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#he tried to turn it on but at that point the battery already died :(
spoopieere · 4 months
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New Year’s first post. Have fun ppl <3 (idk why but Tumblr keeps fucking the quality up)
The Collector & ChromeSkull Tamagotchis :3
Arkin - Asa: 🔒 🕷
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Preston- Jesse: 🍷 💀
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strawberrysturniolo · 4 months
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goal part 2 // hockey!chris
summary: your boyfriend tries to take some pressure off you by taking you on a late night ice skating date
part one, part three
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“Chris,” I groan. “I have a final tomorrow. I really shouldn’t go out.”
“The fact that you have a final is the exact reason why you should go out,” he argues. We’ve been on the phone for ten minutes, the entire call consisting of Chris trying to persuade me to ditch my studying and head to wherever his plan is to take us. That's part of the issue. If I knew what he wanted to do, maybe I wouldn’t be so hesitant to leave tonight. “You’ve been so stressed out this semester. Let’s end it right.”
I go silent, weighing my options. When I don’t answer fast enough, Chris continues his methods of convincing me. 
“Come onnnnn. I’ll come pick you up and we can go have some fun.”
I sigh, unable to win this argument. 
“Pick you up in 15?”
“See you then.”
“Bye baby.”
I tidy up my study space, which consists of scattered notes and multicolored pens, color-coding different sections of my pages. 
After my room is cleaned to my liking, which is just enough to where it doesn’t look like a tornado came through, I pull on a sweatshirt and another jacket over top, considering the weather in the North East is below freezing. 
I run down the steps to my apartment complex, finding Chris in his car out front. The light hum of rap music playing seeps out of the car, and I’m met with the sound of no other than his favorite artist when I open the door. 
The door opening catches his attention. He looks up from his phone, a soft smile on his face. “Hi.”
“Hi, pretty boy.” I cup his chin with my left hand as I buckle myself with the other, kissing his lips. When I pull back, his eyes are still closed, and his smile is only growing. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” he finally says as he puts the car in drive and peels out of my lot. His hand alternates between holding my hand and my thigh, sometimes drawing circles on my knee, other times squeezing my hand and playing with my fingers. It’s obvious that his love language is physical touch. It’s like his battery dies if our bodies aren’t connected in some way, whether it’s him thrusting into me or him giving my hand soft kisses while he drives. I can feel him recharge just by touching me, and something about that makes me feel powerful. 
The drive is silent on our part, other than the music playing lowly out of the speakers. I don’t ask question, but rather stare at him as he makes each turn, continuing down paths I’m unfamiliar with, insisting it’s the backway. Eventually, we pull up to a place I am very familiar with.
“The hockey rink?” I ask, watching him unbuckle and get out of the car. I quickly do the same. 
“Yeah,” he says, tucking his hands into his pockets. He pulls his beanie down over his ears, which have turned a soft shade of red in the cold. 
I jog to catch up with him. “Isn’t it closed for the night?”
“Mhm,” he hum, but he finds a way inside anyway. I follow him anxiously as we head to the locker room, where all of his hockey gear is stored. He grabs his own skates, tells me to wait for him to return, and comes back with skates for me. 
“How’d you get those?” I ask timidly. 
He tosses them down at the floor, then kneels down to help me tie them. “From the rentals.” I don’t bother making a point of the fact that no student is there working the rentals, and not only are we trespassing, but we’re also stealing. My anxiety is skyrocketing. I was already worried about my final and making sure I had ample time to study, and now I have my boyfriend breaking and entering with me as his stupid sidekick. “We’re fine, babe,” he assures me as if he can read my mind. “Do you know how often I come here to practice after hours? As long as we don’t fuck anything up, we’re fine.” 
“So no stealing the zamboni?” I tease, starting to loosen up. 
He breathes out a laugh, then stands after tying my skates before he rests his foot on a bench to tie his own. “Definitely not.”
He holds my hand as I struggle to walk properly on my skates. Once we make it to the ice, he takes my hands carefully, holding them securely as he steps backwards onto the rink. 
“I got your hands,” he assures me. We’ve had numerous ice skating dates since we started going out, but still, my hockey boyfriend is unable to teach me how to maneuver on the ice. 
I nod uneasily, trying to think of anything other than falling. Chris holds my arms, skating backwards slowly, pulling my body with him. I probably look ridiculous, but he’s grinning, happy to be sharing his safe space with me. 
“There you go!” he cheers. “You got it, baby!” 
I nod, smiling a bit, trying to lift my own feet and skate by myself. It works the first few strides, until I lose my balance and start to go down. He catches me before I can fall, hooking his hands under my arms and pulling me back up.
“That was really good. You’re doing a lot better than when you started.”
In no way am I trying to become an olympic skater, but it would be nice if I could stand on my own two feet when skating with my boyfriend who has played hockey since he could walk. 
He continues to pull me around the ice, praising me for my attempts to take control of my own feet. Eventually, we lay down on the ice, one arm behind his head, and the other wrapped around me. We stare at the ceiling of the rink, a comfortable silence forming before I break it.
“What are we going to do when we graduate?”
This question has been eating at both of us. I’m not from this city, and he is. He has scouts looking at him for professional hockey, but he has no idea if he plans on playing in the NHL. I need to take advantage of getting my career started, but I don’t want to leave him. 
“We still have another year,” he reminds me, but I know at this point that this is his way of avoiding my question.
“I know but I don’t know if I plan on staying in Boston,” I add. 
He inhales sharply. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
I lift my head up, turning over to him so he can focus on me and our conversation. This is important, Chris. Please listen to me. “What's going to happen with us?”
“I said I don’t want to talk about this,” he repeats, his eyes burning holes in mine. I start to feel mine well up, and to stop myself from shedding a tear over his tone and the topic of conversation, I set my head on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat. 
“I’m sorry,” I mumble.
It takes him a second, but he puts his hand on my back, his cheek pressing on the top of my head. “What final do you have tomorrow?” he asks, changing the subject. 
“Psychology.” The sight of my colorful notes are engraved in my brain. 
“What time?” 
“Noon.”
“Do you want to get lunch after?” he suggests. “My treat since you’ve been working so hard.”
“That sounds nice,” I nod. “How are your finals going?”
“I’m passing,” he answers shortly. “That’s all that matters.”
I give him a look. He knows exactly what I’m thinking. The thing with Chris is that he’s very smart, he just doesn’t care about college, and I really don’t think he would have gone if he hadn’t received a hockey scholarship. The only reasons his brothers attended were because they received the same scholarship, and they all wanted to stick together. He’s majoring in Entrepreneurship. His brain is flooded with creative ideas that it seemed like the best option for him to be able to study while pursuing hockey.
“The classes that matter are the ones I’m doing better in,” he says, noting his few business classes. “The stupid shit like history that has no relevance to my degree, that’s a different story. All that matters is that I pass so I can play hockey.”
He hates talking about school. I can see it on his face. He wishes I would change the subject. It’s obvious. 
I press a kiss to his soft lips. He returns the act, then shocks me when he speaks.  
“Stay here for Christmas.”
I feel my heart fall into my stomach, I try not to stumble over my words. “I can’t, I have to visit my family.”
“Do you think you could come like… the day after, sometime really close to Christmas?” he poses instead. “I wanna feel like we’re celebrating the day of.”
It warms my heart that he wants to celebrate this together. We haven’t discussed much of it. We’re not really the gift giving kind of couple. We care so much more about these moments, where it’s just us holding each other. 
“I’ll see what I can do,” I answer him, unable to give a clear answer. “I can definitely be here for new years.”
“Good,” he smiles, content. “You owe me a kiss.”
“Oh do I?” I tease, leaning up to him.
“Mhm.”
I press another kiss to his lips. His hands snake around my back, his tongue opening my lips before gliding against mine. A quiet moan leaves my mouth as his hand tangles in my hair. My hand holds his jaw, begging for more of him. 
That’s when I flinch at the sound of the main lights being flashed on.
Chris pulls back, his eyes widening as he struggles to stand up. “Oh fuck.” He grabs my hand and pulls me up, skating off the ice and dragging me behind him. “Shit shit shit shit shit,” he chants. 
“What is it?” I ask, trying to look behind me and find whoever is here.
Chris bends down in front of me, untying our laces and yanking our skates off our feet. I almost fall over at the force of him pulling mine off. 
“Okay, well,” he starts, already out of breath. “I may have lied a little.”
My eyes widen. “What??”
I follow his jog to the locker room where he grabs his things and tosses me my shoes, 
“I do come here sometimes to skate and clear my head,” he admits. “But that usually ends at 8, sometimes 9 depending on the day of the week.”
“What time is it now?” I ask, and when he turns his phone over to me, I feel my stomach drop. 
1:22 am.
How long were we here?
“You guys can’t be in here!” someone shouts from a distance. “Trespassing on property can result in expulsion, and if you aren’t a student, I could have you arrested!” 
My eyes widen, fear written all over me. 
“Shh. It’s fine. Just follow my lead,” he says. I nod once, then watch him dig around in his hockey bag. He pulls out his helmet, tugs it down on my head to cover my face, then pulls his own hoodie up. He grabs my hand, and on his cue, I’m sprinting out of the building with him. 
“Hey!” 
“Go go go!” Chris tells me. I run in front of him, turning around at the sound of hockey sticks clattering on the floor.
Chris yanked down a bucket of 20 hockey sticks, causing a mess in front of whoever is chasing us, giving us a few extra seconds to get out of here. 
I jump in the car, not even realizing that the helmet is still on my head. Chris’ wheels squeal as he speeds out of the parking lot, finally getting buckled once we’re away. The sound of his laughter snaps me back into it. 
“What?!” I ask him, annoyed that he could find this situation funny. 
“You look cute as fuck in my helmet.”
I reach for the face mask, trying to pull it off, only struggling in the process. He reaches over and removes it for me. 
“I’m sorry about that,” he says, fixing my hair. “Garrett in there is a dick. He has this whole god complex because he works after hours. Weird as hell.” 
“I should really go home and get some sleep before my final.”
He nods, guilt displayed on his face. “Can I have a do over tomorrow after your final? Your casual lunch date just got upgraded because I feel bad.”
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” I tease, kissing his cheek before he drops me off at home. 
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"Today, students, we are learning about--" The professor huffs, not merely because the size of his womb prevents his lungs from fully expanding, although it certainly made things ironic. "--The reproductive system." He looks out across the auditorium, the scores of students in attendance, and scattered throughout are the five responsible for his current condition. And each of them is wearing a smug expression. He tries not to give them any overdue attention; he already looked overdue as it was. His belly jutted out in front of him like an exercise ball, comparable in both sides and shape, though thankfully he was able to afford custom garments tailored to his... unique dimensions. It wasn't just his belly that was obscenely large; his entire body had changed to match, to support this incredible pregnancy. He wasn't slim to begin with, months and months ago when he took those five students on, but the rest of his curves were proportional to his belly. Thick and powerful thighs were needed to lug this boulder of a baby bump around; tremendous hips that made traditional doorways a challenge each and every time; and not to ignore the elephant in the room, his breasts had swollen to ludicrous proportions, each larger than a typical third-trimester belly. A great deal of his salary was now sacrificed to his wardrobe, in need of constant updates so to continue covering his flesh so not to risk indecently. Even so, the buttons of his vest--which could only hope to contain his breasts at this point--were straining mightily. He feared that they might pop if he moved too quickly or even breathed too deeply... which, as previously established, was a challenge. Mustering all the strength in his arms, he placed his hands underneath the base of his belly and with a great show of effort, hefted the gravid orb as best he could, before waddling over to his desk to give his aching legs a break. He really thought that he could stand for at least a minute before breaking, but that was getting harder every time... so hard in fact, that he didn't make it all the way to his chair before he had to plop his belly onto the desk for a quick breather. His ample chest heaved with every breath. "Apologies, I just need a second to catch my breath," he said into his microphone, then to try and lighten the mood, he cracked a joke at his own expense, "Who better to teach you this lesson today than an expert?" There was a low chuckle throughout the room that quickly died down, because really who could stomach watching a man struggling like this? He could name all five of them. He cursed under his breath, that day of weakness oh so many months ago, when he offered those same students--the lost performing in his class--a bump to their grades. And now he was the one sporting a bump. A ridiculously huge one. According to the last ultrasound, each of them had placed at least one fetus inside him, but he was much, much bigger than quints would suggest. He speculated they'd all taken fertility drugs ahead of time, something new and unknown to the market. Which made him a guinea pig. Wiping the sweat from his brow, instead of trying to lift his belly again, he merely pivoted around the desk before falling back in his seat, causing his whole belly to jostle. That upset the children, and he was immediately assaulted with a battery of angry kicks and punches, forceful enough to stretch his clothes. The professor, quite unintentionally, moaned directly into the microphone as the brood inside him protested their treatment. Some of the students shied away, cringing, turning to their phones to distract themselves from the vulgar sight... But five amid the crowd watched more keenly, practically on the edges of their seats, as they watched their children squirm inside the haughty professor--the professor they had given a master class to, on the finer points of human reproduction. Needless to say, they had enjoyed perfect grades for months~
i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love this i love him 😍
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bullet-prooflove · 1 month
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3500 Follower Celebration: The First Man - Scott Forrester x Reader
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Tagging: @a-noni-love @district447 @soultrysworld @delightfulheroshoeflap @upsteadlogic @ottitt @too-strong-to-losee @hearthockey @alice30martini @kmc1989 @tems13 @gatefleet @mrspeacem1nusone @keabbs
Companion piece to Berlin
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It’s cold up on the roof, even with your overcoat. Someone’s tried to make it into a break area, they’ve pulled out a wrought iron bench, set out a couple of garden tables on either side, some battery powered lamps. You sit down upon the bench, your hands tucked firmly into your pockets as you stare out across the nighttime sky. You can’t stand to be downstairs right now, to see the sympathy in the flight team’s gazes, the pity as they fill out the reports detailing your humiliation.
You don’t turn around when you hear the door open behind you, you already know it’s Scott. You’ve become attuned to his presence in the time you’ve worked together, you’d know it anywhere. He takes a seat alongside of you and you can’t bring yourself to look at him. Your chest aches as you fix your gaze straight ahead.
“We don’t have to talk about it.” Scott says quietly as he studies the skyline. “We can just sit here together until you’re ready to leave.”
He means the interview with Simon, the man you’ve been seeing over the last four months, the one who’d seduced you to gather intelligence. You’d watched through the window of the interrogation room as he’d told Scott all of the gory details. What you liked, how you liked it.
“It had been a long time for her, I could tell.” Simon had told him as he leaned over the table almost conspiratory, as if he was just having a conversation, one man to another. “There was a look in her eyes when she came, a release. She told me afterwards about her husband but I already knew, it was the reason I picked her.”
“He’s the first man I’ve been with since Matthew died.” You find yourself telling Scott.
There’s a cruelty in what Simon did. It’s taken you three years to get to a point where you were you felt ready to move on, to let someone else in again.
You’d been stationed in Germany with Europol when you’d discovered Matthew’s illness. He had been a translator for the UN, working all over the world, he thought the travel was wearing him down until he coughed up blood one morning and by then it was too late.  He’s died only a few weeks later and it was like your whole world had fallen apart. You couldn’t stand to be in Berlin after that. You’d applied for the transfer to Budapest, become part of his team.
“I just wanted to feel something again, to remember what it was like…”
You don’t need to say the words, Scott understands.
You wanted to feel loved again, desired.
“I can’t go home tonight. ” You tell him, your voice breaking as you press your fingers to your lips. “I can’t sleep in those sheets. He was at my place last night. We...”
You’ve managed to keep your shit together until now, remained impassive in the face of it all but you’re bleeding out, Scott can see it and it’s visceral. If he could take it all away he would but he can’t turn back the clock, he can’t stop Simon from charming his way into your bed, from using you but he can make your reality a little easier.
“Stay with me tonight.” Scott says quietly, his hand coming to rest upon yours.  “You’ll have to share the bed with Tank but I’ll take the couch. Tomorrow we can deal with the sheets, we can move your furniture around, look at listings, whatever you want but tonight just give yourself the time to breathe, to process everything that’s happened.”
“Ok.” You say, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Thank you, I just…”
You can’t say how much it means to you, to have that space, to be around someone who isn’t trying to take something away from you, who doesn’t expect anything of you.
“You will get through this.” Scott promises you, his fingers entwining with yours. “And I will do everything in my power to help you.”
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cheemscakecat · 2 months
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Hear me Out: Detroit become rebooted major changes.
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Alice is an actual human girl. If Cyberlife created an android line to look and act like human children, it would lead to controversy and a declining birth rate as more couples bought disposable android children. Todd also should not be able to afford a new top of the line child android.
Kara doesn’t belong to Todd; she belongs to his drug peddling organization. They bought her for their front to build credibility, and tampered with her code. Kara doesn’t call the police when she finds Red Ice or witnesses Alice being abused because her owners purposely removed her memory share and police calling protocol. She was only at Todd’s house because the front was being inspected, and her code would look suspicious. Especially during the deviant crisis.
They can’t flee to Canada. Canada would be wary of Cyberlife’s products due to the deviancy cases, and since androids are not human/are property, they would not be permitted to cross the border without an adult owner and registration.
They go to Eden [Jericho] to escape the police [who Todd foolishly reported Alice’s kidnapping too] and the drug gang [who don’t want their operation to be exposed].
Alice is a human who will be living amongst hiding deviants, who are going to require Kara to do missions for their rebellion in exchange for her presence in Eden and the resources needed to care for a child.
Instead of playing as Markus, we play as Alice between Kara and Connor’s missions as a way to give the player a break and to explore the rebellion. Alice -being an abused child- acts like many of the androids around her, to their surprise. Many of them have only had experiences with abusive humans, and some have not interacted with children.
We learn Markus’s backstory through Alice getting to know him. That way we don’t have to explain how the rebellion started or how Markus inspired frightened androids to rebel; something the original DBH did not expand on well. Markus is surprised that a human father could show such cruelty to his offspring; being Carl’s son. Alice can’t imagine yelling at her father, even if everything she said was true [unlike Leo].
North’s reckless view on killing humans can be challenged by interacting with Alice, if the player chooses the right dialogue. She and other androids would not have considered the innocent humans who would die if they set off a nuke, even if Markus tried to explain Carl to them. Seeing and/or befriending an innocent human with much in common with them would be more convincing.
If Kara is captured by the police instead of Todd/the gang, they’ll find out she was innocent. They can also find out if Connor decides to see why Todd is kicking up a fuss at the station, which will draw Hank over. In both cases, Hank will become furious with that abusive druggie and beat him senseless.
Asking Hank why he snapped on Todd is another way that Connor can find out about Cole, and will affect his mission to find Eden. It doesn’t result in him telling you how Cole died; just that Hank had a son and abusive parents make him sick, since they throw away their chances to love their kids.
Alice would be Connor’s foil; she’s a human that acts like an android and easily befriended/understood them, Connor is an android that acts like the humans they fear, and the deviants see him as an abomination.
Instead of Markus confronting Connor, Alice confronts him. If Kara was captured or Todd was found out, he’ll already know she’s telling the truth about why Kara stole her. Her standing up for the deviants and saying they’re better than some humans would hold weight if Hank beat Todd and mentioned Cole. An abused human girl sharing similar body language with the deviants might give Connor the realization that the glitch is mainly caused by abuse and trauma. This would be the point where Connor can turn deviant.
When Connor’s battery is about to die, he explains Cyberlife’s backup supply of his model and warns the rebellion that they’ll be sent without his memories. So they won’t become deviant like him. But if Kara has done the right missions at the Cyberlife warehouse, Connor’s current memory can be uploaded into another model at the factory, enabling him to do an an important mission there.
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suck4angststory · 1 year
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Let It Go (Joel Miller x Fem!Reader)
Summary: Joel Miller thinks everything he has died on September 26, 2003. But when Marlene asks him to smuggle Ellie to the State House, it brings someone from his past. Pieces of his past that he thinks are already gone, the reason he has nightmares every night. When he looked at her for the first time in 20 years, she was different from someone he knew back then. She was not someone he used to know or, always memorized in his mind to keep him sane in this world.
Author Note: English is not my first Language, sorry for the grammar mistake. I hope you guys like it. If you want to be tagged, just let me know in the comments. I can't reply to any of your comments because it's a side blog. But I am really thankful for your comments and responses.
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Prologue
No one told Joel Miller in his life as a smuggler, he had to smuggle some kid that is associated with something he despise so much.
FIREFLY
He hates them. They turned his own brother, making his brother live in danger, always getting on the line to get killed by FEDRA because of their way to get the "Freedom" they always shout every day just to get into gun war with FEDRA.
Their fantasy about making the world a better place managed to get inside his brother's head. As far as he knows, Tommy Miller, his brother will jump into action when it comes to humanity. Just like when he listed himself to the Army, but in the end, he has to fix the damage of the war that affects his brother. For Joel Miller, there's no worth in saving this world anymore. It's already broken, and it can't be saved. The human, the infected, the government, they are all the same. "Firefly is a bunch of delusional freaks" that is what he likes to call them.
But, as he thought, luck was never in his favor. The truck battery he's gonna use to find Tommy got stolen. When he and his partner try to find the battery, he gets a clue where the battery will gonna sold. Firefly of Boston. And, here he is, face to face. with Firefly leader, Marleen, he has to make a deal with her, because it is just her that has stock for cars and batteries.
Here he is now, having a deal with Marleen to smuggle some girl.
Since Tommy joined Firefly, they always have had arguments. Before that, they argued, but never often. When he joined Firefly, Joel and Tommy always argued. Tommy accuses Joel of being selfish and doesn't have a heart when Joel tries to stop Tommy join them. After that, he and his brother never got along.
For Tommy, this world can be saved, there's a way to save this world and the people in it. It is worth saving this World. But for Joel, saving this world is not worthy, is already broken, and it always gonna be. What's the point of saving it, if his world is already burned and broken because of this outbreak.
But Tommy is the only family he has left in this world.
If it was not for Tommy, he wouldn't take this job. But, he knows, Firefly stuff means repurposed of FEDRA stuff. So it's better than some shitty batteries they'll get outside. And he doesn't have any battery right now because of Robert, the scum that stole his battery.
He relieved that scum is dead.
***
Joel let out a sigh and plopped himself to lie down on the couch while this kid, Ellie, if he heard right what Marlene called her, rambling about radio and 80s songs. He has to babysit while Tess talks to Marlene about the deal.
"What're you doing?" Ellie asks him, seeing him close his eyes with one hand resting on his forehead and the other on his chest.
"Killin time," Joel mumbled with closed eyes.
"Well, what am I supposed to do?" She asked and looked at him, annoyed.
"I'm sure you'll figure that out." He gruffs out. Ellie rolled her eyes and shifted her eyes at the table beside her. Try to find something to 'killin' her time'. She took the Billboard hits songbook that Joel had taken from her before.
"Your watch is broken." Ellie walked past him to the couch in the corner beside the window. Joel ignores her because he knows his watch will never get fixed, the same as himself.
Joel starts drifting to sleep. To the nightmares, he knows he'll always gonna get. And when he woke up, he's gonna have this hollow feeling in his heart. Everyday.
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤
"You mumble in your sleep." Ellie's voice is the first thing Joel heard after the screaming sound in his head is gone when the fire started. He opened his eyes and saw Ellie staring out of the window. Her elbow rested on the window sill with her fist on her jaw supporting her head.
Joel gets up from his position. His back is aching sleeping on the couch. Being half of a century, meaning everything he does will affect his body immediately. Including sleeping on a hard couch.
"I've never been on the other side of the Wall. Look how dark it is. You guys go out there a lot?" Ellie shifted her gaze to him.
"I guess." He grumbles, trying to find the right position to sit comfortably.
"When was the last time?" She asked curiously.
"Maybe a year. What's it matter?" Joel is already feeling impatient. This kid asks a lot of questions., he mumbles in his mind. He doesn't like to talk about the past.
"But you know where to go. So we're gonna be okay." Joel is a bit taken aback by this. Because there's no okay outside of that wall. Hell, he doesn't even know if he's gonna okay every time they go out smuggling. Because something and someone is gonna be waiting for them, ready to change their fate immediately if they ever cross paths.
"Yeah." But Joel answered it with what she wanted to hear.
Joel shifted in his seat and leaned to rest his back on the back of the couch. One arm spread open.
"So, what's the deal with you anyway? You some kinda bigwig's daughter or somethin'?" Joel asked Ellie, trying to know her better. Ellie, back to watch outside from the window. She saw how the sky became darker, and the moon and stars started to be blanketed by grey clouds.
"Something like that." Ellie shrugs. There's a long silence between them. Ellie then breaks the silence with something she has in her mind when Joel is asleep.
"Oh, the radio came on when you were sleeping." She said, still looking outside the window
"What? What was the song?" Joel leaned forward to hear better what she's gonna say. He was ready to jump into action.
"He kept saying', like, like, 'Wake me up before you go-go'? " Ellie tried to suppress the smirk on her face seeing Joel's concerned look.
"Shit." Joel let out a breath he was holding. Something happening with them. He and Tess have to get to them and check on them. Last time, they sent the code, when they almost got raided by the raiders, and Bill got shot and had to stay in bed for a week because he lost so much blood.
"Gotcha. The '80s mean trouble. Code broken." Ellie let out the smirk she was holding. Okay, he has enough, Joel rises to his feet
"Listen..." Before he can finish his sentence, Tess walks in. Ellie gave Joel a smug looked. Tess stepped into the house and took off her bag.
"The spot under Lancaster looks good." She nodded at Joel and then shifted her attention to Ellie.
"You got a jacket in your pack?" She nodded towards Ellie.
"Yeah." Ellie nodded her head
"Okay, get it. It's time to go." Ellie then rose to her feet and opened her bag to pull out her jacket.
"Oh, and Marlene wants her to come with us." Tess looked behind her, but no one was there. It makes all of them stop in their tracks.
Joel places his hands on his hips. "Who she wants us to smuggler again?" Joel asked Tess, annoyed, but she was already opening the door to talk to someone behind it.
"What're you doing?" Tess voice echoed in the hallway and transferred through the open door to their ears.
"I'm tying my boots." The voice. Joel and Ellie froze at their feet because of this voice. But they have different reactions, Joel's reaction is more like disbelief, shock, and astounded. The hands on his hips lower slightly to his sides.
Ellie is the opposite of Joel's reactions, she's happy hearing this voice. Because she knows damn well who that was. A smile slowly creeps on her face.
"Well, hurry up, don't waste the time. Is gonna rain soon" Tess walked inside the apartment and started gathering the supply they'll need.
The echo of heavy boots hitting the wooden floor filled their hearing. Every step it produces makes oxygen in Joel's lungs begin to dilute. His heart rate is jumping so fast, He thinks he's gonna have a heart attack. And when the owner of the Footsteps stood in the door with a shotgun strapped to her shoulder, he let out a squeak. His breath in his throat got stuck there. Suddenly, He's back again on that dreadful night, twenty years ago, on September 26, 2003. The reason he started to drown himself in pills and cheap whiskey. Hoping that two things just take him to them.
She stood there, Lock eyes with him. But their expression is not match. She looked at him with no expression printed on her face. Like she prepares for this. Then she shifted her gaze to Ellie, who was grinning so wide seeing her in there.
"(Y/N)!!" Ellie ran to her and bump into Joel in the process, almost knocking Joel to the ground. His knees are suddenly so weak if it's not Tess wraps her hands around his bicep to steady him. Joel doesn't even realize when was Tess beside him, shaking his arm to make him snap from his staring. But he can't move, he is still frozen, and he can't shift his gaze.
All Joel does is stare at this woman in front of her. Where Ellie, their cargo, gave her tight hugs. Her face was buried in her chest.
There, they stood in Joel and Tess's Apartment, with a few feet between them. (Y/N) hand in Ellie's shoulder while Ellie wrapped her arms in (Y/N) midsection in a tight embrace. Joel stood on the other side, with Tess by his side, placing her hands on Joel's biceps. No words got exchanged, just looked.
One was disbelief, hope, and relief seeing her standing and breathing in front of him. He want to run and engulfed her in his arms. To feel that she was real but the looked in her eyes. Stopped Joel.
The other looked at him with different eyes. They're not the same eyes as he remembers. When there's love in them every time he looks, They're not the same warm eyes that like watching him sleep. Whenever he woke up, the first thing he saw was those eyes, that warm, kind, and loving eyes, and the warm smile she always gave him to start his day. But, in front of him, It's like he looked at someone else. No expression, just cold eyes that looked at him like they were just some distant folks.
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stellaricwriting · 2 years
Text
kinktober - somnophilia
Somno/Sleepy Sex with Argbur/Editor Wilbur
warnings for somnophilia, dubcon, unsafe sex
It wouldn’t be a stretch to say you’re used to sharing a bed with your roommate, at this point. Between the failing electricity your landlord never got around to replacing and the below zero temperatures the winter brought, you’re both desensitized to grabbing your blankets and crawling into the other’s bed for warmth. Maybe for comfort sometimes, too.
He’s been gone more, lately. Out for days at a time, working on a project of his. You’re happy for him, in many ways, glad he has something to be passionate about, like this. But god, you wish he’d at least text you back and let you know he’s okay, especially on days like these when the already frigid temperature drops into the kind of cold that feels unreal. You check your phone as you double check the locks before bed, sighing at the lack of new notifications, and resign yourself to getting extra blankets out of storage to block out the cold.
You don’t really know when you fell asleep, your phone slipping out of your hand and falling under your pillows, but you become aware of it when you’re ripped from it by a loud noise. The room is pitch black, making you blink hard as your brain stutters, thinking you hadn’t opened your eyes yet, the absence of the lights of your electronics gone. Another blackout.
You startle when your bedroom door opens, but you feel only relief when you see Wilbur, buried in blankets, his phone flashlight on as he staggers into the room. You scoot over in bed automatically, letting him collapse next to you. He groans dramatically as he does, burrowing closer to where you were asleep, leeching off the warmth there, and you huff a laugh. He’s always craved warmth, almost desperately.
You move his phone so it’s lighting up the room, and start helping him bundle in, frowning when you realize he’s still wearing his coat and shoes. It takes some convincing to pull his face out of your blankets, but you manage to bully him into taking off his outerwear, pulling him back into bed the moment he’s done.
His phone light turns off as the battery dies, and you’re left lying together in darkness, face to face, blankets pulled up over your heads to keep in the warmth.
There’s a moment of silence.
“I’m home, by the way.”
You hide your laugh in your pillow, “I never would have guessed! Welcome home, Wil.”
You ask him how his project is going, listening to him ramble about it as you doze off. He never goes into the details, tries to be vague about it in a way that tips you off that it’s probably more than a little creepy, but you’re long used to him. You let his voice lull you back into sleep, sighing contently as you register the smell of some kind of cologne, and your last amused thought is that he must have put some on before coming home.
——
When you wake up again, it’s still dark, and you’re unwilling to spend enough time outside the blankets to check the power. In your sleep, you’ve changed positions. Wilbur’s arms tight around your waist, dragging you back into his chest, his face tucked into the nape of your neck. It’s endearing, the way he always ends up clinging to you.
You almost slip back into sleep, your eyes heavy and your roommate comfortable, when he shifts in his sleep, the hot breath of a sigh against your skin making you shiver. Then you feel the press of his hips, and your cheeks flush hot. God, he’s so hard, his hips rocking gently into yours as his grip tightens momentarily. You breathe out shakily, a hand fisting in the sheets as you hide your hot face in the pillow.
Your relationship with Wilbur has never gone there, before. He’s always been gorgeous, even when he’s a mess, and you can’t deny you’ve thought about it before, but you’ve never been brave enough to say something. You should pull away now, pretend it never happened, that you never guiltily basked in the way he pulled you close to grind against you in his sleep.
But you don’t.
You don’t, instead taking a shaking breath and experimentally rocking back against him, savoring in the way his hands fist in your sleep shirt, in the quiet, low groan against the back of your neck. It feels like sin, and you almost want to cry, that this is all you’ll get, that you’re such a pervert you’ve resorted to this.
You’re so caught up in it, the feeling of his cock pressed against you, the thought of more with him, that you barely notice when he goes still behind you, your hips still rocking back lazily. You do notice, however, the sharp breath he takes, and the quiet curse he lets out. The drawn out fuuuuck in a voice heavy with sleep is intoxicating, and you whimper before you can register that you should be pretending to sleep, pretending you’re not- not this kind of creep.
Wilbur is still behind you, and you think he’s even stopped breathing with how quiet he’s gone. You can feel tears of embarrassment pricking at your eyes, making you squeeze them shut, biting your lip at the thought of the conversation you’ll be having. Your mind is running, spiraling into anxiety and worst case scenarios, images of Wilbur calling you names, demanding you move out.
Then, his hands are tight on your hips, and he’s rolling his hips deliberately into yours once, twice, experimental and hard. The sudden stimulation makes you choke, half gasp and half whine of his name. You barely have time to process how you’ve given yourself away, because he’s groaning, loud and needy, and then his face is buried in your neck, pressing soft kisses over your pulse point.
“You’re- god- you’re awake, fuck… You want this, don’t you sweetheart?”
Your gasping reply is a needy whine of his name, a shy please as you tilt your head to give him better access to your throat, a squeak as he groans and nips at your skin. His hands slip up under your shirt, skimming over your stomach and up to grope your chest with greedy fingers. The way he squeezes your tits, pinching and rolling your nipples gently, has you squirming against him, torn between pressing back into him more and arching your chest into his hands.
You can barely think past your own desperation, barely comprehend the words Wil is saying, the steady stream of desperate filth spilling from his lips between harsh bites and soft kisses. All you know is he’s wanted this for ages and you have no idea why he’s not inside you already. When you voice this, he goes still for a moment. Then, you’re being flipped onto your back, his hands sturdy and firm as he squeezes your thighs, settling between them and thrusting against you, only a few layers of cloth keeping you apart.
He stays like that for what feels like eternity, languidly grinding against you and listening to you whine, before he finally pulls away, just far enough to strip you down, abandoning your bottoms to the ocean of blankets but only shoving your shirt up enough to expose your chest.
You’re half expecting him to fuck into you right away, desperation making both your hands shake, but instead he tucks his face into your neck to mouth at your skin as he slides a finger, then two inside you. You tangle your hands in his hair, accidentally pulling as he curls his fingers up and makes you moan, loud and pleading. He preps you methodically, working you into a soaking, needy mess as he does, compliments moaned into your ear the whole time.
When he finally presses the head of his cock against you, you nearly sob. You didn’t know you could get this wet, but when he pushes in it’s effortless, filling you so perfectly your mind shorts out. He bottoms out and you’re in nirvana, in heaven, in every form of paradise all at once. You’re so full and he’s so deep inside you, he’s everywhere, cold hands smoothing over your hips and his mouth on your chest, pressing wet kisses down towards your ribs.
He rocks into you, gentle and sweet, and god, if it isn’t everything you’ve ever needed. His breath is shaky, moans slipping out through his stuttered praise, and it’s so clear he’s trying to hold back, trying to be good for you, and it’s so sweet you could almost cry.
Instead, you hook your legs behind his back and beg him to fucking ruin you.
He sobs on a moan, and obliges you, quickly shifting the pace until he’s pounding into you, making you wail. He pushes you over the edge so fast, and when you come it’s to a snarled chorus of mine, mine, mine.
He fucks into you almost mercilessly, lost in pleasure, and all you can do is cling, squeezing tight around him, and when he finally chokes on a final moan and comes, it’s to your needy plea for him to come inside, Wil- please!
He presses his forehead to yours as he comes down from the high, collapsing on top of you, only to roll to the side so you’re held by him again, and you nuzzle into his neck as you breathe.
You’ll have to talk, in the morning when you can both be clear headed adults, but for now you sink into his hold and savor the touch. He feels warm, a rarity for him, and you can feel his cum hot on your thigh as it leaks out of you. It’ll be gross later, but for now it just feels like another mark that proves you’re his.
You slip back into sleep quickly, but before you do, you could almost swear you hear a murmur of I love you.
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Text
The mirrored alter was sat on the roof of the cabin again, it was dark out and the stars shone so clearly in the sky without the light pollution from the city, he hugged his knees to his chest and just let the tears spill down his cheeks. He felt so empty and seeing all the stars out there made him feel so empty, it hurt all the time but he bore through it in silence. He lifted his hand towards the sky and seeing how he looked dark compared to it just made him remember how often his grandfather had mocked him for being a failure of a nova, he sat there and let the whispers grow louder, the shadows curled and reached for him yet he was just so tried he didn’t even react as he watched the marking a spread over his hands, was there much point in him living like this?
He lay back against the roof and stared blankly, almost hollowly up at the night sky, he heard the sounds of the forest and he knew his dad was probably inside doing something. Wasn’t he holding him back? Did he regret having a son like him? Probably, he was already born defective with gene problems, but then after he got kidnapped and had his RIG forcibly installed he found out his mom had died. That was more than any child should have had to handle, but god hated him so much he took the very thing away from him that made him whole. It was a cruel irony that he was the sacrifice to “make us whole” as the markers wanted, as the brother moons wanted, why was he even fighting? What was there for him?
He was made up of bad things, he didn’t deserve to live. He brought up his display and stared at the commands, he could just turn his battery off, he could just die. Just like that. His finger hovered over the command,the markings swirling excitedly almost as if trying to hold his hand out to do it, to end it. What even was the point of him living like this? He didn’t know, he didn’t want to know, he was tired and just wanted it all to stop. He was tired of hurting all the time, it was clear he was hated so he should just do the right thing and end it.
@izzyfromdeadspace
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cloudiness · 2 years
Video
Here’s Carlos’s interview for Sky Italia right after the France GP 2022; you’ll find the translated transcript right under the cut.
Unfortunately I had to record this from my tv screen because I couldn’t find it anywhere else but I wanted to share it because Carlos is pretty happy and they also share some laughs..sorry for any mistake or typo, I was kinda in a rush and Davide Valsecchi speaks his own language which is impossible to translate..anyway, ENJOY! ✨🌶
( @whosays75 eccola qui, ho avuto qualche giorno di inferno ma alla fine ce l’ho fatta..qualità salutiamola ma dettagli)
(you can see I’ve put timestamps here and there just so that you can follow along if you need to)
Federica Masolini: Charles Leclerc..microphone…did I say Sainz? I said Sainz..?
Carlos Sainz: You said Leclerc
FM: Because I was reading the rankings, you’re fourth, one point over Russel, did you have water(during the race)? Was is difficult from a physical point of view?
00:18 
CS: I didn’t drink because we are a bit overweight and so I decided to not have the..
FM: Water bag (she said literally ‘canteen’ but we know it’s a bag)
CS: The water bag, because I don’t sweat that much so I’d rather be a tenth faster but it was really hot, especially in the beginning with the ‘hards’, the tyres were very hot, it was really difficult to overtake but then I changed them with the ‘mediums’ and from then on I was faster, I did some good overtaking, I even got to the first positions and then it happened whatever happened but I’m happy of my race.
FM: Could you recount your overtakes with us? Because Davide Valsecchi was particularly excited(while watching he race), I’d start from the one over Russel, with Davide, give us your comment on it.
00:59
Davide Valsecchi: Yes, take a look here because about the one with Russel we said there was pride, aggressiveness,  determination, around the outside at “Signes”, when you’re there the standard is to let the gas go but you pushed it, did it just feel right?
CS: Yes, here I followed his wake then I was beside him and I pushed him a little towards the right side to give him less corner so that I then was on the outside; it was difficult because it wasn’t clean, there was a lot of sand, but we did good, and here you’ll see that I star off good at turn 9 then follow the wake, battery, almost touching his rear tyre, here I pushed him towards the right side of the track to then have more corner and make it, in dire straits(referred to the gesture he makes with the hand under his chin) but I made it. 
DV: Bravo!
FM: How much does this kind of overtaking excites you during the race?
1:46 
CS: There’s adrenaline, there’s a lot of adrenaline, it’s amazing and it’s the reason why I love F1, this kind of moments, right? (These moments) That give you this happiness while driving, that knowing feeling that you’re doing something really dangerous, really extraordinary, that’s what I live for, no? That’s why I’m a driver.
FM: “Da WOW!”(literally ‘something that makes you say wow’) as Marc Genè(one of the commentators) would say, and then we have the one with Perez!
2:11 
CS: Da WOW *laughs*
DV: You didn’t make it around the outside there
CS: No
DV: I mean, you tried but they(Redbull) are faster than Mercedes and you had to give up, but I wonder, after, at this moment, where you are on the outside, he did a move on you, right? before the exit?
2:26 
CS: Yes, this overtake was really difficult because putting yourself in that position is already a hard thing to do but from here we then had like 7/8 turns were we were driving alongside..how do say it?
FM: Alongside
CS: Alongside each other, and you have to think that we were going 250 km/h, 7 turns at 250 Km/h are wonderful and to make them with Checo it’s always an honor because he’s a driver who always respects space and I always had him in my spot…where I couldn’t see him, how do you say it?
2:57 
FM: CIECO! (literally means “BLIND” and it’s pronounced just like ‘Checo’ in Spanish)
CS: Yes, PUNTO CIECO! (blindspot) 
FM: Precisely
*they all laugh because of the involuntary play on words*
CS: And here you see that I can’t do like I did with Russel because he(Perez) has much more speed but here I manage to keep him on the outside, he leaves me space, here we touch a bit and I attempt the overtake around the outside
DV: This idea of cutting the corners, I don���t know when it came to you, but this idea of cutting forced him to close(the trajectory) and made it so that you have inverted the trajectory 
CS: Yes here I keep inverting the trajectory to give me clean air and here he closes, we almost touch, I went on the right and then I threw the car towards the outside to then be on the inside here, it was really wonderful.
DV: Great move!
3:38 
FM: And you also had the strength to talk during this overtake, did you realize that?
CS: *Laughs* In that moment I was fighting for P3 so I told myself if I have to stop and lose 32 seconds it doesn’t matter if it’s now or the next lap so just let me finish this overtake…
FM: Let me have fun!
CS: I wanted to have fun but then they asked me to stop.
4:00
Carlo Vanzini: We also had a lot of fun watching you, I have a question, were you also thinking about the DRS? Because when you went on to the straight you had the DRS and you were just in the right spot to then attack him.
CS: Yes, I was.
CV: That was the real magic.
CS: Yes, I had to take everything into consideration because I knew that if I came first at the DRS line he was going to catch me on the straight. I did good, I wanted to be on the inside to overtake but not too forward so that I could have the DRS, it all worked perfectly and I did it.
CV: If I can ask another thing to Carlos, do you guys think you now have the best car overall?
CS: In quali yes, I think that we’ve proven it in many races that we can take the pole positions with this car, in the race it depends, it changes every race; we are now at the tenth one fighting with Redbull and in Austria for whatever reason we were faster and we had less tyre degradation, in the race before Charles and Max were almost equal, before that one they(Redbull) were faster, earlier we were faster…during the race it’s always pretty close but in the flying lap this car is really strong.
FM: Have you spoken with Charles yet?
CS: No, it’s really too bad for him but we all make mistakes, I made some at the beginning of the year and people were mean to me because they looked like stupid mistakes but, trust me, we’re driving these cars to the limit, right at the front, it’s not easy; we are pushing a lot and when I say a lot I mean A LOT, we are taking many risks and these things can happen, once or even twice a year, it might happen even to Max next in this season, and I completely understand how this kind of things can happen.
FM: Mattia told us “I’ll ask the boys to smile while looking at the data of this car, we have 10 more races to win and above all we have a 1-2 to make in Hungary”
CS: Yes, that would be amazing, it’s what we’re aiming for because we have the car, we just need to keep believing that it’s possible.
FM: Thank you
CS: Thank you
FM: Ciao Carlos, congrats! Grazie to Carlos Sainz, amazing race for him!
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shadowonwater · 2 years
Text
Viral Pokerus: Emmet (Elesa and Drayden too)
You'll want to read about this post first, it talks about the modern day in the Viral Pokerus au. Feel like that's important to read because this is the modern day.
So you know the drill, Ingo goes missing because he falls back in time. Emmet has no idea what happened to Ingo and is panicking about his missing brother. He's been working himself to the bone trying to manage Gear Station by himself, take care of all their Pokemon, while also searching for any information about where his brother is.
This is all gets too much to mange when his many Joltik have Pokerus spreading among them. This isn't the first time Emmet's hoard of Joltik get Pokerus, this is just a different hoard than last time. As always caring for a bunch of sick Pokemon at once and trying to stop your other Pokemon from getting sick is hard. Elesa convinces him to focus on his Pokemon and let the depot agents take care of the station and let her take care of searching for Ingo. He agrees to this until the little Pokerus outbreak is taken care of.
Let's say... a few days of taking care of them later... Emmet notices he's also coming down with something. The thought that he caught their Pokerus does appear in his mind, but not seriously because it's rare for humans to catch it, he thinks it's just a human cold he caught coincidentally. He decides to check anyway just to be sure.
Those he engage in breeding either as a job or hobby are expected to keep at least one Pokerus test on hand, because of the heightened risk of the job. The one he has, he bought a long time ago, and it's just been sitting around. He uses it, and it comes out positive. Emmet's starting to worry but he knows old tests don't always work right so he goes and buys a new one. It also comes out positive.
Emmet's freaking out. It's official, he's going to turn into a little electric spider! In other circumstances, Emmet wouldn't mind this, he loves the Joltik line after all, being one would be cool. However he's already dealing this so much shit as is, he really can't handle this right now too!
Emmet isn't a fan of hospitals so he decides he wants to change at home. He calls Elesa and tells her what's happening and that he needs her help to take care of his Pokemon... and also him. She's happy to help him but tells him he should also call his uncle Drayden as well, to help. Emmet doesn't want to bother his uncle and adoptive father (adoptive since Emmet and Ingo's parents died when they were 13). He's a gym leader and a mayor, he's a very busy guy, not too mention he was also helping look for Ingo.
Elesa tells him very bluntly that if Drayden finds out, he'd been extremally upset about not helping Emmet and would feel like he was letting both of his sons down, now. Emmet agrees to call him. Drayden says he'll be right over, and not to worry, "it shouldn't be that bad" Elesa and Drayden are both born Shifters, so there's no worry about them catching Pokerus.
So they both get to Emmet and Ingo's house. Now they are both putting off searching for Ingo for now. The first couple of days since they got there, Emmet's been fine. But everybody's waiting for the shoe to drop, and eventually it does. Emmet gets hit with a really bad fever, that signals the start of the transformation.
Drayden and Elesa work together to care for Emmet and Ingo's Pokemon as well as Emmet himself. Emmet is getting smaller as the days go by, as well as growing the yellow fuzz that Joltik's have. At some point in there he starts being able to do little Thunder Shocks and batteries start to look kinda tasty.
He eventually fully transforms into a Joltik, the worst of the illness is over, although he still has a bit of a cold. Drayden and Elesa advise him to wait a few more days to feel better before he tries to turn back into a human. But eventually he feels fine, and figures out how to turn back.
Afterwards the two continue to work with Emmet in his Joltik form to try to get him more comfortable with it. Like eating electricity, crawling around in small spaces, using moves, and eventually doing some battling himself. Emmet finds that he does indeed enjoy his Pokemon form. And he has a realization that despite being born human, he was already thinking of himself as also being a Pokemon, alongside being human.
Before Drayden was going to leave back to his city, the three of them receive word of Ingo. Professor Rowan calls them and tells them of his recently missing assistant, Lucas, and that his assistant's friends realized that Lucas went back in time. But more relevant to them, it appears the missing Subway Boss was in the same time period as Lucas.
When Lucas went missing the Hero of Hisui wasn't exactly Dawn and Barry's first thought. But the fact that the Hero was said to be a time traveler, it didn't take them long to consider it. With just a little bit of research, along with Cynthia's help, they realized that that was where he went.
But other than the Hero there were also a few other documents that mention another time traveler. With Cynthia's knowledge of strong battlers across the world, she realizes that the 2nd time traveler was Ingo, the missing Subway Boss.
Knowing that Ingo wound up in Hisui is pretty worrying, considering all the chaos that went down at that period. It may be another region but knowing about the event that created Shifters is basic knowledge.
It isn't hard for Emmet, Elesa, and Drayden to look up information from that time. They were even able to find a photo of all the wardens in their Pokemon forms. They recognize that hat and coat, and know that Ingo turned into a H. Sneasel.
Elesa makes a joke about the brothers continuing to match through time and space, considering they both became Shifters while they were separated.
Elesa also thinks it’s cool that Ingo is in the Pearl Clan. She is a H. Zoroark and has Pearl Clan heritage. It’s kind of exciting for her that Ingo might have been friends with one of her ancestors.
They worry about Ingo getting back to the correct time. The legends mention the time traveling Hero going back to his original time, but what about Ingo? There are some sources that mention, usually the ones that bring up the 2nd time traveler, that the Hero brought someone to the future with him.
They all really hope that that "someone" is Ingo. If not, Emmet is ready to become level 100 and use Thunder on Arceus's ass. (Don't worry the "someone" is Ingo)
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Note
63 + steddie for the writing prompts ✨🫶🏽💗
Oh the grotesquerie the two of you have wrought by submitting answers to this writing prompt, more at the borrom.
“You’ll be right here? In this spot? You listening to me, Harrington? Because if you get…distracted or wander off to chase co-eds around the old stomping grounds and I get back here to find my get away vehicle gone, my vengeance will be swift and terrible.” Eddie asks with a tremor in his hand on the handle that cranks the passenger window up and down in Steve’s old new truck. 
He kept trying to turn that tremor into a beat on the drive over, something fast and loose with two hands on the already cracked dash, but it’s like he can’t catch it all the way. Like it dies out before anything real can come of it. Eddie has a lot of half songs right now, things Steve hears him hum that never reach words. 
He’s only picked up the guitar when he’s alone, and Steve only knows that because he’s noticed how it’ll be left in new places when he comes to visit. 
Eddie doesn’t sound very swift or terrible but Steve, because he’s a good friend, doesn’t comment. 
He looks like he didn’t sleep a wink last night, but he was standing out by his mailbox even though Steve’s driven up to the porch to collect him eight out of ten times. He smelled like freshly mown grass from across the street when he’d climbed into Steve’s new old truck, which meant he’d probably been out there glaring into the middle distance for a hot minute.
The window’s as tightly shut as it can be, looking like the glass would pop out if you shoved it a bit too hard. But Eddie’s still refusing to let go of the handle, looking out of it like he’s standing in an open doorway.
Like he’s stranded, hanging out in the open air, and just waiting for someone to see him. 
Like if the handle didn’t stop where there was nowhere else to go he’d just keep cranking and cranking to have something to do with his nervous hands.
Eddie has asked him a similar question, given him a similar instructions on where to park his new old truck (the Beemer finally gave up the ghost at the end of April and Steve’s on his first monthly payment for the new truck that’s squashed him and Eddie up in the front seat with his cane jutting out of the back) in triplicate by now because it took a minute to get out here from the sticks. 
Steve has gained a new appreciation not just for Jonathan Byers’ piece of shit car, but also for how well-scheduled he had to have be to not end up late to school everyday like Steve would have most definitely been if he’d lived all the way out here. 
Steve gets to park in the handicapped spot in front of the administrative building because Wayne’s let him borrow the tag to hand from his rearview (Eddie had it in his pocket but shoved it in the glove-box like he didn’t want to remember that it was there) because Eddie may be up and about but he still can’t handle too many long distances after having his body cracked open and stapled back together after his insides got blended by bats.
Steve’s to keep the truck running the whole way (not just using the battery to tune into your God-awful radio stations, Eddie had said) in case an unaccounted for morning janitor or some kid who’s here to weasel some points into their finals tries to murder Eddie and they have to make a run for it.
In theory only teachers should be here, locked in their rooms with piles of papers to grade by the end of the week. Needless to say, Eddie Munson didn’t come back to school after Spring Break. He was in the hospital, recovering from wounds that he had apparently sustained battling the serial killer who’d used him as a scapegoat, but even when he could have come back he’d been politely told that maybe it would be a good idea to just sit the rest of the year out. They’d wave his fourth quarter grades and the finals, and just count his third quarter ones which had been frozen at barely passing. Mid-army crawl.
He hadn’t walked across the stage, but Eddie Munson was a high school graduate in the eye of the state. Wayne might not have gotten an invitation, and they might not have called his name at the ceremony, but they had his diploma. All he had to do was come and get it.
That’s what Miss Valentine the administrative assistant said when Wayne had called about all this, about the last thing he needs to hand over to the government to complete his leap into a new identity. 
The government’s promised remedial courses if Eddie’s not ready for college, or a new name in a town of their choice if he was tired of school, and all Eddie has to do is hand over every document that remained with his name on it. 
His driver’s license (which had been in his wallet in his pants pocket the whole time), a flyer touting him as the frontman for Corroded Coffin (which had been hidden away in his van), a fifth grade report card (all A’s, one of a kind, taped up in Wayne’s locker at the plant), and this diploma (which had to be retrieved by somebody in the family instead of a government weirdo whose presence would be scrutinized like nobody’s business).
Apparently everything else (participation certificates for talent shows, name tags from club fairs, and his social security card) had gone down with the ship and was smoldering in another dimension, which at least meant that wrapping up this disaster was easy for the shadow government. They got everything they wanted and the list wasn’t even too long.
All they wanted was for Eddie Munson to tie every tube of Hawkins's that ever fed him life or shit tight tight. They wanted him to make a clean break of it. 
To show how he took his licks and maybe committed murder in the public eye but was thoroughly cleared on paper if anybody came around asking. He just needed all of his documents, all traces of his life, burned so thoroughly that nobody could find him out when he leapt into the rushing rapids of the rest of the world. Never to be seen again.
Eddie’s not ready for leaping though, if you ask him (which Steve has with his heart in his throat) even though he wants it so bad he’s practically drooling. Even though he’s been penned up with his uncle in a rental house out near the old Byers place, near the woods where people have stopped going and started warning their kids away from.
The most social interaction he gets anymore is grocery drop-offs and getting shuttled to the appointments he couldn’t skip in preparing for a new life. Being checked out like Steve to make sure bat saliva didn’t carry mind-controlling parasites. Heading to a dentist out of town to get a cracked tooth from hitting pavement hard fixed on government money. Collecting the fragments of his existence. So far Steve’s volunteered to do the driving for a lot of these outings, like he’s trying to cash in as much time with Eddie as he possibly can.
Eddie hasn’t said when he’ll leave. He hardly talks about it at all, actually. It’s Wayne who tells Steve not yet in a voice that says he’s only telling Steve this because he dragged his nephew half-dead out of another dimension and that’s the only thing that could have him chip away at his nephew’s silence.
He’s still adjusting, Wayne says, and Steve doesn’t pry if it’s about the pain or the thought of what came next after you survived the end of the world. Either way Steve, with his headaches and the way he’d almost thrown up the first time he’d tried to fill out a college application, kinda got it.
But Eddie wants the diploma in his hand, and he wants it now, and he wants to get it on his own. It was a hassle just to convince him to let Steve drive instead of just hot-wiring the van himself because Wayne’s hidden the keys and now it’s a hassle with a set of very specific instructions. In triplicate, having turned off the radio in the middle of Peter Gabriel wanting to be your sledge-hammer just when Steve was starting to groove with it.
Steve is not to come into the school with Eddie (even though he argued this would ensure no murder attempts) because right now Eddie does this thing with his life where he designates parts of it as challenges to be overcome on his own two feet. Like some kind of alligator clamping its jaws shut on a carcass, the shit you’d need to pry loose and probably get holes in your arms for your troubles. Eddie’s determination was the shit that broke bones before he’d let go.
Steve is only to leave the car, run in and save the day if he hears the sounds of a scuffle that Eddie might not be winning. He isn’t to come in too early because Eddie’s pride is tender and honestly he’d love to win a fight right now.
Steve knows all this.
He’s nodded along twice before, played thoughtful driver, but now he’s starting to get pissed.
Because they’re parked, Steve’s got it, but Eddie’s still looking at Steve and talking at Steve in this way people do sometimes.
Like he’s a dog with something already in his mouth or seven years old and likely to forget that you can’t microwave a bag of popcorn for longer than four minutes or it’ll start to smoke. 
He’s only forgotten two bags of popcorn and almost started some fires, but he was seven the first time and coming down from a concussion the second so he wished Robin would stop telling people about it. 
And he has never put anything in his mouth that he didn’t fully intend to be there.
But still there’s that look, like Eddie thinks Steve’ll forget and wander off to skirt-chase when this clearly is a thing and Steve knows how Eddie can get about things.
“Dude, I’ve got it. No moving from this spot, no turning Gretchen off, no intervening unless your ass is sounding thoroughly stomped. You’re in, you’re out. Easy.” 
Steve pulls down his sun visor to check his hair, which he does to keep himself from saying something shitty. It’s a habit he developed a while back, like a smoker learning to quit. Something else to replace the physical sensation of his mouth opening and stupid shit pouring out. The relief, the dark burn of getting some of the attention off of him.
Instead he’s just got good hair.
He doesn’t know exactly what he’d say, maybe something about not having to be here because it’s true that he didn’t have to beg to swap shifts with Daisy the newly graduated hire and lose his unaffected sheen with the youths to shuttle Eddie to his crucible (Eddie’s word, Steve’s not entirely sure how Arthur Miller fits in here he didn’t read more than the first act of that shit), but he can tell it would be mean.
And sometimes Eddie wants him to be mean, to show up when he’s stuck on the couch and call him names until he’s up in Steve’s face. To snip at certain spots so he can snap back in a way that would make Henderson look wounded or Robin go white-lipped but Steve just gives as good as he gets.
But this isn’t one of those times. This is a time where Steve thinks that way way down, in spite of what he says, Eddie wants Steve to be here. That he wants Steve at his back, keeping the truck running, because maybe the reason he’s been repeating his instructions for the third time is he can’t make himself get out of the car.
“Gretchen’s awful,” Eddie says, finally tearing his gaze away from scanning the empty parking lot with a heavy certainty that somebody with a baseball bat or Molotov was going to pop up calling his name from behind a bush. Steve looks away from the mirror, leaving it down with the little light still glowing, to meet him halfway.
“Oh, come on. You’ve said that about all my name choices.”
“Yeah, because I have to save myself and the rest of our friends from associating with a guy who names his truck Stacy.” Eddie’s face has gone sour like he’s remembering a bad taste. It’s the exact same face he’d made when Steve watched him chug expired milk straight from the carton and the face he’d made when Steve had first introduced him and Gretchen (then Stacy).
“Okay, so maybe she’s not a Stacy–.”
“And she’s not a Lucy, a Diana, a Megan, a Lauren, a Frida, or a Whitney.” Eddie’s hands don’t tremble as he ticks the names off on his fingers, or as he sweeps his arms about like a king gesturing to a bounty of land. “Just look at her, Steve. Look at this truck and figure out a name that doesn’t come from the back of a Mattel box. She’s a woman, not a girl.”
Steve has, obviously, had this lecture before and is, honestly, more than a little offended. He always is.
“I still stand by Frida but any of those would be better than Moon Child or Eowyn, or any of your other weird ass selections and you know it.”
“Your uncultured ass would consider itself lucky to be ferried about by a shield-maiden of Rohan and you know it,” Eddie says tartly and Steve knows he’s being bated to ask what a shield-maiden is because yeah it does sound kind of hot, but instead of taking a bite Steve lets the silence stretch a bit like the languid pulling taffy. 
He watches Eddie deflate a little when the momentum suddenly goes flat.
“You know the longer we wait,” Steve finally says, “the more likely it is that somebody will show up.” He folds up the mirror without looking, exposing the whole of the almost empty parking lot like the sudden swell of being in the middle of the ocean.
Eddie turns back to the window like he doesn’t want to look at Steve, like he’s checking that it’s still just them and Miss Valentine’s station-wagon put in park (the other teacher cars loom from their respective parking lots).
It is, and Steve doesn’t think anybody else has much reason to be here.
“I know,” Eddie says like he’s looking away from a needle. Like he wishes he was already moving, already back in the car. Like he can already feel the jolt of each step to the double-doors.
A part of Steve wants to snidely goad Eddie with the promise of Dairy Queen from a town over (he’s already taken off work, might as well make a day of it) while another part wants to take his hand and let Eddie lean on him instead of the cane. That part wants to walk every step of the way with Eddie and feel the pads of his fingertips, to hold his hair back if he wanted and trace the nape of his neck. To bend his body down and let Eddie walk on his back, to make a kinder road the only way he could think of. To tell him you did so much good that you deserve more than a piece of paper.
But those two parts are eternally locked in a stalemate in Steve’s gut, so he just closes his mouth and sits there with Eddie. Lets Eddie look and look out the window for a while longer.
“Promise you’ll be here when I get out?” At this Eddie doesn’t look at him and Steve doesn’t blame the guy. His voice is small, like a hand hooking in the back of your shirt that begged you not to turn around as much as it said not to go. His face is hidden by the drape of his hair and Steve wants to part, to tuck the closest side behind Eddie’s ear, more than he’s wanted a lot of things.
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Steve says easily, keeping both hands on the wheel and not reaching out.
Eddie nods once. Twice. Three times. Triplicate. He takes a breath and holds the swell of it in his chest.
Then he flings his door open and reaches back for his cane.
He almost dings Steve in the forehead in his sudden haste to get out the door, to extricate the cane from the little space of the second row of seats that could really only fit one person comfortably and not lose momentum, before he starts walking.
But when he looks back, just before taking his first step, it isn’t much of an apology. It’s an acknowledgement, a thanks, and a tribute.
Then he starts walking, and the click of his cane and the scuff of his steps off the asphalt is like the laying of a bricks. The building of the road that would take him out of here.
Officially welcome to i love you you dope, my Julie & Julia style magnum opus fever dream that I've decided is great on Christmas break but will probably kill me by February.
I will be answering all of p0ck3tf0x's 100 Ways to Say I Love You prompts, one a day style, until they're done. Here's the prompt list:
And here's an A03 link to this fic and where you can also see the collection and follow one woman's descent into madness:
Get ready squad it's gonna be a hell of a ride.
@p0ck3tf0x I hope this is okay, your list is amazing!
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narrators-journal · 7 months
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mm, you can have some more freedom with this, yuma with either ryuji, yusuke, or ryoji. ur given kinks r 7, 11, and 13 (:
I! Don’t know if this quite counts as Voyeurism? Or semi-public sex? But I think it does at least VAGUELY. Sadly, I don’t have the mental energy tonight to go back and strengthen those vibes. Not my strongest, but I hope it’s fun nonetheless!
Kinktober prompt list: Here
Kinktober masterlist: Here
CW: Use of toys, they go out to a cafe, so I’m counting that as public, and the waitress is vaguely aware of their shit at least, so lil bit of voyuerism/exhibitionism too!
Yuma Fujioka had ended up with a hilarious contrast with his two partners. Where he was a confident, sexually creative, flirt, Ryuji Sakamoto and Yusuke Kitagawa were both far more skittish with trying more adventurous acts. So, when Yuma finally got the two to agree to a lewd outing, it already had him semi-hard. “Are you two sure you wanna try this? You remember the rules?” He asked, watching the artist and runner he proudly called his boyfriends. Both with pink dusting their cheeks as they straightened their clothes and shifted on their feet. “Yeah, I- um, just, yeah.” Ryuji assured, giving the shorter man a smile as Yusuke just nodded, fiddling with the buttons of his white shirt. “Though...i-if we aren’t into it?” He asked quietly as Yuma made sure each of their remotes had batteries in them. “You just have to say ‘red light’, real easy. If you do, I’ll stop and you can go to the bathroom to take the toy out, okay?” When the men nodded, he smiled. “Now! Let’s go get some lunch, hm?”
With that, the three set off for a fun, themed cafe to try. The color never left Ryuji nor Yusuke’s cheeks, in fact, only growing worse after Yuma stuck his hands into his coat’s pockets to flick the vibrators onto their lowest setting. Grinning and snickering when Yusuke froze and Ryuji yelped a bit. “Do you really need to turn them on while we’re walking?!” Ryuji hissed, his face as red as an apple, and his voice shakey with stifled mewls or moans. Which did little but encourage the tiger with a zip of pleasure through his blood. “Don’t worry, ‘yuji. I’ll keep them on the lowest settings. Promise.” he offered with his sweetest smile to cover up the lustful spark of mischief in him. Returning the embarrassed, conflicted glares with sugary innocence while his boyfriends looked between one another, then back at him before cracking. “Fine,” Yusuke sighed, “I suppose this is the point of this lewd game. Might as well play.” “Exactly! Now come on!” Was Yuma’s chirp, grabbing them both by the hand to pull them into the nearest cutesy, pink maid’s cafe. Not for any particular reason, as he fully intended to torment them more once they were sat at one of the tables.
After all, watching Yusuke squirm in his chair as the toy vibrated inside of him, the copper-haired tiger couldn’t help but turn the controls on the remote a setting higher. Watching as the dark-haired artist tried to keep his face from turning four different shades of red or noise from slipping out while Ryuji seemed to be praying to Philemon, Nyarlethotep, or even Yaldaeboth for the strength to not give himself away. “Are you two okay, so far?” Yuma hummed sweetly, getting glared at again by the pair from across the cafe’s table. “You’re the devil,” Yusuke whispered, hiding his face in his hands as he spoke, “I love you, Yuma, but he’s kinda right…You’re an effin’ succubus.” Ryuji agreed, a moan cracking his voice despite his best attempts. All the while, the redhead beamed proudly at them. Only responding to their humiliated anger with turning up Ryuji’s toy to draw out another moan from him to feed the personal fire of desire in his belly before the waitress came over to their table. “Hello! How may I be of service to you, today?” She chirped to the new customers, so Yuma hummed and looked over their menu as his dates did the same. Trying their best to not give away their lewd positions. However, a glance at them from across the table still showed them fighting down the pink hues on their cheeks, much to the thrill of the redhead. “Mmmm. I think I’ll have the pancakes. What about you two?” he asked, smiling at his companions as they faked pouring over the menu for a lengthy moment. Until, finally, Yusuke got up the courage to speak, “U-um...same as him.” clearing his throat after his voice cracked, Ryuji just muttering out, “Coffee, please.” All while the maid kept her smile, but did give the pair an odd look before she left to put their orders in.
With her gone, the red-haired boy smiled back at his boyfriends. Getting another small thrill out of watching them squirm in the cafe chairs in awkward silence. The silence not helped when Yuma briefly turned the toys inside them up to the highest speed, earning hisses and gasps from them before he returned the vibrators to the lowest setting to keep them from orgasming so soon. “Yuma Fujioka.” Yusuke hissed, his face as red as a ripe strawberry as his light grey eyes narrowed at the redhead, “You are going to make me...y’know.” “I’m gonna what?” The man prompted coyly, smirking at the artist as he watched him try to find a covert way to word his impending orgasm. An attempt he failed at, judging from his defeated and annoyed huff before turning his attention to twisting up and ripping apart a napkin. “Don’t you think this is a little too risky? You’re gonna get us caught.” Ryui warned, the shake of his voice making the tiger chuff. “You won’t get caught, no one can hear the toys. Besides, it’s not fun if it’s not a challenge~” Yuma reminded, admittedly just to be a little extra evil on top of turning the toys up another setting until the waitress returned with their orders.
However, while Yuma’s pancakes were perfectly fine, with the average amount of whipped cream and syrup, and Ryuji’s coffee seemed untouched by the curse of cutesy clumsiness, Yusuke’s order was little more than a mountain of sugary cream and thick syrup that had the waitress scuffing her foot shamefully into the tile floor. “I...am sorry sir. I suppose I messed up your order a bit. Please don’t be mad.” The woman said, Yuma watching as the artist debated what to do. To ask for it to be fixed, or to tolerate the mistake was a hard decision to make while Yuma was slowly increasing the speed of his toy more and more. “U-um…” Yusuke squeaked out, turning redder as he pushed himself to continue through the shake of his words, “It’s fine.” He decided, Ryuji focusing on his coffee as the artist panted, trying to keep his composure the more Yuma messed with his remote to alternate the speed of the vibrator ruthlessly feeding the lust Yuma could see in the artist’s eyes.
However, his feeble attempts to hide his crumbling composure didn’t seem to entirely fool the suspicious waitress. “Are you sure, sir? I can fix it if you’d prefer.” “Y-yes.” He tried in a steadier voice, digging out a pancake to cut a bite free and show her he was, in fact, willing to eat the sugary mess of a breakfast dish. So, with no further reason to question him, she left again to tend to her other tables. Leaving Yuma to turn his emerald eyes to Ryuji.
The athletic blonde had been left well enough alone for a while now, keeping his complaints to himself and keeping his mind on other things to suppress the lewd noises threatening to come out with each movement or shift. But it would be unfair of the tiger to ignore one of his partners for the other. So, with his hands still in his pockets, he increased the speed of Ryuji’s toy just slightly to watch him jolt and wriggle in his chair. “Remember, don’t cum in public. That’d be humiliating.” The tiger reminded quietly, finally turning the toys completely off again so he could eat without the temptation and his partners could get control of themselves before the waitress called the authorities. “Honestly, I’ve got to commend you two for lasting this long. Kinda expected you two to cum by now.” He hummed, eating his pancakes as Yusuke scraped the whipped cream off of his. “I’ll be happier to hear that when you aren’t tormenting us.” Ryuji huffed, making the redhead giggle evilly. “You agreed to it, you can’t blame me for enjoying it.” He argued, making both of his boyfriends roll their eyes. Yet, Yusuke had gotten enough attention, so he kept his complaints to himself. The thriving copper-haired persona user leaning forward with another coy smirk, “Besides, admit it. You two are enjoying my ‘torment’. Otherwise, you’d use the safeword already~”
That point got the pair to bashfully avoid his eyes, Ryuji muttering into his coffee cup while Yusuke just jabbed at the syrup-soaked mush of pancakes on his plate, making Yuma chuckle. But, taking a bit of mercy on the pair, he left his teasing there for the time being. Letting them eat and recollect themselves with only the odd buzz from the toys to keep himself, and them, at least slightly riled up as they enjoyed their outing. Always making sure that, despite the constant simmer of lust, their climaxes were kept away. Until they got home, at least.
I’m never gonna be able to do this again.
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kawaii-octoalt · 1 year
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Oh golly here we go again with my cringe writing skills
Nitty-gritty W/ an insomniac!reader
Note: I'll be talking about the CANON version of Nitty-gritty. If you are confused, visit sock.clip's instagram page for more information. But for now, this is all you need to know about canon!Nitty-gritty:
-he's 22 years old, 6'0 ft.
-he is the older brother of Julian.
(Again, if you are confused, visit sock.clip's instagram page, it will all make sense.)
(If you don't want to see my cringe writing skills, then Don't bother, but if you got the guts, I'm impressed, so enjoy.)
___________________________________________
You HAD to get this thing done. No matter how many cups of caffeine or energy drinks, you had to get it done. It's 3 a.m, you were laser focused on your project or whatever you were working on. Before you could start on the next paragraph, you were halted by something tightly grasping your shoulder; you heard a raspy masculine voice coming from right behind you.
"Pullin' anotha all-nighter, are we?"
You turn your head slowly in fear, it was Nitty-gritty. He's gotten used to you doing these things at this point, but thinks that the all-nighters you keep pulling on are getting dangerous, and they are for your health.
"Listen, I know ya wanna keep goin' on dis project, but ya gotta sleep. Dis is gettin' dangerous. Not just for you, but for ya own health."
You tell him that you're fine, that you don't need sleep. He gives you a stern look and closes your laptop. Thankfully, your progress was automatically saved.
"C'mon. Yeah ya do. Ya don't get enough sleep, probably gonna end up in th' hospital or somethin' worse."
Despite how much you wanted to continue, he was right. Sleep is important after all. You reach your hands out and ask for your laptop back, nitty holds it a bit higher above your head.
"Nnnnnope. 'S already on 20% battery. You can get it back in th' mornin', but for now, ya need sleep, and lots of it, too."
You cross your arms and pout. But you know very well it's not going to work on him.
"Ah, c'mon. Don't give me Dat look. Y'know I'm right. Ya need sleep."
You turn your head to the side, he knows if he can't convince you, he'll have to do it with FORCE, he does hate doing that with you, but it seems he doesn't have a choice.
*sigh* " 'Kay. Y'asked for it. C'mere."
You quickly turn your head back to see that he grasped your arm, he pulls you closer, wrapping his arm around your torso, lifting you up to his waist, your laptop is in his other hand, he escorts you to his bedroom. You start struggling against his hold, despite how tight he was gripping onto you. You tried to push yourself free, begging him to let go.
"Nope. Dis is what happens when ya force me t' use force. Ya gonna sleep, wether ya like it or not."
He opens the bedroom door, plugging in your laptop to the charger on the desk. He then gets a soft, puffy blanket out of his wardrobe a lays it on the bed. He finally released you only to place you in the middle of the blanket, he swaddles you into a blanket cocoon, too tight for you to struggle out of. He turns off the light and climbs into bed, pulling you into his arms while doing so. Tucking you in, snuggling you. He whispered into your ear, giving you a chill down your spine.
"You'll thank me later."
It was creepy to say the least, usually you would bunk with his younger brother, Julian. Julie loved to cuddle with you. It would knock him out very easily, too. But now? You're stuck with his intimidating older brother that he cares for. It felt nice, sure. Considering how warm he was, but you had to escape and continue your work. You start struggling as hard as you can. Nitty subconsciously grips you tighter and begins caressing circles onto your back, stopping you. You felt your eyelids getting heavier, you think about what Nitty had said earlier, pulling too many all-nighters is dangerous for you and your body. For once, you understand what he told you and dose off. Snuggling deeper into his hold. Nitty squints his eye open to see you sound asleep. He lets out a small smile and plants a small kiss onto your forehead and falls asleep again.
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Moral of the story: do not pull all nighters and get some sleep.
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helvelloides · 1 year
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NANOWRIMO CHECK IN - DAY 6
What I’m working on: The Adventures of Plum & Cat
Goal WC: 50,000
Current WC: 22,934
Hello, hello! I return with yet another update, one day closer to the halfway point of my goal wc. I’m very excited to say that I will pretty much definitely be hitting 25k tomorrow, meaning I’ll be halfway to 50k only 7 chapters into my wip. Of course, not all of it is actually stuff that’s even going into the finished first draft, as I am also counting stuff from scrapped chapters. Like the first version of chapter 6, or the original chapter 7.
Speaking of, I made an executive decision to go off my outline a bit and remove my original chapter 7 completely from the story. As, while writing it I just didn’t feel like it really served any purpose, and worked just as well as an ending to chapter 6 as it would’ve its own chapter. So now I’m finally getting to the real meat of my story, where we learn about magic! Very exciting if you ignore the fact that I have little clue on how this world’s magic system works.
Still, there’s always more work to be done, and so little time to do the work. So, until tomorrow, I shall get my sleep so that I can return on with a fresh set of eyes.
(Excerpt under the cut...)
The effect of her thoughts grew a little weaker when the flashlight began to flicker.
Faintly, she could hear her brother grumbling as he whacked the flashlight against his palm. She, however, was a little distracted by something else.
She hadn’t seen it before the flashlight, and couldn’t see it while the flashlight was shining forwards, but with the flashlight turned away from her she could see it now, perfectly clear. The two glowing dots off in the distance. Staring right back at her.
It was then, with perfect clarity, that she remembered what Aunt Rue had made them promise. She had said to never go into the woods, no matter what. 
Now she wished she had asked a few more questions, pushed a bit more as to why the woods were so off limits. As it was, though, all she could do was reach back and call for her brother, never once taking her eyes off the thing in front of her.
“Cat?” She loudly whispered, repeating herself when the first time didn’t get his attention.
“Sorry, this stupid thing just died for some reason. Should’ve brought extra batteries-” She cut off his words with a hush. “-What’s up with you? You’re not usually scared of the dark.”
She tried to hit him without looking back, desperate to get him to just shut up and listen. “Cat, I need you to be quiet and do something for me.”
She heard him sigh, and could practically see the way he probably rolled his eyes. “Alright, fine. What do you want me to do, weirdo?”
“When I say go,” She began. Already taking a few careful steps back, till she could grab his arm. “I need you to start running in the opposite direction.”
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blackhakumen · 2 years
Text
Mini Fanfic #983: Mother's Day Gift Shopping (Sonic x SSBU)
2:12 p.m. at the Smash Direct Mall's Clothes and Jewelry Store.....
Shadow: Hmm....(Crosses his Arns Obverses the Different Styled Purses in Front of Him) They look unique enough.....but which one mother would be attached to the most?.....(Starts Noticing a Pink Cheetah like Purse Hanging in top of the Regular Colored One) Well, pink is her favorite color surprise surprise. (Takes the Pink Purse From the Hook) I'm sure she'll find this pretty at least. (Turns to Omega) How are you holding up there, Omega?
Omega: ....... (Looking Closely Down at the Diamond Crested Jewelry Inside the Glass Box) Still looking....
Shadow: (Makes his Way to the Glass Box Before Looking Down at the Jewelry in there As Well) Can't decide which one you wanna give her?
Omega: Affirmative. Each jewelry product present here are shiny and very pleasing to the eyes. (Turbs to Shadow Next to Him) Do you think Rouge would be interested in a new pair earrings or a necklace?
Shadow: I say you go her the necklace. She already has enough earrings back at the island (Points at the Silver Necklace at the Near Left) You should get the one with the aquamarine diamond. Since her birthday's in March, that mean It would be her birthstone.
Omega: Is it now? (Looks Closely at the Necklace in Question While Rubbing his Chin) It's design does look fairly promising......(Turns Back to Shadow) Will it stop her from hugging the Master Emerald for hours on end?
Shadow: (Shrugs) I doubt it, but I still rather you give her that than trying to get her heels from that shoe store.
The duo turns to the shoe store in front of them to witness an all-out brawl from inside and a lady suddenly getting slammed into the glass window with a loud bang, before slowly sliding down to the floor. That alone was enough for the Ultimate Lifeform to shiver a bit in fear.
Omega: (Crosses his Arms With an Unamuzed Look on his Face) Really? This is the place you're afraid to go to?
Shadow: I saw woman tried to break someone's leg with an elbow in there once. I am NOT taking any chances.
Omega: I would.
Shadow: (Raises an Eyebrow) Do you really want to risk having both your arms and legs disattached and demolished?
Omega: ('Sighs in Defeat') Noooooo.....
Shadow: Wise answer.
A Few Minutes Later......
Shadow: (Walking Alongside with Omega With a Few Shopping Bags in his Hands) So how are you like having Rouge as your mother so far, Omega?
Omega: (Smiles Softly) I am liking it very well. She is the best parental figure that Icould ever ask for. Which reminds me....(Turns to Shadow) Can I borrow your phone for a second?
Meanwhile at Angel Island's Living Room......
TV Screen: I got off the plane. ('Audience Applauding and Cheering')
Knuckles: (Raises an Eyebrow in Confusion While Sitting Next to Rouge on the Sofa) How the Hell was she able to do that in time?
Rouge: (Shrugs While Having her Legs Laying Down on Knuckles' Laps) No clue. But at least she gets to be together with him again.
Knuckles: Yep. (Turns to Rouge) You think their relationship will last this time?
Rouge: (Starts Shaking her Hand With Uncertainty) Ehhh....I'll give it a month or two for them to call it off.
Knuckles: My money's on three weeks tops.
'Ringtone'
Rouge: (Picks Her Phone Up From the Coffee Table and Answers it) Hellooo?~ Rouge's speaking?
Omega: (From the Other Line) I love and appericate you.
'Call Ended'
Rouge: (Heart Begins to Melt in Pure Happiness as Hugs her Phone Close to her Heart)
Knuckles: Was that Onega just now?
Rouge: (Happily Nodded) Mmhmm~ He says he loves and appericate me. (Eyes Begins to Tear Up in Joy) ('Sniff') My baby loves and appericates MEEEEEE!~ (Immediately Hug Tackles Knuckles on the Edge of the Sofa, Much to his Surprise)
Back at the Mall......
Omega: Do you think she got the message?
Shadow: I believe so. It's miracle we were able to call her in time before the battery died out.
Omega: I apologize in advance.
Shadow: (Smiles Softly at Omega) Don't be. You wanted to tell her how you feel and did so in time. There was nothing to it than that really.
Omega: Yes. (Turns to Shadow) But didn't you want to do the same for your own mother as well?
Shadow: (Shrugs) I've already told her I love her this morning, so I could always do it again later. (Grabs his Chin While Thinking ) That being said, do you think we should go by the groccery store to find eligible Mother's Day cards for them or try making two of our own?
Omega: (Raises his Hand) I vote that we make them by hand. The outcome will more rewarding if we put our crafting abilities to good use. I also vote that we should buy ourselves glue and three sets of glitter make each card look more presentable as possible
Shadow: ('Sigh') Alright. But try not to make a huge mess once we get back. The last thing I want is my eardrums to be disrupted by Knuckles' yelling.....Also, are you still any good with poems?
Omega: (Places his Hand on his Chest) Thou's abilities on poetry and literature are unrivaled to tis very, blissful day in age.
Shadow: (Rolls his Eyes) Never took you as a show off....
Omega: Poetry is one of my proudest assets.(Crosses his Arms While Looking Away in a Pompus like Manner) You should think twice before questioning my skills and progess, Momma's Boy. (Walks Away)
Shadow: ('Groans in a Bit of Annoyance') I knew let you join those Poerty Classes was a mistake.....(Follows Omega)
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casspurrjoybell-25 · 9 months
Text
ON A NIGHT LIKE THIS - Chapter 2
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*Warning Adult Content*
- Jayce -
The next day, he got up to the pass.
It was almost four miles up, which wasn't far for the average hiker, but it took him half the day.
This part of the trail had a lot more elevation gain than the section from the trailhead to the lake.
With the extra weight he was carrying, he had to stop often and take breaks.
He saw a handful of other hikers on the trail, all of whom passed him.
The scenery was incredible and unlike anything he'd ever seen before.
Closer to the top, the trail wound through yellow larch trees and around bushes whose leaves were turning red and purple.
His cell phone was almost out of battery but he took a few pictures of the autumn colors and the mountain peaks surrounding him.
His thighs and calves were burning from the effort by the time he reached the pass.
He took off his pack and sat on a rock to admire the view and eat a snack.
He could see the lake far below him and he felt proud knowing he had come all the way up from there.
At least this was something he could do, even if nothing else was going right in his life.
When he put his pack back on, his muscles protested.
He decided that he wouldn't go too much further today.
He'd focus on finding a good campsite instead.
He continued on the trail, which stayed up on the ridge and wound its way around the rocky landscape.
The trail was narrow in some places, with a long drop off to the side.
He tried not to look at how far down it went and he felt better when the trail eventually began descending toward the trees again. 
At a wide, flat area, he came upon a few spots near the trail that looked like they had been used for camping.
They were good spots but they were in view of the trail.
He didn't want to hear people walking by his campsite all night.
It wouldn't hurt to go a little further into the trees to see if he could find a more secluded spot.
He stepped off the trail and began making his way through the trees.
He slept longer than he intended to.
When he woke up and stretched, every muscle in his body felt stiff and sore.
He ate two Cliff bars for breakfast before getting up and slowly packing up his tent.
As he shouldered his pack, he looked around to see which way he'd come.
He studied the trees and rocky ground carefully but it all looked the same.
Panic began to grip him as he realized he didn't know the way back to the trail.
He should have thought to mark the way or he should have brought something to keep his cell phone charged so he could look at a map.
He closed his eyes and tried to think.
Maybe he should start walking in one direction and if he didn't find the trail in a few minutes, he'd turn around, come back to this spot and try again.
He walked through the trees, trying to steady his breathing.
The last thing he wanted was to get lost out here but his heart began to thump in his chest as the minutes passed.
He still hadn't found the trail.
He fought the urge to start running and wondered if this was the point when he should turn around and make his way back to his campsite.
Just when he was about to give up and go back, he spotted something a few feet ahead of him.
It was a worn spot on the ground, the trail.
He hurried over and began to follow it, thankful he had found it.
He decided right then that he was going to stick to the trail going forward, even if it meant camping next to it.
He smiled as he walked, already feeling better as he admired the deep gold needles of the larch trees.
Fall was about to give way to winter and he was glad he'd still been able to see some color in the forest.
But after about a half hour of walking, he began to get a strange feeling.
He was having to go down some steep granite sections and the trail seemed like it was getting more faint in places.
He didn't remember the trail being like this.
Except for the rocky sections on the ridge, the rest of the trail had been wide, with the path worn into the dirt and there was no mistaking it was the trail.
With a sinking feeling, he noted that this trail looked barely used.
Was there more than one trail?
Was he on the wrong one?
He spun around, looking wildly at the forest.
The trees were more dense here and not much light was coming through.
Even so, there wasn't much light coming from the sky at all.
It looked cloudy and grey.
His dread increased when he realized he hadn't checked the weather before he'd set out on this trip.
Now it looked like it was going to rain but in the mountains in October, that might mean snow.
How could he have been so stupid?
Of course he should have checked the weather.
He also should have never left the trail because now he was definitely lost.
He sat down right in the middle of the faint trail and buried his head in his hands.
This was turning into a disaster, just like the rest of his life.
He wanted to curl into a ball and cry but he knew that wouldn't help.
He needed to get back up and make a plan.
At least he was on some kind of trail and it had to lead somewhere, right?
He would just stay on it until it led back to the real trail or back to a road.
It wasn't much later when snow started to fall.
He got out the pair of gloves he'd bought, wishing they were thicker.
He hadn't bought a hat and his ears were beginning to get cold.
The temperature seemed to be dropping.
He didn't know if he should keep walking or set up his tent and wait out the snow.
For the next fifteen minutes he continued on, but he felt fear creeping in.
The snow was starting to accumulate on the ground.
It was a thin layer but it was making the faint trail harder to see.
There was no point in continuing if he was going to get even more lost.
Frustrated, he dropped his pack on the ground.
After taking a few shuddering breaths, he cleared a space on the ground beneath a few trees and began setting up his tent.
This time, he put the rain cover on so the snow wouldn't melt through the mesh on the tent.
Then he crawled in and got in his sleeping bag, hoping he could go to sleep and everything would be okay again when he woke up.
An hour later, he hadn't been able to fall asleep. He was so cold he was shivering violently.
The gear he'd bought clearly wasn't warm enough for winter.
That was probably what all the information in the store was for but it had seemed too overwhelming so he'd ignored it.
He regretted that now, just like how he regretted not buying a hat or thicker gloves or warmer clothes. His biggest regret was coming on this trip at all.
Why did he think he could go on a backpacking trip in the northernmost mountains when he had only hiked once in his life?
He didn't know anything about this and now it was probably going to get him killed.
Even with everything going wrong in his life, he didn't want to die.
He tried to burrow deeper into his sleeping bag.
At this point, he couldn't move his fingers anymore or feel his toes.
His face was numb and the cold seemed to set deep into his bones. He started to second guess everything.
Maybe he should have kept walking in order to generate heat, even if he didn't know where he was going.
But either way, it was probably hopeless.
Tears formed in his eyes and he squeezed them shut.
He was so tired now.
He was ready to give up and accept that he would die out here but then he heard a man's voice, seemingly out of nowhere.
"Hello? Is anyone in there?"
Was he hallucinating?
Or was there really another person out there?
"Y-yes," he stuttered.
He was so cold he was barely able to move his tongue and jaw.
He wanted to see this person and ask where the trail was, but he was struggling to sit up.
"Help," he called, his voice strained in the cold.
He heard the tent being unzipped, and then a large, bearded man stuck his head in.
"What are you doing all the way out here?" the man asked.
His voice was deep and gruff.
"Lost," he whispered hoarsely.
The man leaned in and looked closely at his face.
The man's eyebrows were furrowed and he seemed annoyed, angry even.
Suddenly, Jayce felt afraid.
If this man wanted to hurt him, he wasn't going to be able to defend himself.
The man reached into the tent, as if to grab him.
"No," he protested weakly, trying to roll away.
Before he could say another word, the man hauled him out of the tent, sliding him and his sleeping bag along the tent floor and through the opening.
He barely noticed the cold as the man unzipped the sleeping bag.
"Can you walk?" the man asked.In his frozen stupor, all he could think about was getting away from this new threat.
He rolled over, facedown in the snow.
As he tried to push himself up from the ground, his arms refused to work.
He gave up and fell back to the ground.
The man gathered his sleeping bag and put it in the tent.
He zipped it up, leaving all of Jayce's stuff inside.
Jayce didn't have the strength to resist anymore when the man picked him up and placed him across his shoulders in a fireman's carry.
Whatever was going to happen to him now, he was powerless to stop it.
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