief flare of something akin to panic flickering across his typically unruffled features. "Don't mind me, please...continue putting on a show."

There it was - that fractional tightening at the corners of his clear grey eyes that signaled you'd successfully managed to rattle him, if only momentarily. Nanami tugged the towel a bit higher with an air of lofty disregard even as he arched one cool brow.

"You're incorrigible, you realize that?" His deep timbre managed to convey fond exasperation despite the husky undercurrent your mind unhelpfully insisted on reading into. "What part of boundaries or personal space fails to register with that troublesome brain of yours?"

You made a big show of propping your chin in your palms and appeared to consider his faux-stern chiding with exaggerated seriousness. "Well, now that you mention it...wiggling my way into your personal space uninvited is one of my favorite hobbies. Especially when you react like that."

Relishing the sight of the muscle feathering along Nanami's squared jawline, you punctuated your remark with another shameless once-over that had him huffing out a longsuffering sigh. You counted it as a victory any time that impeccably stoic facade chipped even a little.

"You're insufferable," he muttered again, somehow managing to infuse the insult with grudging fondness even as his eyes glittered like flint. "Well? Out with it then. What petulant nonsense demands my attention this time?"

Waving a hand carelessly, you straightened and finally tore your roving gaze away from the feast for the eyes that was Nanami's physique. "Oh, you know...the usual. One of your fellow Jujutsu sorcerers was being a disrespectful ass, prompting me to put him squarely in his place. By which I mean I may have given him a black eye..."

Nanami simply stared at you for a long beat, clearly trying to discern if you were joking or not. When your bright, innocent expression didn't crack, he blew out an exasperated sigh and scrubbed one hand down his face.

"Of course you did..." He muttered the words more to himself than you. "I don't know why I even bother questioning the antics you'll stoop to anymore."

"Hey!" You acted affronted, putting your hands on your hips. "That jerk had it coming. He made a few off-color remarks that I simply couldn't ignore."

Nanami's gaze sharpened a bit at that. "Remarks aimed at you?"

There was an undercurrent in his tone that sent a little thrill down your spine. You fought back a grin, having successfully piqued the protective edge you so loved provoking.

Waving a dismissive hand, you assured, "Nothing I couldn't handle, trust me. Let's just say that pig will be rethinking his vocabulary from here on out."

The slightest downturn of Nanami's lips signaled his disapproval, but rather than lecture, he simply shook his head. "I shouldn't be surprised you took matters into your own hands, as usual."

"You know how I abhor jerks who can't keep their traps shut," you said breezily, plopping down on his couch like you owned the place and stretching out languidly. You made sure to let your shirt ride up just a bit, offering a teasing glimpse of toned abdomen.

True to form, Nanami's eyes strayed there for the barest flicker before he averted his gaze with an undecipherable grunt. You bit back a grin of triumph.

"Why do I get the feeling you went out of your way to instigate this...black eye instance," he drawled after a moment, rejoining you in the living area. His towel had been swapped for a simple t-shirt and lounge pants that rode dangerously low on his hips. You made no effort to hide your frankly appraising gaze this time.

Stretching your arms up over your head, you played innocent. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Don't play coy." Nanami fixed you with that no-nonsense stare that always made something in the pit of your stomach go warm and liquidy. "You actively court trouble when left to your own devices."

"I simply have zero tolerance for rude, ill-mannered asses who deserve to be taken down a peg." You shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm doing the world a public service, really."

Nanami scoffed at that, but you caught the subtle twitch of his lips in a suppressed smirk. "A public service, she says..."

"Oh, admit it." You shot him a sly look, getting up and closing the distance between you with a provocative sway of your hips. "You love how I never back down from a conflict. How I always dish it back twice as hard as I get it."

Nanami visibly stiffened as you invaded his personal space, though his expression remained studiedly impassive. "And just what," he murmured in a pitched undertone, "is that supposed to imply, exactly?"

You grinned slowly, delighting in the way his gunmetal eyes involuntarily dropped to trace the swell of your lips. "Oh, I think you know perfectly well what I'm implying, Nanami-san..."

Trailing one fingertip up the center of his chest, you relished the way his musculature twitched beneath the whisper-light caress. Felt his shallow inhale as you leaned in until the subtlest shift would bring your bodies flush together.

"You can play dumb all you want," you murmured, purposefully allowing your warm breath to fan across his parted lips. "But we both know you get off on my...tenacious spirit, so to speak."

Nanami's jaw worked wordlessly for a moment, those versatile eyes darkening with unreadable intent. When he spoke again, his deep timbre had taken on a distinctly reverberated edge that danced like static electricity across your nerves.

"You seem to be operating under the misguided impression that I find your hotheaded antics charming in the slightest." One calloused palm rose to splay against your hip, the blistering heat of his skin raising delicious prickles despite the layers between you. "When in fact...I find them unbecoming. Childish, even."

You couldn't repress your full-body shiver at the subtle increase of pressure from his fingertips digging into your waistline. Nanami's mouth curved into a sharp smile at your reaction, gaze locked with searing intensity.

"Then again, perhaps a little...discipline might go a long ways towards reforming your more reckless habits." He punctuated the oblique suggestion by slowly trailing his other palm up the slender column of your neck until he cradled your jaw with just a hint of constriction.

Fire lanced through your veins at the titillating implication and naked challenge burning in Nanami's stare. You allowed your lashes to dip in a pointed sweep as a flush crept across your cheekbones.

"Is that...Is that a promise, Nanami-san?" You all but purred, leaning further into the scorching brand of his coaxing grip. "Because you know how I do love a good...disciplinary session..."

An imperceptible muscle ticked high on his cheekbone. Then Nanami gently but firmly extracted himself from your tangled orbit, spinning away to put critical distance between you. His next words emerged pitched low enough to resonant straight through your solar plexus.

"As tempting as that proposal is, you and I both know it's a dangerous road to travel." A weighty pause as you stared, rooted and ragingly at the rigid line of his back. "Play with fire often enough and someone inevitably gets burned, little wildflower."

He threw the husky endearment your way over one corded shoulder before slipping towards the kitchen, leaving you flushed and thunderously aroused and more than a little confused by his abrupt dismissal.

Something indecipherable and molten seeped beneath Nanami's parting words, igniting embers you couldn't allow yourself to fully comprehend lest they catch and blaze into wildfire between you. You were left with the unsettling feeling that behind the constant push-and-pull provocations you'd grown accustomed to...a deeper truth was steadily taking defiant root.

The next time you barged into Nanami's apartment unannounced, it was to find him fresh from the shower once again. He emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam with a towel slung precariously low on his hips, damp hair in artful disarray.

You froze mid-stride, rapidly becoming an expert at not overtly ogling despite the instinctive flare of heat suffusing your gaze. Nanami merely arched one brow at your abrupt halt, calm as a lake at dawn.

"Boundaries, wildflower," was his only chiding as he brushed past you towards the bedroom to dress. "Do learn them."

You snapped your jaw shut, determined not to be so easily flustered into silence. Turning, you trailed after him with purposefully loud footfalls. "You say that, and yet it's clear you have no problem prancing about with your delicious body on display, sensei."

The slightest falter in Nanami's stride was the only indication he registered your boldly provocative tone. Rallying, you closed the distance until you could reach out and brazenly trail fingertips along the rigid planes of his back.

"One might even think," you practically purred, "that you leave so little to the imagination on purpose. As a...delectable temptation."

Nanami stilled then, a detectable frisson of awareness tightening his shoulders. His next exhale emerged slightly more uneven. "Is that so?"

You hummed a wordless affirmative, thoroughly enjoying the way he was so clearly struggling to maintain that vaunted stoicism. "Oh, absolutely. Which begs the question...who exactly is the tease here, sensei?"

When Nanami turned at last, his expression was severe enough to stoke fresh heat through your veins. In two large strides he was looming into your personal space, turbulent eyes searching your expression.

"You're playing a very dangerous game, wildflower," he murmured in that raspy timbre that never failed to liquify your insides. "One I'm not certain you have the...discipline to withstand."

You tilted your head, aiming for an air of nonchalance despite the wild thrumming of your pulse. "And if I said that was exactly the sort of game I wanted us to play?"

Something flickered behind Nanami's gaze then - a blazing mix of hunger, yearning, cherished restraint. His hand lifted as though of its own volition to cup the line of your jaw, thumb rasping along the swell of your lower lip. You shuddered at the overwhelming intimacy of the contact.

"Then I'd advise extreme caution, little wildflower," Nanami husked, robbing you of breath. "Because this particular game has very...severe consequences if indulged for overlong."

You swayed towards him like a flower seeking the sun's warmth. "Is that a promise...or a threat, sensei?"

Nanami's lashes swept downward briefly, shielding his expression. Then his fingers contracted in a searing grip, tilting your face upwards once more to impale you with a look more heated than a newborn star going supernova.

"From me?" His voice emerged little more than a graveled rasp edged with dark sin. "Always...both."

Then he released you, spinning away with an abruptness that nearly sent you staggering in its wake. You blinked dazedly for several moments before finding your voice.

"You can't keep running from this, you know," you called after Nanami's retreating back, striving for some semblance of composure. "Whatever...this is."

He paused in the threshold leading out as if weighted down by your quiet accusation. For an endless beat, you didn't think he'd respond. Then finally his head inclined a fraction.

"No..." The deep timbre seemed to come from someplace infinite and cavernous within him. "But neither can you keep recklessly goading the beast, wildflower. Not unless you're prepared for when it inevitably turns...and gives everything you're baiting it to consume."

The unspoken warning hung taut and thrumming between you like a live wire as Nanami exited without a backward glance. As always, you were left scorched yet painfully unfulfilled by one more near miss on the razor's edge of capitulation. Left to wonder just how many more times you could bait the line between you before one of you finally tumbled over into the abyss.

It was one of those unseasonably warm nights when not even the whirring air conditioning unit could quite displace the thick, languid humidity that seemed to cling to every surface. You shifted restlessly on Nanami's couch, skin feeling feverish and tightly confined by your lightweight loungewear.

"Are you always this fidgety?" Nanami's dry remark dragged your gaze over to where he sat in the nearby armchair, seemingly unbothered by the stifling mugginess. Unlike you, he looked perfectly at ease in a thin sleeveless top and loose pants.

You tried not to stare too overtly at the bared expanse of toned arms and chest on display, but it was difficult not to be transfixed. Nanami radiated an almost elemental sort of virility in the low lighting that made your mouth water.

Forcing your attention upwards with arduous effort, you shot him a flat look. "Easy for you to say, all cool and composed over there."

One dark brow inched upwards at your unsubtle admiration and subsequent grumbling. "Are you quite alright, wildflower? You seem..."

"Don't start with me," you warned, unable to disguise the breathless lilt your voice had taken on. You tugged at the neckline of your shirt, trying fruitlessly to coax in a cross breeze. "It's stifling as hell in here."

Nanami's gaze grew distinctly hooded at the motion, tracking the bead of sweat that trailed down the hollow of your throat. "Is that so?"

You fought back a squirm at the molten weight of his stare roving your heated skin. "Yes, so unless you've got a better way to cool me off..."

The suggestive words hung heavily between you. An inviting sort of hush seemed to settle over the room as the air conditioning unit puttered to a halt in the corner. A few protracted beats of silence ticked by, the only sounds your mingled breaths.

Then Nanami unfolded himself from his chair with that unhurried, predatory grace you'd come to admire. You were already flushed warm from the smothering atmosphere, but fresh heat prickled outwards across your exposed curves at his approach.

Rather than stop or re-establish the usual measurable distance between you, Nanami continued stalking forth until his shins brushed the sofa. Your breath came a little quicker as he loomed over you.

"There are," he said at last, deep tone thrumming like a resonant bassline through your nerve endings, "other ways to find relief from the swelter."

The sheltering weight of his body blocked out most of the low light, casting you in austere shadow. As if moving in slow dream sequence, Nanami braced one knee beside your hip on the couch and extended a calloused palm to toy with the top button of your shirt.

You swallowed audibly, utterly pinned beneath his smoldering scrutiny as one by one, those deft fingers slipped each fastening free. The thin material slowly parted to expose damp skin and bra-covered breasts slicked with perspiration. Nanami's heavy exhalation stirred wisps of hair at your flushed nape.

"Allow me..." he murmured, so softly the words seemed to skim your parted lips.

Then one broad palm seared a scorching trail up your abdomen and over your ribs, leaving sizzling imprints in its wake. You arched helplessly into the shocking contact before Nanami smoothed back down again in an unbearably light caress. Over and over until you were trembling and dizzy, nerves going haywire beneath his carnal ministrations.

When Nanami eventually drifted to a stop with his knuckles just grazing your lower belly, you were panting harshly. He regarded you through lowered lashes with an indecipherable gleam in his turbulent eyes.

"Better?" Nanami rasped at last.

You could only shakily incline your head, not trusting your voice. He hummed vague acknowledgment, then leaned in until you could taste the bittersweet tang of his skin on the hot exhale that gusted across your slick throat.

"Good..." Nanami's voice plunged to a bass register that seemed to resonate within your very bones. "Because we're just...getting...started..."

Those last words emerged with searing emphasis alongside the smoldering graze of his teeth against your hammering pulse point. You didn't even have time to process the full-body convulsion that lashed through your every atom.

With one final inscrutable look, Nanami rose and turned on his heel for the refuge of his bedroom without further comment. Leaving you scorched and reeling and somehow aching more intensely than before in the aftermath of his singularly incendiary attentions.

The charged encounters seemed to escalate after that pivotal night of Nanami doling out his own scorching brand of torturous relief. As if a dam had fractured, allowing those deeper undercurrents to steadily bleed through in increasingly overt ways.

You started noticing the little unconscious habits – like how Nanami would trap you with that darkly penetrating stare and simply hold your gaze hostage for protracted beats. Saying nothing, but letting the weighty lasciviousness of his attention prickle satisfying frissons across your nerves.

Or the way his palms seemed to migrate towards any naked slice of your skin when you occupied the same space. Calloused fingertips feathering delirious patterns along your arms, the dip of your spine, the swell of your ankle as if staking proprietary claim. Never overt enough to blatantly cross lines, but absolutely calculated to leave you buzzing on that razor's edge of sweet agony.

In the training rooms, the subtle touches evolved into something more...purposeful. Nanami's solid frame would bracket you from behind under the guise of adjusting your stance or redirecting a strike. His pelvis would grind lightly but meaningfully against your backside as anvil-calloused palms mapped the feminine curves of your body in sweeping, indolent arcs.

You'd shudder overtly at the branded heat of Nanami's chest sealing against your back, ogni sculpted ridge and hollow etched in searing bas-relief. The rasp of his words would gust hotly against the nape of your neck, each consonant seeming to reverberate straight through to your very core in delicious impact tremors.

"Loosen your grip, wildflower..." He'd murmur with quiet authority, those skilled fingertips adjusting your wrist ever-so-slightly. "Don't let the tension compromise your form."

You always fought not to whimper at the flickering caresses skating so perilously close to your breasts and inner thighs. But Nanami never missed the tremors that betrayed your responses, nostrils flaring as if he could physically sense the spiking arousal suffusing your scent.

Sometimes you wondered if he did it on purpose - stoking those banked embers until your entire universe contracted down to the searing brand of his touch claiming you from all sides. Other times you knew with dizzying certainty Nanami was simply struggling not to fully unravel like you, forcing every iota of discipline not to tumble over that event horizon together.

Those unguarded moments always began the same - with you mindlessly palming a paperweight or odd trinket on his desk while waiting for Nanami to finish reviewing some bureaucratic report. Focusing so intently on anything besides how deliciously snug his shirt clung to those carved planes of musculature that you missed Nanami straightening from his task.

Suddenly the heavy, grounding warmth of Nanami's broad palm would engulf yours, fingers curling to halt the idle motions. You'd suck in a sharp inhale at the overwhelming physicality and subtle dominance of the hold even as Nanami crowded in from behind. Close enough that the scorching furnace of his chest brushed your back with each cycle of breath.

You knew better than to so much as shift beneath that vise-like anchor. Instead, you'd go utterly still and pliant, waiting with thundering heart for whatever darkly intimate encounter Nanami seemed intent on precipitating.

Sure enough, his unoccupied hand would eventually alight upon some stretch of naked skin. The sensitive inner crease of your elbow, perhaps, or dust featherlight across your collarbone. You'd tremble violently despite willing every synapse not to react, feeling the blistering heat of Nanami's stare tracking each micro-response.

"Keep still," he'd husk in that decadent timbre that somehow carried the laconic menace of a growl.

Then his palm would slowly, inexorably glide upwards in a searing map – following each tendon and hollow with merciless precision. Tracing the fragile wrist, meandering higher along your forearm in unhurried exploration until you writhed beneath the exquisite torture.

Only for Nanami to just as abruptly release and pivot away before shattering either of your rapidly thinning veneers of control. Leaving you frayed but unfulfilled, forced to clutch slick fists against clenching thighs while surreptitiously willing your body back from that precipice.

Each time, he'd turn just before exiting and pin you with a look so molten, so fraught with escalating promise, that you felt branded straight through to your very atoms. A look that clearly said one of these encounters would finally crest into irrevocable capitulation...

It was only a matter of whittling down whose restraints unraveled first.

The cursed spirit had been more formidable than anticipated, ripping through the crumbling ruins and scattering debris like a vengeful tornado. You'd gotten separated from Nanami amid the chaos, flushed out into a small courtyard overrun with thick vegetation.

The explosive force of the cursed spirit detonating the ground sent you tumbling head over heels. Debris pelted you from all sides as the world dissolved into a disorientating vortex of darkness and noise.

Eventually, you fetched up hard against uneven surfaces - the wind forcibly expelled from your lungs. Dazed, you blinked against the ringing in your ears and tried to get your bearings.

That's when you realized the precarious positioning you'd ended up in. Your upper body was sprawled face down on one side of a deep crevasse in the courtyard's surface. But your hips and legs were wedged firmly on the opposite side of the narrow gap, splayed obscenely with your backside lewdly displayed.

You wiggled experimentally, but whatever rubble and stonework had you pinned refused to budge an inch. The sound of approaching footsteps filtering through the dust had you stilling instantly, stomach swooping with anxious trepidation.

"Wildflower?" Nanami's authoritative baritone cut through the settling debris like a blade as his tall silhouette emerged from the gloom. "Are you--"

His words stuttered off in a momentary pause as he clearly registered the revealing way you were positioned. You flushed hotly, not needing to look back over your shoulder to feel the weight of his piercing assessment raking across your trapped body.

A protracted beat of silence stretched between you, thick enough to almost taste. Then Nanami continued his unhurried advance until you could sense the imposing bulk of his frame looming squarely behind you.

You hunched instinctively, adrenaline spiking despite yourself as his next words emerged amid the susurrant whisper of him crouching down directly at your exposed backside.

"My, my..." There was a slumberous sort of appreciation threaded through his deep timbre that raised prickles across your sensitized nerves. "You certainly have an uncanny penchant for ending up in the most...precarious situations, little wildflower."

The lightest feather-brush of his fingertips traced up the sensitive tendons of your inner ankle in blatant suggestion - a measured, purposeful caress that had you sucking in a sharp inhale. Nanami didn't miss your microreaction if his low, rumbling chuckle was any indication.

"One might start to think you choreograph such incidents." Another few idle sweeps higher along your calf raised electrifying contrails in their wake. "Practically begging for...intensive correction through whatever intimate disciplinary methods I deem suitable."

You clenched your jaw, fighting the delirious spiral of heat those subtly lascivious implications stoked despite yourself. Still, you couldn't quite repress the full-bodied shiver as his calloused palms skated up your outer thighs in unerringly light, scorching trails.

Inch by agonizing inch, Nanami's hands roamed higher in unhurried exploration. Mapping every twitch and tremor you unsuccessfully tried to stifle as his fingertips blazed scorching paths along the innermost apex of your splayed thighs.

"So eager..." His approving rumble seemed to resonate straight through your very marrow. "Even in this unorthodox setting, your form practically begs for correction, wildflower."

You squeezed your eyes shut against the kaleidoscope of frissons detonating everywhere his callused palms grazed. Willing your body not to react so transparently to Nanami's purposefully provocative ministrations. The exquisite torture of having him so brazenly dominate your personal space in such an intimate manner while remaining infuriatingly composed.

"P-Perhaps if my mentor didn't insist on such...private discipline, I wouldn't find myself in these situations," you managed at last, voice emerging more breathless than intended.

Nanami tsked softly in clear rebuke, the sound vibrating against your over-sensitized nerves. "Now, now...we both know that's a blatant lie."

You shuddered freely as one palm smoothed up your thigh in a lingering, purposefully possessive glide. Higher and higher until he cradled the plush of your ass, fingertips searing into the flesh.

You squirmed ineffectually against the ruthless drag of Nanami's deliberate inspection, each measured graze leaving towering infernos in its wake. Yet somehow that only seemed to spur him on, fanning the sweet agony sizzling through your nerves hotter still.

"I can't decide," he husked at last, devouring you in a smolder that all but stripped you naked, "whether I should punish you first for such carelessness...or simply take advantage of having you so sweetly trapped for me."

Your lips parted on a tremulous sound you couldn't quite stifle as Nanami's palm finally curved around your outer thigh in a scorching, proprietary brand. He squeezed once in clear emphasis before dragging his nails up the sensitive interior in a whisper-light threat that detonated your senses into white heat.

"Then again, perhaps I'll simply keep you here a while longer," he growled with barely restrained wildfire bleeding through the rasped words. "As tempting as this tantalizing tableau is, I do so enjoy watching you writhe for me, little wildflower..."

Despite the sodden ache building with each lascivious caress and purring avowment, you managed to rally one last defiant spark behind a hooded stare. "Is that...so?"

Nanami's flinty eyes glittered like sun-struck obsidian as he bent closer still, allowing the solid ridge of his arousal to nestle against the juncture of your thighs.

"Oh yes..." he breathed, the words gusting across your damp, parted lips. "But allow me to give you a little...preview to ponder, hmm?"

Before you could react, his other palm cupped your opposite ass cheek in a stinging grip and gave a deliberate, carnal grind. The searing press of his clothed length against your swollen slit through the flimsy barriers between you left you gasping.

"Consider this a...taste," he rumbled darkly, "of what's to come should I decide to keep you here and thoroughly ruin you."

He punctuated the decadent threat with a second slow thrust, ensuring the blistering length of his cock grazed against your engorged clit in a way that made your toes curl. Then he withdrew, leaving you throbbing and panting and desperate for more.

Nanami straightened, a darkly appreciative sound reverberating deep within his broad chest. You shivered uncontrollably beneath his proprietary gaze raking across your prone, splayed body.

"Such a good little wildflower," he husked, eyes hooded with blatant carnality. "Just imagine if someone else were to wander across you in such a helpless state..."

He trailed off as his stare dipped meaningfully to where your slick arousal glistened along the seam of your pussy, fully visible in the obscene angle of your body. A low, feral rumble sounded in his chest before he spoke once more in a sin-dark timbre.

"How delicious it would be to have you like this..." A single finger traced the seam of your soaked panties in a searing, feather-light caress that made you jolt. "So helpless, so needy...so ready to be filled and utterly wrecked."

You sucked in a sharp breath at the erotic picture he painted with the suggestive drag of his fingertip against your drenched folds. Imagining being found by someone less discerning and honorable than Nanami – some other male who might not resist the temptation to sample the pretty little morsel on offer.

Nanami's eyes narrowed slightly as if sensing the direction your thoughts had strayed. A soft, rumbling hum issued from his broad chest as his calloused touch migrated higher, skimming the curve of your ass before delving lower.

"Imagine some stranger coming upon you in such a vulnerable state," he mused aloud, voice pitched even deeper and rougher with restrained desire. "How they would take advantage of having you so utterly at their mercy."

Nanami's thumb pressed in a slow, searing circle against your pulsing clit through the thin material, dragging a strangled moan from your chest. "How they would strip away these pesky coverings..."

He emphasized the lurid suggestion by sliding the barrier aside and stroking directly against your slick flesh, making you jolt at the scalding contact.

"And how they would bury themselves within your sweet, yielding pussy." He punctuated the final, filthy words by plunging two thick fingers deep inside.

You didn't stand a chance. Not with his sinfully skilled digits pumping at just the right angle, the lewd, wet sounds filling the space between you. Not when he'd already brought you so close to the edge with his earlier teasing.

You came explosively, the world contracting into a single pinpoint of blissful sensation. Distantly, you were aware of Nanami's guttural exclamation, his palm gripping your hip to anchor you steady as he wrung every ounce of pleasure from your body.

You were barely coming down from the mind-blowing high when his hand withdrew, replaced a moment later by the blunt tip of his cock. The scorching contact sent fresh waves of need lashing through your veins, reawakening the feverish ache in the space of a single heartbeat.

Nanami groaned deep in his chest at the molten contact, his pelvis grinding lightly against your backside. "God, wildflower, you're so...fucking wet. I could take you just like this. Would you let me? Or would you beg for me to stop? Not that you'd be able to do much beyond writhe in place and take it."

You whimpered helplessly, a fresh gush of arousal dampening your inner thighs at the depraved fantasy he painted.

Your core clenching hungrily at the thought of him sliding home with one relentless thrust, filling you to the hilt and pounding away with wild abandon.

"Tell me, wildflower," Nanami all but growled, hips jerking in an involuntary thrust that had the tip of his cock notching against your weeping entrance. "Would you beg for mercy...or would you spread those legs and take every inch I gave you?"

A desperate keening noise escaped as you arched into him, trying futilely to drive him deeper. Your body had already capitulated to the carnal temptation. But it wasn't enough, not when Nanami remained stubbornly immobile.

"Tell me," he ordered with quiet authority, calloused palms squeezing the swell of your ass hard enough to sting.

"Yes!" The word erupted from your throat with the force of a dam finally breaking. "Yes, I'd spread my legs and beg for you to fuck me. Please, Kento..."

The effect of his name spilling from your lips was instantaneous. Nanami's hips jerked forward, sheathing himself to the hilt within your clenching heat. A rough, primal noise was torn from his chest as he bottomed out, his entire frame trembling from the effort of remaining motionless.

Then his hands gripped the swell of your hips hard enough to bruise and began a ruthlessly punishing rhythm, pistoning into your sopping cunt with single-minded purpose. It was exactly as you'd fantasized, only better. Because you could feel the tension thrumming through every sculpted ridge and hollow of his powerful body, the coiled violence barely restrained.

Nanami was taking his pleasure just as much as yours, his every harsh, panting breath seeming to reverberate through you. As if your very bodies had melded, become one singular entity of pure, molten desire.

It was the most intensely, blissfully satisfying feeling you'd ever experienced, knowing he'd finally unraveled. Finally lost control and succumbed to the raw, animalistic lust he'd been harboring.

And it was all for you.

The thought pushed you higher and higher still until the only thing keeping you tethered was the brutal rhythm of his pelvis slamming against your upturned backside. It was all too much, and not enough, and not nearly enough.

You writhed uncontrollably, pinned on the blade's edge of pleasure as Nanami's fingers dug punishing grooves into your skin. The wet, vulgar slap of his cock pistoning into you drowned out the needy little noises tumbling from your lips.

You could tell Nanami was rapidly approaching his peak by the ragged hitch of his breathing, the increasingly jerky, frantic thrusts of his hips. And yet, even now, he was clearly striving to ensure you came first.

One of his broad palms shifted from its bruising grip on your hip, his calloused fingers finding the swollen nub of your clit and applying just the right amount of pressure. You cried out sharply, vision whiting out at the edges as he stroked you with the perfect mix of friction and gentleness.

"Let go, wildflower," he growled, each harsh syllable vibrating against your overstimulated nerve endings. "Cum for me..."

Then he gave a particularly vicious thrust, his cock bottoming out in your quivering channel. The sudden pressure and fullness combined with the wicked, knowing caress of his fingertips shattered what was left of your fraying restraint.

You came apart at the seams, crying out his name as wave after wave of indescribable pleasure crashed through you. Nanami fucked you through it, drawing out the exquisite sensations for several long moments until your body went lax.

Only then did his tempo shift, growing erratic and choppy. His hips stuttered against your ass once, twice, three times, before he buried himself balls-deep with a ragged groan. The thick heat of his release filled you, leaving you dazed and trembling from the sheer intensity of the encounter.

As you slowly came back to awareness, you registered that Nanami had sagged against you, his large frame still shuddering through the final ripples of release. With a concerted effort, you wriggled against the loosened debris.

That was all the signal he needed. In a seamless, predatory movement, Nanami surged upright. With one hand firmly anchored around your hip and the other braced against the rubble trapping you, he easily lifted your weight to free you.

Then he was tugging you upwards into his arms and claiming your mouth in a searing kiss. It was all teeth and tongue, devouring and dominant. A promise of all the ways he was going to ruin you next.

You shuddered in his arms, eagerly parting your lips beneath the demanding invasion. Your arms wound around his broad shoulders, pulling him closer as his scent and taste overwhelmed you.

"God, I want you," Nanami rasped against your mouth, sounding almost tortured. "Need to be inside you, wildflower. Feel that perfect little cunt squeezing me again."

"Yes," you whimpered, already achingly empty after only a brief respite. "I need you, Kento. Need to feel you..."

"Mine," he all but snarled, the words more beast than man.

In the next breath, Nanami had you pressed against a nearby wall, the rough stone rasping against your exposed curves. He lifted your legs around his hips, his thick cock notching against your swollen entrance.

His mouth crashed down upon yours once more in a savage, bruising kiss as he began driving into you. The thick, unbridled length of his arousal stretching you impossibly full, the sensation overwhelming and intoxicating all at once.

Each hard, possessive thrust drove the breath from your lungs. Your fingernails dug into his muscled back, no doubt leaving angry welts in their wake. Nanami groaned into the kiss, the sound resonating deep in his broad chest and sending electric shivers along your spine.

His hands gripped your ass tight enough to bruise, guiding your hips to meet his punishing rhythm. You couldn't help the breathy gasps that escaped, each exhale seeming to mingle with his ragged breaths.

Your entire world had contracted down to the molten points of connection between your bodies. The feel of his calloused palms searing your bare skin, the heady scent of him enveloping you, the wet, decadent sounds filling the air.

Nanami's forehead dropped to yours, his molten gaze piercing through the lust-haze fogging your senses. "Say it again," he demanded hoarsely, eyes glittering with something raw and fierce. "Say my name."

"Kento," you breathed, the single word seeming to resonate through every nerve ending.

His rhythm grew frenzied, the lewd smack of his hips against your inner thighs echoing throughout the courtyard. You arched into him, fingers fisting desperately in his hair.

"Again," he snarled, nipping at your lower lip. "Tell me whose name you'll be screaming as I fuck you senseless, wildflower."

"Yours, Kento," you gasped, teetering on the edge of another mind-blowing orgasm. "Only yours."

That was all the permission Nanami needed. His thrusts became brutal, the thick length of his cock bottoming out with every punishing stroke. Your entire body quaked, muscles tightening around him.

Then his hand snaked between you, his calloused fingertips finding your swollen clit. That was all it took to send you spiraling over the edge.

You cried out his name, nails raking his broad back as the orgasm ripped through you. Nanami followed shortly after, his teeth sinking into the side of your neck in a savage bite. The sensation sent another wave of blissful tremors shuddering through your system.

You sagged in his arms, utterly boneless as Nanami supported your weight. He was panting heavily, his broad chest pressed against yours as you both came down from the high. You couldn't help the giddy, satisfied smile that curled across your lips.

You tilted your head, meeting his heavy-lidded gaze. "Kento, was that your way of showing me a preview of what's to come?"

His lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile softening his sharp features. "That depends...did you enjoy yourself?"

"Oh, immensely," you murmured, leaning in until your lips were a breath away from his. "But I have a feeling I'll enjoy round two even more."

The low, feral sound Nanami made was all the answer you needed.

[lovebugism]

I positively adore steeb and shy!reader 🥹 can I please request steve comforting shy!reader after her first experience with the upside down? he just vows to take care of her?

ty for requesting!! — steve takes care of you when you won't let anyone touch you after fighting vecna (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, friends in love, cw for mentions of bruises/injuries, 0.9k)

Hawkins Memorial Hospital smells overwhelmingly of bleach and very faintly of copper. You think the last bit might just be you, though. The scent of metallic blood and alternate-dimension muck hasn’t quite left you — even though you’ve scrubbed yourself raw in the shower, three times over.

You sit in Max’s vacant room while she’s out for surgery. Everyone else is either sleeping off the grief or getting themselves checked out. You can’t do either — too plagued by nightmares and too frightened at what the doctors might find if they look at you too close.

Steve finds you in the dim room, lit only by natural sunlight, standing in front of the small square mirror against the wall. You get lost in the splotchy bruises on your face until he knocks gently on the cracked open door. 

“Hey…” he greets, gently to keep from startling you.

You swallow down the fleeting panic. “Oh. Hi.”

“I, uh, I brought you some ice,” he tells you and steps further into the room, waving a plastic bag of chipped ice in his hand. “I saw you flinch when you wrapped up Dustin’s ankle. I figured your shoulder was bothering you…”

He’s visibly shy, but you’re impossibly shier. The deafening quiet and the proximity of your bodies are equally suffocating. You cower beneath the weight of it, wringing your clammy, cut-up hands together. “I’m— I’m fine. Thanks…”

Steve flashes you a wavering smile, lopsided and perfectly pink. He forces a laugh through an aching chest because you haven’t talked about what happened since you got back. He figured it was normal at first — that you were still grappling with the whole fighting monsters thing, but you haven’t let anyone touch you in days. The doctors have been begging to look you over since you got here.

“I just… I wanna help,” he confesses.

A pleading look swims in the deep honey of his eyes. It becomes impossible to turn him down. You’d have an easier time fighting Vecna, you think.

You swallow hard. “It’s… It’s my back,” you shrug, then grimace when the movement makes you ache.

You’d fallen through the decrepit floor of the Creel house and landed hard in the basement. The vines slithering there broke your fall. For the most part, anyway. The damn things would have swallowed you whole if Steve hadn’t been brave enough to jump in after you. 

“Can I see?” he wonders.

You hesitate for a moment. “I haven’t really— looked at it yet,” you murmur with a pained look twisting your features. You turn around when Steve approaches you. You feel his warm fingers along your back, knuckles skimming over your skin as he lifts your shirt with a slow and gentle touch — giving you ample time to stop him if you wanted.

When you don’t, he raises the fabric to the middle of your spine. The entire canvas of your back is darkened with a hardly healing bruise. The sight of it makes him grimace. “Jeez…” he mumbles before he means to.

Your brows pinch. “Is it bad?”

“We’re gonna need a lot more ice,” he answers with a forced laugh.

You giggle at his half-joke. The pretty sound makes him smile.

“You should probably see a doctor—”

“No,” you interject with a firm shake of your head, sterner than he’s ever seen you.

“But it’s— It’s kinda gnarly—”

“I’m fine,” you insist, despite the bruises darkening your skin. You turn back around to face him and avert your gaze at the pitiful look he gives you. You cross your arms over your chest and bite back a wince. “I’m okay, Steve. There’s other people to worry about right now.”

Max, for one. And all the rest of the kids for another. And the rest of the town who lost something in the earthquakes. You got off pretty lucky, all things considered — just a couple of bruises. And a cut or two. And some pretty gnarly nightmares. But that’s it.

Steve’s lip quirks in a sympathetic smile. “Here. C’mon. Sit down.”

He urges you to the made-up hospital bed with a hand hovering over your lower back. Your perch on the side of it, one leg curled beneath you, as Steve slides in behind you. He raises the hem of your shirt and presses the icepack against your shoulder blade, where the bruises seem darkest. His touch is gentle and feather-light, almost comically so. The bag of ice just barely grazes you.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

You nod. “Yeah… Thanks.”

His hand grows heavier when his touch becomes more confident. The stinging of the cold soothes the deep ache in your shoulder.

“No problem,” he says before swallowing down the nerves crawling up his throat. “I’m always here, you know? If you ever need anything.”

You exhale a sharp laugh through your nose. “I feel like you have better things to do than take care of me,” you murmur, wringing your hands into a knot in your lap.

“Well, I don’t.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“What?” he scoffs. “That I’d rather dote on you than do anything else?”

“Yeah,” you laugh and shoot him a playful look over your shoulder. You smile when you find him already grinning at you.

“Well, believe it, alright? ‘Cause you’re stuck with me now.”

“Am I?”

“Yep,” he answers, popping the p.

“We fought monsters together, and now we’re bonded for life?”

“Exactly.”

You flash him another glance, eyes glittering as you bite back a beaming grin. “Sounds miserable,” you tease.

Steve nods with a crooked smile. “Absolutely horrible.” 

[luveline]

What about if in Eddie and Roan, Eddie and Reader' are both occupied with wedding stuff or smth else and they left Roan with either Wayne or Steve and Robin, and it's just fluffy fluff about them being the best uncles/grandpa ever?

Roan wraps her arms around his neck. “Why can’t I come?” 

Her dad has pretty much always felt like an extension of her. He’s dad. So when she doesn’t get to go places with him that aren't work or school, it doesn’t make sense. She’d care less if Uncle Wayne wasn’t too tired for a slumber party, because her Uncle Wayne is the best uncle ever. 

“Baby,” Eddie says, in that soft sweet voice that means she’s being let down easy, “you can’t come because it’s a lot to do in one day, okay?” He encourages her face back. He’s on his knees to be her height, but he’s still taller. “I know you want to come, but it won’t be any fun at all. We have to go argue with people all day. Y/N’s gonna put on her scary mommy pants and I’m gonna have to back her up because she’s my girl.” 

Roan just looks at him. Eddie grins. 

“Okay, but will you bring me something?” she asks in a whisper. 

You laugh where you’re standing in the doorway behind him. 

“What do you want?” he asks. 

She leans in to whisper in his ear. When she pulls away, he’s squaring his expression into something quite fierce. She’s confident she’ll have what she asks for as soon as he’s home. 

You and Eddie kiss her goodbye, hands quick to intertwine as you walk down the driveway, though you take your hand back to wave at her with both hands when you realise she’s waiting on the porch for you to go. 

Steve holds her shoulder. “Should we go back inside?” 

Roan tips her head back. “Steve…” 

“What, babe?” 

“Can we get ice cream?” 

He holds her gaze. “Maybe. Depends.” 

“On what?” 

“We have dinner first, and you have to eat two vegetables. Because last time your dad said I’m terrible at looking after you.” 

“You’re not terrible,” Roan says, shaking her head vehemently. 

Roan offers him her arms and he picks her up. When she was a baby Steve and Robin used to call her Princess Ro on account of her never being put down, but that was usually because she’d been traded from arm to arm rather than her being demanding. She was demanding, of course, she was a baby. 

“Thank you, Roan. I know I’m not terrible, your dad just loves giving me a hard time.” 

“He does that to me too.” 

“He does not,” Steve chastises, “your dad is a great dad. Just don’t tell him I said that.” 

“Me and dad don’t have secrets,” she says. 

“I know, that’s why he’s a good dad.” Steve sighs forlornly. “Ew. Let’s be less sincere from now on. What movie do you wanna watch?” 

“You have The Little Mermaid?” 

Obviously Steve has The Little Mermaid. He plops Roan down on the couch and she balls herself up tightly. Steve thinks she might be a bit grouchy today, but it’s hard to say yet. He tries to nip it in the bud before it can start, wrapping her in the blanket she likes with the soft ends and cutting her a boat load of apples for peanut butter. “Thanks, Uncle Steve,” she says, stretching her legs out over his thigh. Steve squeezes one of her feet until she grumbles and pulls it away. “I forgot you do that.” 

Steve laughs loudly. “Do what, babe?” 

“You’re like dad. You aga-vate.” 

“I do, huh?” he asks, patting her leg. “Sorry. Just teasing.” 

“Mom says teasing is okay if it doesn’t hurt your feelings.” 

“Did I hurt your feelings?” 

“You hurt my foot.” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, laughing, because he knows it didn’t hurt too much. 

“It’s okay. I don’t want feet, I want a fish tail.” 

“You do not,” Steve says, squeezing under her knee. She grumbles more and kicks at him, a few of her apple slices sliding off of her plate and onto the blanket. She doesn’t notice. 

Robin lets herself in not long after. She’s in sweatpants with her hair up, arms laden with soda and bags of chips. “Hey, Ro,” she says. Even when Roan was a baby, Robin has talked to her like she’s an adult. “You look comfortable. Did you miss me?” 

Roan seems to have missed Robin lots —Robin sits down and within twenty minutes has Roan snuggled under her arm, another twenty and she’s giggling sleepily at the murderous chef trying to cook the Little Mermaid’s crab friend. 

Steve and Robin are best friends, and great watchers, though it’s much easier to look after a kid when you’re allowed to spoil them. They feed Roan chips and soda (though they aren’t animals, the soda is limited to one small cup, and the chips are before a dinner that includes three different vegetables), and they let her jump on the couch and climb up on the kitchen counter to play with the soap dispenser. 

Pick up time comes and passes. Roan sits kicking her feet on the kitchen table, her coat unzippered and her wellies hitting the chair. “Are they late?” she asks. 

Steve offers her a slice of orange. “Yeah, babe, it looks like it.” 

“Are they gonna never come back?” 

“Of course they’re coming back,” Robin says, “your dad has no personality outside of you. He needs you to be happy.” 

Roan smiles to herself. “Yes,” she agrees, taking a bite of her orange. 

Steve kneels in front of her and pulls the two sides of her jacket together. “Your teeth are orange.” 

Roan accidentally drops the orange rind out of her teeth. It rolls down her legs and hits him in the shirt, leaving a greeny tinged stain on his blue polo. “Oh, I’m sorry.” 

“That’s okay,” he says, zipping her coat to the collar and brushing her hair back away from her sticky cheeks gently, “I’ll just charge your dad extra.” 

“You’re the best, Uncle Steve,” Roan decides. 

He strokes her hair behind her ears. “You are the best, Roan. My favourite Munson ever.” 

Her eyes light with joy. “Really?” 

“Really truly.” 

“That’s a bit controversial,” Robin says, clipping Roan’s backpack shut to house what was left of her chips. 

“I don’t like Eddie and Wayne doesn’t tell me good job when I wash my hands.” Steve shrugs. “No competition.” 

The phone rings. When Robin picks up, she says that it’s Eddie, and Eddie needs to talk to Steve, who, after a short conversation, passes the phone to Roan. 

“Dad?”

“Hey, baby! Sorry we’re not there, we went to the wrong place for mom’s hair stuff and it was a disaster, we won’t be home for another hour, I’m sorry. Are you really mad?” 

“I'm not really mad.” 

“I’m bringing you a present, remember? So can you keep being a good girl for Uncle Steve? No shouting?” 

Roan decides this is alright. Eddie tells her he loves her about six times and Roan hands the phone back up because she can’t reach the receiver, letting Steve hang up. She frowns at the floor, her head hanging, dark hair curling in front of her eyes.

“How about we make use of your shoes and coat and go get that ice cream I promised?” he suggests. “Anything you want. You did eat all your vegetables.” 

Robin rolls her eyes. Roan slouches sadly into his legs, the beginnings of a smile on her lips when she looks up at him and asks, “Hot fudge?” 

“As much hot fudge as you want,” he promises. 

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters Try to Guess Which of Them Hoid is Imitating

As requested by anon. :)

It's like charades, only it's Hoid alone doing the acting, and also he's allowed to speak. He's gonna be imitating various Cosmere characters, and let's see if the other characters in that novel can guess who he is!

1. Stormlight Archive

Hoid: [face settles into a deep scowl] Hoid: [crosses his arms] Hoid: Bah! Shallan & Adolin (simultaneously): Kaladin!!! Hoid: Correct! Kaladin: H-HEY

2. Mistborn Era 1

Hoid: [smiles] Hoid: [smiles] [Smoke begins to rise up around him, as though everything is burning down. Faintly, in the distance, the sounds of screams] Hoid: [smiles] Vin (already crying): K-Kelsier! Hoid: [motions for her to hold on a second] Hoid: [punches himself square in the face] Vin: ... Hoid: Yup! That's Kelsier!

3. Tress of the Emerald Sea

Hoid: [crouches down, begins speaking to a member of the audience as though already in mid-conversation] ...and anyway, that's why I think we will make very good friends. Hoid: Wait! Hoid: Is that something dangerous I see? Hoid: I simply MUST make it my new hobby! Charlie, delighted: It's Tress!

4. Stormlight Archive

[Hoid, lying very still on the ground] [Hoid, lying very still on the ground] Adolin: Uh...Sadeas? Kaladin: Are you one of the bridges? Syl: You're a rock!! [Hoid, lying very still on the ground] [Gradually, the sound of ocean waves come from...somewhere. The temperature seems to drop. People's breath fog the air. Still, Hoid lies very motionless on the ground] Shallan: [sighs] Shallan: Stick. Hoid: Correct!

5. Elantris

Hoid: O-Oh? Am I not allowed to talk in charades? Hoid: I'm very sorry, Your Majesty! As a simple woman, all I know how to do is eat hot chip and lie. Iadon: Ugh, Sarene. Hoid: [fixes his hair using only the middle fingers on both hands] Hoid: So smart, Your Majesty!

6. Mistborn Era 2

Hoid: [Pulls his hand up from his hip with his fingers making a gun shape] Wax: Well, that could be literally anyone. Wayne: 'Cept me. Wax: Except you. Hoid [Pulls up his other hand from his hip with his fingers making a gun shape. Now he has two guns] Wax: Again, that could be anyone. Hoid: [Mimics putting both guns back. Reaches down as if to pull something from his belt, which he mimics swigging. Grabs the air in front of his forehead as if adjusting a hat] Wax: Okay, okay, we get it! It's me! Steris: No, no, I want him to keep going.

7. Warbreaker

[Hoid lies half reclined, one arm dangling, mimicking the lazy eating of grapes] Siri: Okay! We know it's one of the Returned! Lightsong: That could be literally any of us. [Hoid, slowly pulls up the hem of his skirt until his thighs are exposed. Winks] Blushweaver: Yes! It's ME! Siri: W-Why am *I* blushing??

8. Stormlight Archive

Hoid: [raising both arms to the heavens] SCIENCE! Navani: Raboniel! Raboniel: Navani! [They look at each other] Hoid: ... Hoid: Uh....SCIENCE and LOVING MY DAUGHTER! Navani: Raboniel!! Raboniel: Navani!! [They look at each other] Hoid: Hmmm...SCIENCE and LOVING MY DAUGHTER and KILLING GOD!!! Navani: ...You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?

[Bonus!]

9. ???

[Ulaam walks onto the stage. He waves. He's wearing bedazzled, tiny red shorts, a flowered shirt, and mismatched socks with sandals] Ulaam: [opens his mouth to speak] Hoid: [tackles him off the stage]

[insomniasdelusion]

HIII can I request a glisten x reader where glisten has a huge crush on reader but reader is clueless about obvious hints he gives but glisten refuses to give up?? Thought it would be cute

Thought I would go ahead and get to this request!! Sorry you’ve been just sitting in my inbox. QvQ

Glisten x Clueless reader

Warning: none! ^^

—————————————————

“Darling~!”

Glisten calls out to you, the bow on his back bouncing as he saunters up.

“Are you free later? I have this wonderful new set of makeup and I think it would look positively divine on you!”

He winks, grabbing your hand and placing a small kiss on it. His nails a pretty pink, curtesy to Toodles.

“Hiya glisten, and sure? I don’t really know much about makeup though..”

You replied sheepish, using your other hand to rub the ack of your neck smiling at the drag queen.

“Oh no worries at all dear, I can teach you!”

He chirped back, moving to stand beside you and tilting his head.

“What’re you doing anyway?”

Glisten questioned, looking at the pre-heated oven, chocolate chips, and a few other baking supplies.

“Oh! I’m making cookies for Cosmo and Sprout as a thank you for the lemon squares last week”

You grin moving back over to the medium sized bowl with a previously abandoned whisk, going back to pouring a few of the small chocolates into the bowl and stirring it easily.

“Ooo~”

He purred out, looking over your shoulder.

“Welll could any of those sweet treats be for moi~?”

He asked, looking at you with half-lidded eyes and grinning.

“Of course! Just let me finish making them first”

You chuckle, gently moving past him to go pour the batter onto a baking sheet, trying to keep them all at least semi the same size. Humming quietly as you did so, glisten watched with a soft look smiling as you worked.. stars he hoped you noticed how much he liked you- but with his luck.. maybe not.

“aaalright!”

You say, wiping off the nonexistent dust on your hands before placing them on your hips.

“Cookies should be done in about thirty minutes.”

You nod, looking back at Glisten, the mirror took just staring at you longingly. Blinking, you tilt your head waving your hand in front of his face. You could see yourself reflecting on the mirror.

“Glisten?”

“Hmm, oh, yes dear??”

“You were zoning out, you alright?”

Glisten cleared his throat, glancing to the side.

“Yes, just admiring you my dear, you’re very beautiful you know?”

“Oh-! Thank you, you really pretty to!”

You squeak back, a slight embarrassed blush on your face. Glisten hums with a nod, sighing softly.

You smile at him turning back to the dishes that do need cleaning, you didn’t want to leave ‘em dirty for everyone else!

It stayed silent for a couple minutes before glisten spoke up.

“So, do you like anyone darling?”

He asks, a curious hum laced in his voice, your eyes widen, the question unexpected!

“Oh- uhm, well I mean I like everyone? You guys are my friends?”

You replied back, glancing at him confused.

“No-no, do you like like someone, love even?”

“Well- ah- I.. guess? But I don’t think they like me back..”

Glisten tilted his head at that.

“Who wouldn’t like you! I mean, your adorable, your kind, your one of the best people to like!”

He rambles, perplexed on who this person could be! I mean you’re amazing.

Your face darkened at his praise, a nervous chuckle leaving your mouth.

“I mean.. I just don’t think he’s in my league, he’s confident, funny, extremely fashionable.. I’m not?”

You replied, shrugging, going back to washing the dishes almost done at this point! Glisten was trying to think, who could it be? Finn? He hoped not! That fish was far from funny or fashionable, not with that train wreck of an outfit he wore.. Rodger? No.. that man was as funny as a worm.

Glisten was deep in thought, while you finished cleaning. The oven beeped pulling him from his thoughts, you waddled over to kitchen appliance. Feeling the heat hit your face along with the sweet smell of fresh sweets.

“Why are you so curious anyway?”

You asked, glancing over to him, setting the tray down and turning off the oven.

“Oooh, just curious on the competition is all”

“..competition?”

You repeated, confused.

“To win you over!”

“Huh..?”

“I mean I do like you?”

“I.. uh like you to?”

“..did you just forget that whole other conversation we had..”

“Conversation..? Wait what did I ask.. you.. oh. Oh! OH-!”

You squeaked, looking at glisten surprised, your face a dark red.

“You like me? ME??”

Glisten nodded, tilting his head.

“..yes..? Why did you think I wanted to hang out with you so much?”

“Cause that’s what friends do I guess??”

“Compliment you on the daily?”

“I thought you were being nice!”

“The gifts???”

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE BEING NICE!-“

Glisten barks out a laugh, shaking his head,

“Really??”

“Yeah..”

“Well now that you’re aware, who’s this person you like?”

“..you..”

You mumble to him, he blinks at you in disbelief before leaning on the counter laughing loudly.

“Oh my sparkles! This is so cute- but you are so clueless-“

He chuckled, you put your face in your hands.

“Oh hush! If you keep laughing your losing cookie rights-“

He stops, eyes widened in horror.

“Okay okay! I’ll stop, you love me to much to actually do that.. right?”

A beat of silence passed by.

“Right?!”

———————————————————————

I hope you enjoyed this!! Again sorry it took so long- QvQ

[hyuuukais]

-`♡´ - APARTMENT 143

pairing -> lee minho x fem reader

synopsis -> after a bad breakup, y/n needs to find a new place to live. although she's grateful for her best friend, up-and-coming model hwang hyunjin, for letting her stay at his, she can't keep living with him and his model roommates. so when an opening for somewhere nearby with cheap rent opens up, she jumps on it, despite knowing next to nothing about the 3 other tenants, only that one owns 3 cats. the three quickly learn of her breakup, determined to help get her back on her feet. but what happens when one of them begins to develop feelings?

warnings -> general, feelings of anxiety, punches r thrown

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER FIVE -> BAD BITCH ENERGY (partially written! wc:722)

"Actually, I can't do this!" You exclaim, anxiety gnawing at your lungs as you get closer to your home.

"Yes, you can." Minho drives on, not sparing a glance in your direction.

Sooner than you hoped, you're there, staring at the pale yellow door through the passenger side window of Minho's car. The house looks no different than when you left, only you can see your flowers drooping slightly in the window. Although you'd only been gone less than a week, it felt like a million years. This place was no longer your home; you didn't know if you had one anymore.

"Just- can we stay parked here for a second?" You try to squash the tight feeling in your throat, constricting your words to a whisper. "I'm not ready."

"No offence, but I don't really wanna waste my gas sitting here all day-"

"Yeah, and that thing I left for you was actually kind of important-" Beomgyu chips in.

"I basically stood someone up for you, so you better not chicken out-" Han gives you a pointed look.

They all stare at you and you have to look away, hide the tears welling in your eyes. You're going to disappoint them if you don't go, just like you disappointed Seonghwa, just like you always do. You never should have asked them, never should have burdened them with this-

"Hey." Minho shifts his body to face you better and you glance over, eyes falling to your hands. "How about we come with you? Would that make it better? Easier?"

You look up at his question, tears now threatening to spill over. "Yes, please."

"Shit, she's gonna cry again!" Beomgyu laughed uncomfortably. "Y/n, c'mon, it'll be okay, don't worry! You've got us. Now, wipe your eyes and let's go. Can't have your ex seeing you this distraught over him, can we?"

"Bad bitch energy," you say in a broken voice, words NingNing has tried to engrave into your very brain over the years.

"Bad bi-" Han waves a hand in the air. "Yeah, sure, whatever you say."

You wipe your eyes, trying to muster every bit of strength you have to see him, placing a hand on the door handle. A wave of fear washes over you again when you start to push it open, the boys following suit.

But then you slam it shut.

Han groans loudly and sits back down, Beomgyu and Minho doing the same.

"What happened?" Han asks, exasperated. "Where's the bad bitch energy or whatever?"

"I'm sorry!" You can't look at them. "I'm sorry. I can't-"

"Enough with the 'I cant's' because yes, you can." Minho turns his whole body to you again, grabbing your chin with two fingers, and making you look at him. "He broke your heart. He hurt you. So, yes, you can go in there, reclaim your things, and never have to see him again. There's no reason for you to even think about him after this." He can tell you're not fully convinced. "How did it feel to see him with the other woman?"

"It felt like my heart shattered into a million pieces," you say. Minho opens his mouth, but you continue on. "Then he took those pieces, ground them up into a fine powder, and scattered them to the edges of the Earth where I'll never find them again. It felt like the ultimate betrayal because I knew I gave him everything and trusted him, but he clearly didn't do the same. Or even close."

You sit up straighter, squaring your shoulders.

"Yes, there, that's it." Minho smirks, eyes widening ever so slightly.

"And the way he thought I'd be the one cheating?" You're anger flares, skin heating up. "As if I didn't tell him how much I loved him daily? As if I wouldn't be too busy working on something that I was proud of that he didn't even let me talk about because, 'oh, honey, we both know your career isn't going any further'."

Anger leads you out of the car and to the front door before you can register your feet moving, pounding a fist on the door when the spare key is nowhere to be found, mumbling every wrongdoing he's committed.

You are furious.

And your hand moves on its own when Seonghwa opens the door.

notes -> do NAWT mess w miss y/nnie. she WILL beat ur ass.

notes pt 2 -> didn't mean to post this! so accidental extra chapter today lmaoo

taglist -> @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @puppyminnnie @tfshouldidohere @kangaracha @chlodavids @whitney190 @thisisnotjacinta @borahae-reads @brooklynie @gini143 @kayleigh-28 @skz-streamer @babyphotos0325 @scallywag1299 @venusmoonxnight @naomisosoup @fertiliezedtoesw @s00buwu @realrintaro @anothershorthuman @skzstaykatsy @ilovejeongin007 @btswestan @taeriffic @ihrtlix @raehawthorne @euphoric-univers @hyperpixie @evermourning @satsuri3su @jazziwritesthings @minhwa @wyzminho @fic-for-readers @dreamerwasfound @imsiriuslyreal @lailac13

L^^^ orange means i can't tag you

[jacksgreysays]

(Not sure if I can qualify for another prompt after the last wonderful prompt fill but here goes:

The Academy was perfectly fine with Shikamaru’s imaginary friend Shikako, until she managed to ____.

Oh dona, there are so many things that can fill in that blank. SO MANY THINGS. And, I’ll be honest, a lot of what comes to my mind range from funny to alarming. But the on that I think is the most encompassing—without being too boring—is simply “get caught.” Because that opens up so many opportunities for what else she could have been doing before she got caught in such a way that also builds a dynamic between those who are in on it (ie, the Rookie Nine, maybe even the full Konoha Twelve since Team Gai IS only just one year older) and those who aren’t (presumably the teachers of the Academy) However, in order to narrow this fic down into something writable, I should figure what Shikako is doing before she gets caught… and, maybe this is just me, but I kinda like the idea of… now maybe this is too specific… but basically, Shikamaru’s imaginary friend Shikako, aka his literal sentient eldritch horror twin sister that lives in his shadow, just straight up eating Danzo. Just. How do you get rid of something? Eat it. Because, like… okay. My brain goes something like this:

“Hm,” says Shikamaru as they hide in the treetops from Iruka-sensei.

Normally, Shikamaru is content with being out of the classroom that, outside from telling them the plan needed to ditch and stay hidden, he stays pretty quiet either cloud watching or napping.

Chouji, in his spot next to Shikamaru and equally satisfied with just being outside, is the only one to hear him. “What is it?” He asks.

That gets Kiba and Naruto to perk up, starting to get bored after their flawless escape with minimal conflict.

“Shikako says she’s hungry.”

Good friend that he is, Chouji offers some of his chips. A tendril of Shikamaru’s shadow shakily takes one, wobbling even under that weight, but Shikako is also a good friend so she eats it.

Well. She tries, anyway. Shikamaru’s shadow curls around it, mimicking a chewing motion, but it remains unchanged.

After a moment, Shikamaru reports, “Shikako says thank you, but she might need to eat something else specifically?”

Naruto, ever curious asks, “What does a shadow even eat?”

Shikamaru shrugs. “She says she’ll know it when we find it.”

Kiba, and an Akamaru squirming with eagerness, declares, “Akamaru and I are the best and finding stuff. We’ll get it in no time.”

—

Iruka-sensei finds them before they find the ambiguous “it.”

To be fair, they were searching through the refrigerator in the teacher’s lounge, and their self assigned mission had carried them through to lunch time. So really it was their own fault.

Didn’t stop Naruto, Kiba, and Akamaru from yelling and howling up a storm as Iruka-sensei grabbed the two boys by the collars of their shirts. Mizuki-sensei at least just gestured his two charges forward, trusting that Shikamaru and Chouji would cooperate since they had been caught fair and square. And plus, it was lunch time.

Distracted as they were, none of the boys noticed Shikamaru’s shadow stretch itself to connect to Mizuki-sensei’s.

Without that context, none of them made the connection when, not even a minute later, Mizuki-sensei stumbled, nearly falling, before catching himself in an uncertain stance.

“You okay?” Iruka-sensei asked, caregiving nature winning over his desire to continue lecturing the boys.

Mizuki-sensei waved him off with a strained laugh, “Ha, I just felt a little tired—midday slump, probably.”

Kiba and Naruto, sensing weakness, re-aim their efforts from complaining to making fun of Mizuki-sensei’s age. It draws his ire, never mind that he tries to seem cooler than Iruka-sensei, but he musters a woozy, half-hearted defense at best.

Shikamaru glances at his shadow, darker and deeper than it was before.

Shikako isn’t as hungry anymore.

—

A/N: And then something something Ino and Sakura spot the boys questing for Shikako’s food and they also believe in/like Shikako anyway so they try to help out, Shino gets pulled in because they end up on Aburame territory and he’s holding his smiling baby sister and his untouchable vibes are way lowered, at some point they’re like… maybe Hinata can use her cool eyes to FIND what Shikako needs (and she’s stalking Naruto anyway so we might as well actively include her) and then Sasuke kind of feels left out ALTHOUGH… I may have a separate thing for how Sasuke gets pulled in. Anyway the kids try to figure out what she’s doing—she doesn’t eat chakra, she eats life energy, but only out of people that she wants to kill anyway and the amount she eats from them is maybe based on how much she wants to kill them? (she really does almost eat Kabuto to death the first time they encounter him lol)—and they’re like… well… we also don’t like the people Shikako doesn’t like anyway? Here’s where plot maybe comes in and maybe where Sasuke gets pulled in but basically if this is pre-Uchiha Massacre then there could be a day when Itachi goes to pick up the little Uchiha members from the Academy and Shikako is just like ??? DO I want to kill and eat him??? because he hasn’t done anything (YET) so it’s just like… the rest of the kids investigating into Sasuke to investigate into Itachi which then somehow Scooby Doo style gets them to Danzo and MAYBE he’s being a creeper and visiting the Academy to recruit future ROOT agents or MAYBE the Academy building is near the Hokage’s Tower (I think???) or Shisui and Itachi are BOTH picking up the various Uchiha Academy students and Danzo tries to use the opportunity to intimidate/threaten them both “subtly” and Shikako’s just like !!!!! FEAST MODE!!!! And fully just eldritch style swallows him whole in front of some Academy teachers :) And it’s not like Shikamaru can get in trouble because he’s BEEN telling the truth about his imaginary friend Shikako the whole time. And as far as they know it LOOKS like a Nara clan technique so they’re like… well… uh… maybe we should tell the Jounin Commander about this. And Shikaku’s just like… uh… Kasuga… what the fuck… And Kasuga turns to Sembei-obaasan and also asks what the fuck… And Sembei-obaasan has to search deep deep into the Nara oral tradition for what the fuck is going on And Shikako is just in Shikamaru’s shadow, totally pleased with herself. I’m not hungry anymore :)

[karolinedgmachinery]

square wave chips extruder fryums papad pellet food machine wheat potato...

[ataraxiaspainting]

Hayloft.

Yan Mahito x GN Reader.

Synopsis: Mahito wants to farm.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, Mahito as his own warning, implied minor character death, and implications of violence/forced cannibalism.

Word Count: 800.

*~*~*~*

“Sounds fun! Looks so too!”

Mahito’s fingers tap and tap on the glass, unsurprisingly never leaving any fingerprints or smudges. He is a curse, after all. It makes sense. Not that you have to be reminded of such, with how little he knows of human culture, the world at large, or with how much he shapeshifts into a disembodied head at night to scare half-awake you. 

You are both sitting on a giant bean bag in the shape of a green slime of all things that Mahito brought in an hour or so earlier. Mahito, as expected, takes up most of it with a malformed arm wrapped around your shoulders and back. 

In your hands is a Nintendo Switch, the sticker case on the joycons, and the screen itself somewhat peeling off, but still the pink bunny and strawberry drawing designs stay intact.

The YouTube app is on, showing a playthrough of Stardew Valley. This part of the sewers had two bars of wifi from the little ramen place above it, something you are grateful for in some aspect. Because of it, you have one more piece of entertainment that is now Mahito bringing you back stale snacks and stuffed animals (that you pray to whatever higher power that they were not alive before Mahito got his hands on them) and nearly smothering you with hugs. 

This is calming. When you just read the dialogue of the characters and listen to the music and pay attention to the satisfying sight of the farmer planting pumpkin seeds and apple tree saplings, it is calming, you are calm, Mahito is, at least partially, calm.

Mahito wanted something to watch today and brought the Nintendo Switch for you to play with as he simply observes. It could be worse, you reminded yourself before you attempted to protest, stopping yourself. It could be much worse. He could turn you into the Nintendo Switch, or much, much worse.

It can be so much worse. He can be so much worse. Your life as a captive can be so much worse. Everything can be so much worse. That is a line you never want to cross because everything can be so, so much worse than it already is.

Mahito raises his free hand, and you pause the video, just as you were taught to. He then points again at the field of two-dimensional, square-like crops all in multiple rows of hoed soil. 

It’s springtime in the game, you think, from how the cherry trees have pink blossoms and petals falling onto nearby ground all around it.

Mahito counts with his fingertip, jumping from one plant to the next and then from one row to the next.

He whistles, and it makes you flinch because that is the same noise he makes whenever you scream, a reaction to when he brings a body part of someone you loved here, throwing it down beside the small dog bed you were given for good behavior, the blood staining the fabric as it falls with a grotesque, sort of plopping sound.

If Mahito wants to grow vegetables and fruit in the few places this sewer has sunlight, he can be your guest.

“Potato, cauliflower, garlic… green beans, kale, parsnips, rhubarb, strawberries…” He says each word like he has never heard of them before. Considering he has never really set foot in a grocery or convenience store for anything other than chips, it is not all that surprising. With another wave of his hand, you rewind it to the moment where the farmer character starts watering the seeds when they are freshly planted. He waits. So do you. “Sounds good! We can make some cheese cauliflower, parsnip soup, pizza, hashbrowns… just imagine it! Yum… I can just picture it now.”

With yet another wave of his hand, you stand up and so does he. Relief goes through you, like a ghost, both horrifying you and making you feel the smallest bit of hope that for once Mahito can act normal.

…

“M-Mahito, vegetables don’t grow that fast.” You say, looking down at the plate of baked fish with what smells like kale and garlic underneath, along with lemon and salt. “H-How-”

“It’s simply the power of love!” Mahito exclaims, inhaling loudly to smell the dish in front of you two. He sighs softly. “A pure demonstration of my love, all I do for you, and all I will do for you in the future.”

You could have sworn that there was the smallest voice from the fish if Mahito’s bragging of how much work went into making you a dish from Stardew Valley was not so loud.

Help me.

“Dig in, cutie!”

You would do anything for Mahito’s grin to not turn into a frown, so you pick up your fork with trembling, scarred hands.

[k111lemall]

𝙈𝙊𝙏𝙀𝙇★𝘾𝘼𝙇𝙄𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙉𝙄𝘼

// 88’ James Hetfield x Fem!Reader

warnings ⚠︎︎: smut!!

(btw this is a remake of the first story that i wrote on this account :))

The cold nighttime breeze blew my hair into my face, I held onto my cigarette between my pointer and middle finger while I used my thumb and other three fingers to tuck my hair behind my ear.

I looked into the practically empty parking lot in front of me. It was a small town so there was no Hyatt or Hilton, just one small motel that had seen better days. The paint was chipping off of the railing that I was standing over and the illuminated sign in front of the motel had a couple of letters not shining.

It was only for one night. It’s a funny story on how we ended up here - James and Lars were arguing over where the band should make a pit stop so they could sleep in a bed for one night, and not on a bus or a plane. So, James comes up with the idea to just throw a dart on a map and wherever it lands that’s where they will do the rest stop. Sure enough, it lands on a tiny little square on the east coast, and when we look at the name none of us had ever even heard of this fuckin place.

But I guess the band's tour manager grew up around there, so we thought one good thing for us one good thing for someone else. The guy would get to see his family and friends, and James and his bandmates wouldn’t have to sleep in cramped bunks or small airplane seats.

Since we were stopping here for the night, the guys all decided “Why not play a show?” and so they found a little bar and decided to play there that night. They sold 350 tickets in a bar with a capacity of 250. I could only imagine how crazy that place must’ve been. I would have gone, honestly, it’s just that I'm claustrophobic, and being in a small space with a bunch of drunk metalheads doesn’t exactly sound… safe, to me.

But, I promised James that I would stay up and wait for him to get back. It was a little past midnight and I assumed that the show was either over or close to being over. I took another drag from my cigarette, in hopes of warming myself and also I had nothing else to do out here. I blew the smoke out and it was quickly swept away by the breeze.

As I watched the smoke move with the air, I heard the faint sound of a car and looked out in front of me. White headlights moved across the road, eventually lighting up the trees as the van turned into the parking lot.

I put my cigarette out on the floor and watched as the back door of the van opened. Jason hopped out first, he yawned and rubbed his eyes before looking up at me and waving. I waved back and then brought my attention back to the car. Lars hopped out next, followed by Kirk right behind him. The two stumbled over to Jason, clearly drunk. I laughed a little at their antics and then looked back at the car.

James was out, staring up at me. Even in the dark, I could see his blue eyes, I smirked at him and turned around to walk back into the room. I closed the door behind me, not locking it, and walked over to the bed. I sat down on the edge of it, watching the late-night news coverage playing on the TV. In seconds, James opened the door and walked in. “How was the show?” I asked, “Good, for a little town they are loud as hell.” he replied as he walked over to me. He sat behind me on the bed, kicking off his shoes and pulling his shirt over his head.

“I’m gonna shower, then I’m coming straight to bed,” he said as he got up and walked into the bathroom. I shot up from the bed and walked behind him into the bathroom. I leaned against the doorframe as I watched him turn the water on and begin to unbutton the top button on his jeans.

James turned to look at me, “You want some company?” I asked, James smirked “If you’re offering.” he replied and grabbed my arm, bringing me closer to him.

The water was warm, it hit my chest and ran down my stomach. I turned around so that I could wet my hair, my eyes met James’. He had a shit-eating grin on his face and his arms were crossed, “What?” I asked, “Nothin, I just can’t remember the last time we showered together.” James replied, shrugging. “Wasn’t that long ago I don’t think,” I replied, James brought his hands up and wrapped them around my waist pulling me closer to him. I brought my arms up and wrapped them around his neck before kissing him.

As we pulled away from each other, I looked into James’ eyes. He had a look that he had never had before. He moved his hands to my hips and gripped them hard pulling the lower half of my body closer to his. His lips pressed onto mine again and one of his hands moved from my hip and down the side of my leg, where he grabbed the back of my knee and brought my leg up.

His kisses moved from my lips to down my jawline and my neck. My head fell back and James let go of my leg, his hand moving up my inner thigh and cupping my pussy. I gasped as I felt him slide two fingers into me, I quickly shot my head up and just as quickly James’ hand covered my mouth. “Shh baby, Lars is next door.. gotta stay quiet,” he said as he began to pump his fingers in and out of me. I nodded and James uncovered my mouth, his hand moved to the back of my neck where he kept it as he moved his face down to kiss me.

His tongue pushed its way into my mouth and I let out a soft moan. I grabbed onto James’ upper arm to try and support myself against the slippery tile of the shower floor. I felt myself reaching the end, and by the look on my face, I think James could tell I was too.

He quickly pulled his fingers out of me, and with a look of disappointment on my face I opened my mouth to speak about my dissatisfaction but I quickly bit my tongue when I felt James pushing his tip through my folds. I bit my lip and prepared myself as James pushed into me, a soft grunt coming from him. I fell into James, chest to chest with him and my head resting on his shoulder he grabbed both of my legs and picked me up allowing him easier access to pound into me harder.

He turned his body so I was up against the wall, his grip was tight on the underside of my legs as he used his strength to pick me up and slam me back down on his hard cock. I tried my best to muffle the sound of pure ecstasy coming from me, but my hand over my mouth could only do so much. “Fuck, harder James please,” I begged, and James listened- the shower was filled with the sounds of water hitting the shower floor and me and James’ skin contacting as he pounded into me mercilessly.

“What do you think baby, should I cum in you?” James asked, “Yes! Please!” I moaned out, James chuckled and began to slow down his pace. James grunted and I felt him twitch inside of me, soon enough he came inside me and I followed shortly behind him leaving me seeing white.

James slowly brought me down and held onto the side of my arms while I took a second to figure out how to use my legs again. James brought his hand up from my arms and used his thumb to hold my face up, “You’re so beautiful.” he said “So perfect.” he added before leaning down and kissing me.

[batmenstrualcycle]

francis forever. (ellie x reader)

living in a never ending memory.

fear not, I haven’t dropped this fic (yet🌚); booty cheeks ending again 🙏, mentions of suicide so fair warning, longer chapter this time ☠️

Winter time being your favorite season didn't come with the joy of snow getting everywhere in your clothes—specifically your shoes or sometimes when it would fall into the gap your hoodie and get all up in your bra. Your skin felt as if it would freeze and chip right off. Making a stop to make snow angels in the middle of your patrol on this hell of a snowy day was seemingly a terrible idea; clumps of snow found its way into your beanie and even into your pants. Gloves couldn't save your hands from shivering; the precipitation got into the crevices of those, as well, leaving your entire body shivering and trembling all over. You could and couldn't blame yourself; making snow angels is a must for you every time it snows out in Jackson.

Ellie offered to switch gloves with you, insisting on it, in fact. You had to decline since you and her had different glove sizes, as well as the fact you didn't want her hands to be cold. You'd put up with your own near frost bitten fingers but god forbid Ellie willfully get it herself.

By the time you and Ellie actually got to creek trails, you'd stopped to take off your gloves and see how bad your fingers were. The impact of the snow rubbing against your skin left an angry discoloration on your knuckles and your fingertips, making you let out a sharp sigh as you tried to swat the snow out of your gloves. You brought your hands up to your face and blew hot air onto them, then rubbed them together to keep the heat going against your skin.

"Don't you always keep an extra pair of mittens in your pack?" Ellie questioned as she rode up next to you, watching you examine your hands. You spared her a glance and bit your tongue in irritation that you did not in fact have an extra pair of mittens in your bag. You sighed as you swatted your gloves again, watching remnants of snow flying out of them.

"Not today," you reluctantly stick your hands back into your gloves. Fortunately all the snow was gone, but they were still unbelievably cold and wet, making you hiss quietly. "I'll have to check for a spare when we get to the lookout."

"Where even is the lookout?" Ellie questioned. Her face scrunched up as the temperature dropped a few degrees, her shoulders squaring. She watched you weakly grip Orion's reigns, the small fog exhaling from your lips, the constipated look coming back on your face. A cheeky grin made its way onto her own face, a quiet chuckle waving over to your ears, earning a side eye from you.

"Hey- my suffering from my damn near frost bitten fingers isn't funny, you know."

"It's not that," Ellie rasped out another drawn out chuckle. You rolled your eyes halfheartedly and gently swatted the reigns, sending Orion trotting down the small river leading to another snow forest. Ellie and her own horse, Shimmer, followed after you, cracking the ice collecting over the stream of water and crunching the snow. "You're looking constipated again. That's like your default look."

"It's not!" You turn your head and look at Ellie with a frown. A pout shows on your face unintentionally, making Ellie snort out a laugh, thus earning another eye roll from you. You turn your head back around to face forward, guiding Orion to turn up towards a hill, gripping the reigns tighter.

"Do you think Dina and Jesse are done for real this time?" You call out. The fact that Jesse and Dina were on and off all the time gave you the impression that they weren't really done yet. Jesse acts all nonchalant, but something in you tells you that he cares about it more than he dares to show. You weren't sure about Dina. You were sure she had her eyes on Ellie last night while you and her were dancing. The ugly taste of jealousy on your tongue made you scowl; thank god Ellie couldn't see it, you didn't need another thing for her to tease you about.

"Jesse says they're done for real. I give them a week and some change until they're back together." Ellie was never one for gossip. It wasn't her thing—talking about other people behind their backs like that. But when you were around, and when she got the impression you were in the mood for gossip...well, she just might dye her hair black for the occasion to go along with her gossiping.

"I think Dina's got her eye on somebody," you nibble on your lip after you let that little piece of information slide. The thought appeared in your mind's eye like counting sheep that you gave away the fact you were a little bit jealous that Dina most likely had the hots for Ellie. You weren't even sure why; you and Ellie weren't...dating...so you felt embarrassed that you were feeling jealous for essentially no reason.

"Oh yeah? You think she's into someone already?" Ellie quips, a smirk making its way onto her face. You practically feel her lopsided smile radiating from behind you, and you roll your eyes. You click your tongue at the humor you feel that she finds in your quiet jealousy that watches from outside the glass. You're quick to change the subject in fear that this would lead to you confessing your jealousy and further giving Ellie something to tease you for.

"You ever think about Cat?" Your sudden change of subject has Ellie's smirk falling. Her eyebrows furrow slightly, a sigh escaping her that makes your own frown turn into a small smile. You internally laugh at her—just to get back at the underlying humor that she previously found at your declaration about Dina.

"Not really...I mean, there's not a lot to think about," Ellie answers with a shrug. She frowns slightly. "Why are you just now bringing up Cat?"

"I dunno. You never really talked to me or Jesse about her," you nibble on your lip as you try and picture Ellie with Cat again. Your right eyebrow curls as your lips lift into a look of disgust, the ugly taste of jealousy on your tongue again like expired coffee. You try and swallow it down in hopes your stomach acid will dissolve the excess hateful saliva previously collecting in your mouth. It doesn't leave.

"Okay...then what do you think about Cat?" An accusatory tone took over Ellie's voice as she lifted an eyebrow. You sighed, your shoulders slumping. The weight of the question weighed a lot heavier on your shoulders than it did when rolling off of Ellie's tongue. For a half second you wondered if there was a wrong answer, then for the other half second you thought you were overthinking it. It's just Ellie, nothing she says really requires much overthinking. But it's Ellie.

"I never really cared for her," you stiffen up, squaring your shoulders and straightening your posture. You swallowed a lump in your throat almost painfully. You adjust your beanie over your head. A cold sweat was gathering on your eyebrows, which you wiped away with your glove. "I mean, she was nice. She was a very good artist...that tattoo of yours looks...okay. But I just don't care for her."

"You're so mature," Ellie rolls her eyes. A blank look rests on her face as she brings a hand up to scratch her bottom eyelid with her finger; an idea crossed her mind like a lightbulb turning on over her head. "And what about you and your past relationships, Y/n? Why is this all about me?"

"I've never had one," your cheeks heat up. You thought you looked and sounded like a total loser—never having a relationship in your entire life before—in front of Ellie after already having a girlfriend once. Soon your entire head feels hot—your neck practically boils and your scalp could steam if it wasn't freezing out here. The truth was you were "busy" with doing your job and tending to about thirty people a day and being eaten up inside by your social anxiety and the constant sadness hanging over your head because of that—it was just an endless cycle.

"You've never had a relationship before?" Ellie asking it like it made you an outlier made your heart clench. You heard the disbelief in her voice which to you was a bit strange. Ellie would've thought you'd at least had one or two, but none? Never? Zilch? Bupkis? Outrageous! She thought everyone in Jackson would be fawning over you at one point or another; thinking back to last night at the Winter Dance, she thought wrong when she remembered you approaching her alone. That nervous smile on your face and the confused shuffling of your hands around her neck the whole dance.

"Nope!" You let out a fake chirp to hide that you were nearly dying inside from embarrassment. The thought immediately came to your head that Ellie now saw you as a hermit homebody weirdo who had absolutely no game. Which was a fact. "I never really thought about having one."

Ellie had a gut feeling that you were lying right through your teeth about that. That chirpy voice didn't fool her.

"Then...what in the world was that kiss last night?"

You groan as Ellie brings up the kiss. You hoped with every bone in your body that this ass-freezing weather that she would forget about it and focus on getting her teeth to stop chattering. You mentally cursed for putting yourself in that situation starting with that damn kiss. You should've thought ahead before going in completely blind and kissing her; now she's talking to you about it, alone, with no Jesse to save you or Seth to call you slurs again.

"...curiosity," you finally manage to squeak out. A raspy chuckle makes its way to your ears, which were fuming from the tips from embarrassment.

"Yeah, right. Curiosity," Ellie giggles. "Man, you're funny."

"I'm serious," you counter. You pull the reigns gently to turn Orion in to a small town, trotting towards a building with an open garage. You pause for a moment as Orion gets into his place and let out a deep sigh, closing your eyes. Your breath comes out as a small fog from the condensation of the cool air. This was probably the most you've ever talked casually with someone in over a month; the exceeding capacity of your social time was overwhelming.

You heard Ellie say something to Shimmer along the lines of don't get into any trouble, listening to her hop off and land on the asphalted floor. You opened your eyes and let out a shaky breath before lifting your leg over Orion's head and hopped off. You turned to the satchel on his side and flipped it open, pulling out a small jar of pills, needles and a thing of thread; you turned your backpack and let it rest on your chest, zipping it open and stuffing them all in the front pocket with the bigot sandwiches you stuffed in there and a walkman you always kept in there for when you had the time to listen to music.

"I wanna show you something, Ellie," you called out after closing your backpack and throwing it back over your shoulders. Ellie whipped her head around and looked at you, watching you walk over to a room. "It's a really nice view. It also helps with my anxiety."

The building was almost falling apart. The wall was torn open on the side, the metal bars sticking out of it and all. Another view was seen from the hole in the wall, which showcased the forestry covering a chunk of Jackson. Snow covered the ground all over, piling up towards the gap where the majority of it gathered and let to the top of a hill outside. The room you were strolling over to was seemingly a storage room; a shelf stood against the wall congruent to where the door would've been (after evidently getting blown off its hinges). A small, vertical gap in the wall adjacent to the entrance allowed you and Ellie both to what you were talking about, a veranda with a view of another side of the forest that you and her previously trekked through.

"This really is nice," Ellie says it like she didn't initially believe you. She watches you lean against the ledge of the veranda on your forearms.

"Would I ever lie to you?" You turned your head and looked at Ellie with a soft grin. Your eyes were noticeably smaller looking, your eyelids were hooded, the smile on your face looked lazy. In her own eyes, you looked a little...high.

"Indeed you would," Ellie lets out a chuckle as she waltzes over to a spot next to you, leaning against the ledge. Your heart suddenly raced in your chest; it wasn't like how it normally would be. Most cases it'd be racing so fast it'd make you lightheaded or your chest would start to ache. Unlike most of the near heart attacks you've had, the racing this time was pleasant. It wasn't a nuisance or a hindrance to whatever you were doing; maybe because you weren't really doing anything at all. But it felt nice to experience a drumming heart that didn't work the tissue of your heart until you were weak.

"Jerk," you laugh softly, your elbow gently nudging Ellie's arm playfully. "I don't lie. Lying is a sin."

"I didn't know you had beliefs," Ellie teased.

"I don't," you shrug. "A man who judges your every move and sentences you to eternal suffering for simply not believing in him is not a man worth my worship."

"That's deep," Ellie looks down at the view of the trees and their snow covered leaves. An ice-caked pond could be seen in the distance, a mountain, some birds flying. She could definitely see how this was calming.

"There are certain philosophies I think, though," you add, huffing softly as you link your hand with your other, your leg bouncing lightly. "This world is so messed up and cruel that only a man could've created it."

"Preach," Ellie chuckled at the irony in her dumb joke. "I mean— yeah, I agree."

"I know what you meant, Ellie," you shake your head playfully as another smile graces your face after falling previously. "I prefer facts over belief."

"I wouldn't really expect anything else from a doctor," Ellie comments. And then her face falls when she gets the idea that she said something wrong, immediately turning her head to look at you. You don't mirror her in enough time for her to process that she's perfectly fine.

"I mean— not like that, obviously. Some doctors can be Christian or religious, too— it's just, you're not like them. I mean—! Fuck..."

"It's okay," you rest a hand on Ellie's shoulder. Her entire face heats up and turns a shade of red from embarrassment; now she has a glimpse of what it must be like for you every single day. She sighed deeply and looked away at the scenery again, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I don't care."

"I just didn't want you to think that I was implying something different, you know?" Ellie let out another breath, one that she didn't know she was holding.

"I already said it's alright," your hand reassuringly pats Ellie's shoulder. A warmth creeps up in her body from hearing your tender voice and feeling your gentle hand. She looks at you and a soft blush dusts her cheeks a pretty shade of pink.

"Where do we sign in?" Ellie changes the subject. You figure it's because of embarrassment; a wider grin breaks out as you chuckle quietly. You push yourself off the veranda and walk backwards towards the gap in the wall, tilting your head towards it.

"C'mon," you turn to face the wall and squeeze into it, sliding past the gap and into the storage room again. Ellie followed after you a moment later; the tips of her ears were bright red, and a pout was molded onto her face. She shuffled through the room and back out towards the bigger hole in the wall, looking down and watching you push a pallet out of the way.

"Didn't you used to do this route with someone?" Ellie inquired as she reached down and helped you with the pallet.

"Dina and Eugene when I was still in group patrols," you let out a huff as you crouch down. The cold of the snow, even with boots on, made your toes curl as you and Ellie crawled through the small crawl space that led to some tiny hallway. The wall next to you had a rope hanging off the edge of it which was tied to a pole against the wall over it.

"Eugene, right! Aw, he was funny."

"Yeah, he was," you chuckled as you stood up straight after getting out of the crawl space. You dusted off your pants after getting some snow on them from crawling, then walked over to the rope and gripped it tightly. "You know that radio I built and left in the Tipsy Bison?"

"What about it?" Ellie lifted a brow, grimacing slightly at the mention of the Tipsy Bison.

"Eugene helped me build that. Dina, too."

"Oh, man! I should've known it was you who left it there. That music from last night was kinda bittersweet," Ellie chuckled heartily. She watched you hop up and climb the wall with the rope, eventually pushing yourself up and over the edge.

"Quick question," you narrow your eyes as you stand off to the side and look down, watching Ellie start climbing up the rope.

"Yeah?"

"Are you wearing the same clothes from last night?" You narrow your eyes playfully and smile. You knew very well that Ellie was, in fact, wearing the same clothes from last night. You didn't bother to say anything until now; you thought she looked cute.

"Hey! It's not like we're at a fashion show or some shit," Ellie grunts as she pushes herself over the edge and climbs onto the floor with you. She looks at you with a halfhearted frown. "We're here to kill infected, not to look snazzy."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm not complaining, Ellie. Sign us in," you laugh softly as you push open the door, walking in and strolling around the room. You waltz over towards the window near the sign in book and squint your eyes look out at the town in the distance.

"What even is this place?" Ellie questions as she looks around and finds another room; she lifts another eyebrow in curiosity and opens that door, finding what she thinks is a lounge room. Two small couches and coffee table, a nightstand, a desk, and a tiny bookshelf.

"It used to be a radio tower, I think," you call out. You turn your backpack around so it rests on your front again, zipping it open and pulling out your binoculars. You hold them up to your eyes and look out the window again.

Ellie walks over to the nightstand in the lounge room and picks up the bong sitting on it, chuckling. She shakes her head as she looks around it. "I'm gonna assume this bong was Eugene's."

"I don't know, actually," You pull away from the binoculars and turn your head to look at the wall that Ellie's standing behind. Your gaze switches to her as she walks out from the corner and over to the sign in book.

"Do you have any on you? Y'know, weed? I heard it can be…medicinal.”

"Literally all of Wyoming is covered in snow," you turn around to look at Ellie as she signs you both in. You let the arm holding your binoculars fall to your side as you give her an incredulous look. "You really think I have weed on me?"

"There's Community Greenhouses in Jackson, you know," Ellie retorts as she sets the pencil down and closes the book.

"I'm not using those," you shake your head softly as you turn back around to face the window. "Last time I used them to grow Marijuana, someone stole it. It was only seeds!"

"Like, actually pulled them out of the soil? Who would steal hemp seeds?" Ellie narrowed her eyes as she strolled over and stood next to you and looked out the window. You held the binoculars to your eyes again for a moment before passing them to her.

"People will steal literally anything for any reason. Either way, the only stuff I have are painkillers and antidepressants. But those are mine."

"Antidepressants?" Ellie turns to look at you as she takes your binoculars. She holds them to her face and looks out the window. "What for?"

"Ellie," you nudge her shoulder gently with your elbow.

"Right, sorry," Ellie grins. After a moment of silence (and Ellie looking around aimlessly with your binoculars, which were freakishly good), she cleared her throat. The quietness between you two was making her mouth go dry. Her feet started shuffling and her leg started bouncing slightly.

"What's wrong?" Ellie asks as she pulls the binoculars down. She looks at you, watching you stare out the window and looking at the scenery. You turn your head and glance at her, your expression lifting after previously falling and looking like you were constipated again.

"What?" You lift a confused eyebrow.

"The antidepressants. Something's obviously wrong," Ellie straightens her posture and squares her shoulders again immediately afterwards. "I don't mean to pry...but I won't be able to stop thinking about it if I don't at least ask."

"It's fine," you huff. Your heart suddenly sank in your chest as you bit your tongue. Talking about your anxiety and depression was never really your thing. Every time someone would ask you if you were okay, you'd practically shut down. You just couldn't find it in yourself to say what the other person probably wanted to hear. You wondered if it was because talking about mental health was an awkward thing for literally everyone, or because the words you would put it in would result in you being put in the Talk Circle. (a small group in Jackson where a handful of people sit in a circle and talk about their feelings; you thought it would just make your embarrassment rise to an all time high)

"It's...for social anxiety...and depression, obviously," you mutter. The words you're supposed to say are clogged up in your throat as your breath hitches and comes out as a small fog. "I've been getting them from Maria since I first came to Jackson a few years ago."

Ellie started to feel bad for asking. She nibbled on her bottom lip as she listened to you. Knowing you had social anxiety was one thing, but actually hearing about it and the depression that comes with it makes her feel weird on the inside. Like the feeling you were talking about found its way into Ellie like a virus.

"I'm not gonna ask why," she mumbled, scratching her nose with her finger nervously. "I don't wanna intrude, y'know?"

"It's just you, Ellie," you glance at her. "It's not like I'm shouting it out to the whole world."

"Yeah, but still," Ellie shrugged in an attempt to make herself look as normal as possible and to not look worried.

"But still, I know you're curious," you nudge Ellie's shoulder with your elbow, giving her a small smile. "I won't tell you until you ask."

"Why not?"

"It's kinda rude to just dump all that onto someone without knowing it's okay."

"Well— I mean, you know I don't care. About you trauma dumping or whatever. It's not gonna scare me off."

"Oh, I don't care if it scares you off," you shake your head playfully. You turn around and lean the side of your body against the window and cross your arms, nibbling on the bottom of your lip. "It's just what you'll see me as when I'm done."

"Wouldn't scaring me off be worse?" Ellie questions. She watches you nibble on the flesh of your lip, taking note of the way your leg bounces slightly. When you part your lips to let out an exhale she sees the slight carnage made on your flesh; her heart sinks in her chest. She shakes her head and ignores her own question. "Whatever. It can't be that bad. If you killed someone, then I hate to break it to you but I think everyone who goes on patrol has killed at least a few people."

"It's actually not that," you sigh as you bring your hand up to adjust your beanie over your head and scratch your hairline. "It's related to that, though."

"Did you watch someone die?" Ellie guesses. You glare at her for a second, giving her the impression to just shut up and let you finish.

"I did. But...I've never killed anyone before."

Ellie furrows her eyebrows, her nose scrunching up as she gives you an incredulous frown. You've never killed anyone? Not one person? Not even in self defense? Everyone she knows has killed at least one person. You've made it this far...travelled all around the country to get to Jackson...and you never got into a situation where you were required to kill? Confusion was an understatement, though she guesses that with so much land you crossed you might've just gotten lucky and made it to Wyoming in peace. Were you a pacifist? You couldn't be; you're as trigger happy to kill infected as the next person in Jackson.

"Never? Like, not one person?"

"Nope. I save lives, I don't take them," you inhale sharply. Your hand clutches the medical badge on your right sleeve, your head turns to look out the window and at the town in the distance. You could feel Ellie's confusion and practically hear the questions swarming in her head. You looked back at her with a knowing expression. "Ask away."

Ellie let out a dramatic huff as she fixed her gloves over her hands to make the atmosphere between you two less awkward; to no avail.

"I know not everyone is accustomed to just...killing people. But how?"

"I traveled with my dad the whole journey here," you tilted your head toward whatever direction you thought Jackson would be in. "He did all the fighting and the killing. Wouldn't let me hold a gun until I was sixteen."

"Same with Joel," Ellie snickered quietly. Her eyes drifted back up to you just in time to catch the warm look on your face; a rare sighting considering you're always looking so anxious or nervous or some sort of negative emotion. "What's your dad like?"

"He was...awesome," you smiled fondly for a moment. "He taught me everything I know about being a medic. And some other things, like mathematics and science and reading. He basically home schooled me while traveling."

"He sounds like a nerd," Ellie quips as she chuckles under her breath. She looks out the window for one moment, admiring how pretty the view looks outside before looking back and watching a small tear roll down your cheek. She frowns instantly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you blatantly lie, your hand rubbing your eye and drying it up as you sniffle quietly. You glance at Ellie and give her a shaky smile as if to tell her that you're alright. She didn't believe you.

"It's obviously not nothing if you're crying," a thought occurs to Ellie. She narrows her eyes and pushes herself off the window, standing a little closer to you. The thought keeps circling in her head that your crying involves your dad. She knows her train of thought is intruding yours, but the curiosity and the guilt are eating away at her heart as she watches your eyes begin to gloss over. The red tint taking over the corners of your eyes irritates her; the tears she wishes she could wipe away never dare to roll from your eyelids, as if to taunt her and keep her on her toes.

You look away and let out a shaky exhale, your hands trembling as you reinforce your arms and stick your hands under them to warm them up. "He...he died. To infected."

Ellie felt her heart squeeze in her chest. Infected or hunters or other violent forms of humans were the most common causes of death. Along with disease and famine and dehydration and insanity. She felt the need to at least pat your shoulder to let you know that she's there if you need her to be; the urge dies as quickly as it sprouted when you add on.

"He killed himself by walking into a hoard of infected," you move your hand to clutch the medical badge, clenching your jaw and fighting back tears.

Your heart began racing in your chest similarly to last night; another cold sweat was gathering on your forehead and eyebrows that you didn't bother to wipe off. Your breath was coming shorter and shorter. Your body felt dizzy like you were stuck in a tornado. Panic took over you. Your lungs were weak and begging for air that the oxygen in the atmosphere wouldn't let you have. You were sure you had to get out, to get a breath of fresh air or you'd pass out right in front of Ellie. The image of passing out in front of her and making you look stupid made your heart race even faster. The panic was practically blocking your eardrums, you couldn't hear Ellie's voice trying to calm you down. The touch on your shoulder felt numb. The image of your father walking himself into that hoard, the infected feasting on his flesh and ripping apart his limbs and tearing his intestines out of his body played in your head like a movie your amygdala wouldn't let you forget. You could still hear the screams in your head and bouncing off the walls of your skull, ringing in your ears. The blood. The infected. The guts. The screams. The blood. The infected. The guts. The screams. The blood. The infected. The guts. The screams. The blood—

"—Hey! Hey, it's alright," Ellie caught you just as you were about to collapse. The slightest change in altitude made you feel lightheaded. You caught your breath, panting sharply. Your hands rested on Ellie's arms as she held you upright, your body against the wall for support. Your eyes focused on her face; your breath was still shaky. Your lips were quivering as tears glazed over your eyes again. You felt as if you got punched in the gut and your stomach acid was about to come up.

Your eyes widened as you pushed Ellie out of the way and darted for the trash can in the corner of the room, vomiting and crying into the trash bag. Your salty tears were dropping onto the pile of throw up on the bottom. The smell filled your nose and made you cough up another small wad of vomit before you turned your head away. Ellie's grip on your hair loosened; you didn't even realize she was holding it back until you felt a tug on your scalp from whipping your head around to look for her.

"You alright?" Ellie asked awkwardly, squaring her shoulders. She crouched down next to you and let your hair go, her hand resting comfortingly on your back and rubbing it gently.

You huffed softly as your eyes trained on her again. A calmness washed over you; your eyelids were heavy, your body felt exhausted. Your brain felt like oatmeal. The part of your brain that was still intelligible was telling you that you were too much, that you were a burden for Ellie and taking her with you to creek trails was a mistake. The glint in her eyes brought a sense of relief to you, making your body feel limp as you leaned your head against her shoulder and letting out a tired sigh.

"Peachy," you huff, making Ellie chuckle softly as her hand softly pats your hair for a moment, letting you rest on her and rely on her for comfort.

"You wanna rest for a little bit or do you think you can keep going?" She murmurs quietly into your ear. Ellie's hoarse voice was something your heart never got tired of; the low tone and the goldilocks-raspiness of it always made your chest feel warm and fuzzy.

"I'll be fine."

"Bullshit. I mean, we can go back to Jackson if you need to. You can trade with someone else and you can rest up."

"I said I'll be fine, Ellie," you pull yourself up from Ellie's shoulder. You scratch your neck nervously. You somehow find it in your spine to stand up, fixing your backpack over your shoulders and reaching into the side pocket. You pulled out a small thing of gum, opening it and popping a piece in your mouth. Occasionally you’d find little accessories on patrols around Jackson that weren’t expired like that gum you pulled out and you’d keep it for later use.

“Let’s keep going on patrol.”

“At least rinse your mouth out…that ain’t gonna do shit when there’s still barf caked around your mouth.”

Your cheeks heated up immediately as you looked down in embarrassment. You brought your glove up to wipe the vomit off your face with a cringe as you let your embarrassment take over you for a moment. You mentally noted to yourself not to touch your face again with that glove.

[star--nymph]

WIPS

By some other worldly miracle, I have managed to write some stuff. I can't believe it either. tagging peeps to join me!: @ndostairlyrium @pinayelf @shivunin @dreadfutures @plisuu

@greypetrel @cullenssweatyballsakk @rosieofcorona

@schwarznummer1 @elfroot-and-laurels

@pickelda @lyana-chan @isayashai @chanafehs @flowerofthekeep

WIP #1

Outside, she can hear Skyhold rising up with her; the distant echo of livestock being fed, the first rounds of soldiers and scouts trailing from the barracks, the clash of shields as early morning training begins, servants receiving their deliveries from the wagons and carts. Eurydice twists her hand again, letting her fingers dance between the light and shadow, her eyes peeking up at the perfect, vast, empty blue sky spying down from the hole. She shifts, her body nestled under the blankets and pillows, her other arm pinned underneath her. She spreads her free arm out around her, searching, grasping, wanting. She finds nothing, the space beside her is barely warm and growing colder. Her fingers dig into the sheets. There is a noise behind her, the hush of fabric and weight on wood, and she lifts herself toward it. Cullen is on the left side of the room, where he has organized his wardrobe and grooming supplies on a small table. He stands in front of a long square mirror, its edges ridged, a crack in the corner that crawls down the surface like a spider web. He stares at his chipped reflection as he secures the clasps of his gambeson. Even with his back to her, Eurydice can guess what his face might look like. Brow knitted, lips pressed into a thin line, most likely he is grinding his teeth without realizing it; a grave, tight expression she could not decipher, did not have the skill to understand. Only that it was the face he wore when he contemplating and had gone far from the world. His taunt shoulders and hunched back give only a hint of the thousands of things he must be thinking; what is coiled at the pit of his gut and left to fester overnight, merely ignored because he acquiesced to his body’s need to rest.

WIP #2

A constant state of discomfort. Cullen squeezed his eyes shut from the moment and shoved himself the wall, nostrils flaring as he harshly exhaled. He would persist. One foot after another, dragging as if he walked in thick sludge, he would climb the stairwell higher. Perhaps he did not remember where he had come from or how, but his body had carried him this far because it had known where it would find his sanctuary. Not in his loft nor in the chapel on his knees in front of the Blessed Bride; but behind the door where the dabbled sun pours in assaults his senses and yet embraces him in a hug. He brings a weak hand over his eyes as they begin to adjust to the noon light and starts to descend up the final set of stairs when a soft breath—a laugh, really—roots his boots to the spot. A laugh lulls like waves through a river into a song, “…gan tsaoil mhór Seothín seo ho, nach mór é an taitneamh Mo stóirín na leaba, na chodladh gan brón.” Cullen peeks through the holes of the railing and sees her there, sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to him. Her gray hair coils around her in a mess of mattered coils and knots, a nest he could barely run his hand through this morning without it catching. He hadn’t the mind to help her with it and Eurydice hadn’t cared to do it herself, though it was most likely that she hadn’t the time to spare. He sees her hair move and a tiny fist barely bigger than a sovereign caught within. Eurydice’s ears flicker up and he hears her sigh. “Shuuussshh, shuusssh A leanbh mo chléibh go n-eirí do chodhladh leat Séan is sonas gach oíche do chóir Tá mise le do thaobh ag guídhe ort na mbeannacht Seothín a leanbh is codail go foill.”

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

Of its many failures, social media is let down by the speed of its news cycle, and the fickleness of its followers.

We’ve all seen it happen…

A flash-in-the-pan story blows up overnight, catches fire, and captures the eyes and ears of the online world.

A groundswell arrives, ‘this is it’ you hear, whispered, and then as fast as it arrived… it’s gone. Nothing changes.

All that knee-taking, and placard waving.

All that chest beating, and fist shaking.

All those buckets of icy water dumped on heads, and black squares slapped onto Instagram feeds.

The endless clapping, and clattering of pans on doorsteps.

After all of it; the performative grandstanding and slack-tivism… and nothing.

So we look around, blinkered, confused and deflated, shuffling home like a washed-out trip head, coming down from last night’s high.

The words we yelled are a rapidly fading dream, to be wound up, stored away and cringed over, in years to come.

The party is packed down, but don’t worry, the next ‘this is it’ moment is right around the corner.

Two years ago, we saw scenes of historic bravery and sacrifice in Iran, we saw strength, unity and heartbreaking loss.

We saw the familiar response from social media, and heard the same promises made, as they always are.

And again, nothing.

But Iran never stopped, and the revolution rolls on, quieter now, and away from the watchful eyes of the world.

The ‘women-lead revolution’ and the colossal sacrifice it’s built upon, falls on the deaf ears of fair-weather activism, too busy indulging in its next great battle.

But we cannot afford for Iran, and the thousands killed, to be consigned to the history books, or forgotten about, as tomorrow’s chip paper.

Because the violence continues none the less, and the deaths stack up.

So why is nobody talking about Iran?

And does it need our help now, more than ever?

-

Annual Report: https://iranhr.net/media/files/Iran_Human_Rights-Annual_Report_2023.pdf

Iran: https://www.iranintl.com/en/202405032382

==

I've often thought about Iran and the - qualified, frequently rejecting the notion it has anything to do with Islam - Western support for the protesters in their fight against the regime, especially in comparison to the present-day Western support for the regime and their Hamas agents in Gaza.

But inevitably come away feeling guilty I couldn't find out much of what's going on. I suppose I imagined it died out, just as the coverage did. It's impressive that they've kept going but distressing that the barbarism of the regime is actively being ignored by the Western news cycle, given how calculated and malevolent the executions are.