#clog stim

[critterzstimz]

Alfred J. Kwak stimboard

1 - 2 - 3

4 - 5 - 6

7 - 8 - 9

-Mod 🪼

#alfred j kwak #irl hands #irl animals #duck stim #red scarf #red stim #scarf stim #clog stim #tulip stim #flower stim #white stim #80s cartoons #90s cartoons #nostalgia stim #mod 🪼 #painting stim #mod jellyfish

[arsenicflame]

i really liked my tags on this post so i wanted to touch them up and post them as a stand alone! i ended up adding quite a bit to this ''':)

What artistic skill does Izzy possess?

I think he has a lot of 'practical' artsy skills. he’s decent at sewing (mending your own clothes isn't just useful, it's almost a requirement at sea with limited possessions and resources) he's probably decent at braiding hair from having to splice rope- simply anything with roots in being useful I think he has done enough to be decent at by this point in his life.

Singing comes into this as well, holding a rhythm is important for certain sailing tasks, and while I think he can sing in ways that don't translate to shanties, I don't think he has utilised this in a long long time (so excited that we are apparently getting an Izzy singing scene in s2!!!! I need him to know he can have fun)

Another thing is I think he was a really good tattoo artist! I don't actually see him as having the creativity to come up with interesting and unique designs but I do think he is excellent at the act itself, and at copying requested designs. you need a swallow? an anchor? a ship? any common sailors tattoo? he can absolutely do it and it will probably be the best tattoo you have. it was always a mark of honour if you could convince him to do yours on the Queen Anne- he was very busy and didn't often do them, and definitely wouldn't do them if he didn't respect you. He's done a lot of Ed's 'quality' tattoos (though I think Ed also does a lot on himself), he's done tattoos for Fang, and Ivan, and he will do them for the rest of the kraken crew in the future. (he will even do one for Lucius one day, one of his own pieces of art as long as its not an Ed face or a dick. They understand each other now)

anything else? I don't know, I see him very much as, he won't let himself do things if they aren't practical. his canon whittling is as close as he gets and that's more of a 'thing to do with your hands while watching the deck' kind of thing. have knife will whittle

I think ultimately, Izzy doesn't let himself do things for himself. if you love something, if you have a soft spot, it can be targeted, taken away.

I do think he maybe dances though. He always plays it off as something Ed forces him to do when they're drunk/on shore but... he loves it- the motion; the reliance on another partner and the intimate understanding of exactly what they're gonna do next? I think he would love that actually.

I think dancing might be the one thing he always does for fun. He never lets himself have it, but if Ed demands a partner? Yes, of course, anything for his Captain.

(Ed always demands a partner. he likes dancing well enough but he likes seeing Izzy do it more- he knows Izzy will never do it on his own, he understands why, but Ed is Blackbeard. Nobody fucks with Blackbeard- and if he wants to dance? if he wants his first mate to dance? they're fucking dancing.)

but that's not the truth of the situation, really.

It always takes him a second to let his guard down, but he relaxes into it. He lets himself loose in a way Ed only sees when he's deep into the rhythm of a swordfight. And perhaps it's the same, to him- finding the flow of the battle, of the music. Feeling his partner, understanding them and being understood in return? It's all the same- but dancing is safe. Dancing is fun. In a swordfight there are stakes- and he loves the stakes, he loves that this thing that means everything to him matters, but sometimes, just sometimes, it really is nice to move like that in a way that doesn't matter.

And when they really get going- all twirls and jumps and frankly being a little ridiculous, Izzy laughs. A deep belly laugh, a kind of joy you didn't think was possible from him. But here he is, letting go at last. He laughs and he smiles and he feels such joy, the rest of the world melts away, and it is just him and his partner, dancing.

(later- much, much later, a man will play a battle song over their raids, a jaunty little tune that throws off everyone they fight against, and Izzy gets to dance, and fight, and feel free, unburdened by the weight that he's carried with him his whole life. They'll dance after too, and he will have finally found a place where he completely belongs)

(if you liked this, can I recommend Talking Bodies by ItsClydeBitches, i feel like that fic fits the themes of dancing incredibly well)

#I didnt want to clog up ops post but Izzy dancing is everything to me actually #I hadnt reread that fic in months but I did just now to make sure it was the one I was thinking of #and yeah I can definitely see its influence in this post #once again the autistic Izzy headcanons thread themselves through this post I cant help it its canon to me #I specifically think that the whittling could be a stim thing for him. hes had too many comments made about his hand movements #when he was younger and has learnt that 'doing something' is seen as far more acceptable. its repetitive and soothing and safe #also heres a fun little gift for my bellhands friends. I think Sam taught him how to dance. like proper dances. #and it was at the same time as he was learning to swordfight which is partly why theyre so similar for him #Ed and Jack came across them dancing in port; not long after they started talking to Izzy properly (hed known Sam a while by this point) #and like. Jack thinks its kinda funny but Ed? oh hes jealous. for the first time he Wants #Izzy and Sam are so close; and they have been for a while but this is Different. its one thing knowing that its Izzy&Sam and Ed&Jack #and its another thing to see them like this. its intimate and personal and for the first time Ed regrets not seeing izzy first #(this is heavily influenced by my personal pirate school headcanons jfgjfhnv) #makes a post to deal with out of hand tags; tags on that post get out of hand #nyxtalks #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 spoilers #izzy hands #israel hands #edizzy #blackhands #frenchie ofmd #references to him; anyway. i felt it fit to keep him vaguely defined but it is obviously him. my favourite lil guy #this should probably have been broken up into a couple of posts but NO take this behemoth #if youre curious the post is like 844 words long and with the tags its 1220 ish. i am so sorry #references to vague time periods pre canon and post canon idk put them whenever you want. when edizzy was happy. when they will be again #I cut the bit about weaving because it was just a silly little thing and didnt slot into this but know Izzy with a loom is everything to me #im also sorry the tone is all over the place this is half 'i thinks' and half like. semi narrative things? idk idk i have no sense of order #this is as good as it gets for me

[cloudybori]

Umm hi if you haven’t already can you draw a baby Blumaroo plzzz their my all time favorite neopet ever

just hatched

i've drawn this guy too

#ask #neotag #neopets #my art #request #pencil-stims #what if i drew a larval blumaroo nativity scene would yuo guys be mad at me #also sorry if im clogging the tag with these drawings skdfjhskdf

[8stims]

So the queue has run out, I’m going to take a hiatus since I’m still very much shadowbanned. I might still post 1 or 2 reblogs a day but for now peace out ✌️💜

#not stim #mod speaks #I’m still making gifsets in my spare time so I may post some of those too just so they don’t clog up my drafts

[stimmy--cryptid]

(whf anon) oh sorry just realised you had a separate blog for games, idrk what to do in this situation so yeah. sorry again, i'm not gonna send the original ask to the other one bc i don't want to clog things up.

no worries, it happens :) if youd like to request again youre totally free to send an ask to our game blog once requests open up, and wed be happy to do it for you! :D

-☃️

#as long as requests are open theres no worries with clogging things up :D (/g) #not stim #mod talk

[astralnymphh]

SEXROT 𖤐 | ellie williams

☠︎︎࿐-ˊˎ jackson!ellie x fem!reader

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

✧˖ ° 🕯 bright blessings!

AN: second fic ever published, it took sm longer but has more focus on the smut part of it. maybe the epilogue is a bit more casually written but its whatevs y'all def just here for the smut anyway. but(t) i hope u enjoy!! cause i sure did!! various times.

cw/tags: NSFW 18+ MDNI, smoking weed, getting high, friends to lovers, flirting, killing infected, guns, knives, blood description, replaces the jackson patrol scenario, spitting, dom leaning ellie, fingering (receiving, vaginal) clit stim (receiving and giving-ish) strap penetration (receiving, vaginal) oral (receiving) petnames (babe,baby,babygirl,princess) almost caught naked tewgether 😈(not in the act)

WC: 6.6k+

designated song: anesthesia- type o negative

synopsis: you have resided in jackson for about six months solo in a humble cabin only a stroll away from the lively community plaza. ellie introduced herself to you two months ago on the full lunar night of a bonfire and have proved inseparable ever since. both of you had a couple things in common upholding your friendship but lots of new experiences arise from beneath those shared interests. one day, you and ellie embark on the scheduled patrol for that afternoon, plowing through scattered clusters of infected inhabiting dilapidated buildings lost in the past. presently, after trudging the pearly snow and eluding the raging snowstorm, tucking both of you into a lone library sitting amongst those very buildings, brimmed with a 'herby' mystery.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Your uneasy fingers grasp the rustic steel door handle, deprived of the haven sourced on the summit of your horse's saddle minutes prior to entering this enigma of a building. Not a soul has settled within these walls for a considerable stretch of time and it shows, dust cloaking the floor, a void pooling in various corners of each room, the stuffy and still air clogging your senses and peculiar noises erupting from either your mind or physical reality. You roll the knob and push the loose door open, hinges creaking untimely with the lingering presence of a clicker revealing itself with the infamous croaks emitting from its fungal body.

Ellie is close behind, poised over your crouched shoulder with hawk pupils scanning the room you've just discovered. Her hand nudges you and deviates your focus from the room, honing on what she was mouthing in empty words.

"Watch my back, I'm gonna sneak up on it." 

You nod subtly in accordance, flattening your back against the icy door to make a path for her.

Ellie extends her gloved hand out on the doorways trim, shuffling on crouched legs past you and into the pigsty of an office, steadily approaching the mindless croaking clicker.

Your fingers seize the pistol sheathed in its thigh holster, provoking the trigger with dual fingers ready to fire a round right in the clickers noggin if need arises. The creaky chatter cracking from the fungoid continues as Ellie creeps upon its obliviousness, pouncing timely and capturing it in headlock as she fluidly jabs her switchblade into its rigid neck, spewing crimson blood outwards that painted her sleeve quite disgustingly.

"Uck," she conveys, face contorted with sourness.

Stillness remains until the coast proves clear, giving you a chance to address, "All good, no more infected." 

"Well, it's about fucking time!" she heaves the figurative indent of edge from her tense chest, flicking off strings of blood from her winter sweater.  "Think this doors' unlocked?" She queries herself prior to twiddling with the rattling door knob of a possible exit.

Your wandering eyes uncover the roughly concealed red and grey steel box, internalizing instantly that it was a generator, "Hey, 'Williams', there's a generator." you make known to Ellie, who's not even facing it.

She turns around, "Where there's a generator, there's a hideout. We could use the supplies, so.." she sauntered over to the generator, folding her knuckles around the pull-tab, "Hope they don't mind us borrowing- also, don't call me by my last name!" 

You snort a genuine laugh and ogle the way Ellie cranks the cord, arm so stable and fierce. You felt like a bumbling idiot for admiring her mere movements, but something under the skin pined for her in a way unfathomable at first glint. Her cinnamon dotted cheeks, badass scar slanting in her brow, fluorescent fauna irises, button nose and the sheer nerd that she was really spun the tide coalescing within your tenuous heart. On the other hand, her mannerisms, thrumming husky voice and attitude frets the knot in your pelvis beyond a fixing point you can't manage alone.

"C'mon, lights are on in here." Her voice snuffs the ramblings clogging your brain, grasping your attention towards the door swinging open just now.

You stare into her pupils barreling into you, now twisting a impishly curious visage.

"What'chu thinking about?" 

Your eyes flicker, "Nothing." A clod draws from your tense gullet, gulping the trance that bewitched your susceptible mind.

"Doesn't look like 'nothing'." She prys with a low gravelly tone, waddling languidly towards you.

"Nothing." You pursue vaguely, dusting past Ellie in a swift pace.

She just gawks at you, thin grooves in-between her knitted brows while she swung her head round to trail her eyes after you. Admittedly, she entertained the stray thoughts of you mutually, as the living recreations of you are sunken into her journals pages habitually. Her wrist recalls every arch and convex of your face, fingers honor the sway of your eye shape, subconscious retains the wisping of your baby hairs and consciously, Ellie just knows you as 'cute girl'. That very title is etched under the whole lot of depictions reaping your glamor throughout her journal.

"You think Eugene used this place too? I mean, all this electrical shit, nobody'd tinker with it except him." She infers, reverting to the eased doorway you just proceeded through.

Your void mind instantly heeds the flurry of wired veins branched across the next room. Your eyes trace the river of cords until it vanishes between the wall and a peculiar bookcase. Illumination pummels through the frayed wood planks backing it, luring your mind towards this enigma.

"Yo, check this out." You hoist an observation aloud, Ellie's umber auburn head whirls to peek at your discovery.

"What the fuck?" An airy chuckle grates from her throat in awe, peachy lips ajar and nooks of her mouth flexing into a smirk.

You lend your weight upon this bookcase, plateauing to drive the colossal bookshelf from where it's planted. "Ugh, a little help?"

Ellie giggles at your measly endeavor to motivate the shelf, that dumb wide crescent grin bearing upon her spread lips, "Got no muscles or something?" she quips.

"Shut up!"

She caves in and assists you regardless, moseying around and towering over you, casting a dark specter across your body. It was a casual stance, but quivers your beating core nonetheless. The noise of scratches indenting underneath the hefty bookcase as it drags screeches in your hollow eardrums.

"There." Ellie claims hoarsely, whooshing her breath against your bare neck and scoring numerous hairs to plumb from your skin.

Shaking it off, you embark through the threshold, eyes tunneling upon a downward staircase beckoning you to traverse to its descendant level.

"Tch, did Eugene own a sex dungeon?" Ellie immaturely cracks, scurrying down the steps faster than a dog could.

"I hope. That dude was lonely." You jest back in emphasis, earning a gust of laughter past Ellie's lips.

"Think we'll find scary whips and chains in there?"

"Oh my god, Els! I don't think he was into that kinda stuff." You hop a step, springing upon her and jabbing your stiff knuckles into her unalerted shoulder blades playfully.

"Ouch! It was only a theory." her voice curves in defense, sowing her feet flat after the last tread of stairs. 

You tumble your eyes accompanied by a sigh, beating her to the door and pushing it open to a sight your noses realistically should have detected a floor above. Least of all ambrosial, the fetid source birthed from a garden of weed, some potted, some dangling, lots cascading over the steel tables, essentially, a fuck ton of herb.

"Unholy shit!" You expound with starstruck pupils, molting away the playful exterior you harbored just moments ago and cast an astonished visage.

"Did he grow.. all of this?" Ellie doesn't grapple with the notion of it right away, but soon materializes it in her cranium and wanders over to a pot of the dried sage green herbage.

"Must've taken ages.." you pondered, plucking a brittle leaf off its hunched stem, chafing it to ash between the pads of your glove-clad digits, "And a day.." you slyly add in regards to the weeds dehydrated state.

Ellie stupidly grins in reaction to your joke, baring teeth and all. She strides past arrays of trays, rustling the herbs strung up to the ceiling. Her eyes land upon an obscure shape, alluring her to inspect the properties of this object. She erupts, "It's a gas mask bong." cradling the mask in her hands, infatuated by its genius design.

"In what situation would you even use that?" you doubt it's anything more than plain goofy.

"Emergency relief?"

"Of course you'd know how."

"Hey, I don't smoke that often!" she wards in a pitched tone, scoffing at your mere belittling.

You reel back into a searching mode, lurking among the next isle of weed till a glass jar of blunts enlightens you. "Ellie, there's a jar of this shit!" 

"Oh for real?" she trots hastily to your region, bearing a vivacious fever at the sight beholding a for real container of rolled blunts.

"Think it's fresh?"

Ellie hums an 'I dunno', cusping the jar from your hands and wrenching the lid with all her might, not budging at all. It takes her a blur of tries, observing the way her thick brows purse together and summon those vertical grooves in her forehead, an attractive sight to you.

"You need help?" you mock her, unzipping and unsheathing your arms out of the slim fitted sleeves fashioning your winter jacket.

"No, I got it." Ellie assures with a cluster of uncertainty smothering her strained voice. She had to practically arch over and bound the jar to her abdomen for faltering pressure.

"Gimme that." you snatch the glass from her dense grip, garnering a doubtful sneer skipping her lips.

"Like you'll get it." 

"You shouldn't be talking." you dart a wink.

Ellie flits a smug middle finger like the immature fiend she is, peeling the green jacket layering her pewter grey hoodie off. She tosses it astray to the ground, lurking towards a convenient couch and relaxing her butt against the nook of its armrest.

The lid refuses to subdue to your firm grip, feebly slipping and searing an exasperated groan gritting your teeth. Your instincts flash and wills an arm up to hurl the jar harshly against the stone ground, pulverizing the glass into countless shards.

"What, the fuck, is wrong with you?" Ellie halts at every syllable, gesturing with her palms like a shield to the jagged fragments.

"A lot."

Ellie gives a judgey once-over at your unbothered demeanor, hiking off the couch and crouching down to cautiously pinch a freed blunt from the debris, feathering the dust off and indulging a whiff held to her nostrils, "Smells good." she asserts, hoisting up and offering the joint to you.

"We' taking a detour?" you metaphorize, rotating the blunt like a wheel between your fingertips.

"We're trapped." Ellie educed a reminder wary of the billowing snowstorm that proved risky to tread earlier.

"Totally trapped." 

You both take harbor on the buffered sofa, bodies naturally vis-à-vis, a sheer four feet apart. Flicking the lighter cap open, plucking the tab and igniting the pocket flame whilst keeping your keen eyes on Ellies, who's piercing the windows to your soul with those juniper rings.

Ellie studies your face brazenly, locked on your profile as you kindle the blunt casually, lodging it between your lips to inhale a drag. Her optics tear an awkward barrier in the vacant space between you, now bidding a tension on the horizon. This makes you feel, seen, read like a poem, one that Ellie read often, and adored endlessly. Weed scorches the walls of your throat, eliciting a cough to spasm from your tight chest.

"Gah- fuck!" The spasmodic fit weaves through your distress, extended arm begging for Ellie to nab the source of your rasp from your jolting hand.

She snickers in belittlement at your expense, that dorky toothful smile crooking her rosy lips, "First time?"

"No."

"Liar." 

"You'll never know." 

Ellie's grin broadens prior to catering the blunt to her lips, pursing around the tip to drain a puff into her barren lungs. You take a gander at this sight, melting in the dimensional image of her woody auburn hair veiling a halo around her hung head, perking up to huff a thick smog enveloping you.

"What happened- last night, at the dance?" 

"You mean, with Dina?" she passes the blunt back, fingertips mingling a moment.

A hesitant drag soothes your lips, "Yeah, if you're uh- fine telling." Luckily, a cough doesn't plague you.

Ellie's cheeks lift a smirk, "It was a.. wild night. Dina.. kissed me and then Seth went bigot mode and said a not-so-nice word."

"Oh, shit." your brows rear and carve horizontal creases to your forehead, "You good?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just.. on edge. This helps though." she beams, nicking the smoldering blunt from you.

You couldn't divulge if she referred to you or the weed being her beacon of ease, but you dust off the thought. "So, you and Dina?" you inquire in a flirty mimic.

"N- it's.. just a kiss. She was drunk, I'm not gonna look into it- it doesn't mean anything." she stutters in a flustered haze.

Drawing some smoke in, then puffing it out, a smile invites itself on her pooling red midface and hijacks your attention.

"Why' you blushing then?"

"I'm not fuckin- fuck." Ellie's embarrassment stinges the sight of her smile as she flicks her head away, a cute sight to you that warrants your rising feelings at this moment.

"I think it's more than a kissss~" your tone curls playfully, nagging at Ellie's rattled state.

"You're on thin ice."

"A crimes' been committed, someone stole your heart!"

"I will come over there and fight you, no joke!" 

"Ellie's got a girl-" 

Out of the void, she has you pinned by the wrists under her clammy palm, sinking into the padded seat beneath you, auburn bang drooping like a pendulum over your face with the barely existing space between your faces. Senses plagued from the way gravity lashed out of you and hallucinogens deceived you, burrowing and growing like mold in the foggy vale of your skull.

"I don't have a girlfriend," Ellie utters through a sluggish jaw. "yet."

Your mind makes out an elusive meaning to her words, "You don't like Dina.."

Her lips calcify ajar, hot breath seeping into your buzzing skin, "It's someone else."

"Me?"

Her eyes waver, but strike up, "Yeah." she admits in a soft chuckle, wedging her thigh between your shut ones cunningly. You swear her pupils dilate like a supermoon.

A euphoric orb rings inside of your essence, thickening your veins and coating a cloak of boiling heat over your swelling hips wailing for a fucking when her voice brims your ears. This weed has really got your mind and panties in a pleasant twist. The confirmation of her liking- love? Maybe it's too soon, but it sure confirms your hidden suspicions.

"I think we needa get back to your place." Your words weigh heavy with intention.

"Fuck yeah we do." Ellie aligns with your suggestion, gnawing her tender lips with intention as well.

You both hustle off the tearing couch now tinted with a lustful sweat, not paying an ounce to sliding a coat on or gloves prior to, but not without pilfering some lone blunts scattered upon the floor, mounting your horse and galloping off.

☆

The warmth of Ellie's garage-shed-home drinks you up graciously, biting back the bone-chilling skull-screaming fever of the merciless ice age outdoors. The locked door affirms you won't be bothered, so your nerves settle and excitement brews deep in you. A new heat bonds with your body physically, Ellie embracing you cordially and her face dominates your vision.

"We're here." Her husky voice streams pleasantly, "What now?" 

A chill races your spine, replying in a stutter, "L-let's do this on your bed." You heave out with desire, digging your nails into her hoodie-clad back.

Ellie descends slightly to tuck her hands under your knees, buckling you around her hips snug and lodging her crotch against your heat, the rivet of her jeans poking the valley of your clothed cunt, earning a choked whimper bearing pleasure. The ensuing moment, you're cast onto the cottony bed with Ellie crawling over you, latching her plump lips on your bare neck and peppering your neck with prompt and sloppy nibbles.

"You want this? Cus' I really want this~" her words muffle in the crook of your jaw. "But d'you?" she intoned against your ardent skin, hips bucking and rolling the lump of her denim into your clit, causing you to bear down and grind back in chase of those lovely whits of ecstasy.

"I want it.. so bad.." the tension piling since the couch at last reprieves through every respite and roll of her hips.

Bodies chafing together at Ellie's intended friction, more importantly, knee now rutting against your aching clit stirs a kugelblitz in the cavern of your pelvis. Ellie peeks her face over yours, tucking the apex of her nose aside before rolling her lips on yours with passion, smacking sounds filling your headspace.

"I've liked you for so long, yknow?" Ellie affirms on your lips, "I wanted you for so long."

The pure carnal burn tickles your skin, bubbling a sinful image behind your eyes and mouth ardent to bite down on her bottom lip in hunger.

"Fuck, babe-" Ellie breaks the kiss briefly to utter, dazed vision, via her arousal, tunneling into yours with wide pupils.

You grin, prying your thumb between your teeth in a way that appeals to her. A hand traverses your body and toys with the hem of your shirt before lurking under and grasping your bra-clad breast fondly.

"Ahh~" your voice creaks when her thumb shimmies under the bra and plays with your fervent buds.

"Like that?" Ellie's tone dwells with honeyed lust, so sweet yet so intoxicating.

Lips polarize together and spark a continuous blossom of arousal, soaking the panties and coating a flim on the denim in a portal shape. Bound by a sluggish spell, your limp arm snakes over your torso, fingertips stroking Ellie's forearm and folding under the rim of your shirt to pull it off, exposing bare skin lush with blemishes and scars, trailing along with your jeans almost torn off in a rush.

"Damn." Ellie's airy chuckle riffs in your head, prefacing a long flirty whistle.

"Stop.." A blush bruises your midface, darting away from her intense stare that crowds you with a shy rotation of your head.

"Hey, look at me." Her fingers forcep your chin, reeling your head back to drown in her sights like a gentle whisper of adoration, "I wanna make you feel good.." her words cruise in a promising melody.

That very declaration screws your core in delightful ways, waxing a breaking sweat over your already humid exterior, interior when it refers to something else.

A notion murmurs akin to a soft hollow echo betwixt your temples, ushering your body to motion. Your hands spring to clasp her unaware wrists, tussling her over and straddling her hips.

"Woah, okay. This works." Her lips spread to an exalted smile, palms perched on your thighs and digits prodding the viscose skin wrapping the crests of your hips, reading every stretch mark with her finger pads which adorns a satisfied beam to her eyes.

A slew of exhilaration crashes against the walls of your body, grinding that clothed sensitive bud on the ridge of her zipper fly, biting back a riff of moans.

"Lemme hear you." Her hand scales your body, thumb inching past your lips and hooking over your teeth, beckoning it ajar.

"Fuhhhck.." You thrill her with a droning groan, stirring your eager tongue around her thumb and suctioning a kiss around her knuckle as it adjusts beyond your teeth.

"Suck, babygirl." 

Obeying her word, your lips bolt around the root of her thumb, siphoning it further inwards on the plateau of your tongue and casting dozy sex eyes upon her.

"Good girl," Ellie's finger skims out from your teeth, leaving a trail of saliva down your chin.

Your hips wallow over the hill of her bunching jeans, feeling a finger embed and press up onto your clit, damping the tip of her willowy digit thinly and hollowing out a clamor of moans.

"I gotcha this wet?" A brazen smirk glamours her lower face, rousing her own elation with a weighted chafe of her thighs, "Fuck, baby."

A figment of her voice remains like a chant in your smothered mind, calling your eyes to shut and live in every sting of pleasure stimulating you.

"Hmnnn.. mmm~" you purr, unfathomable bliss influencing your actions with every roll of your bud.

"Can I take these off?" her fingertips peruse your pantyline, to which you nod, pleating them down your hips gently once you've granted the okay signal.

Your panties eventually get hurled somewhere in her room, probably dangling from the edge of her TV screens' rim or now invited to the pile of her own laundry, nonetheless, she honed in on your now stripped slit, spreading your legs with her own shuffling first, displaying your bareness split across her open thighs.

"Watch my fingers."

So you do, focused on her gliding hand grazing your thigh in an unhurried manner, coaxing the crevice melding your thigh and crotch before they split and part your folds. She gives you a once-over before dipping into your drenched core, sucking her fingers up like it knew her touch. Her fingers inside prove warm and filling, sliding through your clenched walls with ease and in return rewards you with a drunken and drowsy gaze from her seductive greenhouse glow eyes.

“You take me in so well, shit-” Ellie’s humid mutter seeps into the swirling skin of your temple, close proximity with her heaving chest and the aroma of her natural scent coating the chamber of your skull deeply.

Her skins aflame with an amber luminance and dampening, reeking of carnal ache through her sullied hoodie, so you slur out, “I wann-feel your skin’n mine..” you clutch on the band of her hoodie, knuckles prodding her firm abdomen.

"Fingers not enough?" Ellie's hoarse yet silky voice coos, fingers sliding from your sopping wet cunt and slick glazing her svelte digits beautifully.

"I need all of you." You lean and overshadow her stationary body, hastily pulling her hoodie over her head and ruffling her hair a smidge.

"Mhm, baby?" Ellie reposes her benign palms to your hips, fingernails indenting the plush skin of your ass and inscribing a reddened row of scratches, a daring idea lighting inside her head, "y'wanna sit on my face, pretty girl?" her husky tone thickens.

An answer spurns from your agape lips, instead winding your body to heed her suggestion and climb upwards towards her face, observing the way she bites her pink lips at the sight of your eagerness before your stature projects over her and offers a pleasing sight to her sex-swollen mind.

Your avidness turns her on, admittedly, "Fuck, babe- gonna clean y'up good, okay?"

Her greedy digits resume through your ocean-soaked folds, splitting them apart and sinking three fingers in, fiending for the profound warmth your core provides. They dip in nicely, entrance molding to the shape of her fingers, absorbing every intent feeling her curving knuckles elicit in your throbbing walls and the celestial heavens wash over you.

"Fuck me- oh god.."

"That's what I'm doing.." Ellie sneaks in a playful joke, a crook slanted smile smoothing her lips for a mere moment before swiping it away with her tongue 'wetting the whistle'. Her hunger lives for your taste, colliding timely with your clit and suckling the bud into her pressed lips, simultaneously pumping her fingers into your leaking pussy and forcing a spiking yelp from your unlatched mouth.

"Mmm, Ellie.." you whine, gripping on her already disheveled locks instinctively.

She doesn't reply, too focused on rolling the swelling bud with her nimble tongue flicking endlessly between your delicate folds. An arm buckles over your thigh, elbow adjacent to your hip crest and pinning you further against her deft lapping motions. Ellie knew what she was doing.

The curved fingers coaxing your g-spot sparingly is just enough stimulation to decay your functioning senses, "Els- El..Ellie.." you wail breathless, her tongue prying at the hood of your clit lovingly whilst suctioning inwards sends shockwaves down your legs and into your feet.

Ellie parts from your core, smeared with your slick gleaming down her chin. She sucks in the wetness dripping from her lips, "Tastes so good, babe- mm, so fuckin' hot." she steeps her vision in the perspective of your body elongated before her, eyeing like a precious gem.

You melt in the quickened pace of her fingers inside you, knuckles deep and brimming with arousal overflowing at the base of her fingers. The intense thrusting of your sobbing pussy ejects a melodious line of moans, "Fuuuuck…" masking the tantalizing noises of your heat slapping with Ellie's palm.

"Cum, babygirl, come on.." Her voice husks gravelly, deepening in your skull while numb-fucking you into oblivion with hawk eyes staring up at you.

Lubricous strings lash against your outer folds and inner thigh at each smack her hand endures, her tongue slurping up those juices pooling over your neglected clit adding an extra layer of lust incarnate ramming your walls to be released. Giving in, your nerves flare up and pulse around your opening, limbs tightening and clenching, especially around Ellie's lithe fingers, a sweet pleasure engrossing your entire essence with a rush of fluid spiraling down her knuckles.

"Good fuckin'- that's m'girl.." She growls inwardly against your stuffed cunt, thrumming from her chest igniting that attractive muffled voice she crowns.

You feel her fingers slip out, leaving a hollow sense rooting in your core. A suctioning sound comes from below you, noticing that Ellie had licked the taste of you from her pussy-drowned fingers. 

"God, Ellie.. where'd you learn that?" you huff out, still descending your head from the sun above.

"Experience." She discloses, not a fragment of bluffing behind those proud eyes, relishing in the way she drove you to boundless ecstasy. She announces, "I'm not done yet though." 

You inquire a bumbled facade until you hack her meaning just as she leverages you off her face with dual strong grips setting you to the side. Hoisting onto her knees, spinning 'round to rustle through her nightstand, equipped with a slightly beaten but sealed box once she faces you again.

"Fuck is that?" You ask with knitted brows, curving curiosity in your smirk.

"So, there was this sex store up in-"

"Ellie, is that a dildo?" you poke the box.

"Not- exactly no."

"Bitch, I'm gonna be getting a different kind of infection from that."

"It's sealed! The building was barely ruined or inhabited," She defends, gentle hands rubbing your folded knees. "I just wanna fuck you."

You bob your head languidly, bidding an unwarranted smile on your lips, "You did, though." 

"But I can do so much more.." Her face levitates towards yours, "If you want?" the corners of her mouth jerk, upholding that memorable smile, dimples, nasal lines and all.

"Obviously.. I want it.." your voice rumbles navelly, eyes fix on her pupils, narrowed lids and a siren visage.

"Head on the pillow then, princess." Ellie chuckles, hands mindlessly peeling open the box.

Your fingers linger on your bra, still on somehow, so you brace it off willingly, plopping into the cloudy pillow enveloping your sticky skin with a cotton case creasing like a halo surrounding your head.

Ellie dumps the box's contents out, a thick hunter green mass smacking your thigh, "Shit, sorry." she clasps the strap-on by its buckle, leading it off your thigh simultaneously to giggling.

"How long ago did you find that box anyway?"

"Like.. a month or two?" her voice curves, unsure.

"So, you've been planning this for 2 months?"

"I've liked you longer than that."

"Oh?"

"I didn't plan it, I just.. had the stray thought." Ellie's cheeks churn in a red tint, "But I always think of you, fake dick or not."

"It's fine, I wanted you for a while too, so it's mutual." you sync a blush, anticipating the hazy lust to clamor within you again, "Thought of you too."

A mischievous grin carves on her lower face, light eyes squinting, "Like, in bed-"

"Get that damn thing on already."

"Yes, ma'am!" Ellie resumes her motions, tearing the rest of her under garments off in a pinch, bare alongside you. She fastens the strap on snug, jabbing into her untended clit that jams a groan out of her diaphragm.

"Neglected a bit?" you tease.

"Shut up." she hushes in a honeyed mumble, slouching slightly and grasping the mimicked shaft, spitting into her unoccupied palm and massaging the length graciously, "There we go.." she hums deeply.

Next thing, Ellie's hoisted your bottom between her thighs and legs hugging her hips loosely, seconds away from cramming the entire base into your over-sensitive pussy. She runs the tip through your delicate folds, sloshing the lewd slickness around which is music to your ears. Her eyes darted over to capture yours, withholding the appetite for one last affirm of consent; "Ready babe?"

"Mhm." You nod with zero hesitation, squirming your hips in timidness for what might be brought upon your foggy senses.

Ellie leans her body over you, sinking the tip between your slippery walls and gauging you in one quick swing of her hips. 

"Fuck!" Bliss clogs your throat but overdrive knots in your pelvis, implanting your bottom deeper in the sheets as a means of reprieving the inferno of overstim just slightly.

Ellie lends you a moment of adjustment, asking in a silky tone, "Can I start moving?" her face a breath away from yours, arms like pillars locking you between her hands.

"Please.." you secure your legs around her hips, nicking her in the butt with the heel of your foot playfully, "fuck me.."

Ellie's muscles tense in excitement, fierce craving looms in her face and her hands run down to grip your hips in a carnal fashion as she sinks you deeper on her base, uttering under a hush, "I'll fuck the shit out of you."

Following that, you embrace her close to you as her hips begin to crash against yours slowly, akin to a wave, hollowing and filling as she pumps her hips flawlessly. 

Tickling whimpers purring from your lips linger around the base of her ear, encouraging her to speed up slightly, chromatically raising the pitch of your pleasure, "Els…" you whine.

The strap jerks back at every thrust, chafing with her sensitive clit in provoking ways that draw out steamy breaths from her every moan. Friction beguiled her to pace faster, digging the straps base into her bud deeper, heaving a "Fuck, baby, fuck!" from that groggy voice as your hips knead together, her fingernails scraping your plush bottom instinctively.

You cast your head back towards the headboard, displaying a tidal of curses surfing from your throat at the top of cloud nine, "Yes! god.. harder.." 

"Say my name.." 

"Els-E-Ell.." you struggle as your voice gets smothered by every buck her hips produce.

"Come on.. you can do it." she motivates you in a sugary sweet coo.

"Ellie!" you wail, "Ellie.." 

"Good girl."

Ellie snaps and throws her torso up, clutching your tender hips and slamming them down on her eased cock, front slapping harshly against your bottom with aiding wetness splayed across your legs, her face contorting one of strain at the sheer intensity her speed proves to be.

"Mm, fuck!" You writhe in erotic contentment, stunned by the pure sensations sweeping your nerves and swirling around your pelvis, she's fucking you so good, your minds' all mush.

Ellie bites back her ceaseless rasps, riveted on the way your breasts bounce restlessly with every pound, bewitched by the sight and honestly almost drooling since her mouth was just open. She groans, "You gonna cum again? Hmm?" her thrusting falters and begins to get sloppy, out of breath.

"A-huh! Hmmnn.." your vision blurs and you fall into a dizzying spire, fucked out of your mind and on the verge of snapping.

"Yes.. yess.." Ellie mewls out, the dark amber strand sticking to her drenched forehead, emanating a beautiful glow across her body that weaved every groove her toned muscles bestowed, highlighting her drooping lids, agape mouth and taut forehead creasing when fucking felt just right.

All the feelings bubble up, the strap hitting your g-spot so perfectly, fogging your mind and tossing your coordination out the window. She descends her head towards your neck, sanguine bites lathered upon your shoulder and crook of your neck.

"Ellie- I'm gonna.."

"Me too." She huffed out, slamming your hips down in unison with her movement, a sheet of slick glazed between both of your crotches causing a wet slap to occur with each thrust, "Open up more, babe." her hands trail to your thighs, forcing them apart .

"It's s'fhukin g-mmm.." your voice slurs and cuts off.

"Shhhshh… shh.. I know.." her lips drag against your ear, prideful eyes drowning in your fucked out face, proud of her work. 

The swelling knot in your pelvis finally snaps, sending you quivering in her arms. Lewd moans clatter against the rooms walls, orgasm overwhelming your systems and gyrates your brain on a down spiral. Muggy sweat cloaks your entire body and hinders a steady breath from grazing your lungs.

Ellie's pelvis doesn't hesitate to halt, colliding with yours and rendering your already fried senses into a numbing and jittery state. She chases her own climax, hosting a melody of moans into your ears as she approaches release, "Fuck~ fuck fuhhckk.. babe." she squints harshly, driving her clit into the strap's base fiending for release.

"Els.." you whine, bracing the eruption of overstim.

"Just hold on, baby, hold'n.. uhh- fuck." Ellie's neck tightens and narrows her voice into a groan, gripping your wrist with a might to bear down her intense orgasm, sexy low growls thrumming from her chest. Her body falls flat on you in immediate exhaustion, burrowing the strap deep inside at a pause.

A laugh entrances you, "Felt good, hmm?"

"I should be asking you.. shit.." Ellie's chest rises sporadically against you as she syncs a giggle, sliding her hips away and taking the strap off without batting an eye so she could pepper you with smooches enraptured in a cuddle.

"It was good.. really fuckin' good."

Your reply seeps into her mind, inviting a sheepish smile to her face, "So.. does this mean, you'll be my… girlfriend?" a chuckle spurts out to clear any awkwardness.

That same pre-sex shy blush paints your face, replying, "Yeah, hell yeah."

"Okay.. you wanna, stay here tonight?" Ellie suggests with soft yet worn out eyes, fiddling with the hair cascading from your scalp.

"Of course, I don't think I can walk anywhere now." you quip, whisking your finger over her nose tip.

"Yeah.. bet I was better than any guy." She praises herself, beaten fingers tracing shapes on your chest.

"At least you get to choose your size."

"Pfft, you're funny." A brilliant laugh brushes past her lips, with a mellow whisper, "and so pretty." her thumb swipes your cheek.

You wrap your snug thighs enveloping her body, "You too, Williams." 

"Still calling me that? I thought I said-" 

You seal her lips with a prolonged kiss, dragging your lips against hers in a hypnotic passion, getting her to engage in something a bit longer than a lone kiss. She indulges without a second thought, slurping you up and tasting every inch of your-

A knock pounds your hearing and the door, adjourning the steamy makeout for a different time.

The voice behind the knocking calls out, "Yo, Ellie! You in there?" unmasking itself to be Jesse.

"Shit!" she yells, "Be right there!" and scurries off the bed, hunting for her under garments frantically.

You quickly bolt off the bed and swoop your undergarments, nearly toppling over as you shimmy your underwear on hurriedly but fortunate enough to catch your fall with some clamorous foot thumps to the wooden floor.

"What's goin' on in there? You fightin' a runner in there?" Jesse quips, his voice deadened by the walls.

"Ye- No!" Ellie stammers in a rush, managing to yank her jeans up and throw a bland white shirt over it, oblivious to the fact that it was inside-out, seams bulking and tag visible.

You were on the brink of raising a question to Ellie, but bite it back as she swings the door open and you cling to the closet adjacent to but behind the open door, not without a blow from your back against its rattling nature that had Ellie spooked for a split second.

"What're you doing here?" Ellie inquires, crossing her arms to appear unbothered.

"Heard you had quite a night after I left." His voice clarifies, streaming through the open door.

"It-" Her response defects, "She kissed me. Dina being Dina, it doesn't mean anything-"

"Wait, you kissed Dina?" Jesse interjects her reply, voice curving in curiosity.

"Oh, I thought-"

"We're broken up one week and you make a move on my girl?"

"No- She was the one- I don't even.." Ellie corners herself into a distraught state.

"I'm messing with you man, I don't care. I just swung by to tell you Maria switched up the assignments for tomorrow, you're up for more patrol."

"Seriously? I thought I'd get-"

"Hey why's your shirt inside out? Did you really get tangled up with a runner in there?" He jokingly peeks into the room, jolting back when Ellie's forearm bars him out randomly.

"None of your business, I get it now you can go." She sternly affirms, slowly creaking the door closed.

"What'chu hidin' in there?"

"Go!" Ellie strikes the door shut on his face, secretly flipping him off from the opposite site under the knob.

"Unholy fuck-"

"Next time try not to wake the dead with your footsteps!" She snaps back at you through an adorned smile, on edge from the unexpected, interrupting, visit.

"Like I said I can barely walk from your-"

Ellie strides up in a pacey fashion, cradling your head from the back in her palms, linking lips with yours soulfully. 

You press your lips, dawdling with hers and soaking in the taste of breath and flesh. It feels so good to expose your love, animated for her in this moment now, like a singing felicity in your heart. She parts, engulfing you in her olive irises before she croaks.

"Say we.. get back to bed? I wanna show you my drawings.." A sugary murmur trampling her usually husky voice.

"Yeah.." you wriggle your lips in a creeping smirk, leveraging your weight from one leg to the other.

"C'mere." Ellie creaks before tackling you onto the bed, burying you with infinite ticklish kisses along your face, a declaration of unfiltered affection in her lasting intentions.

"Ellie! That tickles.."

"Good."

hope you enjoyed!!! <3

MASTERLIST

#ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams fic #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie x reader #lesbian #sapphic #the last of us #the last of us 2 #wlw #jackson!ellie #ellie wiilliams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie smut

[arctrooper69]

🎊 Congratulations on the milestone!! 🎊

Your writing sparks so much joy, you deserve every single follower (and the many more yet to come!) 😄

I'd like to drop a request for Kix (beloved..), from the hurt/comfort prompts:

"How long did you think you could hide that?" + "I'm sorry you had to see me like that."

And if I may be so bold, reader is the one chastising him? 👀

Thank you so so much for your love and encouragement ❤️❤️❤️ I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to write this! I realize it's been in my inbox for several months now but here it is! I hope you enjoy!

ALSO... I loved this prompt so much and had a similar idea for an OC of mine, so there will be a Kix x OC version of this as well!

Prompt #20: "How long did you think you could hide that?"

Prompt #26: "I'm sorry you had to see me like that."

Beta-read by the amazing @staycalmandhugaclone

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Busy, Busy

Kix is stubborn. He's ways taken care of everybody else. Maybe it's time you took care of him.

Warnings: Mentions of sickness and injury.

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The med bay on the Resolute was quiet for once - not that Kix would ever say that aloud. He didn't want to jinx anything. Every healthcare worker knew that once that Q-word was uttered, all hell would be soon to break loose - a silly superstition, but one that had been proven true time and time again. Kix, however, did not have time to prove or disprove anything like that. He was just glad that none of his co-workers were here to tell him off for being so careless. Especially you.

He must've been allergic to something down on the planet they'd just been on. It was stupid, really - clones weren't supposed to get sick or have allergies.

I'm supposed to be better than this. Kix thought miserably. Yet here he was - snivelling like a child, sinuses so clogged that it felt like his head was in a bubble, and he was so damn tired.

Kriff... if it wasn't for this karking brain fog, maybe he wouldn't have slipped off the loading dock like that - landing on his side among boxes of medical supplies that he just now finished cleaning up.

The med-droid on duty stood quietly in the corner, ready to be turned on should an emergency arise but Kix quickly passed it by, opting to take care of himself in secret.

He groaned quietly, holding his side as he reached for the bacta at the back of the cold-storage unit. He grimaced, gingerly palpating his side with practiced fingers. Nothing felt broken, that was good. Just bruised. Nothing he could really do for bruised ribs. Maybe that was for the best. Kix still had a lot of work to do - reports to file, miles of inventory to catalog, and two med-droids to repair. Just some bacta for the pain and stiffness and maybe a stim for good measure - that would keep him afloat long enough to get all this shit together. Kix was short staffed, very short staffed. You had just finished up a triple, going on quadruple shift when he'd ordered you to get some rest.

"Makes no sense having a sleep deprived medic on the field, not to mention how dangerous that is," he'd scolded, now internally wincing at his own hypocritical actions just hours later.

But you're a clone. You can take a lot more than any nat-born. He nodded to himself, scrambling to find any justification for his actions.

"Alright," he grumbled, "quit stalling, Kix. You've got work to do. Then you can sleep."

He settled down in the small office behind the medbay, bacta on his ribs, a stim in his system, and a large cup of caf in hand - not the best combination, but it would work for the time being.

***

It seemed like only minutes had passed when the door slid open with a hiss. Kriff. He knew it was you despite the boxes of medical supplies that blocked his view and the stacks of datapads littering his desk. He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face, and stood up. He gripped the edge of the desk as a wave of vertigo nearly brought him to his knees.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he grunted out, surprising himself with the way the rough edges of his voice seemed to grate against the dryness of his throat. "I lost track of time."

He heard you shift and lean against the doorway. "That's alright. I figured that's what happened." The tone of your voice did not match the carefree understanding conveyed by your words.

You knew something was wrong.

Kix winced quietly as he eased himself back into his chair. Staying seated and unmoving was the best way for his side to heal up on its own. It was better for you not to see him. Until he could finish these reports, it was better he keep to himself.

"You wanna join me for breakfast?"

Breakfast!? It couldn't be time for breakfast yet. Maybe you'd just woken up early. Very early.

"Kix?" Your voice startled him from his thought-drifting fatigue.

"Huh?"

"I asked you if you wanted to join me for breakfast."

This time the worry in your voice was apparent and Kix felt his heart sink. The last thing he wanted to do was worry you.

"I'm really busy. Another time maybe."

"Kix...

"Your shift doesn't start for another three hours. You shouldn't be here." He snapped.

"Uhh...actually it starts in half an hour," you responded slowly. "Yours on the other hand, was supposed to be over like six hours ago. What are you still doing here?" The question was laced with the same sharpness he'd just directed towards you.

"Quinn called out. Their kid is sick." He spoke of the civilian contractor they'd been assigned.

The black and gold zabrak made a great medtech but, between various other assignments and six children, their appearances in his medbay were few and far between.

"So... you're going on four shifts in a row now?"

Kix grunted. He wished you would stop asking him questions. Talking made his throat feel as though he'd swallowed the general's lighsaber. "I'm fine."

"When was the last time you ate? Or slept!?"

He shrugged absentmindedly, concentrating on the datapad in front of him when it was suddenly snatched from his hand.

"Hey!" His head snapped up, glaring at his fellow medic who met it with an equally annoyed fire in her eyes.

"Give it back!" Kix made a grab for it but was suddenly and painfully reminded of his aching ribs. He collapsed back down into his chair with a defeated hiss of pain at the way the muscles balked at the tension. The movement took his breath away for a moment.

"Kix!" Your surprised cry pounded through his head as you dropped to your knees beside him, eyes widening as you thoroughly surveyed him for the first time since stepping into the room.

"Oh Kix..." you shook your head, reaching for a handheld scanner. He watched with heavy, lidded eyes as you swept the scanner over him slowly and methodically.

You set down the scanner with a sigh, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "Kix, what happened!? Your shift was supposed to end at 2300 hours! You need to go to bed!"

Kix rolled his eyes. Only a few more things to do and then he'd gladly follow your direction.

"Relax, I'll just be a few more minutes! It's only -" he paused, looking at the chrono around his wrist. It read 0725. "Oh."

"Yeah."

He winced at your deadpanned tone. "Sorry. I guess I lost track of time."

"I'll say." You placed the datapad back onto the desk but didn't remove your hand. "You didn't answer my question."

"What question?"

"What the hell happened to you!? You look awful, you sound like your entire head is clogged, and you've got two cracked ribs!"

Oh. Cracked. Not bruised.

He opened his mouth to respond just as one of the datapads let out a beep. You frowned and put a hand up, cutting off yet another desperately fabricated excuse. "And don't tell me Quinn called out. You just got a message from the Admiral asking you why you canceled Quinn's shift."

He sighed defeatedly, suppressing a wince at the twinge of pain in his side. He didn't meet your eyes. "I fell."

"You...fell!?" you questioned, sounding a bit incredulous. "When? How?!" He'd seemed fine when he'd ordered you to take off.

"'Bout an hour after you left," he admitted. "Must've been allergic to something in the dust planetside. I was unloading some supplies, got dizzy, and fell off the loading dock."

"And how long did you think you could hide that?" Your voice had once again taken on that scolding tone which for some reason made him feel both guilty and proud. You'd been a timid shiny when he first met you. Now here you were, taking charge of the situation with an air of authority and sass he likened to one of his generals. He shrugged.

"As long as it took to finish all of this." He motioned to the cluttered desk, immediately regretting the movement causing his ribs to tense painfully again.

Your eyes were piercing - full of concern and disbelief. "Why are you acting like everything is fine!?" you snapped, suddenly angry at his seemingly unphased attitude.

He didn't answer.

You shook your head. “Why didn’t you call me, Kix? If I’d known you weren’t feeling well, I could’ve at least helped you with the work!”

Kix didn't blame you. He'd probably have reacted the same way if he were in your shoes. He looked away.

"I just... I didn't want you to see me like this." he muttered softly. He sounded hoarse and miserable.

You sighed. "Let me get this right....You didn't want me - a medic - to see you sick and injured? So you - also a medic, who should know better, might I add - decided to hide it from everyone so that you could get your work done!? You sent away our best medtech so that you wouldn't be bothered by them realizing something was wrong!?"

Kix frowned. It did sound bad when you put it all out like that.

"Guess that sounds about right."

You stared at him. "That was really dumb, Kix."

"Yeah."

You sighed. "How long has it been since you've eaten anything?"

Kix thought back. When was the last time he'd eaten? His stomach revolted with just the thought. There was no way he'd be able to eat anything right now.

"I...I don't know," he admitted, not meeting your eyes.

You sighed. "Okay, come on. I'm gonna go get you something to eat."

He shook his head, resting it in the palms of his hands, rubbing his eyes. You were right about one thing, he was exhausted. But duty came first.

"I can't. I have so much to do." He nodded to the screen of his datapad. It was full of messages, requests, reports, and a number of reminders and meeting invitations flashed across the screen.

You laid your hand on his shoulder.

"Just humor me, please. Eat something, take a nap - "

Kix shoved your hand from his shoulder, then instantly regretted the action. Maker, if his ribs weren't killing him, he could just scream. All he wanted to do was sleep. But he had work to do. Why couldn't you understand that? He knew he was irritable but his rude reaction towards you - his friend - flooded him with even more guilt.

"I can't! I just can't! Admiral Yularen needs these reports in by tonight and I'm only halfway through them because I got interrupted by General Skywalker needing additional information for the next mission, so I spent two hours tracking that down, come to find out it was all for nothing because the kriffing Jedi council decided to send them elsewhere."

He took a gasping breath. Fire burned through his side, igniting a feral panic that gripped his chest with an icy grasp. His ribs were screaming. His head felt as though he’d been forced beneath the rabid jaws of Kaminoan ocean waves - descending ever downwards, pressure rising in painful crescendos. His hands were shaking and he couldn't make them stop.

"Hey! Kix, hey!" Gentle pressure pulled him from his spiral with a grounding hand rubbing circles on his back. Concern clouded your face as you knelt beside him.

"Breathe, Kix. I need you to breathe."

"Can't," he panted.

"I know," you responded evenly, holding an oxygen mask to his nose and mouth. "Just do the best you can."

"No!" He swatted the mask from your hand. He really had to get this done. Just a little while longer, then he'd rest - then he'd let you do whatever you needed to do.

You pursed your lips looking at the delirious medic in front of you.

"You know, I really didn't want to have to do this but I - "

Kix rolled his eyes, unconsciously gripping the oxygen to his face as he took another short, gasping breath. He knew what you'd say next. It was the same thing he'd say to Captain Rex, or even General Skywalker when they fought him on coming to the medbay.

"Are you really gonna pull the medic rank card on me?" He interrupted.

"Do I have to?" You looked pointedly at him. You were annoyed, yes, but you were also concerned. He knew you'd seen dying patients with more life in their eyes than he currently did.

He looked down at the long list of tasks he had yet to do and sighed in defeat. "No. I guess not."

"Good."

He couldn't identify the look on your face as he allowed you to lead him to a bed. Your hand lingered on his arm for a moment too long as you delivered a sedative into his veins. But for some reason he didn't mind.

"Don't worry, Kix." you said softly as you watched his eyes flutter shut. "You're safe. I'll take it from here."

Kix allowed himself to succumb to the peaceful allure of sleep even as your words echoed through his brain. "Let me take care of you, you stupid, beautiful, stubborn man."

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If you want to be on my taglist, feel free to send me a message! Also, asks are open! Reblogging is very much encouraged and it makes me do a happy dance every time any of my writing gets reblogged 😂❤️

#kix #clone medic kix #tcw kix x reader #tcw kix x you #clone medic kix x reader #clone medic kix x you #tcw kix #star wars #star wars the clone wars #clone wars #swtcw #sw tcw #the bad batch #sw tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb echo #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb omega #clone medic #clone medic x reader #clone medic x you #tcw x reader #tcw x you #tcw general skywalker #anakin skywalker #captain rex #clone medic kix imagine #tcw kix imagine

[greenlyren12]

Respite

Summary: A moment of vulnerability with Crosshair in the Marauder.

Pairing: Crosshair x (gn) reader

Warnings: Injury, needles, angst. Tell me if i missed something!

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: This is my first fic ever and english isn't my first langauge so sorry for any mistakes! Feedback is greatly appreciated. :)

GR.

There it was, the anxiety that burned up your insides whenever you saw him. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, if truth be told you sought it out. The way your limbs tensed up, your breath hitched and mind clogged up. Words were hard to find, each syllable flying away from your head. His mere presence made you shake with the need of air. He was the only thing you could focus on, your focal point. The cynical sniper made you feel alive, or at least that’s what you told yourself.

You stood in the back of the Marauder. Trying to collect yourself by busying your scattered mind with the medical supplies in front of you.

The smell isn’t getting any better you thought and let out a silent chuckle.

Your eyebrows relaxed after you realized you were frowning. You tried using the stim-shot placed in your calloused palms as an anchor for your thoughts. This simple task was taking a way bigger toll on you than it should’ve had, if it even should’ve had in the first place, but you couldn’t focus. And how could you? Your sniper was silent, more so than usual.

Crosshair was sitting soundlessly in the cockpit of the ship.

The medicament you were preparing was for him. He had been quiet since they got back from their last mission. Even the perfect soldier he is, he got injured. You later found out his dominant hand got fractured. It wasn’t anything that wouldn’t heal, but he needed a few weeks off the battle field.

You knew the effect it would have on him, his work was what gave his life meaning. His family, his brothers were intertwined in this wretched war. Therefore he couldn’t be among them, couldn’t protect them. Sadly, that’s what the clones we bred for – battle. To give their life for a cause most of them couldn’t even comprehend.

So you knew the reason his abnormal quietness, he felt futile. Crosshair would never admit it but you knew. He felt pointless, useless. You wanted to make him feel better, yearned for his happiness, but you knew bothering him about it wasn’t going to help. If he wanted to open up to you - he would. You grew to wordlessly understand each other. A simple look would mean the world to the other. That’s how you loved each other.

You finally managed to prepare the Bacta treatment - now the hard part. You had to face him. Your body was already tense with worry, he was unpredictable. He didn’t scare you but you didn’t want to get on his bad side either. Crosshair had trouble accepting care, it made him feel pathetic and he despised it.

Having a childhood on Kamino was hard enough as it was but he was different, his brothers were different. He was a defect and the Kamino rain did not accept misfits easily. The other clone cadets disliked them, plain and simple, the only thing he had was his brothers. Sadly, the sniper learned early on in his childhood that the only person he could rely on was himself.

Your heart ached for him.

Crosshair’s specialization didn’t make it any easier either, his was cast out his whole life. His battle position made him isolated. Your beloved was taught to be invisible, precise, quiet. When you entered his life he had a hard time accepting your love, but he cherished it quietly in his own way.

You strolled through the shuttle’s fuselage with the stim-shot in hand. Silently, you tried entering the cockpit even though you knew he could sense you from the other side of the ship.

Crosshair was on the pilot seat, gazing out the window, toothpick in mouth. His jaw was clenched. The atmosphere was tense. His eyebrows were furrowed, arms crossed stiffly protecting his chest. The control panel illuminating his handsome face in blue and red.

 His silver locks were starting to grow again you thought. One of your dearest memories was when he sheepishly asked you to cut his hair for the first time. You were beyond surprised, but of course happily obliged. Since then you’ve cut his hair for him when the Batch go out on missions. In the back of the Havoc Marauder, sharing tender moments which the war rarely allowed you to have.

¨You’re staring.” he plainly stated, avoiding your gaze.

Your heart skipped a beat. You involuntary gulped and tried to compose yourself by taking the seat next to him. He was unreadable as always. The stim-shot felt heavy in your palm.

“Sorry.” you muttered, giving him a crooked smile in an attempt to soothe him.

It worked. He turned the chair so he could face you and finally looked you in the eyes. Maker those eyes. Copper, sharp with intent. You could lose yourself in them and currently were. He returned your gesture with a smile of his own. A small one for sure, but you knew he meant it.

You held your free hand out. It hung in the air, an inaudible welcome. His eyes swiftly ran from yours to your hand and back to your gaze. He smirked, sighed in fake annoyance and reached out with his bad arm and placed it in yours. He waited and so did you. His sleeve had to be rolled up so you could inject the remedy.

 ��Do you expect me to roll it up?” you remarked, irritated.

 “If you would be so kind.” he retorted. He was toying with you.

“Okay then, tough guy” you smirked and roughly tugged the sleeve of his blacks up so it would hurt just enough.

He winced and unconsciously tried to pull his hand away but you held on tight. This was your game, always trying to one each other up. You both laughed quietly.

You placed his hand on your lap and grabbed his arm below the shoulder.

“Ready?” you asked, trying to belittle him. Of course he was, he was one of the best soldiers the GAR had.

“Always am, boss” he replied sharply.

You injected the needle into his bruised skin and looked up to check if he was in any pain. He was calm as always, this seemed to have a bigger effect on you than it had on him. It made you angry and he noticed. You pulled the needle out of his skin and placed the shot on the panel next to you.

You huffed. Crosshair allowed himself to have a reaction, he was amused, but you couldn’t notice – you were avoiding his stare. This time you gently pulled down the sleeve of his shirt and softly patted him so he could take his hand away, but he wouldn’t budge. You looked up at him questioningly. He gently squeezed your palm.

“You’re trembling” Crosshair said. It was more of a question, rather than one of his usual venomous remarks.

“How do you always seem so unaffected?” he understood your double-barreled question.

Instead of verbally answering, he took your hand and guided it to his heart.

The sniper looked at you sternly. Crosshair took you off guard, physical touch was rare, especially initiated by him. You could feel his heart beating rapidly beneath your fingertips.

You understood immediately. You had the same impact on him that he had on you, he was just better at concealing it.

Your heart melted. He could see it on your face – you loved him unconditionally. He stood up from his seat and loomed over you, putting his hands on the chair handles, caging you in.

The bacta was working.

He was incredibly close to your face, never breaking eye contact. You weren’t either, you didn’t feel nervous anymore, you weren’t more sure of anything in your life before actually.

You broke the silence. “Cross the man that you are.” you let out a laugh.

He smiled back without a response, not that you needed one.

“You know it’s not your fault, right?” You said while gently caressing his injured arm.

You had to reassure him, to make him not feel guilty. He was already doing enough, too much even, giving his life for people who thought of him as property. You hated it, wanted to take him away. To show him what life was like.

You cupped his cheek.

“I know cyar'ika” the sniper gently replied, leaning into your touch. “But I’m worried” he continued. Even this was hard for him, you understood. He wanted to look out for his brothers, so you pushed him no more.

“They can take care of themselves, so let me take care of you?” you questioned with a pleading look.

He couldn’t help but smile so he hid his face in your neck, your seemingly emotionless sniper embraced you in a hug. It took you a few seconds to react. To say he surprised you would be an understatement but you hugged him back. Your fingers found their way to the base of his neck where you stroked his silver hair. You unintentionally tugged at his locks and he grunted. You tried to suppress a laugh but just couldn’t.

“You’re being quite responsive today, aren’t you?” you bit.

“And whose fault is that?” you could feel him smiling.

He pulled back but face still close, your noses almost touching. His eyes searched in yours. You had this 6’4 ft tall man in the palm of your hand looking at you like a puppy.

“Your hair is getting long, I think it’s time for a haircut” you grinned.  

He tried to look at himself in the reflection of the ship’s window but you knew he couldn’t. He was trying to amuse you.

“You think so?” he smirked.

“I do.” you smirked back.

He nudged your nose with his own while looking at your lips. You understood the hint.

You decided to flip the tables for once. You had enough of him making you feel tipsy alone on his presence.

You leaned in and kissed him first, successfully managing to take him by surprise. Crosshair stumbled back a bit. It didn’t take long for the soldier to regain his footing though. He loomed over you, moving his hands closer.

It was a slow kiss, he took his time. Crosshair knew he had a hard time with words so he tried to convey his overwhelming feelings this way and oh. Maker did you feel it.

He may try to hide it but his emotions were like waves crashing into the rocky shore, unapologetic and hard. And you could sense every bit of it. He was putting his whole being into connecting with you, showing you how much he cared.

You pulled back in need of air. Both of you were gasping messes, happy gasping messes. The only thing you could feel in that moment was him. The only beings in the whole universe were the two of you.

Your blissful moment was interrupted by the commlink placed next to the control panel.

“Tech found the part he was looking for, we’re coming back. Prepare the ship for takeoff” Hunter grumbled.

Crosshair and you sighed in union.

You looked at him sweetly and placed your hand on the side of his forehead. Your thumb traced down his tan skin, you gazed at him like he was going to disappear every second. You were so scared of losing him, you felt like he would vanish from under your fingertips at any given second. Your thumb ran over his tattoo, he was still as a mouse.

You quickly pecked him on the tip of the nose and stood up from your seat and below him. Cross scrunched his whole face like the cat he was.

“Where are you going?” he allowed himself to sound disappointed.

You grabbed the stim-shot from the control panel and turned on your heel on your way to the back of the ship.

‘’Hunter said to prepare the ship, didn’t he?” you genuinely responded.

Crosshair followed behind your back.

You put the medpac on the counter and opened it. Crosshair put his chin on your shoulder and intertwined his long arms around your waist. You could feel him smelling your hair, he couldn’t get enough of you.

You started reorganizing the medicine in the pack and putting the stim-shot back in. He certainly made it harder than it was supposed to be.

You put the remedy back in it’s place and the medpac under the counter with Cross following. You turned around to face him and embraced him back. Both of you stayed quiet, enjoying your presence.

“I love you.” You mumbled against his chest.

“I know” Crosshair replied.

#the bad batch #tbb fanfiction #bad batch #crosshair #bad batch crosshair #crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #crosshair fanfiction #angst #fluff #clone trooper crosshair #commander crosshair #crosshair fic #star wars #star wars fan fiction #reader x crosshair #ct 9904 #the bad batch fanfiction #tcw #tcw fanfic

[silly-mouse]

Hi! Puppy anon here! Can I possibly get a Ranboo w/ platonic nb reader who stims, please? Like, they flap their hands, echo noises, rock, etc? And maybe similar to how George is patient with Dream's stims, Ranboo and reader can be doing a face stream and reader just starts stimming, and then wants a hug from Ranboo? Idk, little brain dump from me. Thank you!!

super cute idea homes

Platonic!Ranboo x gn!reader, ~225 words, stimming, hugging, no pronouns used

You were positively vibing. 

“I think we should romance the hipster vampire guy,” Ranboo mused as if you weren’t trying to shake your fingers out of their sockets. “At least this time around.”

You hummed in agreement. “The hipst- hipster! Hipster!” You turned and coughed into your elbow, trying to clear the word from your throat. “Yeah, I like the- him, I like him.”

“Don’t worry, chat, we’ll get around to everyone. We’ll be here all night if we have to.”

“All night, all night,” 

“Got that right.”

You giggled to yourself, feeling an absurd amount of glee fill your chest at having someone not only positively acknowledge your stimming, but respond. You found your hands tugging on your friend’s sleeve to get his attention.

“Sup?”

“Sup!” You’d meant to ask for a hug, but your throat was clogged. It felt like the connection between your brain and tongue was broken, tongue connected to your ears instead. You crossed your arms like an ‘X’ over your chest, watching Ranboo’s eyes light up.

“Aww,” he cooed, hauling you into his chest. The steady, firm pressure surrounding you felt like a brand-new kind of stimming. If shaking your hands released little sprinkles of energy, you just exploded like a nuke. “My favorite tiny needs affection.”

Feelings over, the giant dies tonight.

#sillysqueaks #sillymouse #fanfic #fanfiction #squeaks #fluff #x reader #platonic x reader #platonic #gn!reader #gn reader #nb reader #nb!reader #ranboo

[jerma-985]

28 & 38 for the ask post!!

28: Do you collect anything?

YES! I collect figures, Jerma merch, csm manga, pokemon cards, and snowglobes...

I shall show under the cut

I already answered 38 so ill do 39!

39: Youtuber you have been obsessed with and why?

Hmm I havent been super youtube brained lately but definitely check out Nick DiRamio on youtube! They are so under rated and are a queer youtuber!!! He covers bad shows/movies and also reviews drama.

Now time to show all my stuffs

First I will show my snowglobes!!

I have got some of these from myself and family members. My oldest snowglobe is the paris one that has leaked/had water just disappear from it. My mimi gave it to me when i was a kid and i treasure it a lot. I used to stim with it so much as a kid. A majority of these are from Orange Beach because I used to vacation there a lot with my family. The thing on the bottom far right isnt a snowglobe its just some resin thing we found in the house. I would love to have a glass case full of snowglobes in the future... grandpacore

Here is some of my csm manga. I always forget to remember which ones i do and dont have when I go to barnes and noble so thats why theres no 7th volume lol

Some of my pokemon cards (just the ones i have displayed on my desk) and one signed kurtis conner mock pokemon card

AND NOW

PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR MY JERMA MERCH COLLECTIONNNNN

First I will start with my favorites

My jerma dollhouse poster that was signed by ludwig, jerma, and kitboga. Its my favorite jerma merch I own besides my...

SIGNED USED IN GAME BASEBALL USED IN THE JERMA BASEBALL STREAM

The Jerma Baseball stream was so fucking fun and I am a fan of the sport so naturally I had to get this baseball. Pictured you can also see my Grotto Beasts 2 player starter kit and a Jerma mug I painted at a pottery place lol.

I also have these keychains that were made by @absterarts and Femiyr on IG

You should check out their stores! ABSTERARTS | FEMIYR

Now for my favorite poster in terms of design

this grottobeasts B.F. Bugleberry poster!!!!

I also have the jerma baseball poster and a couple things a friend made for me

NOT PICTURED are all my jerma stickers and my infamous jerma bumpersticker. This post is already clogged enough!!!!

#ask #long post #i will put this in the #jerma985 #tag for my blogs archival purposes #ratboyugly

[babey-lewis]

You're weird.

Ashe (she/they) tells her friend Jules (she/her) about her regression. Only Jules doesn't appreciate being told about it.

Tw: angst no happy ending, brief and non descript mention of k!nk, not for tiny tots.

Tears welled up in Ashes as the noises from the party overwhelm them. Children were screaming, and grown-ups were talking and laughing loudly. It was too late for all this. It was all too much, and all Ashe wanted to do was regress and stim until she fell asleep.

After a loud bang of a balloon popping, the young woman dashed out of the room and to their car, the tears pouring out freely now.

Jules' head picked up, watching her friend dash out of the house; she quickly followed.

Ashe was fully regressed now, hands flapping wildly around their face; tears coming down her red cheeks. She was having a meltdown and she couldn't stop it no matter what she did. Chewing her gum didn't help, sour lollies didn't help, and her breathing tools didn't help. What was she supposed to do?

Jules opened the car door, seeing her friend in their upset. "Ashe?" She murmured. "You okay?"

Ashe shook her head no quickly. "I-i- I'm so-sorry!" She hicced out. "I-i-im sma-s-small!" She managed to get out before bursting into tears again.

"Um, small? Small what?" Jules asked carefully.

"I'm a regressor!" Ashe groaned, her throat clogged with tears.

"Like, you... do weird stuff? Like pretend to be a baby?" There was a pause. "God, Ashe, I didn't think you were this messed up! How could you! You are so gross!" Jules screamed before slaming the door shut and stomping back into the house, leaving Ashe to cry even harder.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Ashe whispered, starting their car sp they could get away. "I'm not yucky.." She sniffed. "Not yucky."

It was a long drive home, and she cried every second of the way there.

#agere #age regression #agere blog #sfw agere #age regressor #agere community #sfw age regression #agerespace #agere positivity #caregiver #agere stories #agere story #ok little story time #short story #headcannons #agere writing #sfw writing #not for tiny tots #tw angst #no happy ending

[loosey-furr]

Hello!!! Welcome to my Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss side blog...!

My main blog is @virusgeist

Decided to actually make a side blog based around one of my interests since this one seems to be the strongest out of everything else. Didn't wanna clog up my main with brainrot. Plus wanted to reblog all these pretty arts cause people be talented and funny.

...

...

THE WAY I TAG SHIT HERE:

- I tag all of the individual characters (Asmodeus is Ozzie because I'm dyslexic and can't spell, LOL.)

- I tag #talkies for my own ramblings but probably not much cause I'm shy

- I tag related hellaverse content videos as #video, edits as #edit, moodboards as #moodboard, stimboards as #stim, quizzes as #quiz, polls as #polls, OCs as #ocs, cosplays as #cosplay

- I try my best to tag potentially triggering topics

- Don't feel the need to tag ships... so sorry if you see one you don't like to see. (My top ones are Charlie x Vaggie, Husk x Angel Dust and Lucifer x Alastor so warning there we go. Probably have a few other sprinkled in...)

- This is a Valentino hater blog so he probably won't be on here much unless he's a side character

- Also no HH/HB critical shit here I'm here to enjoy things

[metfell]

i think what im going to do is go through tmmyrp's posts and add character tags, thread tags, remove tags on posts that dont need them anymore (read: like adding tmmyspeak to threads), stuff like that. thank god for the mass post editor with xkit. i tested it out when stelle wanted a tag for all her stim posts and it worked really well so maybe this will save us

i think im gonna go with animal crossing or minecraft related stuff for each character, or maybe some kind of joke. i also need to make sure the tags arent already used for stuff, bc it would suck to make tubbos tag like... the bestie or something and then that tag gets fucking clogged by stupid roleplay shit

#text #bedrockverse #bell text

[la-la-lavandee]

Literally you and NONE of your followers give a fuck abt this. Please stop hate campaigning people, it’s clogging the vibes. Fail stimming

Credit your stimboards. Artists made those pieces and there's a reason we credit them.

#ask #heads up #lavandee dialogue

[daftpatience]

What do you like about stationary? I loved reading your analysis of Kim's notebook and it made me realize there's a whole world of stationary I had no idea about haha

ohh drawing is a big stim for me, i adore the sensation of writing instruments on paper. plus im very much an art supply hoarder and love love love having pencilcases and notebooks and pens and markers and erasers and all that stuff. stationery shops are one of my many happy places! i could browse jetpens for hoursss lol

also the process of papermaking is fascinating to me! ive done a little myself and it just makes me really appreciate what nice paper feels like, which goes extra for archival and fountain pen friendly paper. i love the glide of a nice pen on some good paper that doesn't feather or bleed, and as a kid i was super obsessed with finding the ~perfect~ gel pens and markers and stuff like that. i remember obsessively hunting down copic markers and gelly rolls and that one white ink gel pen people use for highlights on their drawings and stuff. most of my work is digital nowadays but i still do a lot of scribbling on paper!

i got into fountain pens as a teen when an old guy gifted my mom a bag of old pens and ink and stuff - there was one fountain pen in there, it was all dirty and clogged so i was using it just as a dip pen for awhile and i absolutely loved the writing experience! i tried to clean it and broke it (it was.... a two hundred dollar pen.....cries) so after that out of guilt and fascination i got really into researching about fountain pens and using them. now i have my little collection of babies, and that fancy old pen is in a box waiting to be shipped to the original manufacturers for repair someday when im super rich or something.

#i like do art i like collect art supply #im autism so it becomes a bit more of a technical obsession than a casual interest #but im still no expert on things lol

[pentanguine]

Life and Such

I finished my grad program! I AM FREE from academia!! (except for the part where I want to work in academia)

I vanished into the woods last Saturday as a treat to myself, and I had the best time. I sat on a hill overlooking the lake and watched the sun sparkle in brilliant diamonds over deep blue water. I lay on pine needles soft as a bed and read a book, with no sound but the birds and the wind. I wandered alone through tall pines and passed so many vernal pools that spilled out onto the path. I saw a family of geese with fluffy goslings, and I met someone who complimented my Sigur Rós t-shirt (if you’re going to meet someone who compliments your Sigur Rós t-shirt, it’s probably going to be in the middle of the woods). The whole day was just soul-restoring. I hiked nine miles over eight hours and had an amazing time :)

Went for a picnic and a walk around a pond with @eclipsemidnight​ on Sunday, which was very nice (there were swings! and flowers!) and then I went to another pond after work one day and got devoured by mosquitos while looking at swans and herons in the reeds across the water

I actually have a lot of friends? Something I periodically re-realize about myself is that underneath the withering social anxiety, I’m actually sort of…social? I like people? I like having lots of friends? I have my close friends from college, a couple friends from my hometown, my roommates, and friends from my grad program, plus there’s a local trans group I go to periodically and a weekly trivia night I go to, and that’s like…a robust social life? On occasion I am overwhelmed by all the social commitments I have? But they’re fun, because I like all these people and want to keep them in my life? Every sentence here ends in a question mark because this is so wildly outside of how I see myself, but compelling evidence indicates that I have many friends and enjoy being social with them. Wow.

I’m just not very ambitious. I like my chosen field, and I’m excited to work in it, but I really just want A Job, any job. Meanwhile my classmates are pursuing high level research instruction positions etc, and…I just don’t really care what I do. I want a job I enjoy that I feel like has some meaning in the world, and I want to do it quietly and well and forget about it when I leave at the end of the day.

My roommate pointed out a while ago that I only eat three vegetables (spinach, brussels sprouts, and broccoli, with an honorable mention to asparagus), and so I’m embarking on a Quest to try a new vegetable every week. This week it was peppers, specifically red bell peppers, which were…decent. At first I just threw them in a pan with some eggs to make some kind of scramble, which was ok, and then I tried olive oil and some herbs, which was…also not delicious, but fine. I’ll eat them again, but I think I need to experiment with method.

Park weather is upon us!!! which means that at every conceivable opportunity I’ve been haring off to patches of trees with a good book and stretching out in the sunlight. The sudden advent of park weather also coincides with the end of school for a) me!! and b) the college whose students always clog up my commute to work, meaning that the structure and texture of my days has improved dramatically

I’m obsessed with Enter Shikari’s new song Jailbreak, which sounds like it’s designed for building up the crowd into a fucking awesome mosh pit, but I dearly wish moshing had weight classes, because while I love running and jumping around and slamming into things, most people in the pit are twice my body weight and that’s not fun dancing/proprioceptive stimming, that’s dangerous. In the meantime I’m just throwing myself around my room and annoying the neighbors

I’m trying to have new and varied hobbies, and part of that is spending less time reading books, which is entirely…uh, novel for me. I am very much the kind of person who’s sort of a book first and a human second, and reading is such a default part of my life I don’t even really think of it as a hobby. Historically my instinct is “read!” every time I have even a second of free time. But I want to have other hobbies and do new things! I have never organically wanted this before so it’s a bit bemusing, but I am starting by trying to embroider more and also make some really shitty baby zines.

#my usual spate of unreasonably sized pictures under the cut #personal #python rambles