#COOL GLOWSTICK EYES!!!

[prismaticpichu]

Would you ever become a Shinra SOLDIER

Oooh, good question!!!

I’m gonna say my answer’s contingent on the era 😂❤️ HARD PASS on OG, BC, FS, AC & Dirge timelines… But Crisis Core?? 110%!! And not because I wanna fuel the cycle of vampiric planet blood leeching or military dictatorship, but for one simple reason and one reason alone:

I GET TO HANG WITH THE FIRST CLASS CLOWNS WOOOOOOOO!!!! *squeaks horn* 🎉🎉🎉🤡🤡

Oh! And maybe stop the training room incident while I’m at it <333

[thepastdied]

No Filter

eddie munson x fem!reader FLUFF

18+ because some sexual themes. Overall, just fluff

Word Count: 2.1k

Eddie is drunk and whiny because he's jealous of Steve. Not my gif. Would have tagged if I knew.

part 2 out now

A heavy arm clad in leather slumped around your shoulders.

You turned your head and were met with your alcohol reeking best friend, Eddie.

"Well helllllloo there, pretty girl. Come here often?" He winked at you, eyes hazy and body swaying.

"Eddie, this is my house." You laughed through your nose and wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him.

Music thumped throughout your house, and people were scattered in each corner. You weren't necessarily popular, but it was you and Eddie's idea to throw a party so he could make some quick cash. With the help of King Steve, of course. Seeing how he was already drunk, he must have already made his rounds. Unfortunately you had to work and didn't arrive until around 9 pm, about 3 hours into the party. Eddie was absolutely wasted and probably was on something else, too. You never knew with him.

"Steve.. the fuck is in this?" You took a sip of your drink and cringed. He laughed and shrugged, taking a sip and mirroring your reaction.

"Huh." Eddie huffed next to you, eyes narrowing and darting back and forth between you two.

"Should we whip together a new punch? May have put a little bit too much rum in this one." Steve pinched his thumb and pointer finger together, taking a couple steps back in the direction of your kitchen.

You were about to follow him when Eddie's arm tightened around you, leather squeaking against your shoulder. You looked at him quizzically when he let out a whiny groan.

"Eddie.. What's up? Do you feel okay?" He pulled his arm off you so that you could face him.

His cheeks were flushed and eyes hooded as he gazed down at you.

"Jus' want you to stay with me 's all.." He clumsily placed a hand on your waist and pulled you toward him. "You always gotta be aroun' King Steve… hmph." His lips turned down into a pout.

Your brain short circuited and you stared at him trying to piece together what's making him so mopey. Of course you were often around Steve. Though he hasn't asked you out yet, there was definitely something going on between you two.

You nervously laughed and gripped the front of his leather jacket as he stumbled back a bit. Your head was getting fuzzy yourself and you wished you were able to think a bit clearer.

"I think you should take a rest, Eds.." Your eyes trailed around the living room, pushing him toward the half empty sofa.

His fingers tightened on your waist as he was about to sit down and you pulled yourself from his grip gently. His lips turned down even more and he slumped his shoulders before he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

"Fine. Go with your new boyfriend 'cause he's just s' cool with his cool hair and his cool coolness." He waved you off as he dramatically crossed his arms like a kid and huffed.

"Stop being a baby. I'll be right back." You gave him a deadpan expression and stuck your tongue out, tapping your shoe against his before going into the kitchen.

Steve was sitting on the counter with his arms crossed, various bottles of liquor, mixers, and other drinks littered across your island table.

"Soo.." He kicked himself off the counter to stand beside you, eyes scanning over all the ingredients.

"Is Eddie alright?" He itched the back of his neck as his eyes peeked through the doorway to where Eddie sat, still grumpy but now playing with a glowstick that someone left on the coffee table. Him and Steve were friends, actually, but he was so blasted that he was letting his feelings show a little too much.

"He's fine.." You laughed, shaking your head. "Such a big baby."

You both made the new punch and talked about random stuff, almost an hour passing before Eddie waddled in the kitchen.

"You two lovebirds done yet? I'm thirsty." He leaned his shoulder on the doorframe, seemingly a little less drunk than before as he scowled at Steve.

You gave him an annoyed look at his comment before filling a cup and handing it to him, which he just took from you and set it on the counter.

He stared at Steve with his tongue in his cheek before kissing his teeth and grabbing his cup before disappearing again.

You opened your mouth to call for him as Steve put a hand on your shoulder.

"You should uh.. go check on him." He nodded his head toward the door.

You clenched your teeth as you weaved in and out of people. You were pissed, to say the least, because it felt like you were babysitting instead of enjoying the party. It took you almost twenty minutes to find Mr. Crankypants laying in your backyard. You trudged over to him, fists clenched by your sides and the water bottle you were holding crunching in your grip.

"Eddie, what is wrong with you?" You looked down at him, crossing your arms.

His eyes left the stars and met yours, widening as he stuck an arm up and pointed at you.

"Ah! My favorite star just appeared!!" He yelled, hand flapping in excitement.

You struggled to keep the scowl on your face, failing miserably as Eddie beamed at you, laughing at himself.

You sighed as he stood up, dusting himself off and eyes looking into yours fondly.

"You okay?" You stepped forward and placed a hand on his arm.

He let himself fall forward and stuffed his face into your neck, arms clenching around your waist.

"Woa-"

"Miss you, sweetheart.." He mumbled, lips brushing up against your neck.

"You're the one who ran off, silly." You hugged him tighter.

"Y-yeah but…" His voice cracked and you pinched your eyebrows together.

"Don' go with him, please." Eddie stuffed his face further into your neck when you tried to pull away.

You'd never been this close before, aside from his side hugs.

"What are you talking about, Eddie." You whispered.

He sighed, hot breath warming your throat. You pulled back and looked into his eyes, waiting for an explanation.

"Uhm.." He furrowed his eyebrows and puckered his lips.

"What're we talking about?" He quirked an eyebrow up. "Too much vodka-"

You rolled your eyes and pinched his cheek.

"Eddie. You don't want me around Steve." You blurted out, patience wearing thin.

His mouth opened and closed, lips turning downward and eyes glazing over with tears. You gasped and put your hands up.

"H-hey, it's fine- we don't have to talk about it." You hurriedly tried to change the subject.

He bowed his head down and sniffled as a tear rolled down his nose. Your heart sank when you tried to grab his hand, his whole body shrinking away from you. You said his name again but he only shook his head, huffing as more tears came out.

"Jus' wish I had a chance 's all." He hiccuped and angrily wiped his face with his sleeve, hair covering his face from your view. "- don't know how t'do this sorta thing like him." Another sniffle escaped him as he stepped further away from you.

The lump in your throat grew as you realized what the problem here was. He liked you and didn't want you to go with Steve. You mentally slapped yourself for being so blind to it.

You hopped forward and grabbed his hand, pulling him back toward you and walking further into your yard, away from the several nosey eyes that were in Eddie.

You pushed his hair from his face, all wet due to his tears. He felt so embarrassed, confessing his feelings in this drunken state. But he just couldn't control what came out of his mouth. This wasn't planned. He never intended to tell you, was going to let you be with Steve because he knew deep down he was better for you. His low self esteem was what truly kept him from actually asking you out.

Your own eyes watered when you saw his tear stained face. His eyelashes soaked with fresh tears, face red and puffy. He took a deep breath and swallowed the saliva that collected in his mouth before lifting his hand to take a sip of his drink.

You giggled when his eyes quizzically looked at his empty hand and head turned to see his cup empty on the ground. His eyes met yours again, pinching at the corners as he lazily smiled at you. You handed him the water bottle you'd been holding.

"I think we should talk about this when you're not drunk, okay?" You leaned your head forward to peek under his curtain of hair that he suddenly flicked in front of his face.

"Mhm.."

"But… don't be sad. We are on the same page here, okay? I.. I won't go to him. I know what you're trying to say." You gently whispered and sighed in relief when he simply nodded back.

You pulled him into a hug and he hummed as he let the water bottle fall to the ground, his heart hammering against your chest.

"Look so pretty tonight.." He mumbled as his arms snaked around your waist, lower than they had been before.

You felt tingles run throughout your body due to both the tone of his voice and the path his hands were on. Eddie's palms smoothed over your lower back as he pulled you in more, if that was even possible.

You hummed and thanked him for the compliment, your face feeling hot.

"-always look s'pretty. But never seen you in a dress like this before.." Your lower belly began to feel hot as his lips brushed against your neck while he talked. He could have moved his head so his chin was resting on your shoulder. He knew what he was doing.

"T-thank you, Eds.." You gulped and his eyes shot open, smirking as he continued moving his hands.

"Hmm.. love it when you call me that." You could feel his teeth in your neck now, mouth fully on your skin as he spoke.

Your breath hitched when he placed the most gentle kiss behind your ear, lips barely touching your skin as they trailed down your neck and placed another peck before he sloppily began to mouth at the flesh there. He panted as he nibbled and kissed messily all over your neck, the night air feeling cool against your wet skin.

"E-eddie." You breathed out.

Eddie grunted and laughed when you tugged on his hair, pulling his head back. Your face felt like it was on fire and you were grateful it was dark.

"S-sorry." He snorted out a laugh nervously and started to shimmy off his jacket, getting annoyed when it got stuck on his arm. " s'hot out."

Your chest raised with each breath as you watched him. How the fuck could you even allow yourself to go out with someone else after the one you truly liked confessed to you? And he went at your neck like a fucking vampire-

"Mmm.. miss you." He croaked up at you, his voice weak from when he had been crying.

You blinked down at him to where he was now sitting, arms reaching out to you.

"Please don' go back to him." He pouted again and a laugh bubbled in your throat as you sat next to him.

"Well how am I supposed to after that?" You wiped a hand over your face and sighed.

He stared at you, eyes struggling to stay focused on yours when your neck was so visible.

"Need to do this side too-" He quickly scooted so his body was pressed against yours and latched his lips onto your neck, sucking the skin between his teeth and letting his tongue dart out.

"Eddie!" You gasped loudly as you pushed him away and laughed incredulously, slapping a hand over where you know a hickey is.

"Don't… don't tell me there's a mar-"

"Uh-huh there's mos' definitely a mark." He snickered at you and clumsily made his way onto his feet, eyes filled with lust as he watched you lick your lips and squeeze your thighs together. His legs stumbled a bit as he didn't have you to hang on to and he looked toward the house. Fuck, he was so hard.

"Gotta piss- be back in like.. fifteen." He held up 4 fingers.

You stifle a laugh and nod, wanting him to leave so you can fan your face. You were fucking sweating.

" 'f I wasn't so drunk… hmph." He put two fingers down out of the four he still had up and made a V, sticking his tongue out and obnoxiously laughing when you covered your face at the gesture.

" 'm actually going to jack off, I lied-"

"Eddie! Can you please leave!!" You laid on your back and covered your face, still laughing.

"Alright alright, sorry- no filter right now, sweetheart."

Your friendship will definitely never be the same.

Next part (18+) ->

updated 5/5

[idontcaboose]

Haunted car Au part 18

Previous. Masterpost

It was a while before Hood and Duke got done mother henning him about his entire situation, and after their private phone call they seemed to be making a plan.

Turns out, the Red Hood was a pretty cool guy. If you ignore the cursing that would have all the grandmas back home fainting, finding a switch, or grabbing soap. Either way, they would also tell your mom and a grounding would be the kindest punishment. 

Wait…. Does that mean he can curse here? 

…….

“I AM TIRED OF THESE MOTHERFUCKING SNAKES ON THIS MOTHERFUCKING PLANE!”

This is now officially the best day of his life….

“LANGUAGE!” 

……...Hypocrites

---

“So?”

“'So’ what Glowstick?”

“Do we have any plan other than ‘Wait for the magic guys’?” 

Hood snorted.  “Not really. Why, you got a plan?”

“Well, I don't know about you, but I dont think Danny knows how to drive, and I am willing to bet he would like to learn how to drive if they take their time getting here-” 

“Are you asking to take Danny for a joyride?” Hood asked incredulously.

“What do you say Danny?” Duke was smiling with mischief in his eyes.

“HELL YA!” 

Next

@kizzer55555 @sebas-nights @candeartist422 @trappednyourheart @fandom-life-corrupted-me @tkiesai @2lbballpeenhammer @admiralwidow @rewrittenwrongs @whotfevenknowsanymore @symmetricalastigmatism

@thespacedragons

@atinygracie @okami-love

@lesbian-spider-drone @1n0sss @forgetmenot-bluepurple @ehobep

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Bed Of Electric Flowers (18+ Vox x Reader)

Vox x Reader Rated: Adult Content: Established long term relationship, Sex pollen trope, sex toy use, female masterbation, Vox's glowstick dick, way too many tv details, Male receiving oral, cowgirl, vox blue screens, missionary.

Summary: A unexpected floral arrangement is delivered to your door as you're trying to ignore the lingering absence of your flat faced boyfriend. When Vox returns home and finds you in a compromising position, he's eager to assist even without a clue as to what has you so worked up.

AN- Header done in part by the wonderful, amazing, fantastical @redvexillum (I could cry it looks so good- that’s a lie, I *am* crying) 

Join Us at VoxTek today! A discord server dedicated to Vox and the rest of the Hazbin crew.

The ringing of your doorbell startled you out of the tv trance you had been in for the last few hours. Vox was working late, as was typical, and you deserved to have a couch potato night with popcorn, trash tv and, comfortable pajamas that you may or may not have stolen from your boyfriend’s drawer. 

“Delivery,” A voice called from the intercom at the door. 

As was building policy, the delivery person left the item on the table by the door as soon as you acknowledged them and left. You were not expecting any deliveries at the moment but it wasn’t uncommon in the slightest for you boyfriend to send gifts and trinkets on a whim. 

At times it felt like he was trying to buy your affections. You knew that simply was just how Vox was. It didn’t help that in the past he had had partners who had to be bought to forgive his long work hours and dedication to maintaining his position, both in life and in death. 

You didn’t need gifts and jewelry but that didn’t stop him from getting them for you. 

What you needed was his time and fortunately, that was more often than not what he had in short supply. Vox worked hard and he worked a lot. That left you alone a lot of the time. You loved him though and because of that love, you were committed to making it work. 

Opening the door, you found a vase full of the most beautiful blue and purple flowers you had ever seen. The arrangement contained some you knew from life, some you had only seen in death and some you’d never seen before at all. It was clearly an expensive arrangement, flowers from up top came with price tags few in the Pride ring could afford. 

The simple gesture warmed your heart and made you smile, though it wasn’t needed. No matter how many times you told him though, the gestures would never stop.

You had always loved flowers and while Vox thought it was silly since they would just wilt and die, it wasn’t uncommon for him to indulge you when he’s realized he had been away for longer than you liked. 

You hummed as you carried them inside, setting the vase on your nightstand after clicking the TV off. It was getting late and it was clear Vox wasn’t going to come by again tonight if he sent flowers. May as well get your beauty sleep, right?

You ran your hand along the back of your neck as you brushed your teeth, wiping the sweat away. The weather in Hell was predictably hot and sometimes the AC couldn’t keep up, even in Vox tower. It seemed like tonight was going to be one of those nights. 

After a look to the comfortable embrace of your bed, you turned on the shower. The cooling sheets would help but lowering your body temperature first would help you get off to sleep even more. 

Slipping out of the old fashioned button down shirt and loose shorts, you stepped into the shower. The water was warm but not hot as it ran down your back and soaked through your hair. It felt nice. Really nice. 

If you closed your eyes, it almost felt like Vox’s hands running over your body instead of the water. Your mind ran away with that thought. Soon you were standing in the water, imagining the feeling of his firm hands running along your curves. If you tried hard enough, you could feel the way his screen would warm the back of your neck. 

The shower wasn’t helping cool you don’t in the slightest. 

With a sight, you shut off the water and reached for a towel. There was no one in your apartment to hand it to you, to make some thirsty comment about how good you looked wet. 

You decided you were just lonely. 

That was why you were restless. That was why you were hot all over. It had been two weeks since you had seen Vox and even longer since the two of you had last had sex. It wasn’t for the lack of attraction or desire, you were just at that comfortable stage of a relationship where when you’re tired and busy, quality time was more important. 

You were just tired, lonely and horny. That’s all. 

You wiggled your until your slightly damp arms made their way into into Vox’s button up sleep shirt. Every time you slipped into one of his shirts, it made you smile. It always reminded you of the way he would complain about how he missed the ease of a pull over shirt. All his tshirts had wide necks, comically so to accommodate his head.

It smelled clean, laundry fresh and not like his cologne. The only thing in your apartment that smelled like him was his pillow on your bed. The smell was fading on that too. He had been gone far too long, once again. But that wasn’t new. It was the same old routine, just getting longer each time he was away.

He was gone more often than he was there even though he had claimed to have all but moved in. You told yourself that you were okay with it. He worked a lot, often sleeping in his office for a little bit here or there instead of coming home. 

Self pleasure wasn’t something you had particularly enjoyed but desperate times called for desperate measures. You were restless and heat settled into your core that simply wasn’t disappearing. Falling face first onto your bed, you let out a sigh. 

“Vox,” You whined as you rolled onto your back, “I miss you.” 

Silence answered your confession. He didn’t zap into the space with a loud, “Hey, hey, hey!” He didn’t didn’t even walk through the front door. He didn’t come home. Not that you expected him too.

Alone, again. 

Your hand snaked down your body, slipping into the pair of Vox’s shorts you wore. May as well indulge, you decided. You were so horny and it’s not like Vox was there to take care of you. 

As you caressed your clit, you thought about texting Vox. If you called him, would he come? Or was he in a meeting? With a sigh you decided it didn’t matter. You were so horny but you could take care of yourself. It wasn’t worth interrupting his work. 

Your flinger ran lower, gathering slick from your opening to pull up to your clit. You were far more sensitive than you expected, gasping at each teasing pass of your fingers over the bundle of nerves. Normally you wouldn’t be so wet, so sensitive without something or someone to get you going. 

Your finger slipped inside you easily. You were so wet and though you knew what you liked and how you liked it, you struggled to bring yourself close to your orgasm. Each caress left you gasping for breath and yet all it did was make you want more. 

A second finger slipped inside as you palmed your clit, trying to find that place inside you that Vox was so good at hitting. It was no use. 

Minutes ticked by as you were left panting and writhing under your own touch as nothing seemed to be good enough.

With a groan, you pulled your fingers out from your core, smearing slick up your mound as your hand went to rest on your lower abdomen. You were so horny, it wasn’t fair. You shouldn’t be so horny. 

In the back of your mind, you knew something was wrong.

Reaching into your nightstand you grabbed the small box inside. Within the box was the long smooth vibrator and the perfectly average dildo you’d had for longer than you cared to admit. It didn’t get much use and wasn’t worth upgrading. 

The reality was, you hadn’t had much need for them after you had fell into a relationship with Vox. Before Vox, you simply had your old trusty tools to get yourself off quickly and move on with your nights. 

As the vibrator came to life with the press of a button, you slipped the length easily into your sopping hole. The vibrations had your back arching as they moved through your insides. You moaned as you thrust it in and out slowly, ensuring it was coated with your slick before letting it run up to your clit. 

Again you tried to bring yourself to orgasm and yet all you managed to accomplish was working yourself up even more, making yourself more desperate as you clenched around nothing. You rarely had to go through this much effort to satisfy yourself and yet you still couldn’t get there. 

“Fuck,” you whined, grabbing the dildo and running the soft plastic along your slit to coat it with your slick. 

You were so wet and so sensitive and yet nothing was enough. The dildo filled you, slipping inside with the ease of a good fit. It didn’t stretch you or fill you the way Vox did but it felt good enough to have something to clench around. 

Working it in and out, you moaned. It wasn’t enough. You added the vibrator to your clit, holding it in place as you worked yourself over with the dildo. It still wasn’t enough. 

Rolling onto your stomach, you pulled your knees under your chest as you tried to fuck the dildo into you the way Vox would when he took you from behind. Closing your eyes, you tried to pretend it was Vox fucking you but it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough. 

“Vox,” You whimpered, imagining his hands on your hips. When you couldn’t will the dildo inside you into being Vox’s, you tried to imagine it was his hands holding the vibrator against your sensitive clit. You tried to tell yourself it was his hands working the dildo in and out of your weeping hole. 

It didn’t stretch you the way Vox did. It didn’t fill you the way vox did. It didn’t call your name the way Vox did. 

“Please, Vox.” You whimpered, eyes closed as you tried so hard to bring yourself to the peak that still eluded you. Tears gathered in your eyes as you worked the dildo in and out, your arm sore from the repeated movements. “Miss you. Need you. Want you, Vox.” 

~~~~~<3

Vox walked into the dark apartment and glanced around, the dim red light of the windows filtered in through the privacy screens combined with the light from his screen to allow him to see his way. 

You hadn’t waited up for him but that was alright. It was late and you deserved your rest. He was mildly disappointed though, having wanted to spend some time with you. There wasn’t anyone he could blame for it though. He made his bed, may as well lay in it. 

He had been working too much lately, he knew that. The fact that you were so accommodating, so gracious about his work schedule was something he never wanted to take for granted. He had been, though. He knew that and he knew he needed to make it up to you. 

Dimming his screen, he tossed his jacket on the barstool next to the kitchen island and made his way through the space. It had been your apartment but in his heart, it felt more like home than his own penthouse did. That was why he never pressured you to move up into it with him or to find a better place. 

This was a space where Vox could just be Vox, not the King of the Tower. 

A sound caught his ear, one that he didn’t expect to hear. Turning toward her bedroom, he followed the sounds of soft sighing and squelching. It was the sounds of sex. 

His heart pounded in his chest, blood pumping hard through his audio processers. He had spent too much time away and if what he feared was happening was actually happening, he couldn’t blame you. He wouldn’t blame you. 

Would he kill the man? Without a doubt. Would he be hurt? Sure. But he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to blame you. You wouldn’t have been the first to get tired of waiting for him and go on to find another to fill the place he so often left vacant. 

Opening the door, he wasn’t prepared for what he saw. 

You were on the bed, on your knees and head down. Your ass was up, legs spread as you worked a pale pink dildo into your sopping cunt. Each weak thrust squelched as you gasped softly. A vibrator was held weakly in your hand, pressed against your clit from below. 

Your eyes were hardly more than slits, distracted by what you were doing. His presence wasn’t noticed as you softly called out his name again and again. 

There was no one else. There was no other man. You hadn’t replaced him, at least not with anything with a heartbeat. The attempt to replace him artificially was clearly unsuccessful. 

He knew you were not one that often took pleasure into your own hands. That wasn’t to say he had thought it never happened, just that he knew what was in the boxes in your nightstand just as much as he knew they had a lot of dust over their lids that had begun to build up. 

Never did he expect to walk into the bedroom and see this. The sight made his knees weak as he stumbled to the bed. The emotional whiplash of the last few minutes had his mind fuzzy and heart pounding. 

He wished he could smell the room. Did it smell like sex? Did it smell of your juices? 

You didn’t notice he was in the room even as he fell to his knees at the foot of the bed. Reaching out with trembling hands, he longed for the feeling of your skin under his touch. He was too entranced by the way you worked the dildo in and out of your wet cunt. 

When his hands made contact with the back of your thighs, you jumped. The dildo slipped from your hand and the vibrator fell to the bed as you turned to look over your shoulder at him. Vox couldn’t help but reach out, steading the dildo that was slowly was slipping from your hole. 

“Vox?” you whimpered as he pushed the dildo deeper. 

“What have you been up to?” Vox slipped the dildo out before pushing it back in again, fucking you with it again and again. “You seem needy. Been thinking about me?” 

“Please,” you whined, rocking your hips back into the dildo, “Please Vox. Need you.” 

“Alright,” Vox slipped the dildo from you, watching intently as your hole twitched, seeking the feeling of being filled. Rising from his knees, Vox set himself on the edge of the bed to toe off his shoes. “Let me-”

“Need you,” you whined, crawling across the bed to join him. 

You ran your hands along his back, moaning at the strong muscles under your hands. Pressing your naked front to him, you reached around to caress his chest and abdomen. You ran your hands across him, feeling the way he leaned into your touch. 

“You’re making this hard, dollface.” 

“I’ll make this harder,” you said, reaching down to palm his cock through his pants. 

He was already hard, straining against the fabric prison he was in but you were determined to make him even harder. Breasts pressed tightly against his back, you worked his pants open and pulled him free before he had a chance to protest. 

The slight glow to his erect member was always one of the most beautiful sights. You loved that you could always find your way to him in the dark. His hips twitched, jumping under your hand as you caressed his length. 

“You gonna let me get undressed?” Vox’s voice glitched out for a moment, bright blue light flashing to bathe the room for a short moment. “I’m a bit overdressed still and you’re being distracting.”

“I need you,” if asked, Vox would say you poured around his side as if you had become liquid. 

“Be patient,” Vox ordered as you all but curled around him, mouth drawing close to his glowing cock while he worked his tie free from around his neck. 

You licked at the head of his cock, tongue greedy for the taste of him. His hands trembled as you wasted no time pulling his cock into your mouth, working to take him as deep as you could. 

“Fuck,” Vox’s fingers curled, claws slipping into your hair as he fought the urge to push your head down on his cock. 

Your pace was slow and greedy as Vox leaned back. He could see the curve of your breast , the soft lines of your body and feel your overwhelming warmth as you bobbed up his shaft until he couldn’t stand it anymore. 

His palm pressed against the back of your head, forcing your head down his length until the head of his cock pressed tightly against the back of your throat. You gagged on him, throat spasming around his length as you fought for breath. He let your head up so that you could gasp a breath, sputtering and coughing before he shoved your head back down again. 

As soon as he let you up again, you started crawling around him. Before he had a chance to think more about getting his clothes off, you were in his lap. With knees on either side of his hips, you kissed at where his neck peeked out from his open collar. 

“What are you-?” Vox’s voice was choked off as you sank down on his cock, sighing at the way his larger size stretched you in a way your little dildo didn’t.

You shifted your hips as you sank lower and lower, all but purring into him as your weight settled into his lap. Your hips rocked, rising and falling ever so slightly as you let your body adjust to the significant increase in size from your little dildo, letting him stroke every spot deep inside you. 

“Please,” your lips moved against the soft column of his neck, tongue tracing the line between his dark blue skin and the collar of his shirt. “Need you, Vox. Need you so bad.” 

“You have me, doll.” Vox’s hands grip your hips as his voice distorts, static snow covering his screen for a moment. “Fuck, you have me.” 

You rose up off his cock until only his head was kissing your entrance. After a moment, you sank again, slowly. You bounced as his hips and thighs made contact with you again. Each time you repeated this process, you did it a little faster.

You were fucking yourself with him just as you had fucked yourself with the little pink dildo. Each time his cock filled you, it was so much more satisfying than anything you had been able to achieve yourself. 

Bouncing on him, you panted and gasped. Vox’s screen bathed your face and chest in a soft blue light as he sat, gripping your hips and watching you. His attention was divided, split between watching your cunt swallow his cock, staining his pants with your slick and the way your breasts bounced with every thrust. 

His audio input was flooded with the sound of your sopping core squelching around his cock and your panting breath, cries of his name on your tongue. He struggled to focus on you as the fans in the back of his screen kicked on. 

“Hold on,” his voice was garbled and his screen flashed bars and blue, “Babydoll-” 

Vox’s screen went blue, too bright as was his default setting. The message “Error 34.420 virus found: Came too fast, damn Babygirl” was written in bright white on the screen as his torso fell back, hitting the bed with a soft thud. 

You kept riding, working yourself on him as his cock twitched inside you, painting your walls with the seed that was so unique to him. In the dim light of your bedroom, if someone had been looking in on their private moment, they would see the slight glow from his cum around your opening, coating his shaft as you lifted yourself off of him and smearing it onto his pants as you let yourself slip back over his length. 

“Error 404 message not found cowgirl position too good,” Displayed on the screen. 

Hiding your face from the bright light in his shoulder, you whined as you continued to ride him. Vox was nothing if not able to please, remaining hard inside you even as his systems came back online. 

It wasn’t enough, nothing felt like it was enough. 

Grinding against him, you fucked yourself with him as his systems processed. Tears pricked at your eyes and as you struggled to find the right way to stimulate yourself on his cock to make the fire burning in you lessen and bring the orgasm you so badly wanted to surface. 

Something was wrong with you and you knew you needed Vox to fix it. He was the only man in all of Hell that could fix it. 

His face went dark for a moment before coming to life again with a bright spark that grew and extended across the screen. It pulsed with his heartbeat for a moment before fading to reveal his bright eyes blinking to life with a deep moan. 

His fingers twitched against your hips as he finished booting up and returning to life. Strong hands and hard claws gripped you, running up and down your back as you fucked yourself onto him. 

“Doll,” His voice was thick as his nails lightly scratched down your back. “You good?”

“I need-” 

“What do you need, Baby?” As more systems came online again, he began trusting up into your lazily. “Tell me what I can do for you?”

“I want to come.” You whimpered as his arms tightened around you. “I get so close but I can’t. Please. Please make me come.” 

He leaned up, shifting your weight back into his lap as he pulled your face from his shoulder with a fist in your hair. You bumped your head on the corner of his screen but you hardly noticed the pain. It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last time you too a blow from his sharp edges. 

Vox kissed you deeply, static lips parting yours as he drank up your moans. He maneuvered you as if you weighed nothing, lifting you and placing your back on the bed. Your hand traveled down your body, fingers caressing your clit as you watched him lean back to admire the view. Arching, you writhed under his eyes, gasping as you fingered your sloppy hole, not giving a thought to the slightly glowing cum spreading on your fingers.

“Please, Vox. It’s so much- so much better with you inside me. It hurts less. Please, I need you back inside. Vox.” 

Clumsily, he kicked out of his pants. He shrugged his shirt off next as he covered your body with his. He wrapped your legs around his waist, mouth leaving electric kisses along your breasts as he lined himself up again.

“I’m right here, Doll. I’ve got you.”

He slipped in easily, spreading your walls around him. He groaned as he sank until his balls were flush with you. Your arms wrapped around him, clinging to him. Nails dug into his thick blue skin. 

He wasted no time, beginning to thrust into you immediately, slowly at first but becoming quicker as you urged him on. You begged, pleaded as his pubic bone brushed against your clit with each thrust. 

Vox grabbed your hip with a hand, grip so strong his claws indented your skin. You only whined, ignoring the very real risk that his sharp claws would puncture your skin, placing all your trust in him to not hurt you. 

He hiked your hips up, snaking his hand under your lower back to do so, changing the angle of your body. This new angle forced the head of his cock to push and drag harshly against the front of your walls, bulging slightly against your abdomen. Harshly, be bullied the spot inside you that he knew would reliably have you seeing stars. 

He was not disappointed in the slightest with your reaction. Your mewls and gasps only encouraged him to continue, hitting that spot faster, harder. 

Leaning back, he pulled your hips up higher. You were spread out on the bed, hands gripping his strong forearms at times only to flop down to the bed when he would hit your core just right. 

“Vox,” his name was a prayer you couldn’t stop saying, “Please. So good, you make me feel so good. Want to cum so bad. Want to- need to.” 

“I’ve got you.” 

Vox’s claws dug into your skin, holding your hips tightly, allowing him to hold your hips and core suspended in the air as he rose on his knees, thrusting into you harshly. Your upper back and shoulders rested comfortably on the bed as you looked up at him through lust glazed eyes. 

Parted lips gasped his name as he gave you what you wanted. Your breasts shifted with every violent thrust into you. Your toes curled and fingers twisted into the blankets. The dim blue light of his screen reflected off your skin, highlighting every curve, including the ever so slight bulge as his cock continued to push out against you with each thrust. 

Vox’s hands were one of your favorite features. They were strong and powerful, yet capable of such sweet and gentle touches. There was another thing they were capable of. His claw rubbed against your clit, your lower back supported by his hand splayed under you. 

“Want to feel you cum, Babydoll.” Vox panted, fans whirling as he maintained his body temperature. 

Warmth spread over his fingertip before it shifted, static tingling over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Every thrust into you was paired with a rise in the static tingling against your clit. 

“Please,” tears rand own the sides of your face as you felt the way your slick dripped down your body, running up your back. Never had you been so wet. Never had you been so needy. Never had Vox gone more than one round with you but if you could think straight, you’d be thankful to know he could.

“Going to make you come undone,” Vox promised, smile and eyes both wide as he took in the fucked out state you were in. He didn’t know what had you so worked up or why, but he knew it was just for him. You were just for him. 

“Going to make you see stars. Going to make you- fffuck.” He groaned as your walls began to flutter and tighten around him. You were so close now. “Fuck baby, you feel so good. Fucking made for me. So needy, so fucking hot just for me. Just for me.”

You grabbed at your breast with a hand, pinching your nipple as he pulled your hips higher. He loomed over you, filthy words falling from his lips even as he looked down at you with love clear in his eyes. 

Reaching out for him, you ran your other hand along his chest as he folded closer to you. His heart thrummed under your fingers until your arm was too weak to support itself. Your hand flopped to the mattress above your head, spreading yourself across the bed just a little more as Vox watched you say his name as if it was the most important thing in the world. 

“Cum for me,” he begged. “Come on Babygirl. Want to feel you cum on my cock. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking cum like only I can make you.”

The static spread from your clit as he spike, dancing over your body in powerful little blue arcs of power, leaving the most pleasant zaps in their path. Each little zap stole your breath. Soon they concentrated on every place Vox knew you loved most. 

They tingled and zapped your nipples. Electric power danced over your throat, making muscles twitch as you failed to control your breathing. 

So close now.

The electricity ran over her legs and across her abdomen, tightening every muscle against her control. Blue sparks lit up the space between your bodies in little blue flashes as it played over your clit, Vox’s hand no longer needing to make contact with it to keep it stimulated. 

“Fffffuck,” His screen was glitching now, bars shooting across the surface and distorting his face as you clenched tightly down on his cock. 

Your back arched and twitched, fingers gripping whatever they could reach as your body convulsed around him. Each contraction of your cunt had him moaning, voice glitching as much as his screen as he fought to stay present and ride out your much sought after orgasm.

You screamed his name as the twisting pressure crested and white hot pleasure burned every nerve ending in your body as it snapped. Vox fell forward, holding your hips tightly as he fucked you through it. 

“So good,” He praised in that garbled voice that told you how close he really was again, “Such a good fucking doll. Fucking came so hard for me. Feel so good. Squeezing me so good. So good.”

He fell to his side, pulling you onto your side as your body continued to flinch and clench with every ounce of stimulation he gave you. His screen was glitching more as your begging shifted into words of praise and thanks, basking in the sweet relief and aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Babygirl,” Vox said, “Doll, I’m- I’m going to- going to cum agai-” 

His screen went blue as you felt his cock twitch with the force of his second orgasm. More cum painted your insides as fans ran at high speeds. Fingers gripped you, holding you close enough to feel his thundering heart under his dark skin while his hips rocked against you. 

“Error Code 34 Message not found. Please reboot.” Displayed on his too bright screen when you glanced up at your lover as he stilled, finally feeling spent and at peace. “Orgasm over ride. System Vox.exe has stopped working due to overuse. Vox.exe Unresponsive. Please reboot.” 

You fell asleep to the soft sounds of your boyfriend, the powerful tech overlord rebooting slowly with you tucked into his arms and under the hard edge of his screen.

~~~~~<3

Vox blinked the sleep from his eyes as he leaned over the coffee machine, willing the pot to fill faster. He was tired, his muscles were sore and he didn’t get nearly enough sleep but it was worth it. 

Whatever the hell had gotten you in that mood last night, he needed to figure it out and repeat it. He had woken after just four hours of sleep and sacrificed his early morning work in favor of scrolling through your history. 

Was it invasive? Probably. He wasn’t known for respecting privacy. It couldn’t have been something he did, he hadn’t been around. While he clutched the first cup of coffee from the second pot, he again went over what you’d been watching and found nothing that would have made you so desperate for him. 

He found nothing in your message history either, with him or anyone else. There was nothing in your reading history, your internet tabs. Nothing. 

There was equally no trace of whoever had sent you the flowers he was currently fondling. He found no record of you purchasing the flowers for yourself so someone had to have sent them. 

He was just getting ready to dig into finding out who when the buzzer on the door rang. 

Opening the door, he almost dropped his mug at who was on the other side of the door. “Val?” 

“Vox?” 

“What are you doing here?” They asked in unison, both demons not really used to interacting with the other in the early morning hours. Wide eyes blinked nakedly, both sets exhausted. 

Vox hadn’t seen Valentino awake before noon unless he just hadn’t gone to sleep yet and even that was a rarity after five.

Valentino hadn’t expected to find Vox casually dressed on one of the lower, cheaper floors of the tower. 

Vox crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe and drinking casually from the black mug in his hand. He crossed his ankles as he narrowed his eyes, “It’s my girlfriend’s unit. Why are you here?”

Val’s big bug eyes blinked at Vox, processing the information slowly. “My… My flowers were delivered to the wrong floor.” 

Vox relaxed instantly, easy smile returning to his face as he disappeared inside. He reappeared with the flowers in hand. “I wondered where they came from.” 

“Right,” Valentino looked from the flowers Vox deposited in one of his sets of hands and back to his partner. “And you’re… feeling okay?” 

“Sore,” Vox laughed, “Been a long night if you know what I mean.”

“Right.” Valentino blinked again, “Right.” 

“Been busy,” Vox nodded, “She was feeling a bit extra needy.” 

“I’m sure she was.” Valentino said, looking down at the flowers again. “Was there a cover for the blooms?” 

“Not that I saw,” Vox shrugged. 

“Vox?” You called from in the room, his too big button down draped over your frame as you made your way over to him, sleepily wrapping your arms around his chest as you pressed your front against his back. “Is everything alright?” 

“Just some business,” He answered before looking back at Valentino. “This stays under wraps.”

“Right,” Valentino said again as Vox shut he door in his face, leaving Valentino alone to figure out how to get through the tower and back to his studio with uncovered sex flowers. He had to find a way without having half the employees dropping their pants and starting an orgy before the cafeteria had even ended breakfast service. 

Valentino looked down at the flowers, enjoying the way their pollen made his spine tingle. His power mingled with them to keep him under his own control but he hadn’t expected to find Vox unaffected but it sounded like his girl was. 

For a moment, Valentino lingered at the door, considering telling Vox before changing his mind. It wasn’t his business. 

[aiysan2]

'Tell me something Dirty' Shoji x reader

1.5k

Get the full fic on wattpad

Peer-pressure, drugs, needles, blowjob if there is anything i missed let me know

He didn't know you knew so many people, they swarmed the house like flies. He stayed in a corner Tokoyami had found Tsuyu and they were probably having sex in one of the many rooms that you had.

He wanted to be around you, the only other person whom he felt closest to, but had lost you when the 40th person had walked through the door. Now he was sat outside your locked room, refusing alcohol from his classmates.

" Just try some Shoji it'll help you cool off." Todoroki offered waving a bottle of vodka in his face while leaning on a drunk Midoriya, and super sober Iida.

"I really am ok." He insisted for what felt like the umpteenth time of the night.

"It's good to see someone keep their principles in order." Iida congratulated despite his very out of character sexy policeman costume.

"Thank you Iida," Shoji grumbled standing from his spot and putting one of his tentacles next to Iida's ear so he could hear him better. " Have you seen y/n anywhere?"

"Dancing in the basement probably."

Why would anyone dance in a basement?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That's why.

Shoji looked around the large room that spanned the whole plan of the house, strobe lights and loud electronic music playing by Hanta Sero the self appointed DJ. As he walked in a middle aged women who he assumes was one of your maids used her hands, that stretched out, (her quirk probably) to put a glow stick necklace on his neck.

He wondered how he would be able to find you in the large body of gyrating teens especially in the large dark room lit up by strobe lights and glowsticks.

It seemed he had to find you quickly, just to let you know he was going.

He remembered your costume, the well fitted black lingerie set that you convinced yourself was a costume with the long black cape. Using his quirk he created a web of eyes searching the crowd for you. It didn't take long, you had removed your cloak dancing with the handsome Yuga Aoyoma.

He wafted through the crowd going to the place that you were stood earlier drums splitting as the bass rattled the floor and vibrated his body.

"Y/n." He called, still not getting your attention as you continued dancing on Aoyoma.

"Y/n!" He tapped your shoulder, still not getting your attention as you thought it was someone bumping into you.

"Y/n!" He screamed, pulling both your shoulders and turning you to him.

You had a look of shock, then smiled at him a large dopey smile.

"Shoji what's up!" You yelled over the music.

"I'm going home now." He stated his 'mouth' near your ear so you could hear him clearly.

You shook your head, frowning at him as if he had just offended you.

"You cant do that Sho, please stay." You begged, your eyes pleading pouring your lip in a weird attempt to look cute.

"I'm not really enjoying myself." He pressed, feeling someone's Edwards scissorshands costume poke his back. "It's just not my scene."

" But you haven't seen the cinema, or the pool or my cosy little VIP room."

You pressed yourself closer to him tracing hearts on his chest staring at his face as your hand slowly moved towards his dick, feeling the way he twitched when you pressed into it.

'pervert' you thought, rubbing him through his trousers, watching the way his eyes thinned as he glared at you.

"Do you want me to show you my VIP room sir? " Your voice sultry hoping he got your gist even if he couldn't hear you properly. " I promise I'll make it worth your while."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were back in your own room, kneeling against a wall, Shoji stood tall in front of you as you had his cock in your hand.

Maybe it was the drugs, because otherwise you wouldn't have talked yourself into the impossible mission of giving him head. It just felt right, he was always, well those three times, touching you, and you had rarely touched him.

He held his shirt up, brows furrowed, one hand was resting on the wall behind you, the other stroking your head as if he knew the calculations you were trying to do to fit him in your mouth.

You were infact trying to figure out if you could transform to a snake halfway without your dagger sharp teeth, so you could unhinge your jaw no problem.

You remembered with Bakugou, he could never be to rough when it came to you giving him head, otherwise your teeth would enlongate and you could scratch up his dick. Now you were trying to figure out what to do if your teeth did scratch him.

He was being so gentle with you, slowly rutting his cock in your hand and reassuring you.

"Sho what if it can't go in my mouth?"

"Why do you want to stop?* He asked moving back so his dick would slip out of your hand.

"Wait no," your hand reaching out towards him, " I wanna do it I'm just nervous." You admitted.

He walked over to you leaning over so his face was by yours "Don't worry I've got you."

"Just don't laugh," you mumbled. You leaned forward sticking your tongue out to catch his tip. Your tongue swirled around him, licking the precum pearling at the end.

Your hands gripped his thighs keeping yourself steady, opening your mouth and welcoming him in, it was hard you could definitely admit that, looking at him to see if he was enjoying himself.

You couldn't tell, his chest was rising and falling but his face was blank, his eyes not wide or narrow just staring at you intensely.

Only his tip had entered your mouth, you felt scared to allow anything else in as his size might suffocate you or the pressure might be to much. He was so heavy.

You tried again letting more of him in, your eyes watering, your jaw aching as you allowed him in, his mass hitting the back of your throat making you retract immediately.

"I-im sorry it's just very thick." You apologised, right hand stroking him to make up for the loss of contact.

"It's ok, try again." He encouraged wanting your mouth wrapped around him choking on him as he bullied it into your mouth. Of course he would never do that, not when you were having so many doubts of choking on him.

You stuck out your tongue welcoming him back in again opening your mouth as wide as possible while hollowing your cheeks. He hit the back of your throat again, but this time you didn't give up instead sucking him off, just like you had promised. The rest of him stayed in your hand jerking him off in hopes to satiate the lack of wetness around it.

You watched him watch you hoping to get more of a reaction than just his deep breaths and panting, you wanted to see it in his eyes, a carnal lust letting you know that you were doing a good job.

You maned up staring at his pelvic and prepared yourself, slipping him out of your mouth, before unhinging your jaw and taking his entirety down your throat.

"Y/n, fuck." He groaned him grabbing some of your hair to push you on him at his pace. He rutted into your aperture, your nose brushing the trimmed bed of pubes on his pelvis and his heavy balls slapping your chin.

Tears balled down your face as you fought the urge to gag around him, he was vocal now, his groans fighting the sounds of the music. His pupils had dilated with voracious fervor, he couldn't leave your gaze, he loved looking at your mouth so full of his cock, tearing up because of the size.

"You're so fucking good for me y/n."

His hips very keen, moving faster chasing the addictive stimulation of an orgasm. His head lulled back forcing himself into your throat before he twitched, a heat spreading through his body stilling him until it reaches his cock, dumbing out thick ropes of his arousal into your mouth.

He pulled out rubbing himself as he finished on your face, you clearing your throat as you let the air fill your lungs. You caught some of his excretion on your tongue, although most of it got on your face.

Shoji slouched over you, resting his body on the wall to catch his breath. You wiped your face with your hand laughing slightly at the situation.

"What?" He asked wondering why you were giggling.

"You came so much." You stated as if it was so funny.

He didn't get it.

He rolled his eyes.

"I don't get it." He shrugged rolling to the side and sitting next to you on the wall. He brought one of his hands up to your face to help you wipe it better.

"I'll help you get it." You told him.

You stood up going to the table were the syringe of hours before had laid untouched waiting for someone to come and collect it.

You sat down in front of him between his outstretched legs holding your hand out for his arm.

"I said I don't want to do it." He complained referring to your earlier conversation.

"Mate I just gave you head, the least you can do is have a little something." You said. He gave you his arm at that, " and it's totally medicinal and stuff, doctors use it to cure depression."

It wouldn't be bad for him to let loose a while, especially if he had to endure your overwhelming party.

[wren-beowulf]

[DISCONNECTED] Arc

Into The Wren-verse

As Above, So Below: 0 1 2 3 4

______________________________________

The collected Files: Lurcher Jackdaw

Associated Files: Other Accounts :3

File 84 - Code ###### [OPEN]

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■■□□□ :/

■■■□□ : |

■■■■□ :\

■■■■■ :)

Download Complete. Click to Open

PROFILE

File Name: Lurcher. Jackdaw

Birth Name: Wren Alexander Beowulf.

Location: Gotham.

Years Active: 8 I'm new in town

Gotham Location: Crime Alley. Has many outposts, not all have been identified. You'll never find them lmao

Species: Halfa, guess 'cause I'm halfalive? Danny says I ain't human no more... stupid Lazarus pit...

CRIMES [All Have Multiple Accounts]

Shoplifting

Pickpocketing

Larceny

Robbery

Armed Robbery

Burglary

Auto Theft

Grand Theft

Petty Theft

Government Theft

Trespassing

Destruction of Property

Destruction of Private Property

Destruction of Government Property

Cybercrimes

Cyperespionage

Piracy

Inciting Malware Attacks

Unlawful Possession of Firearms

Unlawful Trafficking of Firearms

Assault with a Deadly Weapon

Terrorism

Homicide

First Degree Murder

Second Degree Murder

Squatting

Death Threats

Stalking

Organized Crime

I'm a good boy who's never committed a crime ever in my life~

IDENTIFIABLE APPEARENCE (Costime):

- Modified Motorcycle Helmet. Sleek Back, light blue ring light on center. Light occasionally changes shape and colour. Suspected modification:

Thermal Vision

Night Vision

Info Scanning

Voice Changing

Image and Video Projection

- Kevlar Suit [Stolen] permanently borrowed Colours primarily black with some light blue.

- Straps on thighs, waist, chest, and back. Straps hold many weapons and gadgets, caution is advised.

- Shortened black Leather Jacket. Sleeves typically pulled up.

- Metal Plated Tech Armour of Unknown Origin. Located on Arms/Hands and Legs/Feet. Primary colours light silver with some light blue. Suspected abilities of Unknown Armour:

Extreme Durability and Impact Absorption.

Enhance and aid physical abilities

[Hands] Hacking and Information Downloading via touch.

[Hands] Capable of producing whips from wrists. Whips do not seem to be fully physical, formed from some kind of unknown energy.

[Feet] Anchoring feature to surfaces via clamps.

[Feet] Magnetically walking up metal surfaces.

IDENTIFIABLE APPEARENCE (Physical):

Subject approximately 5'7 in height, stronger build. Hair longer, black in colour, typically seen done up and now with an undercut too, it looks good right?. Eyes pale blue, darker outer circle (has been compared to a husky) They also glow now, so that's somethin' . Skin is fair with many moles, beauty mark under left side of lip.

Subject has many scars from many different things, too many to catalog. Though notably a rather large scar going from his left thigh, inner hip, around the length of his back, and around to his right shoulder. Newer scars include thin lines across his left cheek, a bullet scar on his ribs, and a long slash across his collar bone. And now I got one where some FUCKER cut off my arm and fingers. Now my arm looks a lil different too... all modified 'n kinda blue 'n stuff... ain't all that different from my tattoo tbh but with lighter colours. And also my blood glows and is blue. I'm made of glowstick juice hehehe.

Subject dresses in a way that is described as "Alternative", typical work attire consists of a black tank top and tan jumpsuit around waist. Yeah but I also changed now, got those tight shirts and pants too. I know you're checkin' out my ass, ya peepers. And now I started wearin' shades too 't hide those glowin' eyes from ya.

Subject has many piercings, including three in each ear, and snake bites on his lips. Subject used to have piercings in left eyebrow and nose, but no longer. Also nipple piercin's can't forget those~ Oh! And a got a tattoo now! Full sleeve on my right arm~ Looks cool right?

Has been called "Hot" and "Handsome" and "Attractive" on multiple occasions. Because I'm an A grade hottie~ I keep makin' people turn gay!

NOTABLE EQUIPMENT:

Subject Lurcher JACKDAW has many staple pieces of equipment that allow for further identification. However, the origin of these pieces of equipment is unknown, and any attempts to identify them have come back negative. They seem to all run of some kind of foreign power source made of an unknown material. They all act in a strangely organic way, reacting to Subject Lurcher's JACKDAW subconscious rather than to automated commands. Subject Lurcher JACKDAW seems to refer to this equipment as "Magi-tech" implying them to be mystical in Nature.

Yeaaahhh so turn out that Magi-Tech was actually tech made by this secret underground group who were makin' weapons powered by Lazarus water that I accidentally purified after I stole it. They were... not very happy 'bout that.

Known "Magi-tech" Equipment includes:

- "Argo", a rather large hoverboard with extended capabilities. Coloured primarily black with some silver and light blue. Known Extended Capabilities Include:

Flight

High Durability

Shifting parts to extend size as a shield

Shifting parts to form a dome type shield

Seems to be highly connected to other "Magi-tech" Equipment, capable of "absorbing" such other equipment into itself as a form of transport.

- Railgun, seems to be used primarily for long distance. Primarily Black with light blue.

Gun fires off energy rather than bullets. This energy can change in power to either stun or kill.

- Twin Pistols. Most commonly used by subject Lurcher JACKDAW. Primarily black with Light Blue.

Pistols have the unique ability to teleport into subject Lurcher's JACKDAW hands. This seems to only work with the Subject.

- Glaive. Least commonly used, only seen when firearms or other common weapons and gadgets are unavailable. Yet shows a high proficiency with it. Primarily black and silver with some light blue.

Blade of Glaive is able to extend. The length of extension is currently unknown.

Leg/Feet and Arm/Hand Armour. [See Identifiable Appearance for more info]

METAGENE ABILITIES:

Subject Lurcher JACKDAW is a metahuman with the ability of duplication. Self-named ability "Divide and Conquer".

This duplication manifests as an exact replica indistinguishable from its original, working on both organic and inorganic materials.

Subject is able to duplicate an object many times, the limit--If it exists--is currently unknown.

Subject is able to duplicate aspects of himself such as eyes, teeth, limbs, organs, or even create a double of himself in its entirety. Subject also seems to be able to control this self-duplication to the cellular level, creating a somewhat excelarated healing effect. It is unknown if he can do this on other people as well.

Subject can retrieve the memories of their doubles after they either dissappear or die. This includes the memory of the death itself. When making doubles of other people, the same rule seems to apply but to the doubled person rather than the subject.

Subject seems to know when a duplicate is being touched or not, implying some sort of connection between the subject and the duplicate. Subject does not describe this feeling as a physical one, but rather a mental one.

IMPORTANT NOTES:

- Subject has many ties with various organized crime groups, termination or long term capture of the subject may have lasting effects. That's what I'm countin' on~

- Subject is very highly intelligent with unknown skills. Proceed with caution.

- Subject often has equipment of those he works with, this includes things like the Royal Flush's playing cards and Fear Gas. Proceed with caution.

- Subject uses Meta abilities to never run out of bullets. Proceed with caution.

THREAT COOL LEVEL: High

THREAT POTENTIAL: Unknown

CUTENESS LEVEL: Adorbs

[c1qfxugcgy0]

Quirks and features of the James Webb Space Telescope

The James Webb Space Telescope (JWST) is a ten billion dollar space telescope that weighs 14,000 pounds, is the size of a bus, and took decades to construct. It's been in the news recently, you might have heard about it.

The development, launch and deployment of the JWST were fraught with unexpected setbacks, terror and frights, 344 "single-point failures", any one of which that, if they failed during deployment, could doom the entire spacecraft to uselessness, since it orbits far out beyond where any current manned spacecraft could even attempt a repair job.

The fact that it came online as smoothly as it did was something of a surprise to the people in charge. Given the miracle of it making it to space at all, the press coverage of JWST has focused on the positives. But a stroll through the JWST user documentation by a curious reader reveals much that is interesting, or interestingly broken. Such as..

Fun and games with infrared

Specifically, the JWST is an infrared telescope, designed to collect light that's redder than red. The two dedicated imaging instruments are the Near Infrared Camera (NIRCam) collecting light from 0.6 micrometers to 5.0 micrometers and the Mid-Infrared Instrument (MIRI) collecting light from 5.6 micrometers to 25.5 micrometers. (Though with significant light collected past 25.5 um by filter F2550W)

The wonderful thing about infrared astronomy is that everything emits blackbody radiation, and the hotter it is the more infrared it emits. The unfortunate thing about infrared astronomy is that everything emits blackbody radiation, including your telescope, and self-emission from your telescope can swamp the faint signal from astronomical sources. (Like building a camera out of glowsticks.)

The equilibrium temperature for an object in Earth orbit is about 300 Kelvin. (26C) Everything on the other side of the sunshield passively cools down to 40K, and MIRI is actively cooled by the cryocooler down to a chilly 6K (-267C, -449F) This extends MIRI's seeing range deeper into infrared.

But the mirror is still warm! At the far end, MIRI is significantly compromised by thermal self-emission: (Note log scale!)

This is more graphically illustrated by one of the MIRI commissioning images:

Check out that background glare!

(This is somewhat unfair: the calibration target here is a star, which emits comparatively little light in far-infrared. MIRI is really meant for nebulae and extra-galactic high-redshift objects)

("Why not actively cool the mirror?" Mechanical cryocoolers operate on the very limit of what heat engines are capable of. The MIRI cryocooler draws a fat 180 watts to move 78 milliwatts of heat. Previous infrared telescopes used a fixed amount of expendable coolant (liquid helium or solid hydrogen) to cool the entire instrument package... at the cost of a much smaller primary mirror and a telescope that flat out just stopped working when it ran out of coolant.)

There's something else you might notice about the above series of photographs...

Thanks a lot, Lord Rayleigh

John William Strutt, 3rd Baron Rayleigh was a typical early physicist in that he has a great big pile of "discoveries" by virtue of being the first person to 1) notice something and 2) actually write it down. One of them is the fundamental theorem for the angular resolution of an optical system, the Rayleigh criterion. It is dead simple:

Resolution is roughly equal to 1.22 times the wavelength of the light you're looking at, divided by the diameter of the aperture. Bigger the opening at the front of light bucket, the higher the resolution. Smaller the wavelength of light, the higher the resolution.

(Fun fact: the former Arecibo radio observatory, once the largest single telescope in the world with a 305 meter wide dish, had about the same angular resolution in radio waves as the human eye does in visible light.)

You can imagine the effect this has on an infrared telescope. And sure enough, in the user documentation for the two imaging sensors, it states a pixel scale of 0.031 arcseconds for 0.6 to 2.3 micrometers light wavelength, 0.063 arcsec/px for 2.4-5.0 µm, and a squishy 0.11 arcsec/px for 5.6-25.5 µm.

But this is just how many pixels are on the detector. The resolution gets much worse at long wavelengths, as you can see in the commissioning image, where the extra pixels oversample a progressively vaguer blob. The Rayleigh criterion holds that the 6.5 meter wide JWST primary mirror should manage 0.206 arcsec at 5.32 µm, falling to 0.42 arcsec at 10.85 µm, 0.747 arcsec at 19.29 µm, and an unfortunate 1.014 arcsec at 26.2 µm. One wonders why the designers went to heroic lengths to cool MIRI down to 7 kelvin, instead of using that cryocooler mass and power budget for more detector surface area.

Knowing this, you can spot how the JWST's press team works around the limitations of the telescope. Like how a "look at how good our infrared telescope" commissioning photo happens to use the 7.7 µm mode:

Or how if you browse the photos on the webbtelescope.org site, you will see lots of NIRcam output in the "oooh, ah, new desktop background" category, but not so much MIRI.

(Another amusing detail of MIRI is that bright objects leave afterimages ("latents") on the sensor, so once a week they warm the sensor up to a tropical 20 kelvin before cooling it down again, a "MIRI anneal". You can see when anneals are performed, as well as what the telescope is looking at right now, by viewing the public schedule.)

But this is Webb operating right up to its full specifications. How about something that's actually broken?

NIRSpec my beloved

The Near-Infrared Spectrograph (NIRSpec) instrument takes incoming light and runs it through a diffraction grating to produce a spectrum. When scientists say that the Sun is 0.77% oxygen, 0.29% carbon, etc, it's not because someone flew a spacecraft over to it and collected a bucket of solar plasma, it's because you can look at the absorption lines in the spectra to figure out its composition.

Spectrometry is also used to measure redshift, a close proxy to distance. When a press release says that a galaxy is "ten million lightyears away", it's not because NASA has a really long tape measure they haven't told anyone about, it's because a spectrometer measured how much cosmological redshift has moved a spectrum line. Naturally, it's not quite as easy as pointing a sensor at a object and getting back a single, unambiguous result. Distant objects are also dim objects, so the spectra will be noisy and chewed up by dust and other contamination its endured in the millions of years its traveled to arrive at our telescopes. Bleeding edge astronomy is thus the practice of designing statistical models to fit to noisy, fragmented data, and then arguing with other astronomers about r^2.

In any event, it's a handy thing to have on a telescope. Naturally, JWST has more than one. In fact every instrument has a spectroscopy mode. Besides the dedicated NIRISS and NIRSpec instruments, both NIRcam and MIRI include diffraction gratings in their filter wheels that smear out incoming light, like looking through a prism:

Pointing the JWST at an object is relatively expensive, since it requires rotating ("slewing") the entire darn spacecraft, and an amusingly complex alignment procedure with the fine guidance sensor and fine steering mirror. Considering how long it would take to shoot a hundred spectra with a conventional fixed slit rigidly mounted to the telescope frame, you can see the appeal of gathering a hundred spectra in a single exposure with "slitless" spectroscopy.

(Longtime space telescope nerds might hear the word "slewing" and involuntarily twitch, recalling that the reaction wheels and gyroscopes were a problem point on the Hubble, requiring several servicing missions, and also significantly affecting operations on the Kepler space telescope. Fortunately, JWST switched to a gyroscope type that has no moving parts, and used some mass budget to install six reaction wheels, up from Hubble's four, giving it three spares.)

You can also see the big downside in the image above, which is there's a hard tradeoff between how long a spectrum can be (and thus its resolution!) before it'll overlap its neighbors and be useless. Most of the slitless modes therefore have two gratings at two different angles, (GRISMR and GRISMC above) but wouldn't it great if you could just block out all that other light?

Thus, the Micro Shutter Array, as seen above. The best of both worlds! Capture many spectra at the same time, while blocking off light you don't want from contaminating the field, using a configurable array of nearly a quarter million microscopic, individually actuated moving shutters.

Lots and lots and lots of tiny little moving parts, installed in the guts of a spacecraft that's orbiting out past the Moon, impossible to access or replace.

Yeah, a bunch of them broke:

When it was handed over to NASA for installation into Webb in 2007, the MSA already had 150 shutters that no longer responded to opening commands in just one of the four submodules.

By the time JWST emerged from commissioning and was declared fully operational in 2022, 15,893 shutters, 7% of the total, had "failed closed." Hilariously, 904 of those failed during post-launch testing, and the authors of that paper note that, on average, if you tell 100 shutters to close, 4 of them will jam shut and no longer work.

This is unfortunate, but fairly easy to work around. What's worse are the shutters that are stuck open:

These permanently open shutters then compromise big chunks of the sensor. Commissioning testing jammed two more of them open, taking the total up to 22. You can imagine that if a few dozen more of these fail-open during routine operation then the entire microshutter array observation mode won't be much more useful than regular slitless spectrography.

And this, right here, sums up the essentially "interim" nature of JWST. After all, it was only supposed to cost $500 million and take a mere nine years from design to launch. All becomes clear in that light. Why give it a shutter array that falls apart in use? Why have the mirror exposed to space, where it gets hit with micrometeoroids? Why only design it to carry ten years worth of fuel? Because it was supposed to be half the price of Hubble!

The 90s was the era of "faster, better, cheaper". JWST was going to be an incremental improvement on a long series of previous infrared telescopes, and a stepping stone to the next one. It wasn't supposed to be an eternal monument to Science, and a financial black hole consuming NASA's entire budget.

So what went wrong?

We shouldn't have built one JWST.

Those 344 single points of failure. Any single one of them can end the mission. There's just one telescope, no backups, no trying again. Bureaucrats are harshly punished for failure, lightly rewarded for success. It's always easier to wait, do more tests, delay the schedule a bit more at a hint of trouble. Engineers can get you to 90% reliable no problem, but getting to 99% reliable takes another decade and nine billion more dollars.

Our techne is just bad at producing flawless machines first try. For the price of one reliable JWST we could have put twenty into orbit... but the first five would have been embarrassing failures. Spars sticking in place, sunshields jamming, thrusters misfiring. To save the shame of $0.5 billion wasted, NASA happily spent $9.5 billion. Why not? Because money spent is invisible, but failure is painfully apparent.

A critical third party can draw unflattering parallels. The crowning achievement of NASA, the Moon Landing... required eleven Apollo launches and twenty Surveyor launches before a single man set foot on lunar regolith! Quite a few of those spacecraft pancaked into the Moon and exploded on the launchpad before we figured out this "space" thing. Three men died! But NASA was on a hard deadline, with a fixed budget, and the only way to get a home run is to take a lot of swings at the ball.

Another comparison is the Space Launch System, NASA's attempt to make the Saturn V again. So far $27 billion has been lit on fire to put exactly one test load into orbit, with the primary contractor now desperate to get out of its contact. Slow, careful, incremental development has completely failed to produce a working launch system.

Meanwhile, SpaceX produced a series of public, embarrassing failures... resulting in the world's only reusable launch system, and as a result has put far more mass into orbit than any country in the world.

The only way to develop a flight system is flight tests.

Space telescope deploy mechanisms meant to work in zero gravity can't be tested on the ground.

They can only be tested in space.

NASA administrators who didn't work during Apollo are too stupid to understand this. Fire them all!

These geriatrics have happily sacrificed science in order to play it safe and secure their own easy retirement. Do we want 15 risky JWST telescopes by 2010, or do we want one reliable one by 2022? The answer is obvious!

For the money we wasted making Webb more reliable, we could have launched a space telescope far outside the disk of dust in the inner solar system, allowing it to see deeper into space than Webb ever could. ESA put an astrometry space telescope just outside Earth orbit, measuring angles between stellar objects, which is the only way to directly measure the distance to the stars. Great first step. The obvious next step is to send more of these telescopes out past Neptune's orbit, to capture better observations with a vastly larger baseline, something that can never be done by an Earthly observatory. Are there any plans to do this? No!

Space exploration is paralyzed by boomers, mired in the mental tarpit of the 1970s, where each gram to orbit is terribly expensive and must be counted on punched cards and summed with slide rules. Meanwhile, SpaceX Starship is on its way to orbit, and each one can carry sixteen JWSTs with room to spare!

The old paradigm is done. Telescopes don't need folding mirrors and exotic materials, they need to be mass produced. There is no excuse not to have a hundred more JWST-class telescopes lined up next to the Texas launch pad waiting for Starship to come online. But as far as I know not a single space mission even mentions it-- that's how afraid they are of risk!

The JWST, with its myriad of fragile components and its staggering price tag, stands as a monument not to our ingenuity but to our inability to let go of outdated ideals.

We must abandon the notion that space is a realm reserved for the flawless and the infallible. Instead, we should embrace the chaos, the unpredictability, the sheer messiness of exploration. Let us launch a thousand telescopes, each a patchwork of parts, each destined to fail in its own spectacular way. For it is only in this embrace of the ephemeral that we can find out what actually works!

Let the JWST be the last of its kind, a relic of a bygone era. The future is unwritten, and it is ours to fill with a symphony of failures, each note a step closer to the stars.

[ss-shitstorm]

Hey sorry the next chapter of Bread is taking so long(I have a good reason I swear and that reason is I’m trying to speedrun the smut) In the meantime please accept this excerpt from my first ever participation in Kinktober(that probably won’t be ready until december at the earliest) and also the most self-indulgent shit I’ve ever written in my goddamn life.

Seraphim (working title)

Paring : Starscream/Reader, Starscream/You

Kinks : Strip clubs, Pole Dancing, Semi Public Sex, Leg/Heel Worship, Gentle Dom, Master/Student Dynamic, Drug induced sex

“Are you feeling alright?”

Asks your stage mate a stone’s throw away on his side of the holographic catwalk, half-naked protomass hugged flush against his frame as he slows to a lazy stop.

“I can’t keep my eyes on my pole and your body at the same time “A little dizzy” you say plainly, furiously chewing the quid in your tightening jaw. “My uh...my fluid pump is going kinda fast.”

“Syk will do that.” he says, loose grin splitting his face as he regards your tense, trembling frame. “That and the spark oscillations. Let your cooling fans catch up for a moment.”

That sounds like a good idea. But so does sinking to the floor, or collapsing on it, the latter a bit closer to reality than you’d like. “Alright. I’m um…gonna sit down for a sec.”

“Fortunately, we’ve a surpluses of seats.” He says, abandoning his portion of the stage and strolling over to yours. He offers his servo, far smoother and softer than you’d ever realized to pull you to your feet.

“Steady?” he asks as you take a tentative step forward.

You answer by stumbling on your arched ped, blinking not-quite in stereo.

“I suppose not.” He slings your arm over his shoulders as he hefts the majority of his weight from your frame into his. It has the (probably) unintended effect of pressing your face into his neck and your own exposed chassis against his as he walks you step by warm, blissfully unsteady step over to the front row, guiding you off the catwalk and into the frontmost seat.

Or, tries to. Said seat happens to be occupied by a stocky purple and yellow femme with squinted, bloodshot optics and lazy grin on her plastic face, making repetitive cheering motions while tossing glowstick-colored popcorn in your general direction.

“Wait.” You say as he starts setting you down, struggling not to slur over your alien bubble gum. “Someone’s in that seat.”

Airplane man blinks, looking from you, to the occupant and back. “They’re a hologram. They’ll be fine.”

“Yeah but, I still don’t want to sit on her.”

He blinks again. You grind your jaw harder, instinctively anticipating a hissyfit or long winded dump on you and your “pathetic leftover human sensibilities”.

But that’s not what you get.

What you get is a roll of his optics, pupils blown to oceanic proportions and a muffled snort under his breath as he chokes back a laugh.

“You’ve blown up cities with no remorse, and still pull the parking brake at being rude.” He says, taking the prifma from his subspace, activating it in all its ornate, infinitely complex glory. He waves it in front of the femme’s face and, once certain she’s enraptured, pitches it across the room.

She stumbles from her chair, bolting after it and giggling like a madman. You find yourself joining her, blown away by the attention to detail he’d put into this holodeck program. Even the NPC’s reliably stay in perfect, pleasantly-fucked up character as the patrons he’d based them off of.

“I had some remorse.” you say as he sets you down in the seat, non-linear headspace dangling the thread from earlier irresistibly in your peripheral. “About the city, I mean. I didn’t really want to do that.”

“I’m sure at least part of you did.” He answers with a knowing sneer that barely qualifies as a facial expression. “But that wasn’t intended to be an insult. I simply found the juxtaposition of those attitudes amusing.”

“I didn’t take it as one.” You bite down on your lip by sheer accident, and not because the tips of his digits as they release your arms send the most sublime wave of goosebumps cresting over your protomass. “And you’re right. I did kinda like doing it. Not because I wanted anyone hurt though.”

“Simply because you enjoy blowing scrap sky-high?” he asks with a probably unintentional purr.

“Yeah.” You swallow at nothing, suddenly very aware of how dry your intake has become. “Ah, crap. I should probably go get some coolant.”

“Good idea. Do you remember where the dispensary stations are located-wait.” His optics flash as he sinks down to his knees, reaching into his subspace to withdraw a handful of disposable coolant packets, before offering them to you. “Stay seated, my little apprentice. I’ve got you.”

Were you capable of producing tears in this state, you’d surely be crying. “You….you’re a god.” You croak, taking the handful and ripping the top off of the first one.

“And you’re an exceptional worshiper.” He winks, straightening and getting to his peds. “In fact, stay put and I’ll give you reason to be truly devout.”

“Mmmph.” Is your poignant reply, covertly spitting the quid out to jam the packet’s straw into your intake. Your denta might suffer for it later, but right now you’re thirsty, and your jaw is *exhausted*. “You what now?”

Something warm, satisfied as a cat that’d claimed a mouse washes over his face. A look like he’d been waiting for this precise moment his entire life as he strides towards the pole you’d abandoned, casting a sly smirk at you from over his shoulder.

“Allow me to show you how I got my stage name.”

Starcream, or, “Sykness”, as he’d revealed earlier, taps his audial, likely altering the holodeck parameters in a way you still don’t understand how to do yet. After a moment, and clearly satisfied, he steps forward, raising a servo to snap his fingers.

The lights dim, the ambient electrohouse music softens to a nigh-inaudible level.-, the track taking it’s place jogging a very human part of your memory. Your brow furrows in contemplation, chewing the straw on your cybertronian Capri-sun as your brain scrambles to place these famous first few notes into their respective cubby holes. You know this. C’mon think. Think.

Definition remains elusive even as it dawns, casting shadows and early sunlight over that meandering, out of place electric guitar riff. The thick, wet kick drum that starts just a moment too early. That melodic, haunting voice layered over aimless, choir-like vocals.

He steps forward, placing a servo on his hip, wrapping the other around the pole as he keels forward into a reverent bow, waiting for the true melody to start. How fitting it is, you think, that a being bowing to no worldly power allows music alone to bend his knee.

“Life is a mystery

Everyone must stand alone-”

How also fitting, you also think, that he’d choose a human song sharing the thematic nuance of the substance coursing through both your veins. Though the “Are you fucking kidding me” stays wedged behind your denta as he tilts his helm upward, reaching the servo from his hip toward the stars as a pharisaic priest calls upon his god.

“-I hear you call my name

And it feels like-

Home.”

The scattered percussion solidifies into a drumline, moving his hips for him as he he lowers his servo. He clutches it to his throat before drawing the digits down his face, savoring the theatrics until the tempo demands his full compliance. Which it does, as a drum and bass enhanced version of Madonna’s 12’ inch Like a Prayer club mix slides into its first chorus, while he slides into a splayed V at the base of the pole, sinfully sharpened legs spread towards your line of vision like a runway.

“When you call my name

It’s like a little prayer

I’m down on my knees

I wanna take you there.”

He bends them at the knees, backwards until the tips of his heels barely graze the top of his aft, before swinging the right one over the left, sprawling onto his back and reaching one arm horizontally beyond his head, drawing the other down his cleavage and chassis.

“In the midnight hour

I can feel your power

Jut like a prayer

I wanna take you there.”

Rolling to his side he faces you, sliding his servo down the length of his topmost leg as he raises it up. Up until the tip of his ped kisses the top of his helm, before swinging at the knee to place it flat on the floor, digits trailing along his thighs and aft as he pulls himself into a catlike crouch at the base of the pole.

“I hear your voice

It’s like an angel sighing

I have no choice I hear your voice,

Feels like flying.”

Fly he does, reaching both servos behind his back to wrap around the pole, pulling himself to his feet before hooking his heel and calf around the base and gliding in a half-moon circle until his lithe, winged back now faces you.

“I close my eyes

Oh god I think I’m falling

Out of the sky I close my eyes

Heaven help me-!”

In a feat of limber blasphemy that would make serpents weep, he holds the entirety of his weight in his servos while swinging his lower body forward and up. Knotting his peds at the top of the pole once there to hang upside down, frame held in the downward swoop of a diving falcon.

“When you call my name

It’s like a little prayer

I’m down on my knees

I wanna take you there.”

You’re certainly taken somewhere as he spins around once more to face you, weight balanced on a single leg as his second stretches out to meet his lifted arm in a sharp point. The other servo used to draw trails up the biolights peppering his sides, chassis, and throat before reaching towards you in a “come hither” gesture.

“In the midnight hour

I can feel your power

Just like a prayer

I wanna take you there.”

He circles round, leg akimbo before allowing both to fall to the floor. Kneeling at the pole, curving his back into a C as he transitions to all fours backwards. His chin tilts to the ceiling, optics half-lidded while bracing his digits on the stage, bending one leg up to his chassis and lifting the other pointedly in the air. The second joins it with a sharp kick, both dangling in a loose Y like silk strands in the breeze.

“Like a child

You whisper softly to me

You’re in control,

Just like a child

Now I’m dancing.”

With a cock of his helm, he pushes himself up and back on both servos, throwing both legs backwards, planting his heels on the stage before you and rolling to his feet, granting you full view of his tight, perfect aft while gliding his digits up along his calves and thighs.

“It’s like a dream

No end and no beginning

You’re here with me

Its like a dream

Let the choir sing!”

Straightening his frame to perch flamingo-like on one leg, he reaches one servo above his head, the other sailing from the curve of his waist out to his suspended knee, before flicking both forward, hitting the floor in a roundhouse spin that takes him back to the pole. Back and wings grind flush against the metal as he dips his aft towards the floor, one clawed servo woven between his legs to grip his panel. The other cups his chin so he can bite into his index digit, catching and holding your gaze with those smoldering vermilion searchlights.

“When you call my name

It’s like a little prayer

I’m down on my knees

I wanna take you there.”

He slides into a split, before rolling onto his back to push himself backwards-upright with his palms into a profile view, rhythmically rolling his hips into thin air. He kicks his leg up once, more, hooking it around the pole to sweep the rest of him in a slow circle, springing forward to grip it and pull himself straight.

“In the midnight hour

I can feel your power

Just like a prayer

You know I’ll take you there”

He hugs the pole, cradling the metal between the plush of his exposed chassis, before jutting his frame away. Throwing his helm back and pelvis forward, he thrusts his hips in a continuous, undulating wave, all the while flashing you looks from the corners of his optics and lightning-fast-denta-barring smirks.

“Just like a prayer

Your voice can take me there

Just like, a muse to me

You are a mystery-“

Alien amphetamines or no, you’re very much drugged. Captivated like a cobra frozen by a tamer’s flute. Though his song is one sung in movement, in the serene, frenzied picture his artful limbs paint on the present moment. A moment, which, while existing only within the borders of now, has no end or beginning. Time has stopped for the two of you, and now that it has, you’re made to realize it had no claim over either to begin with.

This mech isn’t just extraterrestrial. He’s extradimensional. The fairy king that’s brought you to the forested threshold of his world. The demon smothering coals made for sinner’s feet to walk you barefoot and painless into hell. The seraphim whispering through the jumbled flesh poetry your mind provides, filtering raw intent and cognition through the labyrinthine filter your bodied consciousness relies on. “Heaven exists.” The angel tells you. “And you’re living in it.”

You believe him, because he’d blessed both bread and wine and handfed them through your parched lips. Because he extended the molecular invitation that led you to and through the doors of perception. Because that’s exactly what beings made of bent light and stardust do, and that’s exactly what he is.

He’s a fucking angel.

“-Just like a dream

You are not what you seem

Just like a prayer

No choice your voice can take me there~”

One that’s making love to himself on that pole so you can watch. So you can be a part of it. Partner in this divine act on the celestial stage that exists only in the gap of your shared awareness.

You’d be content to dissolve into this awareness, this universal heartbeat owed to all by birthright yet obscured by the task of surviving. It’s the first you’ve tasted in *either* life you’d lived, and you’d known not how you hungered for it till it touched your lips.

“Your voice can take me there-”

But your soul cries for something more pressing, more primal. A deeper desire than the one to dive into and drink from this fountain. Behind your slaked thirst grows something far more earthbound but no less urgent around the branches of your heart. Something highlighted by the wicked, nubile body of this Enochian being twisting into shadows before you. By the legs that could lace ribbons ‘round your neck as easily as snap it in half. By the wings that could drop you from the stratosphere as well as shelter you from the sun.

By the arm’s-length distance and thin metal plating separating you from his array, which you’re trying very hard to not think about as stretches into a bird of paradise pose as his finishing move.

“-Like a prayer.”

He slides down to the base, righting himself into a crouch and finally a sit, but not before lassoing a leg to hook around your neck. He pulls you flush against his torso while slinging the other leg around your back, barricading you against his frame.

“You seemed to enjoy that more than I did.” He says, roping an arm around your shoulders as his leg slides down to the curve of your waist. “And I really, really enjoyed that.”

Of course he noticed that. Even despite his natural ability to read everyone within a five-mile radius like a book, he was watching you watch him the entire time. That, and he knows you. Sussed out every last one of your objectives before you even knew them time and time again. That, coupled with the empathic bond you currently share, and metric fuckton of emotional vomit you’d heaved into each other’s laps only an hour or so ago, breaking the barricades down between your naked hearts leads you to a conclusion. The frightening, nauseatingly-thrilling conclusion that he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

And what you’re thinking, you realize with dawning horror subverted to euphoria, is that he’s extremely fucking attractive.

He's hot. Brain-rewiring-hot. Hot beyond anything you or any member of your prior species conceptualized as attractive before. Renaissance painters covered faces of the divine in flesh, only because they knew not what the hands of God could mold from metal.

“I d-did.” You say with a stuttering hiss, his talons tracing the fringe of your wings. “I couldn’t look away if I wanted to.”

“Tell me you didn’t want to.”

“I didn’t.” You ex-vent shakily, nervousness and insecurity foreign concepts as a half-knowing smile spreads over your lips. “And you know damn well I didn’t.”

He laughs, high and pearly you can feel through his bare chassis as he pulls you closer, talons creeping up your spinal strut and sending pleasant goosebumps or the cybertronian version thereof bubbling along your protoform. “Reassurance is always appreciated. Especially from another seeker.”

Right. Robot god retroactively corrected his mistake by rebirthing you as the same breed of creature holding your attention and adrenal glands hostage. Except you’re not. No one is. No one comes close to replicating this supernova condensed into living metal, whose lap you’re currently sitting in. And that’s fine, because you didn’t come here to replicate a dying star, you came here to get lost within them.

An objective you’ve accomplished, upon summoning the courage and stupidity required to look into the sun. Those optics, those impish, mischievous, so very lucid and other optics even with the pupils blown and obscuring, they’re red like a sunset. That brilliant glow coaxing long shadows from the trees and canyons with their warm last strains of light. They offer the promise of further mystery, of the comforting cowl of night for those allergic to the sun to dance within.

He’s not the end of the light. Merely the beginning of darkness.

Perhaps, beyond the loving caress of true death, the gentlest darkness you’ll ever know.

“I might’ve told you this before, back when you were still entombed in that flesh prison-“ he begins, voice liquid velvet against your audials. “But I don’t want to end the night without telling you exactly how engaging I find that brilliant little mind of yours.”

He did tell you, didn’t he? He’d also told you, after testing a facefull of the product he’d conned you into making, that said flesh prison was the only reason he didn’t bend you over the counter and fuck you until your pelvis broke.

“I…thanks. You’re also attractive in the brain, and…um…everywhere else.” You say, fluid pump thrashing uncomfortably fast in your chassis and beneath his servo, which now hovers between your exposed cleavage. He can feel that. He can feel how worked up you are and there’s nothing you can do about it. “But…yeah…I think you said something like ‘Primus help me if you were cybertronian, let alone a flyer.’”

“Oh my. “ He smirks, drawing a talon beneath your chin. “You remember that verbatim?”

“Kinda hard to not.” You say around your stuttering spark. ”It’s not every day someone tells you they like you for YOU that much.”

"A shame. You ought to surround yourself with those who know you better.“

He’s laying on the compliments pretty thickly. And touching you pretty much everywhere he can without touching you *too* much. And while both of those things are absolutely facilitated by the party favor blasting insecurity and unneeded boundaries to bits, you can’t dismiss the possibility he’s hung out to dry in the air between you. Because that possibility is starting to sound like something you’d *very* much like to make reality.

“Since I um… y’know…became both of those things- “you start, squaring up to shoot your shot, venting hitched in please god please even with the bullseye inches from the barrel of your gun. “-what now?”

“Now?-” he says, tilting his helm towards yours, an undefinable something burning like distant stars in his optics as he leans in, lips grazing the very shell of your audial as he whispers:

“-Primus help me.”

You’re not sure who starts it. Maybe neither of you do. Maybe both. Maybe that matters less than the smell of ozone and residual coolant smothered by the taste of a foreign glossa on yours, because Starscream is fucking kissing you.

You’ve been kissed before. You’ve been kissed by metal titans before, prior to becoming one yourself. This is fact, painful and brilliant carved upon your spark. But neither fact nor scar holds any power over the present moment, because all that you are is screaming you’ve never felt like this. Not with every sensor in your frame lighting up like a firework at the ghost of his touch, the whisper of his lips against yours before he fully finds them. The electric zeal as they claim yours fully, neither asking nor demanding entrance to your intake that you give all the same because not listening, not giving, in not deepening this kiss and letting his glossa pins yours down isn’t possible.

This is surrender, some part of you thinks. This is what it feels like to die, once you’ve thrown up your arms and given your life up for lost. The comfort that swaddles you once you’ve stepped beyond, the placid anticipation of what comes next. And what comes next is whatever your reaper decides, because you’d handed him the reigns of this pale horse before ever donning your bridle.

He breaks the kiss, smooth venting uncharacteristically harried as he pulls his lips away only to bite them.

“I’ll take your reciprocation as enthusiastic consent-” he begins, optics searching yours for the tattered remains of hesitancy. “- unless you desire otherwise?”

You desire nothing other than swift and immediate continuation of where you left off. While normal, sober (y/n) might be too nervous to articulate that, Syk! (y/n) isn’t leashed by so useless an emotion. And nervous energy without fear is simply another word for exhilaration.

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t. I mean...” you shutter your optics, blowing out a breath. “This is fine. I like this.”

“Would you like to go further?”

You exhale sharply. This time, it’s you that reaches for his face, you that cups his chin in your servo, you that tilts his face up to yours.

“I’ll go as far as you let me.”

He blinks, taken by surprise, not aback by your boldness. It’s a vulnerable half second he hangs within your touch, before laughter erupts from his intake. At once rumbling and yet airy as he shakes his helm from your grasp.

“You’ve yet to interface at all in that body. Do you really want your first time to be while you’re this altered? While we’re gliding?”

“I know I want it to be with you.”

His optics widen, in-venting with a sharp hiss. This is only the second time you’ve caught him off guard tonight but it’s not going to be the last. Because the only thing more attractive than sassy, confident Starscream is reeling-from-raw-and-euphoric-truth Starscream.

“I...I’m not going to pretend this doesn’t sound appealing right now.” He says, a tinge of caution to his carefree tone. “But Syk... its going to set a standard. An impossible one. Nothing you do after this is going to feel the same. So I’ll ask you one more time-” he rears back, laying both servos on your shoulders “Are. You. Certain?”

That’s a good question. For literally anyone other than you, because you already know the answer. You’ve got very little to lose, other than this new body’s virginity. Hopefully to this chemically-induced non-asshole version of Airplane man, if you can scrape enough braincells together to tell him so.

While you’re scraping just that, you give his query some space from your spark and genitals you still aren’t totally certain how to use yet. Even with that space, you can’t find a reason to *not* get your seal ruptured and back blown out in a perfect replication of the nightclub your ex’s ex used to manage, complete with music and strung out NPCs. A handful of which a re literally cheering the two of you on and making obscene hand gestures.

The stars had already aligned once to bring you two back into each other’s lives. You’re not waiting till mercury falls into retrograde to for another chance to fuck this up.

“You are an impossible standard, and you know you are.” you tell him through gritted denta. “Sober or not, if we frag you’re gonna ruin me for anyone else. So go ahead-” you reach for his servos, plucking them from your shoulders and planting them firmly on your hips. “-and fucking ruin me.”

Starscream inhales sharply. Then jerks forward sharply. Then grabs your waist, pulls it against his and crashes his lips against yours once more sharply.

Softly, you yelp in surprise. Softly you melt into it, losing a fluttery moan as his servo slides down to the small of your back, holding you steady even while he pushes you down onto the stage. Quite loudly you whine as his other hand finds the base of your left wing, pinching them betwixt his thumb and index digit.

Erogenous zones in a truly alien bit of anatomy flare to life like a litebrite set, twinkling in a magically mundane fashion at the edges of your nervous system. It’s something like lips, nape of your neck, and inner thigh all twined into one nerve cluster wet nightmare, one that has you hooking your legs around his hips and squealing against his mouth as he dips you into the floor.

The squealing again, this time in pain as your flared right wing crimps miserably against the floor. Airplane man, to his credit immediately pulls your frame up off the floor and back against his body.

“Fold them in, my dear.” he says, breaking away from your lips to reach for the wing you’d nearly sat on, tucking it in against your frame. “It’s worth the extra effort, believe me.”

You, reeling both from the endorphins still crashing through your veins and from the visceral reminder you’re not at all used to this *new* prison for your soul, need a moment to form words. “I...okay.” you exhale, folding what rightfully feels like an extra, lightweight leg sutured into your back up and against it. “Is there...uh...anything else I should know about this uh, frame?”

“I’ll tell you as we go.” He rears back, optics softening even as they narrow. “I’m going to level with you, I’ll be getting a bit bossy. There’s simply no part of me that enjoys being subdued, I’m afraid. Primus knows I get enough of that treatment *outside* the berthroom.” He works his jaw for a moment, though wither that’s from less-than-fond memories or the quid he’d discarded prematurely, you’re not sure. Is...is that going to be a problem?”

If it is going to be a problem, it’s going to be your problem, because there’s no way in hell you’re backing out now. “I can do either.” You say with absolute sincerity, all too eager to pass your whip and chains to his hands. “Just gimme a safeword, and we’re good.”

The silken, serene smile returns to his flawless face. “Right then. What’s the name of that organic spice you used to make this sojourn possible?”

You squint your optics in thought, thinking back to the agonizing lab session literally less than 24 hours ago. “Pepper?”

“Then it’s pepper.” he cocks his helm. “I trust you know how to use it?”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

“Very well.” He pauses in thought for a moment, though only a moment, before that sweet grin takes a subtly capricious flavor. He detangles himself from you, rising to his peds only to step over your delightfully disheveled form, trapping you between his perfect legs. “I noticed you noticing these-” he runs both servos up his silver calves and thighs “-a fair bit more than the rest of me. Why don’t you start paying your tithes there, and this deity will make it worth your while?”

Honestly the payment sounds equal to or better than the eternal reward. But you don’t tell him that as you lower yourself to the floor in a reverent bow and press your mouth to the hollow of his ankle, plying the not-quite-entirely-solid metal between your lips. Then, when met with no resistance, sliding your glossa out and making long, urgent strokes beneath he ball of his ped.

Your god shudders, wincing pleasantly as he leans his weight back into the pole. “Oh my. Getting right down to business, are we? Not a shred of disobedience in you?”

“Nah.” you lift your helm to plant a kiss on the tip of his stiletto, before drawing your lips up to his calf, oh-so-carefully pinching the metal between your denta. The texture of either so vibrant tears nearly spring to your optics. How is he real. How. “Are you gonna punish me for being *too* good?”

“I’d be an awfully inconsiderate master to do that.” he gives a low hiss, then a not-so-subtle jerk of his hips, indicating his thighs are trying to clamp shut. “Unless that’s something you’re interested in?”

You take a moment to respond, preoccupied with nipping at the protomass exposed near the top of his legs. God the way his plating comes together makes them look like thigh-highs Wicked, steel, razor-sharp thigh highs. “Not especially.

“Then we’ll do the opposite.” he says, peering down at you, placing a reassuring servo atop your helm. “You’re doing an immaculate job, darling.”

At “darling” you find your thighs involuntarily clenching together, because of course.

Of course this dude’s into dolling out the praise he’s personally starved for. Of course *uplifting* those around him as apposed to grinding them into the carpet gets him going harder while he’s gliding. Of course he just introduced a sweet, gentle dominatrix fetish you didn’t know you needed in your kink catalog.

You loose a muffled growl against metal flesh, painfully aware of not only a throbbing ache between your legs, but also an uncomfortable pressure further towards the front. Jesus this is gonna take some getting used to.

“Oh frag.” he murmurs, optics half shuttered as you shift your weight to your knees, straightening to cup his ankle and ped in your palm as you press your lips to the back of his knee. He sinks further back against the pole, leaning his weight into the other leg. “Vector-fraggin’-sigma you’re good at this.”

You’re beginning to wonder if seeker legs serve as sexual soft spots the way wings do, or if that’s literally just a Starscream thing. Either way, the face he wears as you make sweet oral love to his struts is enough to throw you over the edge on your own. Or would be, if you could keep dry humping the floor. But a few precious inches further up in absolute territory is all that separates you from the panels covering his array, which at once weeps tears of shimmering lubricant through the metal and bows out in the front. The more malleable metal thinly veiling what in no uncertain terms is going to split you in half later.

Sinking your weight into your own peds, you raise yourself off the ground, making your way towards both of those things. Only for your vision to be obscured by splayed digits as he covers your face with a servo, pushing your helm away.

“Oh no, not yet. You stay down, my dear.” he purrs despite the hitch in his breath, eyeing you like a beloved cat trying to climb his leg.

Much like a cherished feline, you make a face as though you’ve been kicked across the room instead of gently reprimanded. “Okay.... How do I get to your valve or spike, then?”

“Hmmm. Good question.” he says, righting himself to stare contemplatively into the distance. And doing little more, loose smile still plastered on his face as he regards thin air with pleasant ambiguity. Even experienced dominatrixes have issues chasing the next command when rolling their tits off, you suppose.

Though he might be a bit further gone than that. After a few more moments of nothing but the confusing primal scream of your new genitals, you rap softly on his hip. “Hey, uh, my next command, master?”

“Oh scrap, right.” he startles, blinking not quite in stereo. “I was trying to calculate and...ah, hang on a moment.” He narrows his optics at the ceiling. ”How long ago did we start gliding?”

“Well…it kicked in right when we came in here.” you say, struggling with your own fractured memory. “And we were dancing together for a while before you started dancing. And you dragged me over to the mirror to”-turn me on with my own body you altruistic narcissist-“ make me feel better. And we were talking for a really long time before that, so maybe…two hour-“

“Ah ah ha. “He cuts you off with an index digit placed against your lips and a yeilding, good-natured sneer. “In cybertronian..”

You choke over your stuttering spark, because surprise surprise, that grammatical correction just turns you on even more. Stop trying to acclimate me sky daddy. “….A cycle?”

His optics flit towards the ceiling, chewing his lip in thought. “Ah. Well, that puts us at about the halfway mark, when our experience would begin to taper off and pull us molecule by molecule out of the Allspark. The operative word here being ‘would’.” He dips a servo into his subspace, emerging with a packet of dusky-blue granules that seem to pulse faintly in time with the bass in the background.

You raise an optical ridge, both the color and reactive properties recalling a skeleton you’d only partially memorized. “Is that…is that Nucleon-”

“-Nail in freebase form?” he finishes for you. “Yes actually, the very same you made for me. I salted it out of the injector this morning. Good job, by the way. Not that I expected anything less. It’s also our extended-stay pass to this neurochemical sanctuary. It’ll extended our glide for another cycle and a half, before hailing us in for a *much* smoother landing than without.”

“If it’s not in the injector...How do we take it?”

“Insufflated.”

Like you’d watched Knockout do with the circuit speeder. How delightfully trashy. “Do we need like…a mirror? Or a razorblade? Or like…a straw or something?”

With an expression you clock in at about 15 million degrees C, he laughs. “Oh no. We need only once another for this. And since you’ve been such a good pet, you’re going first.”

Gritting your denta worryingly tight and probably also the inside of your cheek, you watch as he retracts the front half of his array panel, allowing his spike to spring free. It bobs slightly, catching refractive light from the many mirrors, lasers and visualizers. With human eyes, you might’ve had a stroke trying to comprehend exactly what you’re looking at. Without them, you still might be having a stroke, with the deep carnelian and acid yellow biolights and nodes peppering the sides, the tip itself a dimly glowing ember in the relative darkness.

Syk nonwithstanding, it might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life. But *with* the Syk, burning light trails and tracers into the peripheral of your optics, you’re quite certain this is some sort of holy relic.

Venting rapidly, your priest kneels at your side, leaving you to watch stupefied as he spreads a generous bump’s worth of powder on the shaft near the base. He then grips the back of your helm, gently guiding you towards your sacrament. “Go ahead darling. You’ve earned it.”

Whelp. You didn’t exactly sign up for this when you agreed to manufacture illicit robot pharmaceuticals, but you also didn’t give your signature for anything else that’s happened. And the *anything else*, thus far, has been the most spontaneous, most fun, most healing night of your goddamn life. In for a penny, in for a glitch switch, I guess.

With herculean willpower to not simply wrap your intake around the head, you dutifully obey, hold one of your nostrils shut, using the other to clean the powder off of his cock.

It burns. Not terribly so, but enough to make you gasp, and your optics water. Panting and sniveling, you try once more to get to your feet only to be held down by one of Airplane man’s savagely sharp ones.

“Not quite yet. Give it time to hit, and once it does, stay put until the room stops spinning. Then you can get up.”

If the sight of his swollen, glowing dick inches from your face isn’t enough to make you cream your jeans, then the pressure of his heels against the back of your head might just be. “How long? For it to kick in, I mean.”

“Likely just long enough for my turn.” he says, dangling the baggie as an afterthought. “Lie down and roll over, my dear.”

You do precisely that, sinking down to the floor once more as a dull, chemical taste seeps into the back of your mouth. “Am I supposed to spit this out, or-?”

“If you please. It’ll be slightly easier on your filters.” He extends a talon to draw a circular gesture in the air. “Face down, aft up in the air, please.”

Growling under your breath, you do exactly that, burying your face in your folded arms while your legs strain to heft your ass upright. There’s a half-second delay between the order to move your limbs and their actual movement that’s making this simple command a fair bit more complex. Maneuvering yourself isn’t impossible, but it does take more concentration than you remember. As does keeping yourself in place as the floor and ceiling begin to undulate like a waterbed, or surfboard over choppy water.

Though that’s not what’s taking up the majority of your inebriated attention. No, that’s Starscream holding your hip with one servo, using the other to scatter powder onto the exposed protomass of your ass.

“Primus blessed, you are a marvel, you know that?” he purrs, closing the bag and slipping it back into storage.

Even with your face partially obscured, you struggle to tear your eyes away from his exposed chassis, slutty little waist and noxiously gorgeous spike bouncing in plain sight through the window of your legs. “I’m...I’m starting to believe it.”

He gives a deep chuckle, one that rolls through the hollow where your bones would be. Though it’s drowned out by the squeal you give as he digs his talons into the meat of your aft. Just fucking fucking wreck me already.

He lowers his helm, and you can feel both the hot air from his intake as he vacuums the powder off your ass and a second, unholy wave of “oh god fuck me *yes* washing over you like a tsunami. The nail must be kicking in. Though unlike the Syk, it carries with it a sort of benevolent aggression. You still want to dance, let the bass possess and move your body for you. Still want to get fucking railed by the saint that provided you with both, but you’ve less qualms insisting about either. You’re in a position to *demand* cuddle puddles, *demand* those puddles turn into a fuck castle. And if it doesn’t, that’s fine and well. Everyone’s gotta be on the same page about this, of course.

But long, arylcyclohexylamine derivatives aside, you’ve very little issue asking for the debauchery you desire.

“Oh god.” you bite into your servo, smothering a full blown whore moan. “God I need your dick in me so bad-!”

“Spike, my dear.” Corrects your deity. “And you haven’t even taken yours out yet.”

That’s a good point. One that’d be easier to illustrate if you knew how to do that. “Where’s my dick?” you whimper, fumbling blindly around the vicinity of your crotch.

Starscream looks at you with the genuine compassion one would have for a neutered companion animal. “Oh, you are adorable.” he crooks his finger, ushering you forward. “A bit closer, and I’ll be happy to show you-oh frag.”

His optics widen, helm tilting downward as the Nail presumably barges into his system with a battering ram and war cry. He leans his back into the pole, sliding towards the floor. “Oh my. Oh yes. Oh frag me yes this is fragging perfect-!”

His helm lolls back for a second, chassis slowly heaving as his nervous systems finds it’s feet in this neurochemical balancing act. You watch his gorgeous face melt into a caricature of pure bliss, before sliding those sunset-red, newly hungry optics over to you, flitting from your face, the juncture of your bodies, to his spike, still twitching viciously erect in the velvet in the air between you.

“Still want me to show you around your array, pet?” he hooks an arm under your leg, both to pull you against him and dip his talons into the seam between your inner thigh and valve panel.

The tips of his talons send cold lightning bursting through the outer lips of your pussy and well up into your belly. You gasp, choking back, then on a whine as it escapes your lips. “Yes. Please please please yes.”

“And you seem awfully intent on attending to this.” he says, retracting the razor-sharp plating of his claws to expose smooth, slender, probably extraordinarily dexterous fingers to cradle the length of his cock, pumping them in a slow, languid motion.

“I might actually die if you don’t let me put that thing in my mouth.” you say without a shred of sarcasm, being terminally deficient in a form of vitamin d the sun can’t possibly provide.

His lip curls into a smirk, exposing a sliver of perfect denta as he slides forward. “Well, we don’t want that happening again, do we? So by all means-” he draws his free servo up your leg to your inner thigh, slipping those smooth, blunted fingers into the dripping seams of your panel to not just retract them, but sink *into* the freshly exposed, soaking wet folds of your pussy. All the while clutching the back of your helm, pulling your face down flush with the weeping head of his spike.

“-Go ahead, my dear.”

[that-one-anxious-mango]

Summary: A old friend of Austin's and a little green eyed monster decide to fourth wheel on a date. Contents: Mild Angst. Jealous reader. Fluffy ending. Mentions and allusions to sex. A/N: Hello my lovelies and those of us still here lol. I've missed you and I hope you enjoy this installment of DOOL.

Paring: Austin Butler x Black Reader

P.S Everyone feel free to comment, send more prompts, and reblog! Much Love *hugs* Tags: @purejasmine, @wacoshuffle, @lousiejoy86

----

“ You do know that it's my turn to pick the movie tonight, right? “ Austin reminded and took a sip of his coffee while walking along the sidewalk.

Face frowning you said, “ Are you sure? Because I’m almost positive that it was your turn last? Didn’t we watch some Chris Nolan movie? I think the new one with Denzel Washington’s son, right?” You recall,  looking around at the rest of the people passing by.

Austin’s lips upturned in amusement, “ Nope. That was the time before, baby. And, yes, the movie was called Tenet. You’d remember that had you not fallen asleep the first twenty minutes of the movie and made me watch it by myself.” 

Blushing at the way he called you out, you attempted to defend yourself, “ First off, I didn’t remember the name of it because,  I just simply  didn’t remember the name of it. “ You sassed making Austin laugh.

“ And second, it wasn’t like I fell asleep on purpose. I was TIRED. “ You threw up the hand that was holding your chai tea, “ Plus, as I recall, buddy. The reason I was so tired that night in the first place was because YOU decided to break my back in like a glowstick prior to the movie! And then had the audacity to expect me to stay awake. PSSH.” You blew air.

By now Austin was laughing and blushing at your comeback while remembering all too well how he had bent you over the arm of your living room couch the moment he’d walked in, and did in-fact break your back in like a glowstick.

“ Okay, Alright. I..guess…that time was understandable because I did wear your little ass out beforehand.” He said, making you roll your eyes at his cocky nature, “ BUT! What’s your excuse for all the other times you’ve fallen asleep on my movies, because I don’t always put it on you before we watch them.” He fired out.

Grinning because you knew he’d sorta had gotten you caught now, you resorted to doing the only thing you could think of to shift the heat away from you, “ So, are you going to attempt to crack my back in before the movie tonight, or will you give me a fighting chance to stay awake? ” You flirted and purposely batted your eyelashes at him.

Feeling apart of him jump at your question, Austin remained cool with his answer shrugging, “ Don’t know. It’ll depend on how I feel after seeing you bent over and twisted up after this yoga class.” He responded, shooting you a look. “ Plus don’t try and change the subject, baby. I’m picking.”

Heat began to pool at the surface of your cheeks, but they soon cooled down at the reminder of what you were about to do. Adjusting the mat stuck under your side you asked, “ Speaking of this yoga class, how intense is this about to be? Cause I’m rusty.“ 

Squeezing your hand in reassurance he brought it up to place a kiss to it, “ I signed us up for the intermediate, babe. So it’s just standard. I know you said you’d taken a couple of classes with Alex. So I thought starting at the normal pace would be good, okay.”  He looked at your face and saw a little bit of the worry fade, but he still knew you wouldn’t be 100% sure until you actually got in the class and saw for yourself.  

“ You just gotta trust me, babe. It’ll be okay. Okay? “ 

Hesitant, you nodded, “ Okay.” 

“  Yeah? “ He smiled, infecting you with his excitement when you could feel a mirroring one appear on your face. 

“ Yeah, Okay.” 

—

Once inside the yoga studio, Austin walked you around a little bit,  giving you a mini tour and pointing out little things of interest. 

This particular yoga studio was one he’d been coming to for a long time since he’d moved to LA. 

Looking around you tried your hardest to pay attention to the things your boyfriend was referring to when it came to the interior and the history behind certain figurines and patterns splashed against the wall. But, instead you unfortunately focused on gazing at the other women who too moved throughout the place.

Most of them were slimmer than you and were proudly showing off their yoga and pilates acquired abs by wearing super tight, expensive and shapely athleisure wear. Their pony tails wagged in the wind or claw clips bounced as they walked. All in all the majority of them looked like they either frequented the place or were naturally accustomed to climates like this. 

Unlike you, who felt like the sore thumb that was sticking out with your mini twists in a bun, black loose fitting Aaliyah shirt, black- white trimmed sweatpants, and a decent pair of older running NIKEs you forgot you’d had. 

Too busy caught up playing the comparison game, you were pulled away by the voice of Austin repeatedly alerting you that you’d reached your designated room. 

Entering, you took in the aura of the dimmed room of people, the smell of sandalwood wafting in the air, the cool chill of the perfectly air conditioned space.. Most of all though, you took in the way that one particular girl was eyeing you up and down as you let Austin lead to a spot in the middle left of the room.

Still hand and hand Austin guided you to where your reserved spot was while you continued to hold eye contact with the girl ever so often.

Stopping, Austin motioned to the floor with a smile and you dropped your mat to the floor.

The both of you crouched down next to each other, and you noticed how at ease the movement was for your boyfriend. All the recent training for Elvis had proven to make him quite flexible and mobile.

And you decided to tease him about it, “ Got them Megan Knees, babe. I see how fast you dropped it low. Real hot boy shit.”

Bashful and laughing at your antics, Austin playfully swatted at you, “ Shut it, and pay attention, you goof.” 

He hadn’t even gotten a chance to help you unroll your mat properly before a voice could be heard from behind you two.

“  Austin? Austin Bulter? Is that you?” It questioned.

Standing straight up and whirling around to see who it was, you were met with the woman who had in-fact been assessing you from across the room earlier when you’d arrived.

Up close now you could take her in better.

She was a petite woman with a sun kissed tan and thick black hair that spilled into a nice long ponytail. To the eye she looked to be nicely in shape and wore a black lulu lemon set that showed it off. 

Freckles adored her face and it could be seen that she had an array of tattoos scattered across her skin. Including a black makeup brush on her index finger that she was currently using to point at your boyfriend. 

“ I knew that was you.” She raved immediately going in for a hug. “ God! It’s been ages since I’ve seen you around. Where have you been? “ 

Austin looked to happily reciprocate the unexpected meeting by giving her a couple of pats on the back and pulling away with a somber smile.

“ Mack. What a surprise. Didn't expect to run into you here. You're back taking classes I see.” Austin noted. “ And I’ve been around. Working mostly and prepping for this new project. How about you? Staying busy? “ 

“ Oh man! That’s so dope. I had heard the news that you were playing King Creole himself but hadn’t gotten the chance to congratulate you. Don’t think I have your number anymore. 

But after a client from the set of my new gig reminded me of this place I decided to give yoga another shot. Though I started at another studio but then once she mentioned this one, I remembered it from when we used to come here.” She explained motioning to the matching black mat in hand. 

At the last statement you could feel your ears perk at the end part.

When we used to come here? As in her and Austin? 

Then your mind quickly drifted off to another lingering question that made you feel a bit queasy. 

Did they used to date? 

Feeling a bit small in the moment you decided to sneakily put some distance between Austin and yourself and instead chose to wrap your arms around your torso as a way of grounding.

“ Yeahhhh…” Austin dragged, “ Wow that’s cool. Glad you're enjoying yourself. I know this wasn’t always your first choice of hobby. But I’m glad you're giving it another chance.” He nodded.

“ Me too.”  Mack replied before focusing her attention directly to you, brightly smiling, “ And who might we have here? Someone else you're trying to convert to the dark arts of the zen life.“ She questioned.

Looking between you and Mack, Austin went to grab your hand that he thought would still be by his side, but slightly frowned to see your new position.

Quickly shaking it off he introduced you, “ I’m sorry. I’m being rude. Mack this is Y/N, my girlfriend. And Y/N this is Mack, an old friend of mine from when we worked on the same set a couple years back.” 

Putting on a level smile you reached out your hand for her to shake and took note of the very firm grip she had and how hard she shook it.

“ Awe, that's so sweet. I like that name! Y/N, very different. Nice to meet you! I just know this guy is treating you well. He treats everyone well.” She informed while never getting rid of the grin on her face. “ You excited about the class? “ 

Noticing the little hint to her voice at one comment, you began to feel super uncomfortable. 

Even still,  you tried your best to fake a smile and continue being cordial, “ That he does And yes, I’m pretty excited.” 

“ Good.” She nodded, “ I’m sure the saint here will teach you everything he knows. Awesome teacher.” 

“ Yeah, I-uh do my best. Definitely no saint though.” Austin interjected and rallied small laughs from around the poorly formed triangle. “ Barely know what I’m doing half the time myself. Just kinda go with it.” 

“ Could’ve fooled me.” Mack responded while looking at Austin with a tinge of something that anyone could have mistaken for flirting. 

When you looked at Austin with slightly raised eyebrows you could tell he was trying his best to end the conversation here since he’d maybe picked up too on some of the hints Mack was throwing out, “Hmm, but uh..it was good seeing you Mack. I hate that we couldn't catch up longer but I think the class is about to start and I need to get this one all set up.” He pushed, moving to wrap an arm around you.

He felt how you were a little rigid against his touch, and right there he could tell you were upset.

“  That’s cool. Oh, you’ll love it, Y/N “ Mack paused and then motioned to the little open space next to Austin’s mat. ”Is anyone set up next to you guys? Mind if I join?” 

Biting the inside of your cheek in agitation and looking to Austin with almost pleading eyes, you hoped to God he had an answer to give her in an attempt to make her go away.

 Looking between you and her in indecision he went, “ Go for it.”

“ Sick.” She nodded, dropping her mat to the floor. 

Looking on in disbelief, you weren’t sure if you should wait for an impractical joker to appear or keep going with the charade because you were almost positive you were about to be punked. 

Watching as she giggled and laughed with your boyfriend while unrolling her ALO mat, you pretended to be invested in the practice of setting up your own mat and then pre-stretches. When really you were working overtime to contain the feelings of anxiety and jealousy pitting within your chest.

Austin had just finished laughing at something the woman said before he turned to you, “ You got it babe, do you need me to help you? “ 

Not bothering to make eye contact, you simply responded, “ I’m good. I got it.” 

Hearing the very thin but still noticeable ice in your voice he moved to ask again, “ You sure. Because I c- ” 

“ I said I got it. Austin. Thanks, though.” You turned to stretch out your leg.

Skeptical but not getting another chance to ask, a bell chimed throughout the room which you could only assume was the signal that class had begun. 

Begrudgingly turning your attention to the instructor, you prepared yourself for the next hour and a half ahead of you.

And oh boy! What a hour and a half it was!

From Mack and Austin conversating beside you about memories and things from a time before you, to Mack whisper shouting over to you about certain positions she knew and how the class had changed, Austin each time politely nodding followed with a shush. 

Still Mack also formed a habit of engaging in giving you “ friendly critiquing “ .

“ Oh honey is that as far as you can go. You need to be a little lower than that for this one.” 

“ That looks good, Y/N. Maybe just try easing into the next pose a little lighter.”

“ Good form. Just remember to keep that tummy pushed in.” 

“ Awe Aus. She is such a newbie. So cute.” 

With these statements each time you had to remind yourself that, 1) This was supposed to be peaceful and if you blocked her out, maybe you could find some zen. And 2) You had to remember that this seemed like something important to Aus for you to try. So you were. Trying.

Trying to not collect your things and sashay out of the building to the closest Shake Shack in range, you continued to muddle through the rest of the class and let your loose running thoughts consume you. 

By the end of the class after enduring the awkwardness of Mack mixed with the feeling of frustration and embarrassment at not being able to stick some of the poses. 

You could tell you were about to leave feeling more wired than when you came in.

As everyone began wrapping up their mats and Mack had begun chitter chatting away to a clearly annoyed Austin, you took it as an opportunity to quickly gather your things and usher yourself out the room by swiftly telling Austin that you were hot and needed some air so you’d meet him outside of the building.

He didn’t have a chance to protest or for Mack to say her goodbyes as you Sonic the Hedge Hog’d your way out of the room. 

Upon painstakingly talking to Mack for all of twenty more minutes, Austin gathered his things and rushed out the studio to find you contently people watching on a bench.

Offering you a hand,  with a smile you politely declined citing that your hands were dirty and clammy from the floor. And instead the two of you walked in silence all the way to Austin’s car. 

-

“ So…” Austin attempted to speak over the sound of the radio’s hum, “ Were there any snacks that you might have wanted to pick up for tonight while we’re on the way?” 

This was not only a peace offering to whatever was making you upset, but it was also a test to see just how upset you were. 

Not bothering to turn your attention away from looking at the buildings and pedestrians passing by, you replied, “ I was actually thinking that maybe you could just drop me off at my place. I don’t think I feel that up to movie night anymore.” 

Austin frowned, “ Why? Are you alright? Do I need to stop and grab some type of medicine or something? I mean I have everything at my place. You don’t have to go home.” He offered. 

Still you didn’t budge, “ It’s fine. I’ll be okay at my place. We’ll have to see if we can do it another time, maybe.” 

Austin sighed and realized then that it was something physically wrong, but rather mentally something was bothering you. 

He could already guess what and recognize you were shutting down and pushing away. 

“ Then I guess I’ll just be by my lonesome tonight. Me and a pack of gummy bears watching some sad sci-if.” Austin mentioned your favorite movie candy in hopes to garner some reaction. 

And it did, just not the one he expected, 

“ Well. Maybe you don’t have to be. I’m sure if you called Mack she’d be more than happy for the two of you to hang out and share your bag of animal shaped fruit.” 

When Austin heard Mack’s name, your snarky comment about the gummy bear, and the tone of your statement, it revealed to him the key piece he needed to confirm his suspicions as to why the testy hermit next to him in the passenger seat had appeared.

Austin wasn’t dumb, nor was he completely oblivious. 

He had noticed the way you’d shrunk away from him in the studio after Mack’s unexpected arrival, the quietness and apprehension you’d shown him at his attempts to help you in class, and especially the way you high tailed it out of the building the minute the bell chimed that class was over. 

With all that concluded, he could confirm: 

You were jealous and you were a bit upset.

Next he carefully thought over his word choice before he spoke, “ I’m pretty sure Mack can manage to find some type of night of fun on her own.” He said, “ Plus, it’s movie night. And you already know I don’t hang out with anyone or go anywhere on movie night unless it’s with you.” 

You wouldn’t lie and say that a part of you wasn’t pleased to hear him say that, because you truly were. But even this set of reassuring words wasn’t enough to shake the feeling that Mack had been looking to Austin for much more than a nice conversation and brief trip down memory lane. 

“ Well I just figured since you and her looked like you had a lot to talk about. Maybe you’d enjoy catching up and hanging out. Having some fun. For old times sake.”  You quipped. 

Austin looked at y and smiled then simply went, “ Nope. Not really.” 

You still didn’t stray your eyes away from the scenery as a brief silent pause hung in the air before Austin spoke in an attempt to bite the bullet. 

“ Honey…” he started,” Why don’t you just save us both the trouble and just go ahead and ask me what’s really on your mind. Hmm?” 

You turned to him with wide eyes at the way he’d just effectively opened up the conversation. It was something you were still getting used to, how open he was with you. 

Blinking a few seconds and looking at him nodding and beckoning you on, you asked, 

“  Fine. Did you two used to be a thing? “ 

With the question he took a second to gather his thoughts, but with each passing millisecond it seemed to grind your teeth and twiddle your thumbs. 

“  Sorta…” He finally answered. 

Before you could voice for more information, he stuck up a hand to pre-silence you. 

“ And by sorta I mean that when we met on set Mack was new to town and didn't really have any friends. Both her parents are deceased and she had just broken up with her partner.” He explained. 

“ So once she became my makeup artist. We talked a little bit and she seemed nice. She was extremely chatty and wasn’t bad to talk to. “ 

“ I brought up how I was starting to go to yoga once and she then proceeded to invite herself to tag along. I never had the heart to tell her no.” 

“ So you were just friends? Or was it like a relationship? A fling…..? “ You grasp for clarification. 

“ More friendly than a fling. But It is true that we messed around a little during filming. It was only purely physical, though.” He answered honestly, “ I was fresh out of a relationship and didn’t really want anything too serious, Mackenzie was looking to have a little bit of fun too, so we’d do what we’d do after hours. But at all times we were aware that we weren’t serious. Our “ fling “ ended right around when filming did. We lost touch and today is the first time I’ve seen her since.”

You nodded, taking in all the information that you just had been given causing another awkward period of silence. 

After a second you took a breath and replied, “ Well, good I’m glad you two used to have fun at least. Seemed like you two were at least really good friends to each other when needed. So…that’s good…I guess.” You doubled back a bit in thought.  “ She seems…. special.” 

Trying to conceal the smirk of his lips, Austin responded, “ I think that Mackeznie is special when it comes to doing movie makeup and sorts, yes..” Austin said, “ But aside from that I can say that our…situationship I guess wasn’t super deep or anything.” 

“ I think at one point she wanted it to be special and more intimate but, like I said before, I wasn't really looking for that. And no matter how many attempts she made, I just didn’t want us to go outside the bounds of our agreement.” He furthered.

“ So, there were no romantic feelings involved? “ 

“ No.” Austin clarified, “ Not on my part. Maybe her at a time. And on a couple of instances she tried to spark something, but it never stuck.” 

Hmmph. 

“ And you never thought about it. Taking it to a more special place? Not even once? Even in passing? “ You questioned fully turning your body toward him now. 

He didn’t hesitate, “ No. Not once or any of the other fifty times.” 

“ As you could probably see, the girl also has a truly persistent spirit. “ He followed up. 

“ Yea..” You responded. 

With now knowing what you knew and reviewing the content, you concluded that you sounded ridiculous right now, but unfortunately it seemed like the little green eyed monster had overtaken you and you couldn’t help it.

You knew he was being honest with you. Especially for the simple fact that after all this time he’d never not been honest with you about anything you asked, so you were sure he wouldn’t now.

Clearing your throat a bit to hide how dry it’d gotten due to embarrassment, you said, “ Well thanks for being honest with me. And…” You sighed, “ I’m sorry for being a bit childish when I asked. It's not a sin to have a dating past and I’m surely not trying to crucify you for yours.” 

Nodding while pulling into the parking lot of your apartment complex, Austin stopped the car and killed the engine before turning to look at you. 

“As you like to say. First of all, you don’t have to thank me for being honest with you. I’ll always be honest with you, sweetheart. You gotta know that's a given.” He started looking you dead in the eyes.

“ And SECOND OFF.” He exaggerated as you both laughed, “ I wanna apologize for not being more direct with her earlier and not declining for her to intrude on our date. I didn’t mean to let that make you uncomfortable and I’m sorry you felt that way. I don’t ever want you to feel that way when we’re together.”. 

Leaning over so he could cup your face in his hands, he brushed one of your mini twists that had fallen out of your bun away from your face, 

“ With that being said, I wanna tell you that I love you. And that I’m really excited to be sharing a special place with you and only you.” 

Stomach fluttering and heart rate taking off. You opted to unbuckle your seat to move over and climb into his lap. Wrapping your arms around him, you took a second to take in his face. 

The pink of his lips and the way his little cupid’s bow curved.

The lightly scattered freckles along his cheek.

The blue of his eyes that swirled shades of cobalt and cerulean. 

And the sparkle of his smile.

All together made your heart swell.

Cupping his cheeks in your hands, you lean down to place a tender kiss to his lips that he eagerly reciprocates, returning the caress to your neck and chin.

You relished in the feeling of intimacy and love further supplied by every touch of his hand and fleeting breath passing along your lips. 

When you both pulled away, you exchanged a moment of unspoken words that said.

You’re special to me. 

You both smiled and continued to hold each other, until you separated and you found yourself back in your seat with a gooey feeling warming the bottom of your belly.

“ Now, we that have that cleared up. Let’s go and see if anything is up there you need before we head to my place.” He grinned, “ Because, baby. You’re coming home with me.” 

Your face lit up and the whole time all you could think was….how special of a man he was.

[silusvesuius]

Before, in all my travels, I've seen ships and thought, "yo epic cool this is wonderful. I will watch them like feeding birds in the park in the morning." all was fine and great and I loved seeing the dynamic and Everything about them, especially ships revolving Elenwen because I think she is simply a splendid character, truly stellar.

However. Recently I've been made aware of the most miraculous ship known to Mankind.

Now I know true Obsession. This is what it is like to be truly insane over ship I sympathise with everyone now. Truly. It is Faralda and Mirabelle Ervine.

There's a fanfic called 'snowberry tea' that brought the light into my eyes about them, it's just fantastic I highly recommend both the fic and the ship itself it's just wonderful.

Thank you for posting miraculous things about silly skyrim characters, forever the inspiration, forever sparkle on and continue illuminating the real truthers out there

wearing my th*lmor costume and a shirt that says I ❤ ELENWEN on top of it holding glowsticks, people avoid me and my acquaintances make it seem like i'm a stranger but i'm still on the hypeman grind 4 her...... && dat seems interesting 😼 i actually love the college winterhawld, i put off playing it on my first run for a long time cus i almost never used magic so i didn't see a point of even playing that quest LOL but i actually enjoyed it, everyone there is cute.. all of the girls especially (n*rya is my Fav) ((the average sk*rim fan dgaf about the girls there they just wanna see anc*no Doodooslop Fugly Bozo ass). i see how they would work 💗 tired of seeing male on male elf action bring in the women bro

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Yayyy!

I have so many ideas!

Like, imagine a midnight zone siren. Like, they’ll have bioluminescent parttens on their skin to attract pray, and may have bad eye-sight but great sense of smell.

It’s 12am…. I shouldn’t be awake.

🌂

That would be so cool! Honestly, imagine they just light up like a glowstick whenever they need to see in the dark, and they accidentally run into the platonic yans that way. They'd be so shocked to see a little glowy mer or siren pup! Especially if Reader has a tail similar to squid or jellyfish tentacles... They'd just be chasing some small squid, hoping to catch a meal, lighting up their scales/tentacles/lights, and surprise, there's a whole other mer or siren right there... And they're just as surprised as Reader...

(If you want to ask any questions or send in a request or two, feel free to do so! Just mention which platonic yan or yans you want, and if Reader is a mer or siren or human!)

[ballcrusher74]

Your sona (bigform) looks very cool, reminds me of the silhouette of a dinosaur, what is the critter and what inspired such a cool mech tang?

OK. RAMBLE TIME

My sona (Jawbreaker) is a fucked up star alien thing ! You're gonna get a little more than just what he is and inspirations and I hope you don't mind, I made a whole fucking species just for this guy's backstory LOL Stellarites are shapeshifting, celestial beings created with star energy. Their strength varies, depending on what kind of star their energy was sourced from. Jawbreaker (his actually birth name is unknown and he forgot himself) was created with the energy of a quasi star as an experiment for his overlord, Metsu. He served in their celestial empire as a royal guard, and had a close eye kept on him. He excelled compared to his peers, and was deemed spectacular at his work- the only downside was his short temper. He was constantly consulted about his attitude, and it only seemed to grow worse. He grows disobedient, to the point where he is sentenced to be shattered for his resources to be recycled. He escapes from his home planet, landing on Earth. He examines life from afar, and takes on a more humanoid form. As he lives out his days on his new home, there's something that he can't avoid now- taxes. So what's a better job to get when you used to be a guard for an intergalactic ruler? Become a hitman! This is where he obtained his helmet and his name. A couple years go by and he's considered a perfect killing machine, being able to leave such little trails behind in his work. Then, he fucks up one day. A single drop of his blood is found at a scene. This results in a huge chase for him, especially because he is extraterrestrial life. He eventually is caught, and used in government experiments. These experiments were based off the mega-structure, dyson spheres, in which they tried to extract energy out of him. He manages to escape this, takes on his current form with a repainted helmet and fresh new look, and is now a party-animal alien out on the run with a bounty on his head. (This is like, a really watered down version of his story cus if I put the whole thing here that shit would go on forever)

Also y'know what, fuck it, here's the full ref sheet + cool guitar item that I keep forgetting I have OOPS

Going onto actually inspirations now, here's a couple !

The general design was just based off of character design aspects that I like a lot. Chunky shoes, shoulder pads, big sleeves, huge zipper- etc, etc.

The hoodie and boxers combo just comes from the fact that that is typically what I roam around in

The star eye was me trying to recycle from my old sona, but the true origin of it was it being a reference to one of my favorite musicians at the time, Grandson ^_^

The half heart locket is for my boyfriend <3

The big ol' eyebrow is just cus I have bushy eyebrows + I love big ass eyebrows

I'm gonna be honest, the hair was when I was trying to make my sona on Roblox but I obviously couldn't have my helmet, so a red base and cyan trihawk came along and it's stuck since then + I FUCKING LOVE MOHAWKS SO BAD

The blood is based off of glowstick liquid . Please trust me when I say to not eat glowsticks they do not taste good .

The colors are also kinda recycled from my old sona, but also because I fucking love red and cyan

The whole alien aspect is taken from the fact my birthday is on the same day as the Area 51 raid LMAO

Exaggerated proportions kinda came from FNF . yeag

THE HELMET . The helmet was a thing I scrapped from a really old oc of mine, which was kinda taken from Jasper (SU) . The addition for the jaw part was inspired by a bear trap

also these two that I use for this blog . They're obviously more jokey looking + I made it so they are both immortal beings that have existed since the dawn of time that just fuck around on Earth but yea it's also just me . but funny looking

I think that is it . yeag

[thinkingotherwise]

Requested by: @dokuhime20120 Osuke Akiyama attends Furin but doesn't actually fight, he does the moral support, and he's the medic boy who goes around the city to check on the Furin students who are on the patrols. If the students need support or to be bandaged up Osuke has a big bag with many medical tools. And if one of the Furin kids is really hurt, he can carry them with ease back to school. Even though his height is 160 cm, he's really strong and can even carry Taiga. He has an infirmary room to take care of students there. He is actually a third year and he usually wears a mask. He is a sweet and gentle boy. His eyes seem like they are closed. When opened, his eyes are a bit blue with pink flower pupils and he has long curly tie-up bun hair. When opened his eyes turn soft. And the request: Kyotaro has a crush on him and soon confesses. He treats Umemiya & Hiiragi as best friends and Tsubakino as well. Shizuka, Tsubakino, and Osuke sometimes go to karaoke or buy some desserts. He carries a speaker and has some pink glowing sticks that they all play with. Osuke loves all Furin students and thinks of them as his second family.

Kyotaro Sugishita x OMC

Kyotaro having a soft spot for the Bofurin's Medic boy

The Bofurin students would have so much more problems to take care of if not for their senpai. Osuke Akiyama was a third year who took the role of a moral support and nurse rather than an actual fighter. So whenever someone got in a fight and ended with more than a few bruises he knew he could always come back to school and to the little room where Osuke would be. The classroom, although not really a nurse's office, was called that by everyone. It had every necessary item for the first aid someone could think of.

Osuke was very friendly and got along well with others. He even visited Tsubakino at their part-time job and met Shizuka. They became such good friends that they spent part of the evening at karaoke, singing their hearts out.

One evening, after finishing his duties at school, Osuke stood at the entrance, waiting for Tsubakino. He quickly spotted Sugishita near the main doors. "Kyotaro, you're still here?" He greeted the younger student with a smile as his voice got the younger student's attention. "Mhm." Sugishita confirmed quickly turning to face the older boy. His expression was unreadable, but there was a slight shift in his posture, just because of who was near him. "Are you doing anything now?" Osuke asked. He adjusted the mask on his face before stepping closer. "How about some karaoke?" He smiled with his eyes encouragingly knowing that Sugishita couldn't say no to him. Perhaps it was the fact that Osuke was his senior, but deep down, Sugishita knew it was more than that—he had a soft spot for him. "Come on, you should come with us tonight," Osuke repeated, his voice laced with kindness and warmth. With a reluctant sigh, Kyotaro finally agreed to join Osuke, Tsubakino, and their friend.

The evening unfolded in a light-hearted atmosphere. They spent the time eating sweets and goofing around. While Tsubakino sang another song, the other third-year searched through his bag and pulled out a handful of glowsticks, handing them out with a grin. He cheered his friend on throughout the song, and later, they all played with the glowsticks while Kyotaro quietly observed his senior. "Go, Tsubakino!" Osuke cheered, waving his glowstick high. His enthusiasm was contagious as Shizuka joined in, laughing and playing with the glowsticks, while Sugishita quietly observed them.

Sugishita almost made it through the entire night without picking up the mic. Almost. The moment Tsubakino caught sight of him standing there, their mischievous smile appeared. "Hey, Kyotaro! How about a song?" they asked, his tone teasing. Sugishita hesitated, his usual cool demeanor slipping for just a moment as he glanced at Osuke, who stood by with an expectant look in his eyes. "Come on, just one song." The older boy encouraged, his voice gentle but persuasive. "I'll sing with you." It didn't take much more than that for Sugishita to cave. With a reluctant sigh, he agreed. Of course, Osuke didn’t hesitate. The two of them took the mic, and the duet began. Osuke was the only one who could get Sugishita to sing, and Tsubakino soon took full advantage of this. They would bribe Sugishita to join everyone by promising that a certain medic boy would be there as well.

Osuke not only spent his time playing around or at school. When not in Furin, he could often be found roaming the streets of the city, his eyes scanning for anyone in need of assistance. His impromptu patrols were driven by a quiet sense of duty—finding both students and civilians who needed help, offering aid on the spot, and ensuring they could make it back home or to school safely.

One afternoon, as he walked through the bustling streets, his gaze landed on a large group of first-year students, all wearing the familiar Furin uniforms. Their faces were battered, bruised, and streaked with dried blood. Without a second thought, Osuke rushed toward them, his voice urgent. "What happened? Is everyone alright?" His eyes quickly moved over their faces, noting the bruises already beginning to appear on their skin. His eyes moved through each of the first-years staying a little longer on Sugishita and making sure nothing happened to him. "Ah, Akiyama. We're good now." Nirei replied with a nervous laugh, downplaying the situation to avoid worrying the older boy. "Only some bruises nothing to worry about." Another student added and Osuke sighed deeply.

Without a word, he took off his backpack and pushed it into Taiga's hands making his legs buckle a little under the weight. The bag was surprisingly heavier than it looked. Seeing as the younger boy had some trouble Osuke took the bag in one hand and placed it on the ground before squatting down and searching through, unaware of the admiring glance the first year sent him when he observed how easily he handled the bag. "Aha, got it!" When he finally found what he was looking for, a small circle of students gathered around him, curious about the contents of the bag. Then they saw the big bag of gauze bandages and a bottle of rubbing alcohol and let out a chorus of complaints and whines. They were already dreading the sting that was sure to follow.

Soon Osuke moved from student to student with practiced care, gently cleaning each wound before applying bandages or small bandaids. He was used to it, his focus was unwavering, and hands steady as he tended to every scrape and bruise. All the time Sugishita stood by him and handed over all the necessities, glaring at a few students who dared to be a little too loud in their whimpering or too fidgeting.

After making sure every first-year student was taken care of, Kyotaro decided to walk Osuke home. It was a quiet evening, and the streets were calm as they strolled side by side, chatting casually about their day. Before long, Osuke's house appeared ahead. Just as they approached the door, Kyotaro hesitated for a moment, his usual composed demeanor faltering. "Osuke," he began, his voice softer than usual, "I just wanted to say thank you..." The third year turned to him, offering a warm smile, but before he could respond, Kyotaro continued. "I like you." He confessed, his face flushing slightly as he looked down. "I like it when you take care of me, and when we spend time together."

Osuke’s eyes widened in surprise. It seemed like the longest thing he heard from Sugishita, as well as touching. His face quickly warmed as he processed Kyotaro’s words. There was a soft, almost imperceptible blush spreading across his cheeks. His eyes slowly opened, soft and kind. "I care about you deeply." Osuke said gently, his voice steady. "I like spending time with you too. More than you might think." Kyotaro felt relieved and happiness flickered in his eyes. "Thanks, Osuke." He said trying to stay composed. Then Sugishita took another breath and added. "I’ll come tomorrow morning to walk with you to school." "I'll be looking forward to it." A soft smile bloomed on Osuke's face. With a final wave, Kyotaro went on his way home, while the older boy turned to the doorway, his heart fluttering a little faster than usual.

[tredispade]

[ TRAPPED ] :  for  our  muses  to  be  trapped  somewhere  together  ( stuck  in  a  storm ?  kidnapped  together ?  dodgy  lock  on  a  door ? )  for angeal !

first meeting prompts || @sephaeroth

The storm was sudden and quick, dropping heavy cold rain over the forest the pair had been walking. Even as they escaped into a conveniently close cave within minutes of the rain, they were still soaked to the core.

Angeal's wet hair hung over his young face. with a laugh, he pushed it back. His eyes bright with his amusement as he looked over at Sephiroth. Surely even this was at least a little funny to the aggravating boy.

"Well that was a little unexpected. I rather like my showers hot and steamy."

As he spoke, he started to partially undress. Taking off his soaked jacket and shirt off. Laying it out over a dry part of the cave floor. His pants, thankfully, were dry enough to keep on. Then he lay out his swords next to his clothes. Thankfully the cave was deep enough that he had the room for it, even as the rain pooled and streamed by the open mouth.

He peered up at Sephiroth from where he was sitting. "You should take the wet clothes off anyway, lest you catch a chill that's colder than your attitude."

They've been traveling together for only a few days since first meeting. And he still couldn't seem to warm up the grumpy silver-haired boy. But it didn't stop him from trying and nettling him.

Angeal then shifted to sit cross-legged as he pulled out a glowstick from his pocket. He snapped it, filling the dark cavern with cool pale green light. He couldn't really set a fire, but at least they could have light.

Angeal peered out at the rain with a look of contemplation. "Poor Bachman. Hopefully he found somewhere dry. I'd hate for him to lose his camera to the water damage."

[fanfictiongirlie]

Marvel: Honey, Superheroes Don't Exist Where I Come From - Chapter Two

Parings: Unsure x First Person Reader

Description: Y/N wakes up, and Bruce Banner is standing there, but wait, he is from a movie.. She falls into the universe of Marvel, and needs to work out how to get home.. but does she wanna go home?

Rating: Unrated for the moment.

Warnings: Swearing, Alternate Universes - Everyone lives, Maybe eventual smut?

Words: Currently 2,248

Okay, so this is a fic I started writing in 2020. And I wrote three chapters for it, and that's it, I lost interest, but I don't wanna lost interest in things I write. So I thought I'd post it, see what people think, and maybe get some motivation to continue writing it. It's a weird idea, and I'm not sure if I want my main character to end with Loki or Bucky. (Maybe I could do a poll) Also, maybe I could challenge myself and write for a different character. Like Thor or something. I just don't know. I think this is such a cool idea for a fic, and I'm just stumped xD

Nat had brought me some clothes, luckily something comfortable; a pair of black leggings and a plain blue tank top. The only thing she didn't bring were shoes, I had to walk around bare footed. 

Dr Banner came back to unhook me from the machines and made sure I was healthy and wouldn't pass out.��

And then the tour began, Nat wanted to show me around, make sure I didn't get lost. 

She had showed me the entire grounds, there was a field dedicated to each kind of sport, and a huge outdoor swimming pool and an indoor one. 

"And this is the kitchen" She smiled, I followed and looked around, Vison and Wanda were in here, cooking together, smiling. It made me smile, I had always liked their relationship. 

The kitchen was connected to the living room, and there were a lot more people in that room. I suddenly felt nervous. I recognised all of them of course. 

Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Thor... Nat walked over and sat with them on the massive couch. I nervously waited in the doorway, until Steve stood up and walked over to me. 

He was giant, I didn't even come up to his shoulders, he could probably snap me like a glowstick. 

He smiled widely and held out his hand, I took it and shook it gingerly. 

"Tony explained the situation" He smiled, motioning for me to follow him. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, I had always dreamed of something like this, or read about it in fanfictions. But this was unreal. 

I sat on the opposite couch, and looked up, seeing everyone's eyes on me like I had thought. Except Bucky, he was looking at his hands in his lap. My heart fluttered when I saw him. 

He then looked up, and our eyes met.. And when they did, a memory floated back into my memory. My bedroom at home, it was covered in posters of Sebastian Stan and most of them were posters of Bucky. I suddenly felt my cheeks redden. 

"So none of us are real?" Steve suddenly asked, I tore my eyes away from Bucky's to answer Steve.

"Yes, there are hundreds of comics and a bunch of movies dedicated to you all, nearly all of you" I whisper. 

"So you know everything about us?" Natasha asked.

"I wouldn't say everything, I know a lot though" I blushed, I loved the Marvel movies, I knew a lot. Maybe everything. 

"Like what?" Steve asked. 

"Erm, When are we?" I asked, feeling stupid, but I didn't know the rules, if I told them about things that hadn't happened would it mess everything up?

"Has New York happened? Or Thanos?" I asked. 

"Yes, Thanos tried to snap everyone out of existence but we stopped him, luckily Loki turned good just before Thanos attacked New York" Thor explained. 

That confused me, it didn't happen like that in the movies. 

"I know the basics" I smile, feeling awkward. I wanted to be alone now. 

Luckily, Tony, my saviour walked into the room with a key. 

"Y/N your room is ready" 

I smiled and jumped up, I followed him through the compound until we reached a room. There was a little sign on the door that said my name. 

"Thank you Mr Stark" I smiled " You could of just left me on the streets" 

He chuckled and handed me the key. 

"Pepper would of probably killed me" He smiled and left. 

I opened the door and walked in, the room was huge, I was shocked. There was a king sized bed by the window and the room had a sitting area with a television, which was bigger than I thought a tv could ever be. There was even a little kitchen area. 

I smiled to myself and shut the door behind me, there was a massive bookcase, which peaked my interest. I walked over, grabbing a book and settling myself onto the couch, and got stuck in. 

[glammerqueen]

Ello, I'm Piper Mclean, daughter of Aphrodite, counseller of the Aphrodite cabin, and official beauty Queen

Here are some of my friends!

Leo Valdez - @r3pair-b0y - he' a dork. But he's also a very funny guy and I probaly would've have been able to do half th things of done withought him by my side, I wish luck with the ladies Leo! #alldaladiesloveleo

Will Solace - @your-local-glowstick- Oh my God's he's such a pretty boy! he NEEDS to stop by the Aphrodite cabin so we can take a better look at him, even Drew agree's! He is currently dating Nico Di Angelo, the guy is kinda scary and looks more traumatized then ever-but I think Will helps him through it. western boy to the bone.

Nico Di Angelo- @Victory-of-the-angels - I think he could have really good style if he was open to modernizing it! He def needs a haircut but whatever, let your dead ends rule. Dating Will Solace, which I think is helping with his own mental health, because Gods does Nico look like he needs trauma bonding, poor boy walked through Tartarus and back ALONE, and then so much more. I hope you feel better Ghost king (get. your. edges. TRIMMED.)

Hazel Levesque -no roleplayer yet- she's adorable! like actually so adorable! She's also so sweet, and that add's on to the cuteness, Frank, you are so lucky to have such an amazing girl! Hazel's eyes make me think of like- bronze gold, the blood of the gods or somthing!

Frank Zhang -no roleplayer yet- at first it was he was a little intimidating, but he's like a shy bear really. I think that its really cool he got suck adorable power's, yet again intimidating.

Annabeth Chase - @Annie-beth - gorgeous. Percues Jackson if you break my girls heart I will literally break everyone in your body. Best blonde ever! very od friend but sometimes I feel dump next to her, and it makes me feel small. I think the fact she continues to push herself and be apart of the team is amazing considering she's the only one with out powers and brains alone! definition of girl power!

Percy Jackson -no roleplayer yet- I think your cute, but not my type personaly. you need to teach Leo you way's. you dont need me to tell you beauty tips, every girl already has. Perce you are pretty awsome though, your a very good friend, always ready to help or be there.

Jason Grace -@lightning-boi-superman- thing's are tense sometimes, but I still think your amazing, you and Leo are still ;friends; which makes me happy, your a VERY great guy, your ready to lead with burning passion, and I admire that.

Reyna Avilla Arellone -no roleplayer yet- sorry for taking your man once, that was my bad girlie!! I think you are a very respectable leader, you put the power in to girl power, and your ability to stand so long when things try to bring you down amazes me!!