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divinerulerluvr · 3 years

Text

Enjoy the Silence

Warren Lipka visits you at work and wants to have some fun.

Request - i just read ur NSFW for warren and holy ff I would love if u wrote one about public sex with him? Maybe in the back room at work or wherever and playing onto his kink for yelling out his name

Warnings - public sex, risky sex, unprotected sex, kinda kinky idk what else to advise here its smut.

Words - 1.3k

Pairing - Warren Lipka x fem!reader

A/N - This got really dirty really quickly. This is also a combination with another request with the same premise. Also, I said i'd be posting this on Sunday but changed my mind :)

- - -

It was getting closer and closer to your lunch break during work and you were itching to have a rest from the bitchy customers that come in and out of the store.

You finish checking out one woman and take the few minutes that nobody came to your register to go on your phone. You hear someone walk up and look up to see who it was. You’re met with Warren who holds a box of something in his hand.

A smile spreads on your face as you see him. Setting down your phone, you see what he had placed on the conveyor belt. “XL condoms?” you say, grabbing the box and holding it up.

He just smiles, a sort of boyish charm to the smile. “We both know you don’t need XL, Warren,” you comment, wiping the smile straight off of his lips. “Hey,” he says, his voice feigning offense. You just smile, biting your lower lip.

“Is it almost your break?” he asks you, his eyes scanning the area around him. “Yeah. About ten more minutes,” you answer, making sure nobody needs to check out. Warren groans, throwing his head back in dramatic exasperation.

“Can’t wait? Am I that addictive?” you play around. He chuckles, nodding at your words. “I can’t get enough. Can you blame me?” he replies, walking around so he’s standing beside you behind the register.

He rests his head on your shoulder, his hands wrapping around your torso and sliding down your body. “Warren, I swear…” you warn shakily, your words not holding up very well as you melt into his touch, his chest flush to your back.

“Is your boss even here today?” he whispers, his lips dancing over your ear teasingly. You shake your head, your teeth digging into your lower lip as his hand plays with the waistband of your pants.

“Let's just sneak away. Five minutes,” he says, pressing soft kisses to your cheek. You sigh, your eyes closing as you try to find the courage to say no to the forever horny man.

“Fine. Five minutes,” you concede.

He smiles, his hands retreating from your hips and grabbing your hand to lead you into the storage room that he could locate with his eyes closed. He pushes open the door and before they could even close, his lips are on yours.

Your hand rests on the side of his head, lacing in his hair as he backs you into a storage rack. A few boxes tumble over and fall onto the ground, making you chuckle.

Pushed up against the storage rack, you pull one of your legs up and use it to keep him close to you. You could feel his already hard dick pushing into your leg, your own arousal growing as the two of you kiss sloppily.

His hand slides in between yours and his body, sliding under your shirt to pull your pants down. He leaves them bunched at your ankles, your panties following suit.

“Quickly,” you whisper into his lips, needing to stay quiet. He just hums in response, not even breaking the kiss as he pulls his pants down. His fingers slide through your pussy, chuckling softly as he feels your body jump against his from the touch.

Your arousal wets his fingers, letting him know you were more than ready. Keeping you pinned against the wall with his hips. He kisses you deeply as he pushes into you, using his lips to muffle any moans or whimpers.

You push your hips against his, letting his dick hit even deeper. Your fingers thread through his hair, finding it increasingly difficult to kiss him back normally. His lips pull from yours, his eyes meeting yours as he pulls his hips back and starts thrusting into you.

Almost immediately, your mouth falls open in a silent moan. Warren smirks, the storage rack behind you rattling loudly as boxes shake and fall. He moves his hips a certain way and it pulls a moan from your lips.

Warren almost immediately slaps his hand over your mouth to silence you. “You gotta be quiet for me, ‘kay?” he whispers, weed on his breath. You nod, your brows furrowed as he fucks you even harder than before.

With one hand holding the storage rack still and the other over your mouth, Warren’s head falls into the curve of your neck.

Your breathing heavy, you keep your body pressed firmly against him for stability. The rack behind you was flimsy and you couldn’t trust it. His own breathing fans your neck and shoulder, you could feel that he was getting close.

You were too, becoming stimulated way quicker than usual. Maybe it was the risk of being caught or maybe you were just especially horny.

The both of you were insanely close when the door to the storage room opens. Warren immediately stops his thrusting, his hand still clamped over your mouth. His eyes meet yours as you both hear the steps walk around the room and cease.

You thank Warren in your head for deciding to fuck you in the back row behind a rack of particularly big boxes so you couldn’t see through the cracks.

The person doesn’t leave but Warren starts slowly thrusting into you again. You glare at him but he just grins. He keeps his thrusts slow so the rack doesn’t start clanging again. The steps go towards the door and opens it before hearing it shut.

Warren peers over the edge of the rack, making sure the room was clear before picking his pace up again.

Even with his hand on your mouth, your moans still somehow echo in the empty room. He pulls his hand from your mouth and instead pushes his two fingers into your mouth, wanting you to suck on them.

You gladly do, your eyes meeting his as your lips wrap around his fingers and you hollow out your cheeks. He groans quietly, lust filling his dark eyes as he watches you.

Your eyes flutter shut, the pleasure becoming overwhelming. Your nails dig into his back through his shirt, his hand gripping the rack behind you as it starts to rattle loudly. Another box falls down, causing him to laugh shortly.

It didn’t take long for your orgasm to come crashing over you.

Finding yourself relying on Warren to stay upright. You also rely on his fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet. He cums soon after, the feeling of him filling you up breaking you out of your post-orgasm trance.

His thrusts slow, your legs feeling like jelly under you. He pulls out of you, his cum dripping down your inner thigh. His eyes land on the scene between your legs, a proud smile on his lips as he sees what he caused.

Pulling his pants up, he kisses you deeply. “You should get back,” he comments, fixing your hair. You smile, your knees practically wobbling.

“And don’t clean yourself up. I expect my mark on you to stay on your skin until you get home,” he says, zipping his zipper up and doing the button. You groan, pulling your pants up and immediately realizing how uncomfortable this would be.

“Get to work,” he instructs. You roll your eyes sarcastically, walking out of the storage room to get back to work with his cum still coating your inner thigh.

#evan peters #american animals #warren lipka #ahs #smut #request #warren lipka x reader #fic #kit walker #tate langdon #kai anderson

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the-slasher-files · 3 years

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Slashers React - S/O being a witch or wiccan

INCLUDES JASON, MICHAEL, BO, BILLY & STU and LOST BOYS

btw I am a wiccan myself so I hope you enjoy the hcs :)

JASON VOORHEES

Holy fucking shit, you guys are a POWER COUPLE, never in my life have a thought of a better couple

He may not understand at first but once you explain it to him he adores it. Abiding by the laws of nature is something he already does, so the fact that you do too and share a lot of the same opinions of nature, melts his heart

Clearing a little area in the forest making sure it is hidden away for your alter is a dream job for him

Nature walks all the time but it has more meaning now, knowing you’re a wiccan or witch

Herb, flower, mushroom or plant picking is something he will always do for you, leaving them at your alter

LOOK he found a cool rock or a weird piece of drift wood or animal skull, perfect for you :)

Finds it very sexy when you are doing witchcraft, especially if it’s in the forest

You would slow dance to the rain and light candles everywhere

Gardening would quickly turn into one of his favorite hobbies with you

Teaching him about the holidays you celebrate gives him reasons to spoil you on those days, he would bake with you, make potions with you, bring in your moon water in the early morning for you

Your crystals are his favorites, all the pretty colors and unique patterns, he might steal one and carry it around with him, rubbing it when he misses you

Anything you do to appreciate his land and the cabin you share makes his undead heart flutter

The absolute best partner for a witch or wiccan

The crystal that suits him is an Amethyst - It is a grounding stone, bringing peace and calmness but is one of the best protection stones

MICHAEL MYERS

Major head tilt, squints

Once you explain it him he still doesn’t get it, and he doesn’t care

He will just examine your stuff, poking it and moving it around pissing you off

oh great, more holidays to celebrate

Secretly thinks it is kind of cool, but he will never tell you

Maybe thinks you’re a little crazy because he heard some other person in the mental hospital going on and on like you do

If you tell him he is blessed and has gifts he will have a hard time accepting that, but he would think about it forever because there had to be an explanation for how he could never die

He will bring you home something from a cemetery probably because he still doesn’t get it

He will just stare from the shadows of a candle lit room watching you do spell work

When he's pissed beyond reason, never sage him, never place crystals on him, never get him to drink tea, you might die

He will find a crystal in his coverall pockets for protection and he will never give it back to you, it’s his now and he will cherish it

The crystal that suits him is Black Obsidian - It is a pure black stone that has a mysterious aura, heavily used for protection, it is also a very powerful stone, good for healing and truth seeking

BO SINCLAIR

Again, another bad partner for this lol

You’re a what?? He has heard of witches before but never wiccans. Coming from Louisiana it has a very heavy history on witches and voodoo, good and bad. He honestly might be shitting his pants inside but keeps it cool, just please tell him you’re a good witch. His momma always told him to never ever mess with witches.

Thinks you’re crazy for believing in that stuff

If you feel the presence of his mom and dad, never bring it up to him, the only way you could do it is say “You’ve got some angels looking over you Bo” and leave it at that

You will make him learn to appreciate nature and taking him for walks is the best thing to do, it calms him and you can teach or tell him stories about what you believe in

He would tell Lester to grab some antlers or skulls for your “ummm idk what she does, she just needs them”

If you’re in some lingerie while doing witchy work, he will ease into it more

Bo would be the guy who yells about the sage smoke stinking up the house, while he is smoking a cigarette, b a s t a r d

Jokes about his bad energy filling your alter will happen a lot

He honestly thinks its cool though, after a while, seeing a beautiful powerful soul doing something you love warms his heart

He’s going to try to understand but he will laugh and make fun

If there are people in town he’s going to hunt that night, he will have to deal with you placing some sort of protection rune, stone or necklace either in his pocket or around his neck, Bo won’t like it at first but showing you care so much for him melts his heart and he will protect it with his life

His crystal is Smokey Quartz - It is used for strength and fortifies nerves, protection, a stone that represents Pride, but also brings calmness which we all know he needs!! The smokiness of it just reminds me of the colour of alcohol or his cigarette smoke

BILLY & STU

Both genuinely curious and love it

They don’t really understand it but they are willing and ready to try

Taking you on nature walks probably wont be as relaxing as they promised; Stu will climb a weird tree and end up hurting himself, then you will find some neat looking mushrooms and they dare each other to eat it

Find it hot but are a little spooked

Billy would hate the smell of sage but Stu doesn’t mind it all

They find it sweet when you try to put protection stones in their pockets when they go to kill

Stu will bring you an average rock from the sidewalk and say hey this is neat, here you go

They are defiantly into trying witchcraft with you

Stu will love your home made teas

Billy will never make a big deal about what you do, he just thinks it is neat and willing to go get whatever you need for your work, and ngl he is more interested in dark magic

They will defiantly interrupt you will you are meditating or doing spell work so always try to do it when they aren’t home

Will ask if you could do tarot readings on them and if you use a crystal ball

The crystal for them is Jade - a good protection and supportive stone, seeks love, passion and nourishment. It is also good for dreams and astral projection

THE LOST BOYS

They are no strangers to the supernatural of course but they don’t know what a witch is beyond what they’ve seen in movies

I feel it would be very 50/50 on caring or not, this stuff isn’t even on their radars

Dwayne, I think would handle it the best. (correct me if I am wrong) He is of Native American descent, so he has heard lots of stories about shamans and he is the most spiritual out of all the boys

Once they see you doing spell work or setting up an alter they are much more interested

If you are already turned, you are arguably one of the most powerful, David will not admit it but he knows it

Marco will 100% bring you random things he likes, not at all related to witchcraft but he thinks it could be, man doesn’t get it

David finds you extremely sexy, him and Dwayne will probably be the only ones that actually get it, and David loves the power

They pretty much just leave you to it

A lot of moon and shadow work will be your main witchcraft with them

If you are cleansing the cave with sage Paul and Marco will make drug jokes and ask to smoke some

ngl I think Paul might be the most scared of you, but he will never show it, He doesn’t understand it and thinks you going to spray him with holy water or make him have nightmares

Dwayne will be the one to take you to the surrounding forests and go on some nature walks with you, collecting what you need

David - black tourmaline: a very powerful protection stone, pure black, great for purification and helping with anger. Star - rose quartz: the stone of love and purity, heals the heart, and dissolves worry and fear turning those feelings into love. Marco - Emerald: a crystal just as blue as his eyes. A stone of hope, encouragement and joy, turns negative energy into strength, love and compassion. Dwayne - fire agate: This stone has a very deep connection the earth radiating calm, stability and strength, also very good for power and protection. Paul - rutilated quartz: a crystal that seeks truth and authenticity, giving strength to the truest souls and uplifts and brings joy.

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softlimefluff · 3 years

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Maybe Tonight - p9

A/N: This one took a while with all the setup, but I’m really excited to see what happens with everyone and reader fully manifesting their stand soon!!!

CW: Medical situations-- mentions of wounds, small “surgery” with tweezers + numbing agent and removal of rock creature bugs that reader can’t see, Rai turns his arms into a basket (idk if that’s really body horror bc it’s his stand, but just in case)

Staring out Rai’s backseat window, you watched the blurry shapes of trees and flowers rush by, thinking about this morning.

Casting a glance at Rai in the front seat, you stared quietly, studying his face—the faint pink of his cheeks and strong line of his jaw. He felt you staring and tossed a quick glance back in the mirror, making you blush and look down to study the pattern of the blanket covering your legs.

After the shower, Rai had wrapped you in a towel, put his hair up in one of those towel turban things, and led you to get dressed in your room.

“I think you can handle this one, right?” He gripped the towel slung low on his hips, heading for your door and glancing back.

“Yeah, I’ll manage.”

“We’re going to town when you’re ready. Holly needs to look at your wound site again.”

You replied with a small hum and nod. “I’ll be out soon.”

When you met up again, Rai was just braiding his hair, securing the ends with black elastics. He gave you a smile, tossing the hair band packet onto the counter. “Be ready in a sec.”

Pulling on a baseball cap and a button down shirt, Rai found his car keys and wallet, shoving both into his pockets. “Want me to piggyback you to the car?~”

You laughed, imagining what that would look like. “I’m not that injured Rai, I can still walk.”

“Just don’t wanna make it worse before Dr. Joestar-Kira can take a look atcha…”

“Maybe a kiss for strength would help~”

Rai turned around instantly in shock, caught off guard. “Uh,,,”

Pulling the brim of his hat down, he walked closer, steps slow but methodical and cheeks flushed. Tilting his head as he came close, he leaned in for a slow kiss. You gripped the back of his neck gently, holding the kiss longer, not wanting to lose this moment of closeness.

The bit of tension that had persisted after the shower melted away, leaving only a quiet, warm silence. Rai offered his hand to you, leading you outside, locking the front door, then helping you into the car.

Now here you were, laying across the back seat, patiently waiting during the drive to town. Rai had the stereo turned up with of his random playlists blasting over the stereo. This one was a bubblegum electro pop song, not quite hyperpop, but still pretty modern sounding.

Rai was still full of surprises.

Though Rai needed two arms and a leg to drive, he had unwound one leg to let DS sit on the floor behind the driver’s seat and keep you company. You reached out for his head, petting it softly, then remembering that Rai could feel it too. The car swerved slightly when you started, then stabilized as you continued.

“You surprised me… Warn me or somethin next time.”

Chuckling, you pulled your hand back. “What, say something like, can I pet you Rai??? Does that work??”

“At least while we’re driving!”

You laughed again, giving Doggy an affectionate head ruffle and suddenly feeling small sparks pull from your hands.

Staring at them, you flipped your hands flat, then over, and back again, trying to figure out if you had collected static electricity from the blanket or what.

A faint golden glow surrounded your palms and fingers, then faded quickly, leaving you sleepy against the car window.

Was that a “stand?” Do I have a stand??

“Rai,” you mumbled sleepily, “I’m gonna rest until we get there…”

“Okay, sweet pea, whatever you want.”

You chuckled to yourself at the nickname, closing your eyes and almost instantly passing out with the lull of the car and music.

***

The next time you woke up, you were in a hospital room, laying on an exam table with Rai and Holly staring over at you.

Bolting upright, you apologized, adjusting to your surroundings. Holly walked over, extending a hand to your shoulder. “Try to relax. Rai carried you in because you were still sleeping.”

Rai held up his hands. “DS gives me extra carrying strength~”

Holding up your chart, Holly pulled out a pen. “What other symptoms have you been experiencing in the past few days?”

You looked down at your bandaged leg, swinging it up onto the table. “More pain at the bite site, some ankle weakness as a result. Loss of appetite, but Rai’s been doing his best. And uh…” Cheeks flushing, you leaned over to whisper the last point to Holly.

She chuckled and made a note, nodding. “Let’s take a look at how the wound is doing.”

Slipping on a pair of gloves, Holly gently removed the dressing, inspecting the wound below. Taking a sterile cloth, she wiped any discharge away and noted the condition and shape of the marks.

“These were the deepest bites I’ve ever seen from the wall eyes. The organisms there must have been pretty attracted to your scent—sensed your stand potential.”

“Will my ankle keep hurting this bad? How long will it take to heal?”

Walking to the counter nearby, Holly grabbed a magnifying visor, pulling it onto her head and turning the light on, tapping the side to increase magnification. “I’m going to take a closer look and see if there’s any residual particulates left since it’s had a few days to clear up. Hopefully that will help answer your questions.”

You reached out a grabby hand to Rai, holding on as Holly leaned down, letting out a surprised “Oh!”

Finding a pair of tweezers on a tray nearby, Holly held them, picking up a spray next and misting the wound. “There’s very small rock particulates I need to get out. I’ve numbed the area, so it shouldn’t hurt… Rai, can you make a containment vessel? They exhibit rock creature characteristics and I’ll need to take them to a special SPW unit for elimination or research.”

His eyes grew wide but he nodded, letting go of your hand and starting a complicated weaved container from his arms. “They won’t get into my skin, right?”

“As long as you have no cuts, you should be fine.”

“Good.”

Watching curiously, you saw Holly pinch the tweezers and drop nothing (?) into Rai’s vessel, repeating the action multiple times before being satisfied that it was cleaned out. You immediately felt more energy, the drained effect from the past few days lifting.

“What was that? I couldn’t see anything…”

Holly removed her gloves, tossing them out and washing her hands. “Rai will fill you in about the town history soon, I’m sure, but those were leftovers from the past. Small rock bugs, like parasites, attracted to stand energy and feeding off of it.”

She grabbed a new, clean pair of gloves, reaching for new dressing materials. “Have you seen any signs of your stand manifesting yet?”

Rai grinned, blurting out, “She can see Doggy Style now!!!”

You beamed back, nodding. “Yeah! I can see them now. And… This morning in the car… When I was petting DS, I got this kind fo energy? Like gold glowing sparks? I couldn’t keep them long though and got really worn out.”

Mouth popping open, Rai realized why you had fallen asleep so hard.

“Well.” Holly smoothed the edges of the dressing down, having put an antibacterial spray on first. “You should find your stands’ physical form will manifest soon, now that we’ve removed the limiters.”

Turning to Rai, she motioned to the basket. “You know where the SPW lab is, right? Explain the situation, here, I’ll clip my badge to your pocket, and deposit the material to them.”

“Right. I’ll be back in a few minutes. (y/n) don’t go anywhere, ok?”

“I’ll be here, promise.”

When the door shut, Holly finished cleaning up the operation area. “Did you have any other questions you needed to ask me, (y/n)?”

“Don’t think so… When should I come back in?”

“About a week. Then we can see wound healing and if your stand is manifesting.”

“O-ok.”

Holly smiled, tossing the used rags into the trash. “Trust Rai. Ask him more questions about the past. He’ll be blunt with you, but in the end he knows what’s best for you to hear. I trust him with your care.”

You bit your lip, nodding. “He was really sweet. He took care of me so well when my leg was weak.”

“Rai’s main profession might be fruit, but he has a caring streak he tries to hide. In the past, he protected himself first and foremost, because no one else would. But once he met my son, met Yasuho, they all worked together to free and save the town.”

“Gappy… Wait, no, Josuke, is your son?”

Holly chuckled, tossing her gloves away once more. “Yes. He is.”

“Wow. Wow, ok!! I didn’t realize. You must love Yasuho!!”

Grinning, Holly nodded. “She’s a sweetheart. I’m glad the two of them found each other.”

Smiling and thinking for a moment, you realized you had been neglecting your main job for almost a week now. “CRAP.”

Having just walked back through the door, Rai cocked his head. “Somethin wrong?”

“My boss is gonna have a fit… I forgot to contact them…”

“Ah.” Rai walked next to you, leaning against the table. “Hopefully you can explain… Holly, we can get a doctor’s note, right?”

“When you check out at the desk, ask for a form for the days you’ve been sick. They’ll get you a slip.”

You sighed, slipping down off the exam paper. “Thanks. I hope it works.”

“If all else fails, I’m sure Gappy or Rai could put in a good word at the fruit parlor. I hear Mitsuba is looking for new employees since Hato got married.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Rai mused, offering his arm out to you and holding Holly’s medical badge back out to her. “Time to go?”

Nodding, you wrapped your arm around his. “Yeah. Time to go. Thanks for everything Dr. Joestar-Kira. We’ll see you soon.”

“My pleasure. Have a good afternoon.”

#maybe tonight #rai mamezuku x reader #rai mamezuku #jjba #jojo x reader #jojolion #medical cw #holly joestar #holly joestar kira

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flame-shadow · 3 years

Note

Thoughts on areas like the Soul Sanctum, Deepnest, or the Mantis's area?

(My brain doesn't wish to cooperate with the name)

you’re going to get all three because two of those areas are faves of mine and the last one has one of my fave boss fights :3c

[i don’t have the wiki pulled up or anything so obligatory disclaimer that i might misremember some things. also, im gonna throw all of this under the cut because this is going to be more of a stream of consciousness than an actually coherent thing]

SOUL SANCTUM

let’s just get this out of the way first - love love love love love the music holy shit. it’s not something i’d listen to when i want to chill out, but oooohhhhh those organs. and when the whispers are in there too?? and “Mage Under Glass” with the laughter??? yesss

Anyway. In general, I’m a sucker for unethical laboratories in stories and games. There’s so much potential for fucked up and creative ideas within canon and in the fan characters/interpretations (I’m looking at you, Fraught. i love you, you fucked up spider <3).

How do you get soul? you harvest it. and you get on the king’s bad side in the process of course. and the watcher’s too, im sure. lurien’s like, ‘hey wtf those bugs are citizens under my watch. stop it’ and ‘well fuck you, im gonna point my telescope right into your office window, you soul bastard. i can read all the notes on your fucked up experiments now. whatcha gonna do now?’

How unethical were the experiments before the radiance’s insidious presence became a factor? Even if the Sanctum started as a safe place of learning, I think it wouldn’t have taken long for at least some of the bugs to start doing questionable things. Not everyone needs a moth to nudge them to cross the ethics line. But when the soul master changed course, set the scholars to study immortality, what did they focus on? improving the body so it won’t slow and cease its function as time passes? prolonging the stability of the mind so age doesn’t corrupt memories or cognition? focusing on a bug’s own soul to do something that way? any combination of this could fuck up the stability of the mind and/or body of the subjects. That’s where we get the mistakes/follies, right? too much soul for some that cause melting pretty quickly. for others that don’t have a negative reaction right away, maybe a dependency on soul is built up and must be maintained to stave off negative effects of withdrawal, then of course there’s a shortage. you can’t harvest bodies forever. maybe the souls of the infected bugs aren’t viable, maybe the infection taints them, spreads the infection to whatever bug absorbs it. there are options here.

There’s also the soul warriors. They have dream dialogue where they say something about not remembering how they have these moves or how to fight or something like that, right? so what if those bugs had souls of trained fighters like city sentries implanted in them? they suddenly have new instincts for situations that they themselves didn’t experience or train for. i kinda get neuromod vibes from this concept (from the game Prey).

Also, the parallels between the soul master and the pale king are neat. they both have corpse pits. they both think they’re hot shit (and to be fair, they are both powerful even if they’re in different leagues). the radiance directly fucks with both of them. neither of them admit defeat in their final dream nail dialogue. (iirc, arty-cakes has made a similar observation about the parallels, but i noticed this long before they made their post. still, it’s a good observation)

uhhh okay i’ll stop there for the Sanctum

DEEPNEST

...skitter skitter skitter skitter...

i feel so sorry for anyone who has arachnophobia and couldn’t enjoy the game because of this area. that sucks. this is one of my fave areas specifically because of the skitters and clicks and snaps and wibbly music/sound effects that occasionally made my skin crawl.

im a fan of spiders and centipedes, and deepnest delivered!

i have a lot of headcanon stuff for deepnest society and beasts that has little to do with the game or established lore, so i’ll leave that for another time. But for more game-related stuff, let’s see...

i think nosks and corpse creepers and grub mimics, if not different life stages of the same species, are at least related. like how wild cats and cheetahs and panthers are related but not the same. nosks have the most developed shape shifting capabilities, and they have a sort of pocket dimension that they can fold their body into so they can fit into smaller disguises (how else do you explain how large the infected nosk actually is compared to the much smaller knight that it ran around as to lure the player in? magical dimension powers is what i’ve decided)

the weaver’s den showed much more development of architecture. more metal and arches and stuff. i can’t recall to what extent the basic shapes and materials reflect parts of hallownest, but i think that place was a more recent development compared to the rest of the Beasts’ infrastructure.

PK reeeaaallllyyyyy wanted to get a tram all the way across deepnest, didn’t he? we get one tram to the eastern edge which conveniently takes riders to the ancient basin below where most of hallownest’s citizens are. but then the failed tramway that heads for the distant village. could it have been one of the lesser conditions of herrah’s and pk’s agreement? but herrah would be asleep so she wouldn’t need the tram to visit the palace or have hornet visit her. but why else would a tram be intended to cross to there? idk that one doesn’t make much sense to me. maybe i’m forgetting a detail, but whatever.

deepnest is a horrible maze that i will continue to get lost in.

[bonus - okay i’ll share this: one of the made-up swears i use for my beast character is “writhing mass” in reference to the skittering, scuttling pit of writhing things found as an area hazard in lieu of acid. like “bloody hell” or something haha. also it’s just fun to say.]

MANTIS VILLAGE

Alas, i don’t spend a whole lot of time in this area. I think the mantids are cool and honorable, and i apologize for my weaverlings attacking friendly mantids, but sometimes a little deepnest should be allowed to cause mayhem in the mantis village, okay?

mantis lords/sisters of battle are great boss fights. the choreography and smoothness and reflexes and aaaahhhh yeah

i seriously wonder what’s up with all the giant spikes though. like. not even deepnest has giga-spikes like that. ......actually. i wonder if those spikes are there in case the beasts overrun the village. they’d certainly be painful obstacles to beasts trying to climb out of the village and into the fungal wastes.

I think it would’ve been cool if there had been some bit of dialogue or a lore tablet that hinted at the mantis traitors. i know there’s the broken throne, but i didn’t notice that; it was pointed out to me after i’d already played once or twice through the game. don’t get me wrong- it’s a cool little thing to look back on and be like ‘i see what you did there’. environmental storytelling or whatever. but i’d like a little more anyway.

i wonder how the fungal folk feel about the mantids. i imagine they occupy their own sections of the fungal wastes and just mutually don’t bother each other. i wonder how diplomacy would work between a mantis of individual mind and a mushroom of shared consciousness? they make a nice contrast in a sharp and cutting/soft and bludgeoning way as well as a swift and silent/energetic and noisy way with how they attack and stuff.

okay that’s it. thanks for asking! if you read all of that, have a cookie

#alskdflasf maybe this is why i shouldn't make posts with takes #i just ramble instead of having cohesive ideas #still! this was fun to ramble about!#thanks for sending the ask!#rambling #flame answers #even though i feel like i asked a lot of my own questions too haha #alistairillustrates #the pale king #the radiance #soul sanctum #soul master

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soulwillower · 4 years

Text

daft pretty boys • stanley barber

(stanley barber x reader)

requested: i again cannot find the requests sorry my inbox is a mess lol 🥴 but shout out to all the anons who said i should write this😌🤘🏼

warnings: underage drinking, underage marijuana use, drunk making out, sexual themes, light choking (eleanor made me do it), idk what else, i do not know what this is and its unedited

[loosely inspired by daft pretty boys by bad suns]

[stanley + reader are aged up 18+ in this.]

1.6k words

♡

this party was really shaping up to be the lamest thing stanley had partaken in quite some time - not by his standards, of course, but by everyone else's. probably.

nobody was really talking to him, so he wouldn't know. but, he's here because this may be better than anything else he could find himself doing on a saturday night, and he was just drunk enough to not care where he was. so for now, stan's having a fine time people-watching while he sips on a fruit punch and vodka combination that slowly washes away the taste of weed lingering in his throat.

a soft laugh, nothing too out of the ordinary, jolts stan's foggy mind as he swivels his head towards the sound. he barely takes the moment to consider what made him turn at the mere sound of a laugh as he focuses on the figure in the corner.

oh, stanley knows her. y/n y/l/n. upon first glance she seems innocent and naive - she certainly acts like it. upon further inspection, however, stanley briefly yet certainly understands that that exterior lies way to a complex human, a person worth knowing way, way more than any of the sweaty dancing bodies around him. and yet, she's overlooked by nearly every person at this party.

yes, she's talking to charlie hoffman right now but stan realizes with a hiccup and a smirk to himself that he's not quite sure who is more bored of their conversation. and as y/n tosses charlie a smile and quickly darts her mischievous eyes elsewhere, stan can't help but outwardly chuckle.

she's wild and chaotic and confusing and beautiful, and when stanley lays his eyes on her all he can see is a sunrise shrouded in a cloud of mystery. she's wasting her time with all these people. (not that stanley's much different.)

he thinks it's funny; she's so stunning, wearing what she does and acting the way she is, and yet he's not sure what she'd think if he told her that. he's got a sneaking suspicion that she wastes her time with all these people who really don't deserve her, no matter how consciously aware of it she is or is not.

that's what he assumes, at least. stanley usually doesn't feel this way - maybe it's because of the drinks he's had combined with the pre rolled joint he packed and smoked by himself on the way over, or maybe it's just because its you and he's always felt this way, but he feels like a moth drawn to a flame. he can't stop watching, and he can't really get a good read on his own emotions as he does.

ten minutes later, stan's watching you talk to ricky berry. ricky's shrugging and muttering a single sentence to you, sipping on his cup as you tell him about something. stanley cocks a brow as ricky turns and walks away right in the middle of your sentence. and then, god damn it.

stan can't help himself as his feet saunter up to her figure, like a damn pig being led to the slaughter, and he already regrets it as he opens his mouth. "y/n." he says through (what he hopes is) a sly grin.

she turns to eye him, a wary look crossing her face although she smiles. "you've got sunglasses on, stanley." she deadpans in the absence of a greeting. stan inwardly chuckles.

"i sure do." he says, swinging his arms awkwardly. why does stan suddenly feel nervous? she's just so cool, it makes stan nervous. he knows her, though. and she knows him, so what's going on with him?

she's just so gorgeous from far away, and now that he's seeing her up close, he's realized that there is so much potential; she's more than just a beautiful person, and he suddenly sees the mysterious troublemaker maintaining that look of beauty, much like dusk creeping through the sunset on a night sky.

he watches as her eyes swim around the crowd before stopping, and then she tucks a stand of hair behind her ear. he watches, thinking fleetingly how dangerous she is for him.

"i've got to go." she says suddenly, eyes pinning to something behind him.

then she swims past him, locking eyes for one moment before she's gone. he blinks at the blank space that y/n previously occupied.

he was outside by himself when they next found each other - even fifteen minutes later than when they'd last spoke. but then again, stan thinks that when y/n enters a room time stops, so perhaps it had been longer than he thought.

but now, time moves at a normal speed as y/n sizes him up, walking towards where he leans on the retaining wall.

“why are you out here, Stanley?” she asks. he exhales, toe nudging a smidge of dirt and smiling as the smear flicks some pebbles towards her own feet.

“unsure.” he mutters because he’s crossed right now and his brain is so fuzzy that he’s not really sure if he wants her to know why he’s out here.

she hops onto the retaining wall he’s leant on and her bare thighs are splayed right next to his elbow, making him itch to touch her. his eyes trail over the expanse of that skin, taking on the scar right above her knee, the scrape on her calf, all the way to the stretch marks on the inside of her thighs. he has to tear his eyes away as heat rushes through his body.

"everybody else in this town is boring." he mutters with a shrug, taking a drag. she gives him a look. "if you seriously think that, then you're a cliche." she states, huffing. stan lifts a brow. "really? is that why you have so many friends?"

she looks offended, "you're a dick. i don't see you with anyone here either." she grumbles.

stan shrugs, "yeah, but i've accepted it. like i said, people aren't genuine here. it's boring." he'd tried his hardest to get syd and dina to come with him tonight, but they'd refused, stating that they had plans already but would try to come later - but it is later right now. so yeah, he's alone tonight.

she tilts her head, staring at him with those dangerous eyes. "then why aren't you leaving right now? why'd you even come?"

but stan can't say that he wants to find at least someone, because that's lame, so instead he says, "live drama has always been a favorite of mine."

she gives him another dirty look that is so delicious that stan almost melts, "you're such an ass, stanley." but she's got a coy little smile, the kind that hides secrets and promises mischief and so stan shrugs. "maybe i am, but you are too. plus, i'm starting to think you like it."

"how do you know that?" she asks, eyebrow cocked. he shrugs, mind hazy. he mutters, "for the same reason i know i like you. honesty."

she beams at that, eyes still slightly competitive. “i can’t help from speaking my mind.” she agrees and he almost laughs at the sincerity behind her words. it's something stan can relate to, and so he chuckles as he looks at the dirty pavement beneath his feet. "maybe i'm just drunk," she starts and oh, man - nothing good ever starts with that phrase. "but i think people don't give you enough credit."

stan lulls his head to look at her. “they give me too much credit, y/l/n. i’m no mystery.”

she laughs at that; her eyes set on the forest and the wide hills that encompass the two of them. stan looks out too and notices that the clouds are clumped around the trees up on the hill - they look like stagnant wisps of cotton that he used to pick off the balls his grandmother kept in her medicine drawer.

“what about me?” she asks, sounding genuinely curious. stan chuckles lightly at that, flipping himself so his body faces hers, his arms resting next to her hips.

he knows now that falling in love with this girl will inevitably cause damage. but he supposes if he's to fall victim to the ecstasy of love, despite the heartbreak that it usually brings, he'd like for it to be with her.

“you waste your time with them, y/n.” he says, feeling dizzy under her gaze – or under the influence of green he’d smoked and all that liquid courage. all three, most likely. “they’ve got all the time in the world for chasing whoever they want.”

“you know what i need, barber?” you asks in a challenge, and he can’t help the grin that sneaks onto his face when your hands pull his sunglasses from his face.

his eyes are hit with the true light of the night, the two-tone dark that blankets the trees around him and you; he’s suddenly watching as you slip the sunglasses onto your own face which is bathed in artificial orange light from the lamp post near you and the houselights.

you look like a dream in his glasses and it makes him chuckle, unsure how anybody has ever passed you by before.

“i’m just saying i think you’ve got no time to waste with the likes of them.” he says but it doesn’t come out as well as it flowed in his head. It barely makes sense at all, and your head tilts back as you let out a short, clipped laugh.

he smiles

“you’re odd, stanley. i've got a feeling that marijuana is rotting your brain.” she jokes, an alluring smirk enticing stan to lean closer.

her hands are stabilizing herself on the cement bricks in the same way that stan imagines she stabilizes herself to the world - carefree, with a confusing yet alluring smile that bewilders stanley to his wits end.

and her eyes are mischievous as she leans closer to him, close enough that he smells her all around him, a scent that faintly makes him think of running through a forest at midnight and skinny dipping in lakes. the world is shimmering in the orange light that bathes her in a warm glow.

is he in love?

she looks heavenly and he's falling, deeper and deeper and he knows that in a few seconds he's going to say something that'll mess it up because he can't help from speaking his mind. it’s exhilarating as he feels her breath on his lips and he grins, knowing that he’s making the best mistake of his life, and so is she.

he lets out a breath of frustration, tired of her teasing, and then pushes his lips against hers. she blooms under his touch.

her lips are slightly chapped, a stark and welcome contrast to stan's own smooth ones as they move slowly against him. her hand tangles into his hair and he loves the feeling of her against him, his hands sliding up to her hips to tug her closer towards him. her tongue swipes against his bottom lip and he receives it gladly, grinning lightly into her mouth.

she pulls apart with a slight sigh, grinning to him and kissing him again briefly before looking to the sky. he watches her, unable to move as he chuckles lightly, head spinning from the weed and the spiked punch and the taste of her lips. she hums, face red and eyes flittering over the skyline behind him.

her fingers hold his neck, toying with the collar of his cardigan but she looks almost bored. in his hazy mind, he knows he has to prove her wrong.

"you can do better than that, can't you?" she asks with that damn coy smile, and stan can't help but groan lowly as she tugs him closer again.

his lips crash onto hers with much more force this time, his hand sliding up to tug on her hair as he licks into her mouth. she lets out a small whimper as she hooks her legs around his hips, bending her body towards him, pressing up against him. he's enthralled at the feeling of her chest on his, legs wrapped around him and their tongues tangled together in the midnight air.

his hand snakes slowly as she tilts her head, exposing her neck as if she's begging for it desperately - and in his drunk stupor, his hand grips her to steady her head, deepening the angle of his mouth slanted on her, absorbed in the feeling. she moans lowly into his mouth and he pulls back as he realizes that he felt the moan vibrate around his hand more than he heard it.

she's gasping, eyes wide and beautiful as she's watching his with a light blush, his hand wrapped gently around her throat. he can't remember slipping it there, but her small grin and the feeling in the pit of his stomach tells him that neither of them want it to stop.

"oh," she rushes out, eyes on his lips, "that's better." and hes pulling her back to him again hungrily, her hands pulling him closer as her hips buck slightly. he groans into her mouth and his other hand moves to her thigh, squeezing it and relishing in the feeling of the bare skin below his palms.

"stan?!" a voice calls, making him pull away from her, hand falling from her throat to land on her other thigh as he turns to his left, eyes landing on dina and syd, their eyes wide. syd's jaw is dropped and dina's wearing a surprised grin, "hi, y/n." she says in amusement and shock.

"oh, h-hi guys." y/n mutters, a smile on her face even as she flusters. syd waves with her free hand then shoots stan a look.

stan shrugs, "didn't think you were gonna show." he says casually, ignoring the butterflies as y/n's face falls to rest on his shoulder. “we figured you wanted company, but...” syd trails off awkwardly and stan feels y/n huff lightly into his shoulder.

“well, we’re gonna go inside.” dina says, pulling syd by her hand up towards the backdoor to the house.

“oh my god.” y/n mutters as they leave, and stan chuckles, turning back around to her and helping her hop down off the wall.

“who cares?” stan asks with a shrug, an easy smile. he’s just too damn happy and riled up to care. she beams at him, rolling her eyes, “c’mon, where’s your car?” she asks, bending over to pick up his sunglasses that had fallen before tugging his hand into hers.

the wink she sends him as he pulls out his keys has him swooning - she’s getting him into something, for sure.

and as she pulls him into the backseat of his car, he realizes he can’t wait.

//tag list:

@gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @emnotm @moon-shine-baby @toziershmozier @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @beauregard-s @finnskindofwoman @kait-tozier @upamongthestarss @roygbivvie \\

#stanley barber x reader #stanley barber smut #ianowt x reader #another song fic #i didnt read this at all sorry

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years

Note

hi, idk if you're taking requests rn but i was wondering if you could do a peter x astrophilia! reader where they're stargazing and he's just staring at her in awe while she rambles about space and she sees him staring and just blushes n goes quiet 🥺

Astrophilia

Astrophilia- (noun) Love of and/or obsession with planets, stars, and outer space.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

At age fourteen, you didn’t exactly have much on your plate. It was the summer before high school and your days mostly consisted of the same things: Subways rides to the “dangerous” parts of New York (or as far as Aunt May allowed) and trips to random streets you couldn’t find on a map. Some days were spent inside playing Mario Kart until your thumbs hated you, and some days were spent outdoors until the sun had fully set and your parents were just about ready to kill you for being out so late. No matter what you were doing, you days were spent with your best friend Peter Parker.

You’d been friends since preschool and being apart was not something either of you enjoyed. Today was no different. You were hanging out in Peters room, just three days before high school was going to start.

It was a slow Sunday. You were just sitting on Peters bed, joking around like always. It's been that way for years, Peter and Y/n, the dynamic duo. But you kinda always liked him a little more than a friend. You couldn't help it. Peter was sweet, kind, adorable, respectful, and treated you like royalty. You didn’t know when the platonic moments in your friendship began to feel romantic, but once you noticed, it was all you thought about.

“Do you think the people will be nice?” You asked Peter as you curled into on of his pillows. Peter joined you on the bed and shrugged.

“I’m sure they’ll be nice enough.” He said.

“Do you think the boys will be nice?” You asked the real question that was on your mind.

Peter was quiet for a minute and shifted his position.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged and kept his eyes down. “Maybe?”

You sat up on your elbow and faced him.

“Do you think they’ll like me?” You asked him awkwardly. Sometimes, having a boy best friend made conversations like these harder than they needed to be.

“The boys?” Peter squeaked, feeling a weird feeling in his tummy at your sudden interest in guys.

“Yeah.” You said shyly.

“Of course they will.” Peter stated. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“I’m kinda, I don’t know, nerdy.” You shrugged.

“You think you’re nerdy?” Peter asked. “I wear science pun T shirts and my aunt still packs my lunches.”

“Yeah, but what about the whole space thing?” You asked him. You were a bit of a space geek, something Peter adored about you.

“Y/n, you’re a genius when it comes to knowing about space. That doesn’t make you a nerd. That makes you super cool.” Peter assured you. He hated when you felt insecure about your intelligence. You were the smartest person he knew, and he loved that.

“I’m glad you think so, but I doubt high school boys will find my geekiness ‘super cool’.” You said meekly.

“What kind of guys are you into anyway?” Peter pretended to just think of the question, when he’d really been thinking about it for months. You laughed a little to yourself, know long the kind of guys you were into were Peter.

“I don’t know. Nice ones? I don’t really think about it. As long as he’s kind and can make me laugh, I’ll take him.” You shrugged with a small smile. “And if he knows a thing or two about space, that’d be nice too.”

“You’re telling me all a guy has to be is kind, funny, know a little something about space to be with a girl like you?” Peter asked in disbelief. “There’s gotta be something else, something you look for.”

“A girl like me?” You asked curiously.

“Yeah, uh, I don’t know.” Peter scratched the back of his neck. “It was a dumb question. Forget I asked.”

“Okay.” You watched Peter curiously for a moment before looking away. “And I like musicians, by the way.” You blurted. “That’s the thing I look for. Especially the guitar.”

You and Peter dropped the topic and went on as usual.

The first day of school came and went. When the sun set and you finished your homework, you took Peter to the roof to stargaze like you always did. You sat between Peters legs against the chimney and tilted your chins towards the sky.

“Wow.” You breathed.

“The stars are really showing off tonight, aren’t they? Putting on a show for us.” Peter said softly as he watched your reaction to the sky.

“I could look at the sky for hours.” You sighed and held onto Peters arm, which were wrapped around your shoulders.

“They seem so close. Just a few miles from where we are.” Peter commented.

“Well the closest star to Earth is Proxima Centauri. It’s just 4.2 light-years away.” You absentmindedly told Peter a fact about space. You missed the fond smile he gave you as he found himself wanting to know more.

“And the furthest?” He asked.

“The furthest star right now is 100 million light years away. It’s in the M100 galaxy of the Virgo Cluster.” You said like it was common knowledge. Peters eyes gleamed with an inexplicably fondness for your intelligence.

“How many do you think there are? A million?” He asked, playing dumb now to coax more facts out of you.

“About 200 to 400 billion, and about a trillion in the Milky Way.” You answered, suddenly becoming self conscious of your words. “Uh, I’m guessing.”

“Seems like a pretty good guess to me.” Peter shrugged against your body.

“Sorry. I’m being weird. I’ll stop.” You shifted awkwardly and swallowed.

“You’re not being weird.” Peter said defensively. “Tell me about them.”

“What?” You looked over your shoulder at him.

“The stars. Tell me about them. I want to hear everything you know.” Peter smiled sheepishly.

“No you don’t. It’s boring.” You shook your head.

“Not to me.” Peter promised. A smile tugged onto your lips and you turned back towards the sky.

“So, space is infinite, obviously.” You began. “You got your planets, galaxies, moons, nebulas, and of course, stars. My favorite are stars.”

“Me too.” Peter held you closer and rested his chin on your hair as he listened.

“Stars are luminous spheres made of plasma-“

“Plasma?” Peter asked.

“It’s superheated gas threaded with a magnetic field.” You answered. Stars are mostly made of hydrogen, which they fuse in their cores.”

“Got it.” Peter nodded as if he understood a word you said. His sudden interest encouraged you to keep going.

“That process releases energy, which pushes against the weight of the outer layers of the star and stabilizes it. The energy is also released as heat and light, which radiates out to space.” You continued.

“Amazing.” Peter stared at your profile. The way your face lit up when talking about something you loved made Peters heart melt. He could listen to you all night.

“I know, right?” You laughed happily, making Peter grin. “And did you know stars were some of the first objects to form in the early stages of the universe? We’re looking at the same stars dinosaurs, Galileo, and King Henry have looked at. Isn’t that incredible to think about? The same sun that warms our skin has shown on Alice Paul and Stan Lee. That’s why I love space so much.”

“I didn’t know that.” Peter said gently.

“Because people don’t take the time to learn about it.” You sighed in disappointment. “I mean, they teach us about the phases of the moon and whatnot, but they don’t tell us about the basic groundwork of the universe. Like, have you ever been taught how a star is formed?”

“No. Could you tell me?” Peter asked gently.

“Well, as long as you’re asking.” You smiled sheepishly to hide your excitement. “So, star formation happens in clouds of interstellar gas and dust called “nebulae”, right? The star starts to form when the cloud is nudged into a spinning motion, usually by a shock wave from a nearby supernova explosion or something. Clumps begin to form, and they get hotter and hotter as they gain more mass. When the temperature inside reaches 10 million degrees Celsius a star is born.” You recited. You looked over at Peter and noticed that he was dead silent, just staring at you. Your cheeks heated up when Peter didn’t say anything, and you got quiet. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”

“No, it’s okay.” Peter snapped out of his awe and assured you. “Keep going.”

“Do you really want to hear about stars?” You asked suspiciously.

“No, but I like to hear you talk.” Peter admitted.

"I still can't believe Liz turned you down.” You changed the subject to something more Peters speed. He had asked Liz Allen to the back to school party at Flash’s house and she promptly turned him down. “She's crazy."

You felt Peter shrug against you again and you wondered if you should’ve kept your mouth shut.

"It’s whatever. I didn’t really like her anyway.” Peter answered honestly.

"I know, but still. Who in their right mind would turn you down? She’s lucky you even looked her way.” You said, not even realizing what your words meant to Peter. He felt it too, that shift from platonic to romantic. He was just glad you weren’t facing him and couldn’t see his blush.

“You’re just saying that.” He replied.

“No, I’m not.” You said sincerely. “You're so nice to everyone and so smart. And oh my God, the funniest guy in the world. And not to mention, cute as hell.”

Peters body suddenly felt warm against yours and you wondered if he was blushing.

(Yes, he was)

"Nowhere near as cute as you." He said in a shy voice. You looked back at him gave him a playful shove.

"Oh, shut up. No I'm not." You looked back at the sky to keep yourself from smiling as Peter shook his head.

"You should see the way guys look at you. They practically drool." He muttered, and you could hear a tinge of jealousy in his voice.

"Oh, please. No guys stare at me.” You dismissed. “Why would they? I'm nothing special."

Peter finally looked at you and met your eyes.

"Do you really not know you're beautiful?" He asked, confusion in his voice.

"What?” You asked quietly.

"You know you're beautiful, right Y/n?" Peter sat up a little and sounded serious. Unsure of what to say, you didn’t answer and just chewed your lips.

"Did you really not know that?” Peter asked again.

You shook you head and Peter laughed in disbelief.

"I'm not beautiful, Peter. Not like Liz, anyway. Not even close." You said softly, making Peter look at you like you were crazy.

"Yes you are, Y/n.” Peter said firmly. “Inside and out. I can't believe no ones ever told you."

“Why does it matter?” You shrugged.

“Look up.” Peter said suddenly, and you did.

“You see those stars? All 200 to 400 billion of them?” He asked and you nodded. “You are more beautiful than every single one of them. Even the trillion in the Milky Way. And you’re wrong. The closest star isn’t 4.2 light years away. She’s sitting right next to me.”

“You listened.” You smiled small and looked back down at him.

"I always listen.” Peter told you. That's it, hand me my backpack.” He commanded. You laughed but did as you were told. Peter began to dig in his backpack, emptying it of books to find what he was looking for.

"What are you doing?" You asked him. He didn't answer, but pulled a small ukulele out of his bag.

“Since when do you play?” You asked in shock. You were so sure you knew everything there was to know about Peter Parker.

“Since about three days ago.” Peter answered as he held the instrument to his ear and tuned it.

"Just listen, okay? I know it’s not a guitar, but listen.” He asked calmly. You nodded, dying to see where this was going as he began to strum his ukulele. His fingers soon found the rhythm and a melody flowed out. You didn't recognize the song a first, but soon realized it was You're Beautiful by James Blunt. You smiled and rested your hand on his knee as he played.

"My life is brilliant, my love is pure. I saw an angel, of that I'm sure." He sang softly. Not only could Peter play, the boy could sing. His voice was smooth and angelic, making your heart flutter. You’d never been serenaded before and it was definitely something you could get used to.

"You're beautiful, you’re beautiful, you’re beautiful, it's true. I saw your face in a crowded place and I don't know what to do. Cause I'll never be with you." He continued the song, finally looking away from the strings and into your eyes. You listened to him as closely as you could, basking in the moment. There was that incredible voice that you loved. Peter was always shy about things he was good at, and you wondered if that’s why you’d never heard his singing before. You felt robbed of his glory for the past 14 years.

"There must be angel with a smile on her face when she thought up that I should be with you.” He sang through a smile.

You beamed at him and his cheeks grew pinker and pinker. Peters fingers dragged along the strings as he approached the final verse.

"But it's time to face the truth; I will never be with you." He strummed once more before setting the ukulele down on his lap. He looked very satisfied with his little serenade before looking up at you for approval. You looked up into his brown eyes and broke into a huge smile.

"That was beautiful, Peter. I loved it.” You told him honestly as you reached over and took his hand. “But some of those lyrics are a lie."

Peter put the ukele back in his bag and sighed.

"No they're not, Y/n. You really are beautiful." He promised.

You laughed softly and toyed with his fingers.

"No, not those lyrics." You shook your head and Peter looked confused.

"Then, which lyrics?" He asked.

You held your breath and looked away from his gaze. It was time to take a leap of faith. “The ones that say ‘I'll never be with you’, I mean.That’s not true. At least, I hope it’s not true.” You look into Peters eyes and search them for a reaction. You thank your lucky stars when you see his face light up and a huge grin making its way across his lips.

"REALLY?!" He asked excitedly, then clears his throat and tries to look casual. "I mean um, really?" Peter asked with all the hope on the world in his eyes.

“Really.” You confirmed.

"Truth is Y/n, Liz didn’t turn me down. I actually turned her down for a the party because…” he trailed off.

"Because?" You asked, encouraging him to continue.

"Because, well...you're the one that I want. Not her or any other girl. I wanna be with you." He said softly and carefully, in fear of being rejected.

Little did he know, you had been dreaming of being his for months at that point. You didn't want to spend another second being just his friend. Peter looked at you longingly, expecting you to say something. But you didn't say anything; you just leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, gently in the pale moonlight. Peter seemed surprised at first, but then kissed you back, cupping your cheek with his hand. You leaned forward and pushed him back against the base of the chimney, melting into him. You finally broke apart and stared at each other in a comfortable silence, just enjoying each other's presence. He brought his slightly cold hand back to your cheek and you leaned into it.

"I really like you, Y/n.” Peter smiled, looking the happiest you’d ever seen him.

"I really like you too, Peter.” You smiled back.

Peter laughed in joy and kissed you again.

“Do you want to go to that party together?” Peter suggested “As a couple?”

“I would love to.” You agreed to his offer and turned around again to settle into his arms. You tilted your chins towards the sky again, returning to your stargazing. This time, you weren’t thinking about space. Stars weren’t your favorite thing in the universe anymore. Now, it was Peter Parker.

Tag List 🏷

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spider man: homecoming #spiderman x reader #iron man #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #peter parker fluff #peter parker x best friend!reader #peter parker x astrophilia!reader

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gaycrouton · 5 years

Note

Holy shit you write smut so damn well I needed to lay down for a minute. Any chance you’d take a prompt of a massage turned nsfw? Is it a kink? A trope? Idk but it’s hot 😛

Thank you so much, wonderful anon!! This is my second oldest prompt, so I’m sorry it took me 500 years to get to it, but I’m excited about it!! I’m going to go extremely out of my comfort zone and try, for what I believe is the first time ever, to write in second person. I’m nervous, this is an experiment, so please bear with me.

msr / s7 - set during the season of intense ust as I like to call it. (also, do I think this is actually how their first time would go? no, but anything can be explored in fanfic This version has been beta’d, thank you @admiralty-xfd]

You know it’s a bad idea before the words even leave your mouth, but you can’t help yourself - he looks like he is in pain and the doctor in you knows you can relieve his muscle tension (the lover in you knows that the method has been very well received by men in the past, and you’d do anything to see those expressions on Mulder’s face or hear those sounds come from his lips).

It isn’t as innocent or platonic as you tried to pretend it was.

“How about you turn around so your back is to me? I think I can help your pain,” you tell him in a tone of voice that leaves no room for argument.

But Mulder is ever the contrarian, “I-That’s okay, Scully. I don’t want to put you out.” His attempt at politeness is futile because you are already adjusting yourself onto your knees on the leather couch cushion, pivoting your body to face his.

“I insist,” you demand. You hope he doesn’t hear the slight tremor in your voice that feels like it’s radiating through your whole body. In your new position, you’re inadvertently closer to his height. You can feel your knees sliding towards him from his weight’s indentation on the couch and your thighs burn in your attempt to prevent yourself from sliding flush against him.

“Well, who am I to turn down a free massage?” he laughs, trying to mask his nervousness with humor, just as you’ve tried to mask yours with professionalism.

You let out a small breath as he turns and brings one leg up onto the couch, keeping the other planted on the ground, so that his back is to you. It’s not like either of you are puritans who’ve never touched, no. There was last week when you were bold enough to lay your legs across his lap as you watched the movie playing, both of you conscious about the growing bulge under your calf, but neither making a move to say anything - not even when his pants were tented as you left and you were bold enough to hug him. There was the other day at your place when some ice cream melted down your chin and onto your clavicle and he cleaned you up with his tongue, all while maliciously avoiding your lips which, despite having just touched ice cream, felt like they were on fire.

It was the recent closeness, the recent boldness, that has you both on edge. It’s one thing to recognize that a situation is intimate, it’s another to recognize a situation as intimate with the impending prospect of it quickly and easily turning into more.

And you want it to be more.

Oh, fuck, do you want it to be more.

You’ve been trying to gather the courage to snuggle against his side in the hopes he might just wrap his arm around you for the last hour since he popped in the VHS tape of Mrs. Doubtfire. Then he’d made that offhand comment about having slept wrong, and fate handed you a new idea on a silver platter.

You rest your hands on his shoulders for ‘stability’ as you lean yourself forward, so close that your breasts rub against his back, and more importantly so your mouth is against his ear. “Tell me if it hurts or if you need me to stop,” you whisper lowly, and you can feel his suppressed shudder beneath your palms.

If he weren’t being adorably shy, something unexpected and indescribably endearing you’ve discovered since you both started dancing in this will-they-won’t-they limbo, you think that he might’ve said something lascivious like “Hey, that’s usually my line.” But he is nervous, so he just nods.

Starting at his shoulders, you spread your fingers slightly to cover more surface area as you dig in with your palms in a circular motion. His neck falls forward almost immediately and, your own selfish arousal aside, knowing that you’re easing his pain makes you happy. You repeat the motion rhythmically over and over, moving your hands slowly over and around his shoulder blades, making sure you use your thumbs to massage around his spine.

“You’re really good at this,” he rasps in a low voice filled with relief (which in these moments sounds startlingly like pleasure) and it shoots straight through you.

“Thanks,” you reply, and if he’s surprised your tone matches his when you’re not even the one being touched, he doesn’t make a comment.

You scootch closer to him, close enough that you swear you can feel his body heat radiating through his thin shirt and then you get an idea.

“Can I take off your shirt?”

You’re not going to pretend like there’s a reason. You think for a moment about boasting how it’d make the massage more effective, but there’s no point when part of you wants him to know that you want to touch his body.

“Yeah,” he agrees, lifting his arms like a child. You’re confused for a moment before you realize he’s holding you to your word. You didn’t ask if he could take off his shirt, you asked if you could. It wasn’t purposeful, but you’re thankful for the small gift.

You move your hands down to the hem of his shirt and you drag it obscenely slowly up his body, making sure your fingers glide against his torso the whole way up. As the shirt passes the area in front of your face, you are overwhelmed by the waft you get of his scent and you swear to yourself it’s one of the world’s most powerful aphrodisiacs.

You toss the shirt onto the floor next to the couch and you’re left with a canvas of flesh in front of you that’s been painted with goosebumps. “Cold?” you joke.

“Quite the opposite,” he replies with a small smile clear in his tone.

You swallow thickly in response to his bold answer and put your hands back onto his body, this time squeezing up and down the length of his arms, feeling his taut, strong muscles under his soft flesh. You’re touching him with so much reverence, it feels like you’re reading scripture in braille - but the comparison doesn’t quite fit. Scripture could never conjure the sinful thoughts Mulder’s flesh does.

You shift your weight on your knees as you feel another gush of arousal dampen the crotch of your underwear and you start to fear he might smell you in the air like a perfume - Eau de Scully. As you shift, your breasts rub inadvertently against his back and you swear he pushes back lightly against you at the same time you hear a sharp intake of breath. Maybe it was your own gasp - you’re drunk off the feeling of his skin beneath you and nothing else seems to really matter.

Bringing your hands to the nape of his neck, you start a downward path to his tail bone. It’s an agonizingly long journey though, because with every vertebra you descend, your hands flutter horizontally to his sides just to come back again and continue your descent down. It’s like you’re memorizing the geographic plains and territories of his back like a map you’re committing to memory.

A few times as you’ve been doing this, he’s let out little sighs of pleasure. There’s even been a few small moans that he’s tried to cut off in the back of his throat which only serve to make them sound like strangled groans. You’re all but squeezing your thighs together rhythmically in harmony with every time you press down into his muscle. It almost crudely feels like you’re masturbating using Mulder’s body as the conduit for your own pleasure and it’s insanely erotic.

Speaking of masturbation, glancing down, you can tell Mulder has both hands resting in between his legs and out of sight. You may have just believed he was covering up his inevitable erection, but that doesn’t explain why you can see his forearms flex ever so slightly. He’s rubbing against himself and you know it.

And you want to be the one doing it.

You’ve undoubtedly covered every inch of his body by now and the room is charged with tension. The Scully from a few months ago, who let’s be honest - would never have been in this situation to begin with, would have patted him on the back, said “there you go” and politely ignored the way he ran to the bathroom and ran the water for a few minutes.

But you started this knowing full well there was only one real way for this to go and you’re done prolonging the inevitable. Once you’re at the base of his spine, you continue your pattern of going out horizontally, now towards his hips. Except this time you don’t stop. You can feel his body tense in anticipation of your unexpected move as your fingers glide smoothly over his hip bones. Your left hand moves so that you’re encircling his waist as the other slides over the front of his jeans so that you’re palming his erection.

His hips thrust languidly into your hand as his head falls back onto your shoulder. “Fuck, Scully,” he gasps in awe as you move your hand up and down his erection with gentle pressure.

You can feel his words against your collarbone since he’s laying on you, and you take advantage of the position to lower your head so you can suck on the tender skin covering a tendon in his neck. One of his hands comes up to cradle your head and it sends shivers down your spine to feel his nails graze your scalp.

You let go of his neck in favor of nipping at his earlobe as you move to undo the clasp of his pants. The button has just come undone when he deftly spins in your arms. The unexpectedness of his movements has you falling backwards, but he catches you as you shift your knees out from underneath you.

The end result is you reclined on your back, looking up at Mulder who’s in between your parted legs and hovering over you with the gaze of a lion who’s just set eyes on a lamb. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you breathe quickly. You know you’re wearing your arousal like a second skin and you don’t feel anything other than excitement.

Mulder’s eyes lower onto your rising and falling chest and you know he’s looking at your hardened nipples, standing out prominently against the thin fabric of your t-shirt. He brings his hands up to the bottom edge and looks to your face for permission. “May I?” he requests breathily.

You nod and arch your back as he gives you the same torturous treatment you gave him earlier. You’re pretty sure he’s only actually grabbing your shirt with his pinky and ring fingers, because he’s palming and fondling your sides enthusiastically, grabbing at them like your body is his lifeline.

You’re temporarily blinded as your shirt covers your eyes, and when you can see again, you’re greeted with Mulder licking his lips as he stares at your thin, nude bra. It’s not the sexiest thing you own, but the way Mulder’s appraising you, you’re fairly certain you could be wearing a burlap sack.

You lock eyes and you don’t want any roadblocks for whatever he has planned for you. Lifting your hips, and rubbing yourself against his leg in the process, your hands dart to unbutton your jeans and lower your zipper. Mulder’s eyes follow your hands and he moans from the visual stimulation alone. He steps off the couch for a moment and finishes what you started earlier, unzipping his own pants and stepping out of them, toeing off his socks while he watches you wiggle your hips and bring your jeans down your legs.

Mulder finishes the job by grabbing the legs of your pants and pulling at them, helping them slide off the rest of your legs. It was easier than either of you anticipated, so he stumbles back, just catching himself in time before falling on his ass, and the force makes you half slide off the couch. A laugh erupts from your throat at how eager you both are and he smiles at you in kind.

The laughter dies down as his eyes greedily roam your bra and underwear clad body and you’re not sure whether to scoot back into the same position or do something different. Everything feels suddenly more vulnerable now that you’re both so bare. Mulder must be thinking the same thing because he speaks up, “I can’t believe we’re really doing this.” His disbelief is matched in his tone and it makes you want to make sure he leaves this encounter knowing that this is what you’ve wanted for god knows how long.

You extend a hand out to him and he takes your cue to grab it and help you to your feet. Yet again, neither of you realize the power of your excitement as you launch yourself too hard and he overcompensates, sending you straight into his arms. Which was the goal anyway so it doesn’t matter to you.

You stand on your tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your whole body flush against his so that you can feel his erection pressing into your stomach, only heightening your own arousal. You shift and squirm your body against his so that you’re rubbing yourself against him. He groans and unexpectedly grabs you by the undersides of your thighs and hoists you up so that his erection is right against your swollen folds. You’re looking down at him now and still, despite the fact you just not-so-subtly tried to seduce him, he is looking at you as if asking silent permission and affirmation that what he is doing is okay.

You tentatively rock your hips against him and you both hiss in a breath. His fingers dig into your thighs, pressing you intimately closer to him and you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Trying to blink away the sensation for a moment, because there’s still something you need to do, you look down at him and, placing a finger under his chin, lift his gaze to your eyes. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Mulder,” you breathe.

You don’t give him a chance to reply before your lips are crashing onto his. He opens his mouth eagerly and you accept the invitation without a moment’s thought. You’re kissing Mulder. Mulder’s kissing you. You gasp into his mouth as you feel something cold against your back and your eyes shoot open and you realize he’s walked you both over to the nearest wall and he has you pinned against it with his hips.

His lips move to your neck where he starts mimicking your earlier actions on him, but there’s this little thing he’s doing with his tongue that makes your toes curl and makes a doofy smile cross your lips. You begin, to the best of your ability, undulating your hips against him so you can feel his cock throb against you, it causes him to groan into your neck and you decide in that moment you’ve both waited long enough.

Reaching down, you tug at his boxers, but your joined hips prevent them from sliding down. He careens his head back to look at you through hooded lids and asks “Are you sure?”

“Now,” you demand. You’re pretty sure you could’ve been more eloquent if you weren’t so damned aroused, but the message was received loud and clear either way. He pulls back only slightly so that he can free himself and you can sense he’s going to set you down so you can take off your underwear but you’d sooner die than break the contact. “No, just move them,” you whine, and yet again, he does as he’s told but this time with a cocky, aroused smile.

You feel your entire body jolt in pleasure as his head brushes against your aching clit and ll thoughts are wiped from your brain as he plunges his thick cock into you, stretching and filling you.

“Mulder,” you gasp as if the word is ripped from your soul, clenching your thighs around his waist and arching your back. The intensity of your reaction to him makes him have to readjust his footing, but he’s stabilized in no time and is soon enough thrusting into you, going deeper and deeper with each upward jerk of his hips. “Oh my god,” you moan as you enjoy the sensation of your partner, your best friend, Fox Mulder being inside you.

“You feel so- Scully I can’t believe…” he groans into your ear, his whole body rubbing against yours as he bucks against you. The picture frames that are adorning the same wall your body’s been mounted on are shaking with the force of your lovemaking and it takes one falling to the ground with a loud crash for you to remember how this all started.

“Mulder,” you call out. You realize he’s taking it as another cry of pleasure as he responds with ‘fuck yeah’, and you have to say it again. The pleasure in your tone can’t be shaken though, as you tap his shoulder.

“Hmm?” he hums in questioning as he immediately stills inside you.

“Y-your back. You’re sore,” you murmur, as if you really think his back is what he’s thinking of while he’s balls deep in you.

“Fuck my back,” he replies, leaning in to place a kiss to your lips, which you allow for a selfish moment before pulling back.

“No, lay down,” you demand.

He cocks an eyebrow in eager curiosity as he slides out of you and lets you down to your feet. Realistically, you didn’t specify, but part of you is still shocked when he lies down on the hardwood floor. You didn’t specify, and you don’t care. This probably isn’t any better for his back, but seeing him lying in his glory, his erection at full mast, while he looks at you with those eyes has you on your knees and aligning yourself on top of him instantly, stopping only for a moment to shuck off your panties.

He grabs your hips and lets out a slow breath as you lower down onto him. You sit on him, his cock fully plunged inside of you as you reach around yourself to unclasp your bra, earning a “Holy shit, Scully,” as you throw it away from yourself, leaving you bare to him.

You start rocking on him and he lifts his hands to cup and play with the weight of your breasts. You’ve done the same self examination countless times, but it feels so much different with his larger, rougher hands, and you can’t help put lean forward into his touch, encouraging him to knead and pinch them in exploration.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he readjusts his legs into a position where he can meet you thrust for thrust.

One of his hands leaves your breasts and feels the skin of your collarbone, then your neck (you wonder if he can feel your heart thrumming through the thin skin), and continues up until his thumb is stroking your lip.

Locking eyes with him, you draw the digit into your mouth and swirl your tongue around it before hollowing your cheeks. His mouth drops open in pleasure and you trail over the grooves on the pad of his thumb with the tip of your tongue before getting an idea. You release the digit, feeling the trail of saliva connecting your mouth and his thumb snap back lewdly against your chin. “Touch me,” you command, wanting some attention on your screaming clit. You’re so close you can feel it.

He nods and lowers the wet thumb to your bud, putting pressure on it instantly. “Oh fuck,” you scream, letting your palms splay out on his chest as you pick up your pace, snapping your hips against him as rhythmically as you can. He’s swirling against you with fervored intention and you swear you can see stars when you close your eyes.

“Scully, look at me,” he requests, rotating his hips with every upward stroke. With effort, you look down and see pure animalistic lust looking back at you. He wants to see you come and you know it and you’re so, so, so fucking close it’s all you can think about. You can feel his cock plunging into you, he’s so thick and swollen you swear to god you can feel every ridge and vein as he fucks you. His fingers are swirling and pinching your clit and you feel like your sex has a magnet and he’s the negative end your positive end is intrinsically drawn to but yet you feel like you can never possibly be close enough to him. He’s still working your breasts with his free hand and you feel like you’ve never had so many places on your body feeling so much pleasure at once and it’s overwhelming. But then you really see the way he’s looking at you, the adoration in his eyes, and then overwhelming is exactly what it is.

And you’re coming.

Hard.

You feel like your whole body is experiencing riptides of pleasure originating at the point you both meet and rippling through every cell of your body. You’re quivering, you’re shaking, you’re pulsing, you’re orgasming so hard you can’t even hear anything.

You see as much as you feel Mulder come with you. His eyes widen as his jaw drops sensually. He’s still pumping into you, at a rapid pace and you can feel his come spurting into you and being pulled down with his thrusts, spilling out of you and coating his cock.

When the aftershocks are done, you collapse forward, still with him inside of you, and bury your head into the crook of his neck, trying your best to steady your breathing. “Wow,” you gasp against his skin.

You feel his hands come up and stroke your spine lovingly and your whole body rises and falls with his breaths and your own until they sync up and slow. “I stand by what I said earlier,” he murmured tiredly.

“Hmm?” she replied in kind.

“You’re really good at that,” he chuckled, hugging her close to his sweaty body.

She placed a kiss to his shoulder and nuzzled against him. “You should see what I can do in a bed.”

#gaycrouton #my fanfiction #msr #mulder #scully #smut #x files fanfiction #x files #xf

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ckret2 · 4 years

Note

How long does it take for you to write a story (not oneshots but like multi-chaptered shit or just a very lengthy one chapter) and how much do you research and map it out? Is researching fun, tedious or exhausting for you?

It depends on how long the story is! “Man Of Dreams” on FFnet, about 108k, I wrote in uhhh, I’ve been saying “about a month” for years but I don’t remember exactly how long I spent where writing it was my primary project, but I DID write it over one summer break and spent about another month proofing it. “The Cop & the Cryptid,” about 130k, I wrote in about a month and a half and proofed over a few weeks. (That’s not counting the time those fics were with betas.) Cold Day In Hell, at 24k, took me... god, idk when I started it. Maybe a couple weeks, week and a half? I’m pretty sure I didn’t have time to start it until NaNoWriMo ended on Nov 30, and I posted it Dec 13, so.

If you want to see exactly how much I map out a long fic, you can directly compare “The Cop & the Cryptid” to its outline. In a lot of places you can go paragraph-by-paragraph in the fic and find a corresponding line/sentence in the outline. TC&TC is 130k, and its outline alone is 40k.

I was able to write the outline super fast because it’s incredibly goofy. When I write an outline, I just ramble it out at a couple friends in a chat room, and i can write like 10k a day if all I’m doing is rambling. And then, once I have that outline, I can also write the fic super fast, because I’ve already written the fic, I just need to make it sound like a fic instead of like i’m gossiping about someone’s weird workplace drama that i overhead. So even though in total I’ve written 170k between the outline and the fic, it goes a lot faster than if I’d just tried to sit down and write the 130k fic all by itself, because the first time i’m only worrying about plot but don’t have to worry about word choice and the second time i’m only worrying about word choice but don’t have to worry about plot. When I was writing TC&TC, I literally had the screen split between the outline and the actual fic, and just glanced back and forth going line by line on the outline and expanding it into proper narration & dialogue and tweaking as needed as I went.

And jeez, how much do I research. That is a difficult question because like. I’m constantly researching. If I get a tiny seed of an idea for a detail in a story, and I don’t know whatever I need to know in order to write that, my next instinct IMMEDIATELY is to look up whatever it is I need to look up in order to know enough to write that thing.

Example: when I was writing “You Made That?” and decided this giant frigging pteranodon was going to blow glass using a volcano as the oven, I had to go look up how exactly blowing glass works, because like, I know Apply Heat To Sand, but I wanted to be realistic, I wanted to know what kind of sand Rodan would have to get and what other ingredients. And because of that research I discovered that the lava in volcanoes isn’t actually hot enough to melt glass. And then I discovered that the lava in volcanoes isn’t hot enough to melt lava. The mantle where rocks melt into magma isn’t hot enough to melt rocks. And then I spent the next five hours feverishly trying to find out first how rocks melt into magma if they’re not hot enough to melt, and then how the hell humans got fires hot enough to melt glass back when all they had was wood fires to work with. And I read a lot of very academic papers about volcanoes and glassmaking with a lot of words that I had to go look up, because I have not studied either of these fields, except to the extent that I’ve learned about volcanoes in order to write about Rodan.

(The super simplified answer, for those of you who are now going to be haunted by the thought that the mantle isn’t hot enough to melt the rocks that it clearly is melting: the melting point of a rock gets lower when a) it’s mixed with water, or b) the amount of pressure on it is suddenly reduced. As rocks in the mantle are pushed upward toward the crust, water from the surface gets sucked underwater that mixes with the rocks, and the pressure on the rocks is decreased because it’s now closer to the surface/has less weight pushing down on it; and both of these things combined lower the melting point of the rocks enough that they can melt into magma. Then, once it’s on the surface, it’s no longer mixed with water and the pressure is stabilized rather than decreasing, so the melting point of the rock increases again and it solidifies. And you can melt glass with a wood fire by, first, putting it in a little oven so that none of the heat escapes, and second, blowing air over it at the EXACT right speed so that it maximizes the amount of oxygen reaching the wood fire and makes it burn hotter but doesn’t go so fast that it blows some of the heat away. Trying to maximize the heat of a wood fire in an oven like that is all about trying to hit the exact balance between “add more oxygen” and “don’t blow away heat” where you reach the point where the fire is as hot as you can mathematically make it.)

And like once I knew that, I just made sure that Rodan had a makeshift oven in order to contain heat and the ability to blow air over the fire to make it hotter and bam story’s done.

And like... nobody was making me do that. I needed a tiny factoid for the story, and I was possessed by an all-consuming hunger to obtain that factoid and nothing could drag me from my course until I’d obtained it. I didn’t need to know how the mantle melts rocks, but like... I needed to know how the mantle melts rocks.

Sometimes when I do research it’s like that, I know I need a specific factoid and I go out and find it; sometimes it’s more general, like, “oh, one of the characters I’m dealing with worked in the radio industry in the 1930s, what was that like?” and when I’ve got spare time or am bored I go read up on the history of radio, even though I don’t need it right now, but because I don’t know what I’m gonna need until I need it. What if it turns out that people who worked in the radio industry in the 1930s, like, carried around forks for good luck? Then I can say this character carries a fork everywhere and that’s a weird character detail I never would’ve gotten if I hadn’t done the research even if I didn’t know I needed it. (Note: to my knowledge, there is no association between lucky forks and the radio industry. I made up this example to illustrate the kind of thing you can’t possibly know you don’t know unless you’ve already done the research without looking for a fact like that.)

And sometimes research flows into each other. Like for one thing I needed to know what a traditional radio sign-off format sounded like, back when radio stations turned off at night and played the national anthem before they went dark; and because I was looking that up, I found a YouTube video talking about how a radio station in 1939 recorded an entire day of broadcasts, so now I know I can go look that up and listen to an entire day on one radio station in the 30s and learn a lot more about how radio broadcasts sounded within a few years of the timeframe I’m working with for the above character. I wasn’t looking for that when I was looking up radio sign offs, but because I have that it’s gonna be hella useful.

So, like, tl;dr: I research a lot. I research anything that crosses my mind as something I want to put in a story that I don’t already know enough about to write about. I research for tiny details and I pre-research big broad concepts that might be relevant to my stories later. My research leads to more research, and prior research tells me about things I can look into on future research. The research never ever ends. There is a whole amazing world out there with billions of people alive and that’s only counting the people alive right now, not all the people that were alive before, and ALL of those people were Doing Stuff and Creating Things and Making Discoveries and ALL of it connects together and you’ve gotta understand all of it, the whole universe and everything in it, all of the science and every single human achievement, before you can write a story.

But failing that you’ve gotta at least understand whatever’s surrounding your characters.

If I try to write without research like that, it kind of feels like trying to solve a jigsaw puzzle with only 20% of the pieces. I am annoyed and dissatisfied that I don’t know those things.

The argument against that much research is typically “oh if you’re writing sci fi/fantasy you can just make that stuff up” but let me tell you, the creativity of one single human writer will never match the creativity of tens of thousands of hardworking humans trying to make a discovery or accomplish a task. One single human writer all alone will never be able to match the fascinating weird details of the real world and all the things we’ve put into it or discovered in it. If you try to make all that stuff up—like, if you’re writing high fantasy and you just make up how forging a sword works—then you have shackled yourself to the limits of your own imagination. If you do the research, dig into how actual swords are made in the real world, then you have supplemented your own creativity with the creativity of however many humans over the millennia have contributed to that craft. There’s so much interesting stuff out there. And I am bound and determined to find it.

#anonymous #ask #writing #about my writing

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mythiica · 5 years

Text

Reader x Shingen Takeda - By Your Side

Title: By Your Side

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Character: Shingen Takeda

Genre: angst, romance, fluff, fucking slow burn and im proud of it

Warnings: Minor spoilers

Intended Gender Audience: Female audience

Word Count: 3097 words (holy shit)

Shameless self promo: My dA has a lot more than my tumblr... I’m working on it

Other comments: Slight spoilers if you havent been up to chapter 5 of his route ; some of it is fictional and idk if it happens in his route, but i will specify that in the description ; don’t read if you dont want any spoilers

Shingen reacted faster than you did, jumping in front of you at the last millisecond so that the arrow landed in his shoulder rather than in your heart. He crumbled before you nearly immediately, clutching the arrow by the hilt to pull it out.

You screamed and fell to your knees, trying to slap his hands away. “Stop it! If you take it out, it’ll bleed.”

He grunted and pushed you away once he saw the blood on your hands from trying to help. “It’s poisoned, if I don’t take it out, I’ll die slowly. Would you rather me die slowly and painfully, over the course of a month? Or quickly but with mercy?” With a guttural groan, the yanked the arrow out but immediately covered the wound with one of the piece of fabric dangling from his uniform.

“You’re already dying!” you scream at the top of your lungs.

His eyes flashed open, regret and sadness pooling in his charcoal eyes.

You ripped the sleeve of your kimono and wrapped it around his chest to stop the bleeding as much as possible. “Yukimura told me… you have pneumonia. And it’s killing you.” Gripping his arm, you helped im up slowly to get him on his horse.

“(Y/n)...”

“Don’t say anything. You’ll just kill yourself faster,” you scold him firmly. You’re very angry with Shingen, but above that, you just want him to be okay.

He gives you a flirtatious smile when your hand lands on his thigh after you help him onto the horse. “Wandering someplace when I’m partially immobilized? Not that I’m complaining… I just didn’t think you’d be so forward.”

“Shingen” you warn.

“Maybe I should have revealed of my sickness earlier… you’d have cared for me like you are now…”

When you shoot him a glare, he only laughs, but then clutches his side and begins coughing violently. He slumps forward with a moan, not able to sit up straight anymore. You kick off your slippers as you remove the outermost and thickest layer of your elaborate outfit.

Shingen watches you from the corner of his eye, struggling to find a witty comment to make about you removing your clothes. “Maybe save that for another night? I wouldn’t usually decline a beautiful goddess as yourself, but I’m in a bit of a-”

“Shut up already,” you scoff as you put your foot in the stirrup and swing your other leg. With one hand holding the reigns, you force Shingen’s semi-limp arms around your body so that he doesn’t fall off the horse on the way back to the castle. You don’t need to tell him to keep his hands above the equator, because he’s drifting in and out of consciousness with every passing moment.

The forest scenery whizzes past you, but you pull back sharply when you see a shadow to the right. You’re worried that it’s Nobunaga or someone else that would try to stop you. You weren’t exactly in the shape for fighting off a feudal warlord, especially with an injured one to protect as well.

“(Y/n)!” a familiar voice called. Yukimura appeared out of the trees, his clothes saturated with blood – hopefully not his. “I saw you flee with Lord Shingen!”

“How much farther to the castle?”

He turned around and motioned. “Not much, come on!”

You’re relieved to see the faint glow of the castle, and arrive only a few minutes later. As you dismount, a few vassals lift Shingen from the horse and rush him to a nearby room to tend to his wounds. He groans and shifts, making the bleeding suddenly worse as it soaked through the dirty layers of stained fabric. His arm fell limp as a soft breathe escaped his lips and his eyes closed.

He melted into unconsciousness and you found yourself crying for his safety. You took a step forward to follow them, but Sasuke held you back.

“Let me go! We can help him, we know things from the fu-”

But Sasuke covered your mouth with a hand. “If this is history repairing itself for the damage we have already done, then we cannot interfere or we might cease to exist,” he explains solemnly.

You choked back tears, not completely understanding how concerned you were about him. “H-He can’t die…”

Sasuke pulled you into a hug to calm you. “He’s strong. He’ll be alright…”

You sat at the door of Shingen’s room for probably an hour until Sasuke forced you to bathe and change your bloodied clothes. You only ate under the circumstances that someone tell you immediately when Shingen was stabilized.

Despite being very tired, you did not dare go to sleep.

After eating, you sat in front of Shingen’s room and waited for any news. Another two hours crawled by before Keshin slipped out. He nearly stepped on you, but then apologized immediately.

“Yukimura told me what happened… He protected you, and he’s there because of you now.”

You wiped your eyes and stood up. With all the conviction you could muster, you pointed an angry finger at Kenshin and scolded him. “I didn’t ask him to catch an arrow for me! But I did what I could and I immediately brought him back here so that he could get the medical attention he needed. I couldn’t bear to watch him die, so he is in there because of me! You were busy fulfilling your blood lust on the battlefield that you didn’t arrive until an hour ago. Don’t lecture me about Shingen, because I already feel guilty about it.”

Kenshin’s eyes widened at your words and felt bad about making you cry again. He pulled out a small cloth from the depths of his uniform and offered it to you.

“Don’t cry over Shingen. He might think that you’re in love with him…” He turned away to leave, but then called over his shoulder, “You can go in and stay with him. For now…”

You nearly ran into the wall, forgetting that a door separated you from Shingen. Inside though, you found wads of red towels, needles scattered over the mats, and fresh bandages.

Shingen was still unconscious, but his breathing was laboured and sweat glistened on his skin. You sit on your knees and take his hand in yours – Shingen’s breathing slows down, and he mumbles something you can’t hear.

The moon waned slowly, and before you knew it, morning arrived. You tended to him throughout the night, rewrapping his bandages for him when someone would come to check on him. The doctors were rather surprised by how nimble you were with your hands were.

As dawn’s light filtered through the doors, you curled up next to Shingen as he shivered from running a fever. He trembled uncontrollably, so you placed your hand over his broad chest, directly on his heart. It seemed to comfort him, as his breathing once again steadied to a normal beat.

A gentle sleep claimed you without protest, and you had awful nightmares of waking up to Shingen dead.

You shot up abruptly at one point, and after coming to your senses, you immediately checked on Shingen. He was right next to you, breathing shallowly like he had been a few hours ago.

It’s night again, which meant you had slept through an entire day without being disturbed. His hair was matted with sweat, but his eyebrows were relaxed and made him look younger in a way. You took a moment to admire the soft bend in his nose that contrasted from his sharp jawline. He looked so handsome, even if you tried to deny it.

“Shingen?” you asked softly.

He did not respond, meaning he was still unconscious, or really good at pretending to be asleep.

You tapped his arm gently. “Shingen?”

But he still did not reply.

A sigh escaped your lips as you settled your head back down in the crook of his arm.

But you don’t remember his arm being extended when you went to sleep. It was next to his body… had he moved it subconsciously because he got a cramp?

Shrugging it off, you closed your eyes and drifted back off to sleep, slightly comforted by the sound of his breathing and heartbeat.

When you woke up again, it’s not sudden. Your eyes fluttered open and immediately met Shingen’s half-lidded eyes. He wore his infamous smile, but did not say anything.

You spent a few minutes, just staring at each other.

You didn’t want to ruin the moment, and neither did he.

But you cleared your throat and scooted back from him a bit. Cold wrapped around you immediately, no longer close to his warm body.

“You’re awake… thank goodness…”

Shingen tried to sit up, but winces as he bent his body.

“S-Stop, you’ll break the stitches!” You sat up and placed a firm hand on his chest to keep him down.

“Princess…”

You gaze relocked with his.

“You saved me.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you with an arrow in your chest in the middle of a battlefield.”

He laughed, but it came out strained. “You very well could have. And you could have run back to Oda, or someone else from there. Why didn’t you?”

You struggled to reply. “I… uh…”

Shingen cupped his hand over yours as it still lingered on his chest.

Part of you wanted to continue to deny everything you feel for him, but a voice protested at that thought. How much longer could you resist him? You’d basically given yourself up when you took it upon yourself to stay by his side for two days after he was injured. Even if Shingen did not know that, it was only a matter of time, and it seemed like Kenshin and Yukimura already knew your feelings.

“(Y/n)?”

His voice made your heart melt, and tears prickled in your eyes. Gripping his shirt, you let your hair fall over your face to obscure the fact that you had again started to cry.

“I couldn’t lose you… I don’t know what type of Stockholm Syndrome voodoo you’ve done to me, but I can’t explain it… I just know that I couldn’t leave you there. I had to make sure you were okay…”

Shingen looked at you, confused by some of the terms you used, but his hand migrated up to your cheek as he tucked your hair behind your ears. “It makes me very happy to hear that, (Y/n).”

The tenderness in his voice was nothing like his flirty personality. This was genuine, as if you were the only person in the world with him.

You completely burst into tears. “But you didn’t tell me you were sick! Why do you push yourself?” you demand, wringing out the fabric in your clenched fist.

“I’m a warlord, we are defined by our territories and by our powe-”

“But what if you die?!”

You were leaning over his chest, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks and splattered onto him. He lifted his other hand to cup your face, and his thumbs gently stroked away the tears as they fell.

“Would be sad if I died?”

You open your eyes and freeze.

Yes.

Where is the will to voice it though?

You want to scream it, but something holds you back.

He sees you, troubled by this, and pulls your face down slightly, closer to his. “(Y/n)?”

The way he said your name – the sadness in his voice made the reality of the situation so much more clear to you. Even if you were from a different time, and even if he was destined to die, you couldn’t hold back anymore. It wasn’t fair to either of you at this point. Shingen had invested so much in you, and you in him.

“Y-Yes,” you confess. “If you died…”

Shingen waited eagerly for your words, his heart racing furiously.

“If you died,” you choked back more tears at the thought of it, “I’d never leave this room again… I’d never sew again, and I’d never smile again!”

“But you have a beautiful smile…”

You felt a grin tugging at your lips as you scoffed. “But you’ve never seen m-”

Even with a high fever from a poisonous arrow, immense blood loss, and with a terrible case of pneumonia pushing him closer to death, he still managed to trick you and win his age old bet. You had completely forgotten about it in the moment.

His smile returned and his hand reached the back of your neck. “There... it is…”

“I suppose that means you’ve won-”

“I suppose it does.”

You bit your lip slightly, but were taken aback by the next thing he says. “I only made that bet because I wanted to be the only person your shared your smile with.”

“What about the kiss?”

He shook his head. “I’m not a pervert. I would never force a goddess as yourself to kiss a broken and beaten human like myself. I’m not worth your lips.”

You released his shirt and place a hand on his jaw.

Shingen’s eyes lit up with hope. He meant what he said, but that didn’t mean you can’t find a loophole.

“I’m no goddess… You just say that to tease me.”

“You’re the most beautiful goddess, (Y/n). And you’ve saved me so many times without knowing it.”

His words pained you deeply, but also made your heart flutter. You leaned forward, until your face was only a few centimeters away from his. You felt his hot breath on your lips, as if he were continuing to tease you.

You tugged on his lip gently, closed your eyes, and let yourself kiss him.

The kiss was slow at first, the two of your savouring the moment before your hands tangled in his hair and you pulled him closer to you. Despite lacking much energy, Shingen matched the passion in the kiss, his arm snaking around your waist to grip on to you tightly to ensure that you wouldn’t disappear suddenly. His tongue pressed against your lips and pried your mouth open until it wrapped around your own tongue. You moaned into the kiss, the vibrations making him taste better somehow.

He sat back slightly to catch his breath – in the moment you completely forgot that he was sick. You wanted to continue kissing him; you wanted to kiss his beautifully sharp jaw, and that soft bend in his nose. You wanted to bless the sad bags under his eyes that take away from how handsome he is, and you wanted to kiss his hands that feels so perfect on your waist.

Shingen licked his lips, relishing in his victory silently before turning his head slightly to smile at you. “A kiss from a goddess… better than I could ever dream…”

His muscles relaxed slightly, but he still kept a protective hand on you.

You’re not worried about him, he’s just exhausted his energy because he’s still feverish. So you lie with him, cupping your hand over his chest like you had earlier. As he drifted off to sleep, you kissed his cheek and jaw gently for good luck in a way. You knew that everything would be alright.

The next morning, you woke up to Kenshin’s worried face. “For a minute, I thought that he might have given you his fever, but good thing you’re awake. Shingen’s doing better already, and as much as he didn’t want to leave you, I thought it was unfitting for him to continue to sleep drenched in sweat and blood.” “Where is he?”

“In the garden, waiting for you. I’ve brought a change of clothes as well, so you may go and see him.”

Kenshin seemed more relaxed, so you assumed that Shingen had said something.

As if he read your mind, Kenshin cleared his throat. “I heard some of your conversation last night.”

You immediately blushed.

“I apologize for being harsh on you. I can see now that your relationship with him is pure and makes him happy.”

“Thank you,” you said as you accepted the clothing.

“Best not keep him waiting though.”

As he left, you called out. “Is he going to be okay though? I doubt that he would tell me the truth if I asked him.”

Kenshin smiled. Genuinely. “He calls you a goddess… and there may be some truth to that because he’s doing quite well. The signs of the pneumonia are fading rapidly, and he seems to be breathing clearer than before he fell ill.”

With an elated heart you changed as quickly as you could so you could see him sooner. The kimono was beautiful – so you tied your hair up and pinned with an equally gorgeous clip before applying the slightest bit of rouge to your lips and cheeks.

Gathering your skirt in your hand, you ran out of the room and down the open corridors to the garden. You heard Shingen’s laugh before you turned the corner, and it only made you run faster.

He sat in a chair and conversated with Yukimura and Sasuke. With the beautiful scenery behind him, your heart swelled with happiness – to see him laughing and smiling so carelessly with his friends. There were two empty seats; one for you and one for Kenshin.

Shingen saw you from the corner of his eye and then turned to face you. He stands up slowly from his chair as you jump off the few steps and walk quickly towards him, not wanting to run and trip. His arms were stretched outwards, and you basically leaped onto him.

Just like Kenshin has said, he seemed like a changed person – no illness to hold him back. His strong arms wrapped around you and lifted you off the ground slightly.

Just like last night, you wanted to kiss him ridiculously, but decided to restrain yourself in presence of others.

Kenshin cleared his throat, and Shingen set you down gently. The three of you took your seats and began to eat the lavish food sprawled across the table.

Sasuke and Yukimura talked about what to do about Nobunaga and the others with Shingen inputting every so often. His hand fell under the table and caught your own hand before he locked his fingers with yours.

You didn’t know what the future would hold – with Nobunaga or with returning home to your own time period.

All you knew was that everything would be alright, as long as Shingen was by your side.

#ikemen sengoku #readerinsert #fanfic #takeda shingen #ikesen #ikesenshingen

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01010010-posts · 6 years

Text

— nightmare's insomnia.

requests: Hi! I love all your writings!! c: soooo... this morning I woke from a bad dream about Connor getting hurt (I believe Gavin did it) I woke just after it happened and was really upset I didn't have connor there to comfort me... maybe you could do a post about all three of them all there to comfort you when you wake up?? If you want... omg I'm sorry for rambling. Have a nice day!!!💖

HeyA! You might get this alot- but just wanted to add to the list lmao. Your writing is amAZEBALLS! I love how your so laid back in your writing and its HILARIOUS how you express the RK's!! so; if you don't mind, can I request some fluff about the reader having trouble seeping ((cuz that's legit what's going on now lol)) and the RK's are being adorable and protective as always? You don't have to if you don't wanna, but no harm in asking :) Thanks!

disclaimer – don’t fucking watch tv if you can’t sleep JUST DON’T OKAY IT WILL MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE SHIT NO VERY BRIGHT PHONE EITHER BABIES don’t listen to RK800-60 he’s the fucking fren that tells you that yes punching a road sign at twoAM and drinking carbonated drinks is a fucking reasonable thing to do just because me: idk if fusing them was a good thing or not but i liked the idea mhhhhHHmmH also me: taking advantage of kind people that said that i make funny headcanons and making the fluff that they asked for but putting a lot of stupidity in it i’m sorry it’s just who i am as a person

Connor:

• he very much likes ‘sleeping’ with you so he’s always in rest mode when it’s night • and he doesn’t notice that you’re awake bc you’ve had a nightmare • you stay in silence for something like five minutes but • but then you guiltily tug the hem of his t-shirt • and he slowly wakes up • he sheepishly smiles at you and asks what’s wrong • aaaah but now you feel so guilty • you just hug him and hide your head against his chest • he giggles a little and hugs you back • he starts stroking your hair • “what’s wrong?” he asks again • you mutter something that he doesn’t understand • “mh? I can’t hear you like this, [name]” • doesn’t he fucking have dolby surround newest audio processor or something • “i said that i can’t sleep” • “and why is that?” • “i had a nightmare” • he hums a tiny bit and kisses your head • “do you want to tell me?” • you don’t want to but you begrudgingly do so • “i dreamt about you getting hurt” • he laughs a little and hugs you more tightly this time • “you know that i always upload my memory so i’d come back like nothing happened. of course i’d need some repairs but nothing that a CyberLife technician can’t handle” • “yeah but…. in the dream you didn’t come back” • oh, that’s…. • he presses his lips firmly without saying anything • and just continues cuddling you • “can we stay awake tonight? please?” • he shakes his head a little, smiling again now • “i can go to work tomorrow even if i don’t ‘rest’ tonight but what about you?” • “don’t worry about me! please please please!” • if you say please one more time he’s gonna melt • “and, if we stay awake, i said if mind you [name], what would you like to do?” • “mmmh we can…. we can watch tv! that series that you like very much!” • he raises a questioningly brow at you • but in the end he gives up • and turns on the tv with his super android powers

RK900:

• since he’s an advanced model he doesn’t need to recharge that much • and since he’s a sucker for you he doesn’t go into standby mode every night • actually watching your sleeping face is more satisfying than ‘resting’ • and he gets to hug you and kiss you so??? • 100% worth it • but when you wake up in the middle of the night? • your face a sweaty mess • he becomes very worried • his LED is fucking crimson • he lets his grasp on you falls lose just in case you need air • he also waits for you to calm down • and when you’re done he gently asks you what’s wrong • “i had this fucking nightmare i– it was so vivid.” you whisper still scared • and he honestly doesn’t know how to react • dreams and nightmares alike are beyond his comprehension • they are such an abstract concept • all of his knowledge on this kind of things it’s from your experience so • so he just does what he knows best: cuddles you • and he’s so gentle, like you are made of stained glass • he kisses and hugs you as long as you need • he murmures sweet nothings into your ears • even when his software tells him that your heartbeat has stabilized long ago he doesn’t stop pampering you • he behaves like this bc he wants you to feel better • but also because he’s so scared of something bad happening to you • even if it’s just a dream • “you should sleep now, don’t worry, i’ll be here for you during the night.” • you know he will be there, awake • “i don’t want to” you pout • and he snorts a little, relieved now, because you’ve returned to your usual self • “what are you, a human child?” • “what if i am?” • that’s a dangerous game you’re playing there little brat • “very well then i’ll stop kissing you since kissing a human child might not be seen as an appropriate action.” • !! fuck he’s really smart • “since when do you care about what humans deem ‘appropriate’?” you smirk • oKAY YOU MAY HAVE WON THIS ROUND BUT IT WAS JUST STROKE OF LUCK • and he smiles a little and kisses your temple “but you need to work tomorrow” • “i’ll just drink some coffee” • he sighs because you drink too much coffee but • “then what would you like to do?” • just tell him whatever the fuck you want to do • do you see how weak he is for you? • he’s letting you awake for almost an entire night i mean he’s putty in your hands • you could tell him that you want to watch ‘magnum, p.i.’ and he’ll be ‘alright’ • ofc course the next morning you’re a mess of a sleepy person but?? worth it • he teases you and makes you sleep early the same night

RK800-60:

• you would think that he ‘sleeps’ every night • i mean since he likes humans things so much • and since he’s just so hyperactive • but no, he just charges when he needs to • he actually prefers being with you in complete silence • he likes to occupy the time by replaying the day in his head • sometimes if he’s really helpless and replaying everything it’s not enough he just gets up • and starts to do things • he might or might not try to prepare your breakfast at 4AM • or will start to do chores like laundry or cleaning • but in the end he returns to bed like a tired kitty before you wake up so you don’t get startled first thing in the morning • so when he hears you fumbling on the bed he sticks his head out and looks into the dark bedroom • you’re awake!! • i mean bad human! you should sleep! • he smiles widely and gets on the bed • but his smile turns into a frown very quickly • “is everything all right, baby?” • “not quite” • and he kicks his slippers off and curls up with you • “what’s wrong?” • “i had a bad dream” • he bites his lips and makes a sad face • “i’m sorry about that” • he rubs your back while you softly nod • “do you want me to make you some chamomile? with honey maybe? it’ll help you sleep again” • “i don’t want to sleep again tonight….” you grumble • you said the magic words • “but you have work tomorrow morning” that’s a weak protest • “i know but…. pretty please?” • do you need to say more? come on it’s him • he kisses you • and then disappears into the kitchen • and then you hear it!! you hear popcorns popping • he comes back grinning • “two minutes and they’re ready, what do you want to watch, sweetie?”

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scramblingminds · 6 years

Photo

Anon, why you do this to me???! I tried to bring the angst but idk so I hope this is what you were hoping for. Enjoy.

Make Peace

It had taken months for things to stabilize after the war. Over the course of only a few days so much got destroyed. Alexandria was nearly reduced to ash and the Hilltop took a fair share of damage but stayed standing. For weeks people from the different communities drifted around, working to rebuild walls and homes. Then it took even longer to get back to trading, since so much of the crops and livestock had been lost.

Somehow, they all managed to survive and life seemed to go on. Ezekiel found the strength to lead again after being taken captive by the Saviors, Carol being at his side seemed to be a large part of it. Maggie was perfect for leadership at Hilltop, she got her hands dirty in every way possible so that it could go back to its former glory. Rick stepped back after Negan was locked away, Carl easily falling into his place and making sure Alexandria was revived.

Daryl had a hard time after, finding a place for his anger. Even after the Saviors surrendered and Dwight took over Daryl just wanted them dead. He knew it couldn't be like that though, a certain ninja made that very clear to him. Slowly, his rage slipped away. It helped to have things to do; rebuild the wall and houses, go on runs to help restock all the pantries across the communities and when one Hilltop resident moved to Alexandria permanently.

It started before the war, in the days after the satellite station. Paul Rovia managed to slide so easily into his life and make him remember feelings he thought he forgot a while back. Paul made him feel good, like he wasn't just a bundle of raw nerves waiting for the next thing to screw up. He made him feel like he was actually able to do the right thing, like letting the Saviors live even after all they did.

Daryl had a feeling that he loved the man even before the real Negan showed up. Those emotions got put on the back burner for a while though. Daryl was focused on not falling to pieces after what happened that morning in that clearing and then when he was in the Sanctuary. Paul was still there through it all, he didn't back away when Daryl snapped or flinched away from touch at times.

Daryl figured that meant maybe Paul loved him too. You had to love someone if you stay by them when you deserved them the least. Daryl often thought Paul deserved more than his twitchy personality and short fuse but Paul didn't leave. That's why it was so easy, that morning after huddling in the tunnels then sneaking to Hilltop, for Daryl to march right up to the scout and kiss him.

They all could die at any moment, there was no sense in denying how they felt. Paul had leaned into it without hesitation, hands coming up to hold the back of Daryl's neck as if to dare him to break the kiss too soon. Paul didn't fight when Daryl told him he had to go after that, Rick needed him and they had to go back into the trenches.

Paul had just kissed him again, long and deep. He didn't tell him to be careful or stay safe or to even come back to him. He didn't need to, Daryl could feel it in how tight he gripped his wrist before letting him go. Daryl wasn't safe or careful but he did come back, Paul took what he could get and that was a bloody Daryl Dixon. Which didn't seem to bother him in the least.

After Alexandria had some life back Paul showed up one day. He had a duffle bag on his back and a smile on his face when he moved himself into Daryl's room. Daryl didn't even question him on it, he just cleared a drawer and let him know the side of the bed near the door was his. They never really had a conversation about it but after that it was clear they were together.

Over time all Daryl's hurt and anger was replaced by the warmth the scout brought in. Daryl never took himself to be the touchy feely or romantic type but somehow with Paul it just came naturally. Paul was a physical person, he reached out for hands or patted shoulders often. Daryl wasn't like that with anyone save for his closest family and then Paul.

So, when Paul came up to see him on his watch Daryl didn't think anything of slipping his arm around his shoulders. Paul was leaving soon for a run with Tara, Rosita and Aaron while Daryl had watch until midafternoon. Paul leaned into his side, leeching some of the larger man's warmth. Winter was fast approaching and the days were getting shorter and chillier.

"I hope we can find some good coats today," Paul twisted around to tuck into Daryl leather jacket, "Some thermal underwear would be good too."

Daryl snorted as he looked over Paul's head as the scout nuzzled into his neck, "Thought ya were some kinda badass but yer bellyaching about a little cold air."

"I am a badass," Paul leaned back just enough to mock glare at the redneck, "I just prefer to be a warm one."

Daryl shook his head, chuckling when Paul leaned forward to nip at the hinge of his jaw. Daryl reached up tugging his beanie down on his forehead getting a grunt of protest. Daryl squeezed him when Paul tried to wiggle away. Daryl grinned as Paul played at pouting up at him before leaning in to kiss his nose. It was a bit cold so Daryl repeated the gesture, not missing how Paul smiled and melted into him.

Daryl trailed his lips over Paul's cheek, nuzzling into his beaded jaw and Paul just pressed closer with a content sigh. They both jumped at the loud wolf whistle that came from below them. Their faces went hot as they pulled apart enough to look down and see Rosita smirking with Tara and Aaron trying to conceal they were giggling like school girls.

"Time to go, loverboy." Rosita jerked her thumb at the cars they hadn't notice pulling up to the gate.

Paul stepped back, fixing his beanie as Daryl dipped forward to give him one more kiss to the corner of his mouth, "See ya later, Paul."

Paul smiled softly as he moved to climb down the ladder, "We'll be back before dark, I'll meet you at home."

Daryl nodded watching him reach the ground and go to the car with Tara behind the wheel while the other two got in the second car. Paul paused just long enough to wave up at him as the gate was opened for them. Daryl waved back as he climbed in and soon they were heading down the road. Daryl leaned against the wall, watching them fade away and admitting to only himself that he really wouldn't mind some thermals.

----------------------------

Daryl was a bit on edge when it got to be dinner time. The sun was creeping closer and closer to the horizon but they still weren't back. Rick and Michonne could see the tension in him as they ate. Daryl didn't voice anything, he ate and moved to the couch with Judith. He read to her when she shoved a book at him and curled into his lap. Carl was helping Michonne with the dishes when they heard it, the sound of a horn getting closer.

Daryl sat up whispering to Judith, "Go ta yer room like we practiced, ya remember?"

Judith nodded and whispered back, "Yes, Uncle Daryl."

"Good girl," Daryl kissed her temple and nudged her, "Don't move 'til we come get ya."

She nodded again and ran up the stair. He and Rick had been teaching her to go in her room, into her closet and hide to keep her safe. Daryl snatched up his bow running to meet where more than half the Safe Zone was piling around the gate. The horn was getting louder, head light beams pouring up the road.

"It's one of ours!" Scott yelled down and they rushed to get the gate open.

The horn stopped as soon as the car came to a screech halt inside. Aaron was behind the wheel and franticly opened the door. He was covered in blood, his hands shaking as he hurried to get the back door open.

"Someone, help!" Aaron yelled.

Daryl, Rick and Tobin rushed forward. Rosita was sitting in the backseat, more blood drenching her chest and streaking her face, which was set in a hard expression. When they got closer they could see in the dim light the source of the blood.

"PAUL?!" Daryl felt sick. His knees going a little weak and Rick grabbed him to keep him up.

Clutched tight to Rosita was Paul's head, beanie gone and hair one clump of red. He wasn't moving, it barely looked light he was breathing as Aaron and Tobin carefully lifted him from the car. He was limp, face white and soaked with blood.

"Tara went to get Carson," Rosita rushed out of the car, "Get him to the infirmary."

"What happened?" Rick asked as they followed the men carrying the scout.

Daryl didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to fix this. Paul already looked dead as they got him on an exam table. He wanted to grab him but was terrified to touch him. Rosita was grabbing bandages and alcohol off the self before moving to start sifting through Paul's wet hair.

"We had just gotten to a store, it didn't look too bad, only a few walkers but there were people inside, seven of them," Aaron supplied as Rosita revealed a deep gash from his left temple running down behind his ear, "They attacked as soon as we set foot inside."

"They didn't have guns but the ambush was enough to catch us off guard," Rosita cleaned the wound, it was still trickling steadily, "Jesus took out three of them before we even got one each. None of us saw the last guy."

Rosita sniffled, swiping at her cheek uncaring of the blood she left behind as she compressed the wound. Aaron's voice cracked, "Jesus was turning to make sure we were alright then there was a crack and he went down. Guy hit him with something, looked like a cane or piece of wood. He didn't even see the coward."

Daryl could feel his blood boiling. Paul had been protecting the group, which was such his nature and that asshole had snuck up on him. Daryl didn't know he was shaking until Michonne grabbed his hand and squeezed. It wasn't to calm him, that wasn't a possibility but it did help.

"Tara shot the guy and we grabbed Jesus and booked it, Tara should be on the way with Carson by now," Aaron looked over at Daryl, "I'm so sorry, Daryl."

"Did ya hit him?" Daryl looked over to see Aaron shake his head, "Then don't start with that shit, wasn't y'all's fault."

Daryl stayed planted at the end of the bed as everyone started filtering out, giving Rosita space as she tried to slow the bleeding. It was an hour and a trashcan full of gauze later that Carson got there. He took over for the Latina, he whispered to her and she nodded after a moment.

Rosita walked over and linked her arm through Daryl's, looking up at him with big watery eyes as she started pulling him toward the door. He tried to protest, dig his heels in but she shushed him and keep tugging. She closed the door once they were on the other side and Daryl leaned his head against the wood.

"Have faith in Carson, Daryl." Maggie's voice came from behind him, he hadn't even known she had come but it wasn't a surprise.

Daryl didn't have faith in much. He had never been the praying kind or the type who had faith in what he couldn't see. He didn't much believe in people either, not after everything he had been through. Daryl sighed shaking his head as her arms wrapped around his waist.

Daryl could feel her hold him close, her slowly growing bump pressing warmly into his back. Her head resting on his shoulder, not trying to get him to move from the spot. He covered her hand with his as she whispered, "Then believe in Jesus, Daryl."

Daryl swallowed thickly, the pain in his voice plain even to him, "I do."

--------------------------

Carson was frank, he didn't know the extent of the damage. The wound was easy enough to stitch and clean, getting the scout on antibiotics to prevent infection. The trauma wasn't something he could measure. There was swelling but it wasn't as bad as it could have been and Paul was still breathing on his own. Only time would tell and if Paul didn't wake up to eat he would starve, they didn't have the means for a feeding tube and the fluids he was on would only keep him going so long.

"So, what's the odds?" Daryl asked from where he was sitting next to the bed. The room was packed with everyone it seemed as Carson checked Paul's eyes with a light again.

The scout didn't look any better. His skin was just as pale even with the blood cleaned away. Eyelids looking bruised and lips ashen. Carson had to shave the hair around the wound so get to it easier, only about a half inch of bare skin around the bandage.

"Do you want the honest answer or the sugarcoated one?" Carson sighed, rubbing his eyes either from emotion or tiredness or both.

"No bullshit, doc." Daryl felt someone squeeze his shoulder but he didn't even look to see who. His eyes locked on Paul, on the movement of his chest with each slow breath.

Carson nodded clearing his throat, "It would probably be best to not get your hopes up too high. Make peace."

Daryl felt like he had been hit in the chest, his ribcage was crushing in on him but he didn't move to do more than nod. He felt lost, all he wanted was to ask Paul what he was supposed to do but he couldn't. Paul was laying on that little bed with his head bandaged up and who knows what kind of brain damage.

Over the next few days Daryl barely moved from Paul's side, only to use the bathroom. People came and went, some sitting for hours while others briefly expressed their condolences, like Paul was already dead. Daryl didn't say much, even to Maggie or Rick when they came by. Daryl sat through every range of farewell and each one just made him number.

It didn't feel real, every time Daryl passed out in the uncomfortable chair he wondered if he would wake up in bed with Paul sound asleep next to him. He could kiss his whiskered chin and those kaleidoscope eyes would open. Daryl woke up each day with increasingly bad neckache and still shut eyelids.

By the end of the fourth day Daryl was afraid. He didn't want to bury anyone else, he couldn’t lose someone again. Daryl didn't know how to function without Paul now. Paul who could calm him with a touch or rile him up with just a grin. Paul who helped him find the Daryl he almost forgot how to be. Paul who was so strong and selfless and kind and didn't deserve to be taken out by a coward with a stick.

Tara and Aaron had told him in detail how when they got attacked Paul hadn't hesitated to act. Moving ahead of the others, drawing the three men away from the others and swiftly taking care of them. How he turned to see if they needed them, caring about them being safe more than himself. The new world needed people like Paul and Daryl just couldn't accept this.

Daryl scooted his chair up to the side of the bed, his aching body leaning on the edge as he picked up Paul's hand. His fingertips tracing over knuckles and small scars that came from years of training, he kissed the palm, "Don't leave me, please Paul."

Daryl sniffed leaning to rest his head on Paul's thigh, watching his chest rise and fall, "I can't say goodbye anymore, baby. I'm not strong without ya."

Daryl felt the tears dripping onto the white sheet under his head, not caring if anyone came in and saw him. He closed his eyes, squeezing Paul's limp hands, "I don't want to miss ya, too."

------------------------------

Daryl must have fallen asleep because next thing he knew his back was screaming for him to move. He didn't want to though. The fingers combing through his hair was so soothing, trailing down to rub his neck then repeat the motion. All the last days had been was pain and worry and it felt so nice.

After just a few more moments he gave in and blinked slowly, eyes stinging from the overhead light. They took a minute to focus, the hand pausing to cup his cheek and Daryl leaned into it before realizing what he was doing.

It slowly coming to him that no one should be that comfortable petting him, "You look like shit."

Daryl head popped up at the dry, raspy voice that was followed by a hard cough. Daryl locked eyes with seafoam ones, ones he hadn't seen in almost a week. Paul grinned down at him, awake and in need of water and Carson. Daryl moved to grab the bottle by the bed, the scout taking a small grateful sip.

With a trembling hand Daryl cupped Paul's cheek, the smaller man smiling at the touch and this was real "Yer a sight for sore eyes."

#desus #darus #daryl x jesus #daryl dixon #paul rovia #twd #prompt fill #angst #i tried

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prongsno · 7 years

Note

I have another prompt if this isn't to much to ask 😬 but conceive this: an au where Lily and James run away to Vegas (or the England version of Vegas idk) and get married. They are dating a couple of months and it's a spur of a moment thing but at the same time it's so righhhhht

Dusty With Starlight | ao3

It’s a hot day in July when he takes her hand and asks her where she wants to go.

Anywhere, she says breathlessly.

She grips hold of his shirt, afraid he’s going to disappear right in front of her and pulls him close.

He’s always been her anchor, keeping her sane and giving her that stability and motivation. He’s the hope she has in the world. And, as she stares up at him with stars in her eyes, she could go anywhere as long as she’s with him. He’s dizzy just staring at her, she’s so enchanting and breathtaking that he still can’t quite understand why she’s even happy being with him.

He pales in comparison but it feels right with her hand in his, with her sweet lips and kisses that could melt ice caps and make mountains crumble.

He’s an avalanche and she’s the one lone cause.

The sun’s hot against their backs, but they entwine their fingers together like they never want to part. Sweet whispers and trickles of laughter, fluttering hands and that feeling of lightheadedness when it feels just so good.

He’s kissing her again, and he doesn’t care that it’s the fifteenth time already.

“Marry me,” He breathes against her lips.

It’s only a faint murmur, so quiet that for a moment he doesn’t even realise that the words dropped out at all.

It’s the adrenaline and the woozy-wobbly state of his mind when he’s with her, but he doesn’t regret saying it for a second.

And when she opens her eyes he has to hold his breath because it’s like the brightest, softest, emerald green and he’s still not used to it after all this time.

He shivers against her, unsteady even though they’re sat by the pavilion.

“Okay.”

There’s no mistaking her reply.

Even though the waves are crashing in front of them as they stare out to sea… even though seagulls are everywhere and holler at pedestrians for some of their fish and chips… even though his heart beats, thundering against his chest as she smiles up at him. Her voice is set, definitive and clear compared to the rest of his world which is driven by chaos and madness.

It feels right.

They feel right.

There’s no worries or ifs or buts or maybes.

Just them and the future that’s ahead.

“Let’s do it,” She says, putting one last chip in her mouth before standing.

She wipes the back of her dress, her feet itching to move.

He stares at her, a massive grin widening onto his face.

“Now?” He laughs, elated.

There’s no need for an answer.

She offers out a hand and he takes it without a second delay.

They’re already up, leaving their fish and chips abandoned by the pier and running as they chase the waves.

The seagulls can eat their leftovers.

They have a plane to catch.

“Are you sure about this?”

James Potter was always one for asking questions at the worst possible times.

The plane’s just set off, the heavy engine making his ears ring and pop like he’s in a bubble. The seat-belt sign flashes on.

He stares at her, wanting to make sure this is what she wants.

“We’ve got all the time in the world… if you want a dream wedding with your family and our friends…”

She silences him with a kiss; quick, snappy and determined.

“All I want is this. All I need is this. You. Just you.”

He knows she’s telling the truth. It’s not just that look of certainty in her eye (that gleam that shimmers like ice crystals and diamonds) but the way she holds his hand as if it’s their first time.

He can’t believe she still makes him feel like this.

They’ve only been dating for a number of months… but he already knows her by heart. There’s no need to memorise when it’s as easy and breathing.

They can’t stop laughing when the plane lands. Their hands burn as they pull their luggage and they spend ten minutes lost inside the massive airport.

It’s all so surreal, but neither stop smiling.

It’s right. How could it not be?

When they finally say yes, with contagious smiles and giddy trickles of laughter that leave them breathless, it’s like seeing dawn for the first time.

That moment where you hold your breath, in complete awe that there’s something so beautiful in the world that you know about but have never actually seen before. And you think to yourself, why did it take me this long?

She’s like the dawn; bright, fierce and mesmerising. And he’s completely enthralled.

He calls her Mrs Potter as they walk down the streets of Las Vegas, hand in hand. He calls her Mrs Lily Potter as they share an ice cream and take hundreds of selfies.

Anything and everywhere.

They take a picture of them outside a typical chapel with a thatched, grey roof. Their heads close together, tongues out and sunglasses on.

James sends it to their group chat with the caption ‘Lovely day to get married’.

Sirius messages first with two simple words: called it. Peter sends the crying emoji and Remus states he’s already planning a party for when the two of them come back.

They leave their hand-prints all over the city, they paint it in their colours and by the time they’re ready to leave it’s as if this is Their City.

“Are you ready to face the world again, Mrs Lily Potter?” He asks with a grin, squeezing her hand and kissing her palm.

“With you, always.”

#jily #jily fanfic #jily fic #jily drabble #hiddenpolkadots #padfootdidit #jiilys #alrightevans #gxldentrio #snapslikethis #cupcakeblake #anonymous #replies #jily:fic #my fic

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krakenator · 5 years

Text

Chapter 17 aka “Dune”

SPOILERS are sprinkled around extremely liberally for The Property of Hate

Masterpost here

RGB: oh fuck

That’s… that’s actually really neat. We get confirmation soon that everything in this world has color as blood, not just RGB. So, you can actually see it in this tree stump- idk if that’s how sap actually works but it’s a cool as hell visual

That’s a neat way to highlight how FUCKING UNNERVED AND AFRAID RGB IS SEEING THIS BULLSHIT

Oh fuck. Oh that is really not good. Oh no. oh god it’s a domino effect. No trees means nothing is holding up the sea which means the darkness can’t do anything on its own. This is gonna ripple back to the market isn’t it. Oh god

With the sea collapsing like this, Click may get released from his watery grave quicker than imagined…

YIKES

Ok, at least it stopped and stabilized. For now. buuuut that particular exit is completely unusable now

HEY WAIT A MINUTE *rewinds a few pages* YEAH REMEMBER THAT HUGE SCHISM CRACK FROM REALIZING RGB’S MURDERED MANY HEROES AND BEING TOLD TO SHOOT HIM? Yeah that shits GONE now

How the fuck? That hasn’t happened before. Hero’s had to sleep to heal her schism in the past.

AND ITS COMING BACK? One page after they’re out of the darkness and that schism is starting to think about making a reappearance. WHY THO

CONSIDER THIS: darkness ALSO has healing properties? Whereas total Light will burn, scorch, and white you out from existence, total Dark will hide, conceal, and heal you.

Then again, Hero’s schism didn’t heal on her first journey through darkness to get to the Market

So... more likely it was something to do with their bonding in the last chapter, or- or even though the Nightmare gave her a bad scare, it is still technically a DREAM, and dreams whether they are nice or scary will still heal you up a bit? Interesting if true. Alternatively, the sheer proximity to that literal blockade of dreams was just so, many and potent that Hero didnt even need to be asleep for them to work a little magic on her

I still think I’m onto something about Darkness also having healing effects, however! Consider the evidence:

RGB was fucking WRECKED right before Negative come out to play way back in chapter 6. Just utterly destroyed. He was COVERED IN BURNS from being PUNCHED ACROSS A FIELD and then his circuits got ELECTROCUTED. But Negative doesn’t have any of those injuries, and neither does RGB once Negative has finished his job. Negative, confirmed to be Made of Darkness, heals RGB from whatever dumb-fuck nonsense he’s gotten into to make Negative have to step in

EVIDENCE #2: that black residue Hero leaves from being impaled on the sick tree. Just because RGB believes nothing they did contributed to the tree’s revival doesn’t mean that’s entirely true. If Hero somehow left behind a lil bit o’ Darkness in the tree, then maybe it might have thawed a little/slower on its own even without the Butterfly also melting away the [—–]

One last, slightly off-topic thing before we get back to continuing the actual chapter, people produce soft lights and flowers when they sleep, right? and those flowers fade away once they wake up. RGB’s never done that, but Negative spawns blue roses that break apart when he’s done his business. My point being... RGB doesn’t dream. If he only ever actually asleep when Negative is awake?

RGB’s overabundance of color comes into play once again

“this sand is stained by the blood of dead trees” wow I did not remember this section of comic being as metal as it is

Wait the fuck a minute. Hold on. Hold- hold on

RGB IS A FUCKING COLOR BLEED PUN

RGB’s explanation is great for why this place is littered with husks of vehicles, but let’s think about what else probably ends up here, all those objects of sentimental affection and names- laptops, favorite pens. stuffed animals! The Sands are like a junk yard. and things occasionally get washed into the Sea, or the Sea washes them up here... just a cool cycle overall

SPECTACULAR TEAMWORK LOVELIES KEEP IT UP

back on the schism- its definitely much better than when they left the Market, but worse for having exited the Darkness. its more of an impression of a dip that a gaping wound right now

OH. So, yeah the sun piece will probably run into its brother whilst in the ocean, but RGB’s right- it probably went there in order to be hidden over other reasons

BUSTED

RGB: you did WHAT? You SOLD your FINGERS? Without TELLING ME? What made you think you could go and do that, I would’ve handled it!!

Hero, remembering that time she saw RGB rip his whole hand off and give it to an owl he met 2 seconds ago: I mean…

Yo can we… talk about RGB’s entire train of thought (LMAO) here? That he’s upset about Hero trading away parts of herself but doesn’t really give a fig about doing the same to himself? He’ll sell off buttons or an entire hand, but Hero gives away two fingers for a friend and he’s upset that she didn’t let him know, because he’d have handled it? On one hand it’s very “adults being horrified at children having to take on responsibilities and experiences they shouldn’t have to” which I am always about, yet on the other hand I’m getting a “RGB really doesn’t value himself much at all does he” vibe and yikes my heart

Like, between the self-worth issues touched on here and “maintain illusion of control and confidence by saying big words smartly”- same fucking hat. RGB needs to stop being relatable

“saying HUGE words, just INCOMPREHENSIBLE LETTERS when angry” is also. Yup. That’s uh. That’s me. goddammit

...... for me, this is what i would personally call the Nightmare Scenario

YOWCH that looks like it hurt. At least the good news is RGB will be able to recolor himself over a bit of time. Not sure if he’s also able to regenerate indelible lineart, so… better just not have to find out

also; that’s literally a train of thought. Why’s it colored like Negative, though? Is this a train made of Darkness?

YUP it’s a Darkness-cloaked train- how fucking weird must this look on Hate’s side?

Fdhafjk I forgot, they have NO IDEA what happened to Click. Amazing

what.... in the fresh hell is going on in this panel

BUT, super interesting implication that Hate can’t LEAVE this place, and that without Dial to get audio, or him/the Butterfly to go out and interact with things, Hate is very hands-off

but honestly wtf is the slanted speechbox? “this side of the script”??? i love it but what does this mean

RGB points out that charging through the sands like this should be destroying it, yet it remains perfectly intact throughout all of this, even when BURROWING INTO THE LITERAL ERASING SANDS. Interesting implication that Darkness can’t be erased. Interesting implication that Negative would be entirely unaffected by sand as well

IS DIAL EATING POPCORN? HOW

Who wants to bet this is gonna be an inkwell

AND DIAL IS LET OUT OF HIS CAGE!

Who the fuck would be the third party that’s sent this hell-train out to scoop up and deliver our heroes to them?

The idea that the kidnapper has at least once before been a kidnapee is just so funny to me. HOW DOES IT FEEL RGB??

(war flashbacks to THIS MORNING when RGB: broke into song, rocketed himself across the market via explosion and a slingshot, and wouldn’t stop making puns the entire time) my man is a ball of stress but damn if he isn’t able to react in the moment

The good news is RGB’s color regen process is pretty slick- his back’s already back to normal

Your humansona’s a real Jackie Chan madman isn’t he RGB. a real Tom Cruise motherfucker. Some Buster Keaton level shit.

I SHOULD SINCERELY HOPE SO, you’re wearing like TWO lucky objects on your person currently. If that can’t give you even a smidgen of stat-boosting...

now CHECK THIS OUT: it seems like RGB starts running into weirdness BEFORE he charges directly into the dream-infested car. A film-reel overlay effect, and lookit his hat- negative stripes of shadow

Chiaroscuro: “the effect of contrasted light and shadow” created by light shining in weird ways and directions. interesting chapter title to use, uncle mod, on a chapter which has got the pure whites of the erased desert/Hate’s realm directly contrasted with tree stumps and this weird, darkness train

Don’t you hate it when you run directly into a gas cloud of dreams

So we got a jewel (a box?), white and black hands, the iron again, a teardrop shape, what might be RGB’s Mystery Button, all with film reels

And speaking of that iron, we also get the fiery sharp shapes again… which morph into S’s. it’s a sound. a SSSSSSSSSSS

I just had to go look up what an iron actually sounds like and… yeah. It makes an SSSS sound

Human RGB is… unfairly handsome. Of course he is. AND I SEE THAT TV IN ON THE LEFT MOD

Hey wait a minute

That’s not my bastard man

NOBODY in this comic has spoken in ANYTHING other than black or white colored text. and now here is this ancient MEMORY MAN speaking in ORANGE?

well actually the ‘co-worker’ is speaking in like really dark maroon? BUT STILL

“we split” has returned, 15 chapters later

The duality of these two title pages is really something- past and present getting whacked awake, the similar position present RGB has fallen to mirror past-human-guy, going from the Light of the memory to the Darkness of the train

ACTUALLY, RGB didn’t even LAND like that. he fall on the floor like THIS. he’s SHIFTED to reflect the decayed, old, deteriotated and fragile memory currently playing out in his head

AND CHECK OUT THOSE NEGATIVE-STRIPE GLITCHES! WOWIE! Lots and lots of foreshadowing to the upcoming Neggy appearance coming very soon to a screen near you!

#tpoh #the property of hate #tpoh time with gill

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