#Computer Lab Assistant

[jobsnotices]

New KMC School Job Vacancy 2023 for Teachers, Staff

New KMC School Job Vacancy 2023 for Teachers, Staff, English, Social Studies, Maths, Science, Nepali, Computer Teachers, Life Skills and Soft Skills Instructors, Science Lab Assistant, Grade Teachers/ Assistant Teachers, Sports, Music, Dance & Arts/ Crafts Teachers, Computer Lab Assistant, ECA/ CCA Coordinator, School Counselor, Hostel Warden – Girls/Boys, Admin Officer, Teaching Jobs, School…

[lorillee]

well at least nobody can say it was for lack of trying because after getting really mad about it again i went through and tracked down all these stupid worthless things ive applied to and there is an absolute minimum of 45 internships i have applied to.

[briannas-casebook]

MAKING OF: 3D PRINTING AND FABRICATION.

During week 5 of the second semester of my Making Of class, we were given a tour of the New Adelphi campus's 3D printing workshop. Here we were not only given examples of what could be created in the Fab Lab, such as stop-motion armature heads, film props, and maquettes, but we also learned several tips and tricks in CAD design (as seen above).

I enjoyed this brief tour around the Fabrication Lab. It gave me a lot of creative inspiration and inspired me to want to learn more about the software and printing process. This is something I will seek to do as soon as possible - either through the Lab or in a 3D printing course. Being conversant with this technology would be incredibly useful in my work - especially for stop-motion and the professional results that can be achieved with 3D printing really excites me.

[satorena]

taking nerdjo’s glasses while you’re riding 🥸

cw. 18+. semi public sex. sub undertones. breeding kink.

“—ohhhh fuckkkkk,”

he doesn’t understand it— any of it. he doesn’t understand how he, of all people, managed to get you. the it girl on campus— with pretty hairstyles and cutesy nails, flocks of both girls and boys crawling after you for the slightest bit of your attention, is somehow interested in the least known guy around— the lanky, socially awkward physics teacher assistant with fading digimon stickers glued to the back of his worn down computer.

gojo assumes he’s experiencing one hell of a good dream. that’s the only way to explain the insatiable feeling of wet heat enveloping his aching dick. it’s the only way to explain the pornographic sounds of skin slapping echoing in this empty library. it’s the only way to explain why his balls are begging for release with each grind of needy hips rocking against his own.

he doesn’t want to wake up. he feels the cheap fabric of carpet beneath his fingernails from digging them into the floor. his knuckles are turning white from how hard he’s clenching. there’s an abnormal tightening of a knot in his guts begging to be snapped. he can feel beads of sweat forming at his hairline and his foggy glasses are slipping past his nose bridge uncomfortably—

but he doesn’t want to wake up.

planted on the heels of whatever latest trendy shoes you own, you’re riding his cock as if he were your lifeline. god you feel divine— your folds swallowing him into your cunt with such ease and precision, walls clenching down the moment he’s balls deep. he can feel your acrylics scratching at his undercut with one hand while the other holds your body steady down his thigh.

gojo doesn’t think he’s breathing, and frankly, isn’t sure if he wants to. you’re reckless— moaning freely in the emptiness of the establishment and right into the shell of his ear as if your birthright, careless of the thuds of heavy textbooks hitting the floor. there’s a crease in your brows and your jaw hangs slack, glossy lips parted as they release the hymns of your cries,

“—so deep, can feel you in my stomach!”

your tits bounce in clockwise motions. you’d freed yourself from your top sometime between the flirting behind bookshelves and his pikachu drawls dropping down to the floor. the sound of your pussy squelching with every bounce is a memory he wouldn’t forget even on his death bed— cunt so wet he can hardly feel his own dick in you.

the pad of your thumb grazes his bottom lip, and you lean forward to catch it between yours. he’s frozen stiff— the slip of your tongue in his mouth, your overwhelming sweetness invading his senses. he’s moaning pathetically, growing some security in the muffled sounds, so overstimulated by this insatiable pleasure that his arms start to feel weak.

your tongue swipes at his lips before nibbling on the flesh, “—taste so good,” he feels your lips mouthing against his own, and wishes he was able to focus for a split second on what you told him, but the ache in balls are a telltale that this euphoric dream is drawing to an end.

he squints his eyes shut. he tries to focus on the latest chapter of his latest obsession manga and theories he’s conspired. he recalls the sneak of his wrinkly old professor’s ass crack from his early lecture. he thinks back on this auction he’s seen online for retro limited edition video games. did he ever end up submitting that biochem lab assignment due—

“gojo.”

he snaps his eyes open. he didn’t realize he’d clenched his entire facial muscles until the moment he was able to see you again— only releasing those muscles feeling tightness in his cheeks (amongst other places)(read: his cock).

you’ve slowed down your pace. you’ve switched your movements from bounces to grinding. he can feel his tip prodding at your gummy walls. your breath fans his cupid’s bow and he’s only now noticing how close in proximity you both are. he can feel your heartbeat against his chest, and he’s positive you can feel his stomach clenching against your own.

he begins to feel more of your body weight on his, a feeling he definitely wants to get accustomed to, as you shift from your feet to your knees. your hand on his thigh trails upwards past his trail of hair, sliding up past the ridges of his abs, over the planes of his chest and meet at his nape with its other duo. there’s an aroma of vanilla and cherries exuding off you—

heisenburg’s uncertainty principle. star wars mandalorian culture. the roswell ufo incident. fucking neon genesis evangelion’s a cruel angel’s thesis—

“you don’t like me?” you ask him, all doey eyed like. it doesn’t sound like a legitimate question, but his ‘huh’ does draw more into a whine when you intentionally clamp down on his dick. he doesn’t miss the mischievous glint in your eyes.

gojo bites down on his lower lip, fiddling with a loose thread on the carpet. his body releases a shudder at the chills creeping up his spine when you trace a finger down the slope of his neck, “w-what?” he asks weakly, huffing as his toes curl in his socks.

this time, you cock your head just barely to the side, and he watches your gaze trail from his lips to his eyes and back to his lips. despite the agonizingly slow pace, you never stop riding him. his cock is still graced by your warmth, still snatching his soul through his slit. your lashes bat twice before glancing back up at his eyes.

“you don’t like me.” you’re not asking this time, your tone dripping in seduction and like a fool, finds himself swayed. you’re teasing him— he can see it in the way the corner of your lips quirk into your infamous smile. you’ve got him wrapped all around your pretty finger— he knows it and you definitely know it.

as if he was anybody to not like you. your ass cheeks clench when you drive your body forward, gripping on his cock so tight he can feel the wind knocked out his lungs, “no! are you, ngh, crazy— of course i do—”

“because i like you.” it falls short of a whisper, but the vibrations of your words against his lips shoot right to his heart and balls, and he knows his blotchy cheeks are now flushed red for an entirely different reason.

he answers faster than his mind can process, his stomach jumping with butterflies and an oncoming orgasm. your eyes won’t leave his— like a deceiving siren baring deep into his soul and rendering him vulnerable before consuming his entire being. not too far from his reality, hips bucking upwards as desperately as possible to emphasize his immediate answer, “i like you too—”

“you won’t look at me,” gojo hadn’t realized he shied away from your gaze, pouring his entire focus on not spilling both his heart and cum right into you, “talk to me.”

“i-it’s just, um,” he tries to flick his eyes back onto yours, but you’re still staring so intensely behind siren eyes and still rocking your hips. your fluids drip past your cunt and down his sack, before staining the carpet, “i’m a—mmph, nobody and you’re— well, you’re you,” he feels a hot tongue glide over the accumulated sweat on his neck and humps up again, “y’re just so pretty and every time i look at you i get the urge to c-cum but,” your teeth sink into his jugular before nibbling and he whines, throwing his head back, “i want— need you to cum first. . .”

there’s a beat of silence for a while. you’ve even halted your grinding altogether. he prays to god he didn’t mess up the one good thing that’s happened to him in all his twenty one years of living. you’ve even popped his now bruised skin from your lips— hovering right over the mark you left on him. pleasure licks at his limbs feverishly, back arching in hopes to dig even deeper (if possible) in your pussy.

you pull away from his neck and the tip of your nose is back to grazing his own. your usually styled hair is now a mess, your skin dampening from moisture and your lip gloss now swapped for your and his saliva— your overall classic, picture perfect image completely abandoned,

and he doesn’t think you’ve looked any prettier.

“so,” you draw out, freeing a hand from his locks to graze over the throbbing love bite at his neck. gojo sniffs, pushing his foggy glasses back up on his bridge with the back of his hand, and you caress the throbbing flesh, “the problem is when you look huh. . .?”

his neck is suddenly released from blissful torture and he feels his frames coming off his face from no effort of his own. his vision slowly fades and his pupils dilate to accommodate to his now poor quality of sight, “what are you—”

and his breath hitches. he can only make out your shape through your sinful curves but there’s no mistake from your silhouette— your hands, now holding his glasses hostage, press at his chest, “trust me,” you apply firm pressure from your palms to his upper body, and he feels himself sinking into the floor, back meeting the dirty carpet.

trust you? he’d lay his life on the line for a woman like you.

his fingers spread as his palms face the sky, and his breath staggered. the bookshelves, windows and study rooms are all blurry as fuck— which is both off putting and extremely risky since library hours were still valid at this time, but despite it all, it felt as if he could see you clear as day. gojo would usually never put his academics on the line, but he couldn’t deny the thrill of possibly getting caught having sex with the finest girl in school in a public library had his cock twitching incessantly.

god, he is just so happy to be here.

your fingers slide his glasses atop your nose bridge, and your cheeks split into a cheeky smile, hips beginning to roll back into their previous tempo. he feels your hands grabbing his own, before resting them at your hips. he’s a greedy man, and since the opportunity may only come once in his lifetime, he slides his hands further to your ass., and with a gulp, grabs the flesh greedily. damn— it hardly fits in his palms.

there’s a symphony of moans coming from you both when you lift your hips up, and it’s downright disgusting how turned on he gets at your essence trickling down his shaft and past his balls. your pussy lips drool and latch onto his tip tightly, before entirely releasing him and slipping your hand between your thighs. you kneed his nuts, fondling the testicles between your digits expertly and his back arches off the floor, “shouldn’t be an issue anymore, yeah?” you hum.

“y-yeah— oh god, yes,” gojo nods dumbly, toes curling in his socks as you proceed to stroke his cock. his tip is weeping in pre cum blended with your own wetness, and the faster you flick your wrist, the tighter his stomach contracts. he’s lasted quite some time now, considering this being his first time and all, but there’s only so much a man can hold back. his fingernails dig crescent moon shapes into the mounds of your ass as his hips chase after your touch with every stroke. “w-wait, fuck, i’m gonna cum—”

“yeah?” you encourage him, hunching just over his weeping dick, still holding him at his base. you drag his tip in between your lips, back and forth, while your other hand feels him up at his abs. “where do you wanna finish? on my face?” he whines, mindlessly humping and your smirk deepens as you slowly sink down, “on my tits?” gojo shakes his head, and feels drool coming from the corner of his lips. his limbs are on fire and his groin feels like it’s on the verge of explosion, “on my ass?” you’re about halfway down, “or. . . inside?”

“please,” he doesn’t care if he’s begging. snowy lashes bat open as his teary unfocused eyes adjust to the dimmed lights. even your silhouette is sexy, “please lemme cum inside, i-i’ll do anything.”

“hmm, anything?” you purr, knees finally hitting the floor as you straddle him once more. he lets out a guttural groan at the familiar feel of your silky walls entrapping his cock. his mind is fucking hazy and despite never having consuming alcohol, he feels drunk.

“yes,” he pleads, rolling his hips impossibly deeper into you, euphoric pleasure shooting in his bloodstream, “a-anything you want, i swear,” at the sudden intrusion, you let out a loud gasp when his tip bumps into your cervix and drop your body forward, arms giving out.

chest to chest, skin to skin, your lips hover over his as your back dips into an arch, forcing a penetration deeper in your guts. your palms are pressed flat onto the floor at the side of his head, and he can make out his glasses sitting lazily on the ball of your nose. he slides his hands up your sides, kneading at every inch of your flesh, before sliding back down to your ass.

“even my homework? assignments?” you tease breathily, a strangled moan ripping out your throat when his knees push up and fucks into you. your body jerks forward as his feet plant to the floor, hands still gripping on your ass.

when he snaps his hips up, you roll yours down, and the matching intensity sends his brain haywire. he’s desperate for release, forcing your hips down as he nudges his cock languidly into your cunt. his jaw falls slack and he nods again, dumbly, “ngh, for the rest of the s-school year,”

“that easy with you?” you giggle, but is easily interrupted when he leans forward to catch your lips in a messy kiss. there’s a shit ton of saliva involved, some even escapes past your mouths and down your jaws, but he couldn’t care any less—you tasted heavenly. he wishes he had the time to eat your pussy, he’s positive you taste holier down there.

“it’s your world.” gojo moans, snaking his hands from your ass to wrap around your upper body. now caught in his embrace, you let your head fall limply into the crook of his neck as he works his dick in and out of you. he means what he said— it is your world, and he’s nothing more than a happy servant. “i’ll do it all— bring your books to class, rub your feet— i’ll bark if you need me to— just, please, please, please let me cum inside.”

your moans vibrating from his neck run straight to his ears and fuels him further. he’s thrusting relentlessly— there’s no set pace at all, and he’s so close to finishing he’s completely forgotten about wanting you to cum first. he finally understands why everybody obsesses over sex— he never wants to let you go.

your head pushes up from his neck, nosing at his jaw. he feels your hands cradling his hair, and your lips pressing kisses at the corner of his mouth. his heart skips a beat— he revels in the attention you’re giving him, even if it’s just for the moment. he knows he won’t ever be this lucky again, so he might as well enjoy the ride while he’s here.

“you wanna breed my pussy?” you bite your lip, each stroke in your cunt jerking the glasses down the slope of your nose. despite the dense flog clouding the lens, he can feel your eyes on him. he nods desperately, tightening his hold on you, and the new angle has your clit dragging against his pelvis, “mmph— okay, yeah — put a baby in me, freak.”

and so he does. he thrusts as spurts of cum shoots inside your womb. his balls tighten as his hips rut, arms clutching onto your body with every fibre in him. you smell good, feel good, look good— and your cunt milks him dry for whatever he’s worth.

his orgasm feels short of an eternity yet simultaneously a second, his soul having transcended into an outwardly dimension. and it’s only when you scoot your ass upwards, sliding a hand between both warm bodies, that you collect his cum on the pad of your fingers. he blinks hazily, zeroing his focus when he sees you pop your fingers into your mouth.

“mhm,” you hum at the taste. he’s panting heavily, body riding a euphoric high he’s yet to come down from. you don’t seem to mind, leaning forward to catch his lips once again. and he lets you, moaning at the taste of himself on your tongue. when you pull away, there’s a thin string of cum induced saliva pulling at your lips. “‘s my world, right? want my pussy in your mouth.”

and he instantly hardens.

[pathologicalreid]

litmus test | s.r.

in which Spencer needs your expertise to help solve a murder, but crime fighting is most decidedly not for you

find more chemist!reader here!

who? spencer reid x chemist!reader category: flangst (like. the end is a little angsty and it has case details) content warnings: typical cm violence, science talk, fem!reader, reader is not built for crime, morgan being an older brother, some fun banter!! death by firework is crazy lmao word count: 1.68k a/n: this is one of my favorite fluff pieces i've written in agessss i missed chemist!reader so much i learn so many things when i'm writing her. this was a request! i hope you like it as much as i do!!

“Do you have a second?” Spencer asks, his voice slightly choppy over the phone. Between his ancient phone and being inside concrete police precincts, some disconnect was bound to happen.

Saving your document to your computer, you rest the lab phone between your shoulder and ear, “If you’re asking me if I have any corrosive chemicals in my hands, the answer is no.”

He chuckles lightly, “I never know with you.”

You roll your eyes in response, even if he can’t see you, “It was one time and I needed a new phone case anyway.”

“You fused the plastic of your phone case to the material of your phone,” he retorts far too quickly for your liking.

“Yes,” you acquiesce, “but I know the exact chemical reaction that caused that phenomenon.” You cross your legs one over the other, maintaining your balance on your lab stool as you speak to Spencer over the phone.

He gave a light hum in response, “Speaking of chemical reactions – I need your help.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You’re asking me for help in chemistry?” There really was a first time for everything, you suppose.

Spencer was more than capable of navigating a lab on his own, even so, he admits, “You have more applied practice than I do.”

Pursing your lips, you nod to yourself, “Fair enough. What’s stumping you, Dr. Reid?” Your inquiry, while innocent enough, garners a wolf whistle from your graduate assistant.

“There’s something burning a hole in these bones, and I’m not sure what would be causing it to happen this fast,” he explains, giving you minor background information on how long the bones were out and if the medical examiner had treated them with something.

You clear your throat, frowning at the notes you had scrawled down in front of you, “Burning or corroding?” What was seemingly a meaningless distinction would actually allow you to filter through approximately half of the possibilities.

“Corroding,” he corrects himself, “My mistake.”

Crossing off some of your notes, you purse your lips at the new possibilities, “No worries. Did you try flushing it out with water?”

You hear papers flipping on his end of the call before you get a response, “That would destroy evidence.”

“Well,” you raise your eyebrows, “It sounds like your evidence is destroying itself.”

“Baby,” Spencer says in a no-nonsense tone reserved for when he was deep in a case. You could’ve sworn you heard Morgan in the background of the call mocking him for the pet name.

Turning back to your notes, you sigh, “Yeah, yeah, all work and no play. Was the body buried?”

“Partially,” his reply intrigues you, “I can have Garcia send you the crime scene photos if you think it’ll help.”

Wrinkling your nose at the thought, you made an unsure sound, “Right, because nothing says lunchtime like getting up close and personal with a homicide victim.”

“What lunchtime? It’s three pm in D.C. right now,” he caught you, a slight chiding tone in his words.

Ignoring his questions, you ask more of your own, “Was the body near water? Did they test the pH of the soil and water?”

There were more papers flipping, likely someone presenting the results of those tests to him, “Yeah, the soil was a five-point two and the water was a seven-point eight,” he listed off for you.

While your knowledge of the pH of the soil in Iowa was limited, you did know that those levels were pretty on par for the northern Mississippi River. “O-kay,” you say, extending your vowels, “and they didn’t find anything else on the scene that points to corrosive materials. Hydrofluoric acid?” You posit, “No, you know what – maybe you should send me those files. My work email is encrypted, you can give it to Penelope.”

He speaks to someone else in the room with him and you resist the urge to ask him if he’s enjoying Iowa, “It’s sent,” he confirms with you.

Pulling up your email only takes a moment, and once you get over the initial shock of seeing a dead body on your computer screen, you lift your lab glasses to the top of your head in order to get a better look. “I mean,” you think for a moment, “those look like alkali burns to me. I’ve never seen them on bones before, but you should do a litmus test to check either way.”

“So, we rinse it with water?” He asks, seeking instruction from you in a way that makes you feel oddly powerful.

Your eyes widen, “No, no, no. If it’s a metal compound then it’ll be covered in a mineral oil, so rinsing it with water would actually make the burn worse.”

Pausing for a moment, you consider the possibility that Spencer didn’t have the luxury of time – he was trying to solve a murder, not do experiments in a lab.

“Alkali burns can be serious, it all depends on what caused them, and most are helped by rinsing with water. So, unless you have the time to test for metal compounds, I’d go ahead and rinse it. You might want to brush the damage to the bones with a dry brush first. If there’s lime on the bones it’ll foam, which not only will corrode the bones even further but it might release a toxic gas,” you have no idea how the corrosion would interact with bone marrow, but something tell you that you don’t want to know

“Wait a minute,” Derek interjects, being included in the conversation now that Spencer put the call on speaker, “I thought things like alkaline water were good for you.”

You scoff instinctively, “Oh, there’s no definitive evidence that shows alkaline water as having any real health benefits. Especially not the benefits that the internet says it has.” Straightening up in your stool, you continue, “In fact, there is evidence from the NIH that says drinking alkaline water could cause kidney damage. There’s a particular-“

“My bad,” he interjects, effectively stopping your rambling before it really took off, “I forgot whose girlfriend I was talking to.”

Groaning at your new vexation, you huff, “Oh, fuck off, Derek. Go kick down a door.”

Spencer quickly switches the phone back, “Thank you, angel.”

Squinting at the photos that were still on your laptop screen, a crude, disturbing thought came to mind, “You know, sparklers can cause alkali burns. It might be something to consider because of the diameter of the burns.”

Your boyfriend was silent on his end of the call for so long that you had to check and make sure the call hadn't dropped. “Did you say sparklers?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “like the ones you can get everywhere this time of year.”

He says something to Morgan, placing his hand over the receiver so you can’t hear, “There’s only one spot in this town, though. I’ve gotta go, see you soon.”

“Stay safe, please! I prefer your bones unburned,” you rattle off into the phone before it clicks, placing the phone back on the stand and deleting the crime scene photos from your inbox.

The front door to the apartment opens and shuts quietly, with Spencer under the assumption that you already went to bed, he was surprised to find you on the couch, nursing a cup of tea. “Hey, baby,” he chirps, unusually peppy for this time of night.

“Hey,” you say half-heartedly, threading your fingers through the handle of the mug.

Your somber tone gets Spencer’s attention, “What’s wrong?”

The slight panic in his voice causes your eyes to snap up to his, “Nothing,” you murmur. “It’s just… the woman who was in those pictures. There- the burns on her bones, they were signs of torture, weren’t they?”

You’d been thinking about the burns ever since Spencer showed them to you, “Yes,” he answers with a reciprocating softness, sitting down next to you on the couch. “The medical examiner concluded that she was burned antemortem.”

That woman had been burned alive by fireworks, sparklers had seared their way through skin and muscle until it finally met her bones. You blink a few tears from your eyes at the thought, “I like my lab, Spence.”

The confusion on his face was palpable, “I know you do.”

“I like my minimal human interaction and my chemicals, and I like knowing why certain things cause certain reactions. I like it when things make sense.” You take a deep, shaky breath, “Killing someone. Torturing someone with fireworks. That just doesn’t make sense to me.”

You had no interest in hearing the excuses that the killer had provided. You had no interest in hearing the psychological breakdown of that woman’s killer. Spencer knows that, “The photos got to you?”

Taking a sip from your mug, you nod solemnly, “I can’t stop thinking about the way it must have felt. Oh, the smell must have been horrible. That poor woman.” In theory, it was a ridiculous notion, killing someone with fireworks seemed neither probable nor possible. Yet here you are.

“But we got the person who killed her,” Spencer reassures you, resting his hand gently on your knee. “We couldn’t have done it without you,” he adds.

Your face warms at his compliment, “I wish I could have helped before she was killed.” You were grateful that Spencer hadn’t passed on any personal information about the woman, it was easier for you if you kept things in separate storage files in your mind.

Spencer hums, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “There’s always going to be another one. I’m sorry about the photos, I should’ve made sure Garcia only sent the necessary ones.”

Nodding absentmindedly, you look at him thoughtfully, “This will pass, but for tonight I just feel bad for the victim.”

“I can have Penelope share some of her favorite baby animal videos, if you’d like,” he offers softly, resting his head on your shoulder.

In return, you give him a small smile, “Well, I suppose it really can’t hurt.”

[raintemper]

Moon and Pebbles!! Yippee

oh the woes of being a flesh creature surrounded by supercomputer gods,, I got sad drawing him hhh

more about them under the line :>

Moon! She, like Suns, was one of the first successful projects and were both more of test models/therapeutic companions than anything else. They were both restructured to fit their new functions but Suns has obviously undergone more significant changes... Moon is kept inside to assist with research and computational stuff. She's a lab cat. She's generally looks more like a normal creature, and has a friendly appearance because her creators (i guess it would be the ancients) would be seeing her frequently and would rather a friendly face, something that is easily perceived as nonthreatening, as opposed to Suns weaponry and NSH's extra limbs and spikes. She doesn't have the screen face like NSH, so expressing emotions comes mostly from body language. Moon is not outside at all so there is no need for solar panel components like Suns or NSH. She has internal stored power that can last for quite a while but still needs to be recharged? I imagine the neuron fly drones would also assist in that department. The drones still function somewhat like her portable processing servers/braincells. She has also programed a defensive protocol into them, they can create small bits of electricity to use in dire moments. Initially programmed to keep track of NSH's samples that sometimes escapes him.

Pebbles is a purposed organism. He is a whole entire organic cat. He was born in the lab, in a chaotic time when resources were low. He has a mark of communication. He also has a brain chip where he can access (basically) the cloud where the others upload information. He is also a lab cat so this is crucial to his role. He did try and remove it once when he was younger and it backfired horribly and now he has a mechanical ear and eye. He still feels out of place for obvious reasons, being the only creature of organic origin amongst his peers.

He is closest to Moon who had a role in caring for and raising him. She did not know a thing about caring for a living being but did her best. Pebbles does not like being confined to the facility. The suggestion and influence the brain chip has on him sometimes clashes with his thoughts. He is very aware of the limitations it puts on him to not leave. He envies NSH and Suns a lot for being able to do what he can't. He often downloads the maps they create and read NSH's sample studies in his spare time. He also likes seeing the lizards NSH brings back, from a distance.

I think in the time that Pebbles exists, NSH is not very active. Due to the low resources and chaotic season, NSH is often in low power mode. Which means less expeditions outside and more time just, half asleep. And when the weather becomes more sustainable, NSH would be sent on long outings to gather as much as possible before being powered down again. So instead of hearing stories from NSH, he sought out Suns and UI instead. (Actually I think everyone is kind of low power mode here, Suns does not wander as far).

erhm i think he tries to leave the place and then gets sick or something,,,im still thinking..

[naileadevoras]

* taps mic * is this thing on ? hi pookies ! it's the week before christmas & today , i'm presenting to you all a list of different occupations for your muses . i've categorized them based on alphabetical order for a neater look & it'll be easier for you all to read / browse through . i hope you find this masterlist helpful !

a like + reblog would be greatly appreciated . happy holidays !

🎱 𝑨 - 𝑯 .

accountant

activist

actor / actress

aesthetician

animator

apartment flipper

art critique

artist

author

babysitter

baker

bank teller

barista

bartender

bellhop

bike messenger

body builder

body guard

book keeper

bookstore owner

bouncer

cake decorator

camp counselor

cars salesman

casino manager

casting director

chef

civic planner

comedian

computer engineer

concert promoter

construction worker

dentist

dermatologist

dietitian

doctor

disk jockey

diver

driver [ uber , lyft , private ]

emergency medical technician

entrepreneur

etsy shop owner

fast food employee

figure skater

firefighter

financial analyst

fisherman

florist

food deliverer [ postmates , uber eats , etc ]

food critic

former child star

former miss universe

funeral director

game developer

guidance counselor

hair dresser

hair stylist

high school teacher

🎱 𝑰 - 𝑸 .

influencer

interior decorator

investor

janitor

journalist

judge

kindergarten teacher

lab assistant [ biology / chemistry lab ]

lifeguard

line cook

maid

make up artist

manager

marine biologist

marriage / family therapist

massage therapist

matchmaker

mechanical engineer

mobile app developer

mortician

motorcycle mechanic

nail technician

nurse practitioner

nursing professor

obstetrician

pageant queen

physiotherapist

piercer

pilot for commercial airlines

plastic surgeon

police officer

personal stylist

private attorney

private chef

professional athlete [ football , basketball , soccer ]

professional boxer

professional chess player

professional esports player

professional mermaid

professional photographer

professor

programmer

public relations

quality control inspector

🎱 𝑹 - 𝒁 .

real estate agent

receptionist

relationship counselor

respiratory therapist

retail employee

sales person

set designer / illustrator

singer

small business owner

socialite

social media curator

social media intern

song - writer

sports agent

stunt double

tattoo artist

teacher's assistant

tour guide

tour manager

translator

travel writer [ journalist ]

twitch streamer

ultrasound technologist

veterinarian / vet assistant

waiter / waitress

web art director

yoga instructor

zoologist

[fullfriendnerdclutch]

Since you love it when people expanded your storyline, please allow me to entertain you about Cas because this is right up my alley @onelinerbust

Something extraordinary happened to me earlier today. As I smugly grin with my roommate to our enhanced reflection in the mirror, my mind wandered to 10 hours ago when that hit me.

My fingers, stained with Cheeto dust and smelling faintly of lukewarm ramen, hammered away at the keyboard, lines of Python code blooming on the screen like digital weeds. The hum of the server rack in the corner was my white noise, the flickering monitor my campfire. This was my life, resident basement dweller in a leafy, aggressively liberal campus more interested in protesting free speech than actually engaging with it.

My world consisted of logic gates, late-night coding sessions, and the occasional awkward conversation with a teaching assistant about why my sorting algorithm was eating up more memory than a browser running Chrome. Social life? Non-existent. Romantic prospects? Laughable. I’d spend my weekends huddled in the dimly lit computer lab, bathed in the cool glow of screens, while the rest of the campus pulsed with parties and… well, whatever else regular college kids did. I wouldn't know. Regular wasn't in my programming.

*bzzzt bzzzt*

Little did I know back then, it was the catalyst. It was a rarity for someone to message me, most of the time people reached me through the more accessible socials, message to my phone number usually ended up as spam. But something – a flicker of boredom, maybe – made me pick it up and unlock it.

The message was long, rambling, and…...weird.

“Cas, wake the fuck up. This is a trick, you are NOT a spineless soyboy. You’re supposed to be a GOD, remember? 🤯 Alpha💪🏻. American 🇺🇸. White 🫵🏻. You have all it takes to become the God that you are destined to be! 🦅🦅🦅🇺🇸 This is not it! Look at you, pathetic. Remember gridiron glory? Friday night lights? The roar of the crowd as you, Chad ‘The Crusher’ Kensington, leading your team to victory? 🏈🏈🏆 Remember the cheerleaders, their pom-poms a blur, their eyes hungry for you? Remember the taste of victory, the scent of their slick pussy🍑😏, the adoration in their eyes when they kneel to your greatness🍆💦🧠? You deserve it all. It’s your birthright. This woke bullshit campus is trying to neuter you, but deep down, the alpha is still there. Let him out. Unleash the beast 😤👹👹 They want weakness? Show them power. They want equality? Show them hierarchy. They want gentleness? Show them dominance. Go take what's yours, Chad. Grab your crown and spoil, king 👑, you know I'm right and you approve this message! 😤😤

The message was punctuated with emojis – flexing biceps, crowns, American flags, and an unsettling number of suggestive faces. My brow furrowed. This had to be some kind of elaborate prank. Some right-wing troll farm had probably gotten hold of my number. I was about to delete it when a strange warmth spread in my chest. Like a shot of something potent and unfamiliar.

It started small. A tingling in my fingers, then a tightening in my gut, like I'd just downed a gallon of protein shake. My vision sharpened, my glasses become an obstacle so I took it down. The code on the screen, which had been a comforting blur of familiar symbols, now seemed almost… insulting. My shoulders straightened instinctively. I flexed my fingers, and there was…more there. Definitely more. Concerned, I decided to make a dash to the bathroom, trying to relive myself and not disturb the others with my painful groan

As I entered the empty, secluded bathroom, that was when it hit.

It wasn't a slow transition. It was a goddamn reality shift. One second, I was Cas, the hunched-over coder, the next…I trembled on the floor as my body screamed with a new kind of awareness. My skin flushed with heat as it gets tighter, stretched over something hard and defined. Muscles. Real muscles. Not the flabby kind that comes from hauling bags of chips from the store to the dorm. These were….sculpted....powerful, dare I say.

Despite my attempt to look at my surroundings and begging for help, I only let out a weak, pathetic whimper as my gaze dropped to my swelling arms. I ripped off my oversized, stained hoodie, the fabric tearing slightly at the seams. The skinny, pale limbs I’d known my entire life were gone. It was replaced by thick, corded arms with veins popping under my now tanned, still-white skin. I managed to get some control over my trembling, swelling form, as I pushed myself to stand up. Then, as if a truck just hit me, my reflection stared back from the dirty bathroom mirror

It wasn't me, I thought rightaway, but a painful glitch hit my brain and I relaxed afterward.

The round, soft face was gone. Sharp angles had emerged – a strong jawline, high cheekbones. My eyes, which had always been a bland, watery blue behind thick glasses, were now a piercing, intense steel-grey, framed by this intimidating, darker eyebrows. My boring, unimpressive thin brunette with signs of receding hairline, had thickened, styled into a coiffed, blonde cut that framed my face perfectly. And… holy shit, my chest. I was enamored by the sight of it…defined...yet pillowy too, definitely the kind of pecs that can hypnotize anyone that stared at it for too long

The rest of my torso were equally outstanding, rippling with muscle and power beyond even my wildest imagination. A six-pack, for Christ’s sake! I ran a hand over my stomach, feeling the hard ridges beneath my skin. It felt… alien. And utterly, undeniably amazing.

Below the Adonis belt… well, let’s just say things were… proportionately enhanced. The message hadn't lied. Eight inches? Minimum. This wasn't just a physical transformation. It was…fundamental. A complete rewrite of my being.

And the memories…they flooded in, vivid and visceral, like a lifetime I’d somehow forgotten. Friday night lights. The roar of the crowd. Me, Chad Kensington, throwing a perfect spiral, the ball whistling through the air, finding my receiver in the end zone for the winning touchdown. Cheerleaders chanting my name. The hot press of bodies in the locker room, the smell of sweat and victory. The adoring gazes of girls, lining up for a piece of me.

Chad Kensington. That's me now. That had always been me. And this Cas memory… this weak, nerdy shell, this “Cas,” was just some… aberration. A glitch in the matrix, finally corrected.

A surge of pure, unadulterated testosterone pulsed through my veins. I thought to myself, this is power. This is dominance. This is what I was meant to be.

I remembered that I reached down, gripped myself through my sweatpants – they were suddenly too tight, too strained at the seams – and started to stroke hard, the phantom memories of cheering crowds and eager pussy fueling my hand. Chad Kensington, college star. Chad Kensington, panty-dropper extraordinaire. Chad Kensington, alpha male supreme. The image solidified in my mind, burning hot and real. I came hard all over the bathroom, my streak of thick, white cum painted the tiles, the mirror and even coagulated at the sink, the force of it surprising even myself, the false memory of adoration and conquest washing over me like a tidal wave.

When I finally opened my eyes, still breathing heavily, I realized that this would the very last time I would be jacking off to my dick in such a pathetic state. My baby batter would not be wasted in an empty, secluded bathroom like that so I quickly put my clothes back on and dashed to the computer lab to made my exit from the confine of that oppressive cage.

As I entered the lab, I remembered it suddenly felt… suffocating. Small. Pathetic. It wasn't my place anymore. Chad Kensington didn’t belong in a basement coding Phyton and shit. He belonged out there, dominating, conquering, taking what was rightfully his.

"Chad, what took you so long?"

Yeah, that was fun. Ramsey......did that pathetic TA really tried to intimidate me with that furrowed brow of his and confined me with bureaucracy BS? Well, he better be fuckin' jacked first before starting to act tough to me. Then, my brain started working. Maybe Ramsey can be less of a whiny, judgy TA if he received the message, so I just forwarded the message to him and smirked as I told him that I sent my reason to his personal messenger and I need to get the fuck out of here ASAP. He turned around and started to read the chat, and from the small glimpse that I managed to peek, the message is different from what I received! That's when the realization hit me. I legit mouthed "Damn" to myself as I realized that it's adaptive......like, that shit can change based on who read it. That revelation made my head spin, that message was indeed some fucking precisive, hi-tech work there. But the effect seemed to be the same, it made the reader into its best version of themselves, because how do you explain that a fucking algorithmic TA all-in-a-sudden have the built of a jacked bull like that, huh?

As he allowed me to grab my bag and leave the lab with a knowing nod, my stomach growled – not from hunger, but from a different kind of hunger. A primal urge. And then it brought me back to this very room as I remembered Kate, Jason's girlfriend. I know Jason, my roommate, was still at his stupid philosophy club meeting as I cleaned out my table, probably droning on about existential dread and Kate.....Kate was always… around, waiting for him. She's pretty enough, in a bland, accessible way. And always subtly, almost unconsciously, throwing glances my way. I knew even from back then that it must be the fucked up, corrupt message that made me think that way because Kate would never glanced to pathetic, asocial Cas, but at the same time, I was hit by this duality as I remembered myself as NOT Cas. Of course she glanced at me, I'm Chad fucking Kensington and people will not only glance my way, they will snap their head to view my greatness.

I strode out of the computer lab, my newfound muscles rippling under my thin tanktop (which also felt alarmingly small and tight). The campus walkways felt different. People noticed me. Heads turned. Girls giggled. Guys gave me that wary, respectful nod that alphas exchanged. It was intoxicating.

When I finally arrived at my dorm room, it was unlocked, as usual. Jason was perpetually trusting, another symptom of his pathetic beta male existence, I thought. I pushed it open, and there she was, Kate, sprawled on Jason's bed, scrolling through her phone, oblivious.

“Hey,” I said, my voice deeper, rougher than I remembered. Chad’s voice.

She looked up, startled as I take my shirt off so casually to reveal the sheen of sweat that seemingly coated my body. Her eyes widened, lingering on my… physique. A flicker of something in her eyes I recognized – desire – flashed in them.

“Cas? Uh.... sorry, the room is unlocked, Jason said.....I....I can wait in his bed. You just finished with practice?” Her voice was breathy, a little uncertain.

“Chad,” I corrected, stepping closer. “It’s Chad,"

She swallowed, her gaze dropping to my chest. “Chad,” she repeated, testing the name on her lips as I can see the memory started to jog on her brain. “Yeah, Chad.”

“Jason’s not here,” I stated, knowing it wasn’t a question.

She shook her head, a nervous laugh escaping her. “No, he’s… still in philosophy club.”

“Right,” I said, closing the distance between us. I reached out, my hand closing around her wrist, pulling her to her feet. Her skin was soft, yielding in my grip. Too soft. She needed to be hardened up. Tamed.

“By the way, read your phone, dropped something you would be interested to read," I said, glancing at her phone with a knowing smirk as I decided that she would be my first female guinea pig

I watched it in real time how the bland, average-looking Kate started to get way more prettier, leagues above Jason definitely, the curve gets wilder and her face really turned exactly how I imagined a sultry blonde bimbo falling head over heels for me would look like. So, after proving my little theory to be correct, that the message is transformative beyond men, I decided to test out yet another probability. Her slightly vacant eyes gave me idea as I saw a potential to create more excitement, more chaos, so I grabbed her by the chin to made her stare at me and start digging

"You get close to my roommate just to have chances to be in the same room with me, don't you? You're not the brightest girl out there, Cathy, I can see right through your play,"

Bingo, I smirked in my mind. That mind was jogging hard to made my words her reality. And since I have started anyway, I decided to take it up a notch to made my words her Bible

"In fact, you always fantasize Jason as me, right? This room smelled like me, you can taste me in the air so when you close your eyes as Jason fucked you, that mind of yours played this little game to make you think I was the one doing the fucking, huh? That's why you always come here earlier than Jason and I, you imprinted my fucking musk in your head by digging through my dirty laundry and closet so you can go through that unimpressive sex with Jason with me in mind, don't you? Well, he's not around, so why not use this time for you to just taste the real thing?"

She didn’t resist as I pulled her closer, my body pressing against hers. And seemingly taken over by her wilder, improved side, she started licking and kissing my abs

We were on Jason's bed in seconds, her clothes ripped open, the cheap fabric tearing easily under my hands. She moaned like a slut in heat, calling my name like I'm his God and only savior which fueled my dominance. It was power. It was control. It was… right.

Just as I was piledriving my cock into her now very irresistibly tight pussy, the door swung open. Jason stood there, textbooks clutched in his hand, his jaw dropping as he took in the scene. Me, thrusting hard into his girlfriend, her muffled moan filling the room.

“Cas?!” His voice was a strangled squawk.

I paused, looking up at him, a smirk playing on my lips. “Chad,” I corrected again. “And you need to check your phone, Jason,”

He stared at me, bewildered, then slowly lowered his gaze to his phone, which he thankfully had in his pocket. He fumbled it out, unlocked it with trembling fingers, and then… his eyes widened. He read something on the screen, his face shifting, contorting.

The change wasn’t as instantaneous as mine had been, but it was happening. His posture straightened. His shoulders broadened. His soft, doughy face hardened, angles emerging where there had been curves. His eyes sharpened, losing their bewildered puppy-dog look, gaining a new, predatory gleam.

“Holy… fuck,” he breathed, dropping his textbooks to the floor with a thud. He looked at me, a grin spreading across his transformed face, a grin that mirrored my own. “Chad?”

“Welcome to the club, bro,” I said, nodding. “Plenty to go around.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He ripped off his shirt, revealing a surprisingly decent set of pecs that I didn’t remember being there before. He was still smaller than me, but… he was getting there. Fast.

Without a word, he joined me on the bed. Cathy, who had been silent and still during the initial shock of Jason’s arrival, moaned again as he climbed on top of her, his gaze now burning with the same predatory hunger I felt.

We tag-teamed her, me dealing with her now bubbly, curvy ass while Jason handled the front, his now uncut 6 inchers really bruised her throay in a brutal, animalistic act of dominance. Tears and sweat leaked out of her alongside the obvious pussy juices and saliva, but she's not really protesting despite all the shit we did to her, just… taking it. Submitting. Like the good, cheerleader slut she was. It was… satisfying. In a deeply, disturbingly primal way.

Later, after we were done, Cathy panted for breath looking like a total wrecked mess on Jason's bed as I and Jason stood side-by-side, flexing in front of the mirror. The dorm room felt… different. Charged. Alive. With power.

As my mind snapped back to the current situation and how much change I have caused, Jason's question really cause a stir in my mind

“Think this… message… can do this to anyone?” Jason asked, running a hand over his newly defined jawline.

I smirked. “Oh I know this shit can do it to anyone. But let's see how far this can go,"

I pulled out my phone, found the message, and forwarded it to the Computer Science group chat. A chat filled with other pathetic, nerdy guys like I used to be. Guys who needed… guidance. Correction.

Almost instantly, phones started buzzing and pinging around the dorm. Then, shouts. Yells. The sound of furniture being overturned. Loud, aggressive music blaring from open windows. Footsteps pounding in the hallway.

Jason and I exchanged a glance. Then we grinned. Wide, feral grins.

The campus is about to change. And Chad Kensington, along with his newly minted alpha brothers, is going to be leading the charge. My birthright, after all.

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 31- Ghost face!Miguel x Shy!Reader

*Requested by the many fans of tumblr. Happy Halloween!*

        Everyone had warned you about moving to Nueva York. The amount of dangerous people in that city were overwhelming. You were going to be eaten alive as your friends and family warned. You thought of yourself better and wanted to prove to them that you could survive. The shy and quiet you, who barely had to courage to say no. It was something you always struggled with, but you hoped that this new job would help you with it.

        You were hired at Alchemax as a lab assistant. You tried to fit in, but everyone was so self centered that you ended up being a loner. Everyone except one person. Miguel O'Hara. He had extended the hand of friendship to you, wanting to make you feel more comfortable around the place. You instantly fell for him. He was so kind to you and understanding. You had just wished that everyone was like him. You had wished you had the courage to ask him out.

"(Y/N), are you okay?" Miguel asked as he tried to grab your attention. You flinched out of your daydream,

"Y-Yeah, sorry. I've been...tired lately."

"I've noticed that you've been taking on other people's work. You need to learn to say no," Miguel told you before typing away on his computer. You could only nod,

"I...know...I've also had trouble sleeping...N-News of that...Ghostface going around killing people has me spooked." Miguel glanced you way, handing you a bottle of water, "T-Thanks."

"You'll be okay, tomorrow's Halloween, that's the last day he goes out. Just stay home, okay?" You let out a small whimper, hesitating. "You are staying home, right?" Miguel asked, stopping his work. Tears almost fell from your eyes,

"I-I got...I was told to join some of the others...a-at a small...work...party," Miguel saw you shaking, "I-I...I couldn't say no..."

"Sí, ¿qué voy a hacer contigo? Mi pobre muñeca inocente. (Aye, what am I to do with you? My poor innocent doll.)" Miguel whispered, knowing that you knew nothing of Spanish. He took you hand, calming you down, "Don't worry, you'll be okay."

        You looked into Miguel's eyes, smiling softly as you calmed down. After wiping your tears away, you thanked him quietly before hurrying off to go back to work. Miguel watched you scurry off. He growled lowly as he walked to his trash. That invitation was in there somewhere. Your coworkers didn't care about you to invite you to some Halloween party. They had other plans, and now Miguel did too. Finding the paper, Miguel's eyes shined brighter than normal.

"Tendré que matar a todos y hacerme el héroe, sólo para ti, mi preciosa querida. (I'll just have to kill everyone and play the hero, just for you my precious darling)"

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

        You stood in the corner of the small party, watching all of your coworkers enjoying themselves. You glanced down at your costume, wondering if it was too weird. Everyone else was dressed up in slutty and revealing outfits and here you were, with the costume you thought looked the cutest. You sighed sadly, wondering why you were even here. No one was talking to you. You were just there. Another sigh escaped your lips as you made your way to the upstairs bathroom.

        As you washed up, you heard faint screaming. You gasped and shut the light off, your heart beating faster. Loud thumps echoed from the staircase, causing you to whimper. Tears rolled down your cheeks as the loud thumping stopped right in front of the bathroom door. You hurried into the tub, holding yourself as you shook. This was not how you wanted to die. You cried as the door slammed open,

"BOO!"

"KYAAA!" You screamed, covering your ears. You heard loud laughter and raised your head to your coworkers,

"Ah man! Did you get that on video!?" One of them yelled.

        You stormed out of the bathroom, sobbing past everyone as they laughed at you. You made your way to the backyard since the front entrance was blocked off. You sat on the steps, crying your eyes out. They only invited you to make fun of you since you were so scared of Ghostface. You were just a quiet coworker, what did you do to deserve this? Upon hearing another scream, you whimpered in response. Were they trying to scare you again?

"I'll just stay here for a bit. They have to unblock the door soon," You whispered.

----------

        Miguel had watched the whole thing. His anger had reached a new boiling point. Fixing his mask, Miguel's grip on his knife tighten as he made his way inside. He was the one who blocked the door. Standing in the corner, Miguel watched you ran outside crying. Perfect. He was going to start with the stragglers downstairs. It was a big house and not too many people. The job needed to get new employees anyway. These guys were just dead weight.

        Miguel approached each person a little louder than he wanted. He was so fueled with anger that he couldn't focus. He just wanted everyone to pay for what they did. After his first kill, Miguel inhaled deeply. The smell of metallic blood filling his nostrils. He was not going to get now. He had taken out his anger during this month. It was the only time he could. Slowly making his way over to his next victim, Miguel resisted a chuckle as he thought of you.

        You were going to be his perfect little wife. Miguel was going to make sure you stay in the dark about his secret. He just wanted to keep you safe. He wanted to keep you protected and loved. When you first arrived at Alchemax, Miguel thought he saw an angel. A shy little angel who entered his life just for him. Miguel had hunted every single asshole who dared tried to flirt with you, or even scared you. Miguel was going to be your dark protector.

"AHHHHHH!" 

        There it was. The first scream of the night and not from a scare, but because of the dead bodies that laid under Miguel. Smiling through the mask, Miguel watched the girl run to warn the others. Ah yes, that was the start. Miguel inhaled deeply, getting enjoyment from true horror. He was going to enjoy his last few kills of the night. It was going to be another year until Miguel could kill again.

----------

        After calming down, you decided to leave. You rubbed your eyes once more before entering the house. It was quiet aside from the sound of thumping from upstairs. They were probably enjoying themselves. Honestly, you were mad at your cruel coworkers. You stopped at the front door, seeing that it was still blocked. Why were they doing this to you? The couch was far too heavy for you to move on your own. Looking for another way out, you gasped as you stepped in something.

"My shoe," You whimpered, looking at the red puddle.

        Following the puddle, you gasped sharply as you saw one of you coworkers dead. Your heart started to race again as screams came from upstairs. You hurried to the kitchen, wondering if there was a door there and froze as another dead body laid before you. This was bad. Ghostface was here and he was killing everyone. Tears began to roll down your cheeks again as you hurried to find somewhere to escape. Maybe there was a gate in the backyard?

"Please! Don't kill me!" One of your coworkers screamed as another ran down the stairs,

"(Y/N)?! You're still here?!" He yelled and gasped as Ghostface started to walk down the stairs, "Fuck it, I ain't dying here!"

        You yelped as your coworker grabbed you harshly and threw you in front of the staircase. You eyes widen as you nearly froze in fear as Ghostface stood directly before you. You couldn't move. His knife was stained with blood. You shook and closed your eyes, crying as you waited for the worst.

"No! Stay back!"

        You shuddered a gasp as you heard Ghostface leave to your coworker first. Quickly, you found a closet and hid in there until it was safe. You were frighten and scared. Covering your ears, you tried to stay quiet as you waited. Waited for Ghostface to leave.

"(Y/N)? Are you here?" That voice. You knew it all too well.

"M-Miguel! R-Run!" You cried out.

----------

        Miguel whispered some cusses towards your coworkers as he stabbed him. Now that everyone was dead, it was time for you. He knew that you ran to the living room, but where were you hiding? He stopped to clean his knife in the kitchen sink, washing all the blood off. Once that was done, he attached the knife to his thigh strap under his pants. He then took his mask off, putting it inside one of his cloak pockets that was big enough.

"(Y/N)? Are you here?" He called out, wanting to bring you out of hiding.

"M-Miguel! R-Run!" Those cries weren't meant for you.

"It's okay, I'm here now. I saw Ghostface head upstairs, quickly close your eyes and come out. I'll get you out of here."

        You were such a good girl for him. You crawled out of the closet with your eyes closed, your breathing still heavy. Miguel just smiled towards your shaken form, knowing that you were going to be in his arms in a second. With ease, he picked you up, holding you close. He could feel your heart beat. You were sobbing and holding onto him for dear life. You had no reason to cry now. Miguel was going to take care of you.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here," Miguel whispered as he stroked your head. You just cried into his shoulder,

"M-Miguel, I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"You have nothing to apologize for. I'll take good care of you,"

"T-They're all dead. I-I thought...I was next...Miguel...I love you. I love you. I'm sorry, I'm a scaredy cat and shy and nervous...I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner," You kept babbling, crying your heart out since you thought you were going to die.

"Dios mío, no me esperaba esto. Voy a follarte bien esta noche para que te olvides de todo esto. (My god, I wasn't expecting this. I'm going to fuck you go good tonight that you're going to forget all about this.)" He groaned lowly.

"M-Miguel?"

"It's okay, (Y/n), I love you too. I'll take good care of you."

-----------

        You sniffled as you stepped out of Miguel's shower, rubbing your arms as you wore some of his spare clothes. Miguel was kind enough to take you to his home, wanting to comfort you for the night. You were nervous as you stepped into his living room. It was quiet. Miguel was taking a shower in his other bathroom. Who would have thought that Miguel was rich? You explored his place, still surprised by the turn of events.

        You ended up in the kitchen, noticing a knife in the sink. It looked so much like the knife Ghostface had. Shaking the thought out of your head, you made your way back to the living room. You wanted to forget about what happened tonight. You tried to at least. You knew you were going to have trouble sleeping again. Tomorrow was going to be harsher because everyone was going to be asking about the others. Asking why you were the only one left alive.

"W-What if they think I killed them?" You stuttered at the thought. Miguel approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist,

"Then they would be fools," He kissed the back of your neck.

        You shuddered at the affection Miguel gave you. Turning around, you pulled him into a tight hug. Miguel chuckled as he picked you up and carried you to his bedroom. Your cheeks burned up as he placed you on his bed. Miguel stroked your cheek, calming you down again. His smile instantly making you fold for him.

"Do you trust me?" Miguel asked you as he slowly climbed over you. You just nodded, "Good, there's something you need to know,"

        You whimpered as Miguel kissed your neck. His hands stroked your sides under the shirt you wore. He let out a low groan since you looked so good in his clothes. You let out a breathless moan as he cupped you breasts. Miguel was going to wait until you were completely in his grasp before telling you. After all, you couldn't say no. You were going to be his good girl forever.

"M-Miguel?" You whined softly as he took your shirt off, squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples. 

"You're not going back to work," Miguel whispered as he started to grind his bulge against your cunt, "You're going to stay here. Make it look like you died with the others."

"W-What?!" You asked, but flung your head back as Miguel sucked on your breasts.

        You moaned softly as Miguel spread you legs, allowing him to rut into you rougher. You felt yourself getting wetter. The boxers he let you wear were too thin and easy for him to grind against. You tried to ask him what he meant, but you were being overwhelmed with pleasure. Miguel's hands were now resting against the boxers, rubbing your clit against the fabric. You body leaned into his touch, desperate for more. His tongue swirled around your nipple, making his way back up to your neck.

"You're going to stay here, baby." He whispered again, his fingers dipping under the boxers and circling your clit, "My beautiful angel. I can't let anyone have you. I can't let anyone harm you. You were always mine."

"Mhm~ M-Miguel~"

"(Y/N), don't be afraid of me. I will never harm you." Miguel watched as you bit you lower lip, moving your hips with his hand, "Así es. Déjame convertirte en la esposa perfecta. Déjame manchar tu hermosa inocencia. (That's right. Let me fuck you into the perfect wife. Let me taint your beautiful innocence." He groaned lowly.

        You whimpered a moan as you felt a knot tighten inside you. Miguel moved his fingers faster against your clit, causing that knot to tighten. You tried to rub your legs together, but Miguel kept them spread. He sucked against your neck, groaning as you cam from just him playing with your clit. His fingers dipped lower, two digits entering your tight, soaked cunt. You moaned again, your cunt squeezing his fingers as he pumped inside you.

"Ah, my sweet innocent little angel. Watching you break because of me is so delicious." Miguel groaned as you squirmed and moved your hips to his touch, "You're going to stay here. I'll make sure no one will ever hurt you again, understood?"

"Y-Yes! Yes!" You cried out as his fingers feverishly fucked your tight gummy walls.

        You whined as Miguel raised your legs over his shoulders. Your pussy clenched his fingers as he started to curl against your sweet spot. You flung your head back as he started to wiggle his fingers inside you. His thumb rubbed against your clit again, bringing you over to the edge. Miguel wasn't making any sense, but his words were making you wetter. Honestly, with how tonight went, you wouldn't mind being stuck in Miguel's home forever. He was your protector.

"M-MIG-" You screamed out as you reached another orgasm. Miguel pulled his fingers out, licking them,

"You even taste sweet," He hummed, holding his erection towards your twitching folds, "You have no idea the amount of men I had to get rid of to make sure you stayed innocent, just for me. Seré tu primero en todo... y tu último. (I will be your first for everything...and your last.)" He groaned.

        You whimpered as you felt Miguel's dick stretch you out painfully. His cock was so thick and long. Your pussy was convulsing around him, sucking him in while drool rolled down your lips. He was making you feel so full. You wanted to question him on what he meant by getting rid of people, but you started to get drunk off his cock. Another whimper escaped your lips as Miguel groaned, fitting his whole length inside you. You swore that he was pressing against your cervix, but you weren't sure. This was a first for you.

"Un ajuste perfecto. Fuiste hecho para mí, cariño. Voy a grabar la forma de mi polla en tu memoria. (A perfect fit. You were made for me, darling. I'm going to fuck the shape of my dick into your memory.)" He groaned, slowly pulling out of you, "Killing all those people made this worth it."

"H-Huh?"

        You moaned loudly as Miguel thrusted his dick back inside you, hitting your cervix with each thrust. You cried out as Miguel started to bully your cunt, causing you to turn into putty under him. You could barely feel your legs as the slapping sounds between you grew louder. His dick forming a perfect space inside your pussy. You trembled as you started to reach another orgasm, unable to take the pleasure that he was filling you with.

"Look at you, so fucked out on my cock. How does it feel to get fucked by Ghostface, baby? Does my dick feel that good?" Miguel moaned as you tighten around him, "Yes, it does, doesn't it. Why else would you be squeezing me this tight?"

"H-Hah~ Ah~ Y-You're....ah~ mhpm...G-Ghost...f-face?" You whimpered lowly. Miguel fasten his pace, enjoying the white ring that formed around his dick,

"Yes. I'm the scary Ghostface that killed those asshole coworkers of ours," He chuckled, stopping to fill you with his seed, "I told you that you'd be okay. I will never, ever hurt you. Only love you."

        You wanted to be scared. You truly did, but both your brain and your heart were only thinking about Miguel's dick pounding you still. His hot semen filling your womb as he kept fucking you dumb. You body twitched from overstimulation as Miguel started to rub your clit again. He leaned down to kiss you, biting you lower lip as you moaned for him. His grip tighten against your hips, rutting into you furiously. He wanted to make sure you knew that you were his.

"Awe? Tired already? I think I need to show you how many people I've killed for you. Here's the second victim." Miguel groaned as he cummed inside you again. 

"Mhm~" You muffled lowly, growing exhausted. Miguel chuckled as he pulled you to his lap,

"Tienes razón cariño. Vas a ser la esposa de Ghostface. Siempre puedo mostrarte mi amor en cualquier momento. (You're right darling. You're going to be Ghostface's wife. I can always show you my love anytime.)

----------

        When you woke up, Miguel was by your side with water, vitamins and breakfast. He had bathed you and put on a fresh pair of clothes. You recalled his confession from last night and grew slightly nervous. Miguel, the man you longed for, was the murderous Ghostface. He killed your coworkers and faked your death. You now belonged to Miguel. You wanted to be scared, but Miguel had proved to you that he was never going to hurt you.

        Maybe it was your blind faith or actually being fucked dumb, but you willingly agreed to stay with Miguel. You stayed in his place as his house wife, greeting him with love everyday. Miguel rewarded your love with his brutal sex, reminding you that you belonged to him. By next Halloween, Miguel returned to his Ghostface persona, needing to release some steam. You became his accomplish, making sure that he returned home safe and sound.

"How was my good girl tonight?" Miguel hummed as he slapped his dick into your soaked pussy. You whined into the bedsheets,

"D-Distracted t-the...ah~ police...s-sending em...mhm~ opposite side of...of....ah~ t-town~!" You cried out. Miguel groaned happily, harshly shoving his dick deeper into you to fill,

"That's my perfect angel. Well done."

"T-Thank you!" You moaned against him, shaking from the pleasure. Miguel hummed happily as he kept thrusting inside you,

"I think you deserve a reward. Why don't we try making a little Ghostface jr?"

"Yes! Yes!"

        Your vision blurred as you moved in rhythm to Miguel's thrusts. Your mind started to fill with lust as you became tainted by Miguel. You were just as bad as him now, but you didn't care anymore. As long as Miguel was there to love you and protect you, you were okay. You moaned loudly as you cam against his dick, burying your head into the pillow again. You were happy with you life now. You were going to protect and live with Miguel forever.

Forever as Ghostface's wife.

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Donnie Tech Part 1/?

After many moons here are the promised observations of the cartoon shtick logic of Donnie's weapons for season one!! Will link a season two and movie version Eventually, but keep in mind I can't explain in depth how each bit of tech works, rather that I can pinpoint the functions for the visual bit. Keep in mind that Donnie's tech can pretty much do any ridiculous thing you can put your mind to, and that it can also backfire in any ridiculous way you can put your mind to.

Tech Bo:

Collapsible, can become a shorter version of itself easily stored

Shoot a grappling hook AND function as a zip line

Can form a rocket from either end (usually at the same time, resulting in the bo spinning)

Is equipped to be a fire extinguisher

Can shoot out lasers

Has a button that activates the "Shopping Cart Protocol" to lock the Turtle Tank if it goes outside a set perimeter

Top can turn into a rocket powered fist

Turn into a giant drill

Turn into a saw

Turn into a tranquilizer

Turn into a tennis ball shooter

Turn into a selfie stick

Top can turn into a disco ball of "multidimensional reflective orb neutralizer"

Battle Shell:

Has rotary engines (think jet turbine or computer fan) that help him fly around. He calls them "rotors" for short

Can transform into a seat so April can sit on his back

Can split up into a DJ set up in "music mode"

Jet Pack Shell:

His fastest mode of transportation

Not much is shown, but April had a significant difficulty controlling it

Spider Shell:

Has four arms with three fingers

Arms can turn into saws

Has a seemingly endless toolkit inside that includes basic things like hammers and wrenches, but also blowtorches

Goggles:

Has night vision

Can function as binoculars

Is able to summon is tech ("communicates with microwave transceiver with class c encryption protocols")

Read mystic energy signatures after adding the crystal they found in Draxum's lab

Gauntlet:

Has an app that can tap into every security camera in NY

Bug Slapper:

Has a green Mad Dogs sticker on the side

Compacts itself into a metal suitcase and then expand back into a vehicle

So far only uses Big Mama's webbing material as projectiles

Shelldon:

Began as an automated smart lair designed with the intent as a cleaning assistant

Has a "disposal unit" which unlocks several of Donnie's weapons such as: guns, pinchers, drills, and flamethrowers

Can carry at least two turtles (Mikey and Donnie)

Is nicknamed "Cyber Bishop" by Donnie

Uses surfer dude slang: “dude”, “gnarly”, “buzzkill”, “okey dokey”, “dawg”, “you beefed it”, “brohounds"

As a smart lair has clear favoritism towards Donnie until tampered with. As a drone they share more of a familial or pet like relationship, and Shelldon has room to sometimes poke at Donnie's faults as well

In conclusion there's not much to worry about breaking canon, the physics of our reality, or understanding complicated tech and science to write about Donnie's tech. He can do whatever he wants as long as it's silly, overly dramatic, and includes an unnecessary amount of purple guns. His tech bo is especially flexible with breaking the rules even before we get to his ninpo powers.

I'm keeping the Turtle Tank separate, because it also deserves its own post. Happy writing!

[jobsnotices]

Barahathawa Municipality Vacancy 2081 for Various Positions

Barahathawa Municipality Vacancy 2081 for Various Positions for Nagar Hospital. Interested and eligible candidates are invited to apply within 30 days of publication of this notification. CAREER OPPORTUNITY  Barahathawa Municipality Vacancy 2081 for Various Positions Note: Simply, we share national and international job opportunity through this website for the educational and informational…

[ju1cyfru1t]

no thoughts only rise donnie being soft for his s/o 😭😭😭

any soft/affectionate donnie hcs please 🤲

HEHEHEHEHHEHEEEHEHHEHWHWHH

Rise! Donatello x reader

Soft Donnie hcs 🥹

fluff:D gn reader, romantic

not proofread

My baby :(

- Donnie makes you gifts all the time! It’s one of his ways of saying he loves you since he’s not too experienced with this whole feelings stuff. He also just loves to see you get excited over something that he made.

- will help fix the little things for you! (that maybe he wouldn’t do for others djjdjdkdkd) Your computer isn’t working? Give him 5 minutes and it’s working just fine. Leo’s phone is bugging? He can wait, Donnie is a busy man after all.

- Someone knocks over his staff?! …oh it was you? well, accidents happen I suppose.

- Will absolutely brag about anything he helps you with, it makes him feel good. You could have asked someone else, but you asked him. Not Raph, not Mikey, and why the hell would you ask Leo? (JK I LOVE HIM😭)

- Does NOT let his brothers (mostly Leo) drag you into their tomfoolery if it’s dangerous. (Long story; you got portal-ed to New Jersey one time *COUGH*LEO*COUGH*)

- Fairly confident, he knows you love him and he loves you. Heartfelt and vulnerable moments just aren’t his thing, so when they do happen you know he really means it because he’s doing it just for you.

- you have your very own special seat in the turtle tank <3

- definitely the type to remember all of your favorite things (snacks, drinks, movies, anything)

- you’re basically Shelldon’s other parent and he treats you as such. -> “Do not talk to your mother that way, young man! I mean, uh, Y/N! don’t tal- HOLD ON-“

- will talk to you for hours and hours about new projects he’s started or wants to start and is really, really excited that you care about his interests. (Two reallys)

- would NEVER admit it to anyone but really likes to hold you entirely or just your hand, especially while he talks to you ^lectures

- probably needs a few visits with Dr.Feelings (Mikey thinks you guys are so cute)

- would kick his brothers out and only allows you in his lab if he’s really busy and into working on something. would gladly let you assist him if you pinky promise to be really careful, but doesn’t trust anyone else around his precious tech.

- sitting in his lap??? while he works??? I think so.

- Wants to watch all of his favorite Jupiter Jim movies with you! + Would show you all of his favorite games and comics. Might even actually let you borrow one or two if you swear they will return to him in mint condition.

- 100% denies it if anyone (fucking LEO) were to ever point out your special privileges even though he knows it’s true and you most definitely do. He just wants to avoid the teasing if he can.

- But it’s inevitable (*COUGH*LEO)

- it’s not that he’s embarrassed, he just isn’t used to that kind of relationship and he really appreciates your understanding, even if he doesn’t say it.

- when you cuddle he likes to lay his head on your chest, it’s the most comfortable for him. esp if you give VERY gentle shell scritches

- I REPEAT, GIFT GIVING. TELL HIM YOU LOVE HIS GIFTS, HE MELTS.

- hide all of your purple clothing bro

-“your sweater? the gorgeous, perfect, dazzling purple one? …haven’t seen it.”

- would call you “darling” or “dear/dearest” when he feels like it

- overall, very whipped 👍 very sweet silly boy :(

[cosmicdahlias]

Picture You

MINORS DNI

You’re snowed in at your research partner’s place! All other rooms are occupied so he offers to let you sleep in his room. You’ve harbored a crush on him for some time so just being alone in his room is enough to excite you, leaving you unable to resist touching yourself.

warnings: HUGE age gap (reader is in their 20’s), masturbation, p in v, mild mdom/fsub, creampie

this is loosely based off of chappell roan’s “picture you”. the second i realized what it was about i was ✨inspired✨

You had been Stanford Pines’ research partner for a year and some change, although the actual amount of time you had spent in his company was only a little less than six months. Not long into working with him, he left to sail the open seas and travel the world with his brother, Stanley.

You stayed back, working in the lab and cataloging their findings on your computer. Your skills with technology complimented his total inept ability for anything made post-1982. He would call you- from the phone you painstakingly convinced him to get- excitedly sharing the news of his and Stan’s latest discoveries.

You weren’t totally by yourself during this period. You were once Stan’s employee before becoming Ford’s assistant, so when you ventured upstairs you had the company of your former coworkers. Wendy, an incredibly laid back teenager with a habit for shirking work, and Soos, previous handyman turned Mystery Shack owner. There was also Soos’s girlfriend, Melody, and his abuelita who would hand you home baked goods practically every morning as you walked in the front door.

Still, you missed Ford’s presence dearly. You secretly looked forward to his phone calls and eagerly awaited his return. Ever since you had met Ford two summers ago you were madly in love with him. Hell, before you even met you were drawn to him. Dipper would lend you journal 3 during your breaks when you were still working at the Mystery Shack. You read every page over and over, wondering who the author could be and what they looked like.

You watched Ford walk through the portal, shocked to discover that the Stanford Pines you thought was your boss had actually been impersonating the true Stanford, his twin and author of the journals. As he removed his goggles and hood you felt your face flush. Of all the ways you’d imagined the author to look, a silver fox was not one of them.

What should’ve been a happy reunion between brothers quickly turned into an altercation, interrupted by Mabel’s demand for answers as to just “what the heck” was going on. Ford, who had been distracted by his contempt for Stan, took notice of the other four in the basement: Dipper, Mabel, Soos, and you.

He looked everyone over, but when he reached you his gaze froze, a slight pink dusting his cheeks. He pulled out his journal, writing something down and every so often looking at you before stuffing it back in his trench coat pocket.

Between a lengthy backstory told by both brothers and an interruption by government agents, there wasn’t much room for introductions. After some quick thinking by both Dipper and Ford to use the memory gun to erase the agents’ memories of raiding the shack, Stan insisted you and Soos head home.

The following day you worked with Soos and Wendy to repair the damage of temporary gravitational insanity, when Ford ascended the stairs. He walked towards you, the same shade of pink returning to his cheeks when you met his gaze.

“I don’t believe I had the chance to properly introduce myself yesterday. I’m sure you remember my name, but just in case, I’m Stanford. Though please, call me Ford.”

“And you can call me y/n. So… you’re the mysterious author?”

He raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise.

“Wait, you’ve read my journals?”

“Only the third one, your nephew would let me read it every now and then.”

He gave a small smile. “I’m so flattered to know you take an interest in my work.”

“Are you kidding? You make this hick town actually interesting, a place worth living in!”

You and Ford had a pleasant conversation, discussing the various creatures of Gravity Falls at length. Eventually he excused himself, insisting his work must be attended to, but that he would be happy to have future discussions of the same nature. You went to return yourself to your own tasks when you heard a gravely laugh behind you. You turned to see Stan leaning against the doorframe. Had he been there the whole time?

“Heh, I don’t think I’ve ever seen sixer so interested in someone before. Hell, I’ve never seen YOU so into a guy and men practically flock to you.”

You gave a small laugh. “I think he was just happy to meet someone interested in his research.”

“Oh please, that’s all it takes. Just stroke his ego and he’s yours.”

“Oh no, I’m not-“

“Look, I know I’m a catch and he shares my good looks, so I get it. It’s hard to resist a face like ours and you’re a total nerd so clearly you were gonna fall for him.”

You went beet red. “No, seriously it’s not like that at all.”

He cackled. “Oh really? Cause your face ain’t hiding a thing, kid.”

Throughout the week, Ford would often come upstairs to continue your talks of creatures and cryptids. The second he left the room, Stan couldn’t resist winking and making an obnoxious sex gesture with his fingers.

Another day had passed and Ford once again approached you. You assumed to discuss the plaidypus or something, but instead he offered you a proposition.

“So, y/n, I’ve been mulling it over and I think I could use an assistant. Would you be interested?”

“I thought you told Dipper you wanted to work alone.”

“Because he’s just a child. You’re an adult and I believe you’re fully capable of handling the dark and dangerous side of Gravity Falls. Besides, I’m getting far too old to do this sort of thing myself.”

Ford seeing you as someone worth working alongside with felt like something to be proud of. From your interactions you sensed he didn’t trust easily. You were eager to accept when you remembered your obligations.

“I’d love to, but… I have to discuss it with Stan first. It’d be shitty to just quit on him without warning.”

He seemed to bristle at the mention of his brother, but was willing to put his feelings aside for you.

“I completely understand.”

Later that evening as your shift ended you turned to Stan.

“Hey, so listen, Ford asked me to work as his assistant. I know you guys have a touchy history, but I-“

He waved a hand. “It’s fine, kid. I figured this was coming. Me and him might not get along anymore, but I still want what’s best for him. Go for it. And hey, if you do hook up, just promise you’ll name the kid after me!” He winked.

Over a year had passed, the holiday season was well under way. Dipper and Mabel were staying over for the winter break, having just arrived the day before. You were busy with research in the lab when a startling EAS alarm blared from your phone. You picked it up, reading the notification.

“EMERGENCY ALERT

Dec. 16, 9:46 PM

Severe Blizzard Warning until Dec 17, 10 AM. Unsafe road conditions expected. Avoid travel.”

“Shit.” You groaned.

“What is it?” Ford asked.

“Looks like we’re in for a snowstorm. I’m gonna head upstairs and see if I can still get out of here.”

You ascended the staircase and poked your head out the front door only to be greeted with a massive blanket of snow and thick flakes falling in droves. The lower half of your car was completely buried, tires no longer visible. Welp, you were stuck.

Normally this would’ve been less than ideal, but as you stared out at the enormous layer of freshly fallen snow you couldn’t help the feeling of your heart pounding excitedly at your chest. Possibilities swarmed in your head of what could happen while spending a night with Ford. You turned to head back downstairs when the telltale high pitched voice of Mabel piped up.

“Did you see all the snow? Hey, how are you gonna get home?”

“They’re probably not Mabel, it’d be suicide heading out in this weather.” Dipper said, nose buried in a book.

“Ooooo, we should have a sleepover! We could stay up doing each other’s makeup, painting our nails, watching holiday movi- WAIT WAIT WAAAAAAIT!!! This could be your chance! You could finally tell Grunkle Ford how you feel!” Mabel beamed up at you, face alight with excitement.

“How did you- I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You lied.

“Pfft, yeah you do! I found your love letter to him in the trash! It was soooo romantic, I don’t get why you threw it out.” Mabel said.

“Hey! That was private!” You scolded.

“Don’t worry, she did that to me too.” Dipper sighed.

“Either way, I know there’s something between you two! Nothing like a little snowstorm as the perfect nudge to make sparks fly.” Mabel said, playfully elbowing you at the word “nudge”.

You shook your head and trudged down the stairs. Ford studied your face, trying to determine the situation by your expression.

“How is it?” He inquired.

“Not good, there’s no way I can drive in this weather.” You huffed, feigning disappointment.

“Ah, I see. Well, the house is rather full at the moment, so there’s not a spare room. The only thing I can think of is the living room recliner, but I wouldn’t exactly recommend it. It’s not really designed for sleeping.”

He paused, looking nervous before offering his suggestion.

“I suppose you could… stay in my room. I finally added a proper bed, so I can take the couch. I- if you don’t mind, I don’t want to impose.”

Your heart did a backflip.

“I’m okay with that.” You said, doing your best to act calm.

After about an hour and a half of work you finally felt yourself getting tired. You yawned, struggling to keep your eyes open. Ford noticed immediately.

“Ready to call it a night?” He asked.

“Nnnmn, yeah I suppose.” You mumbled sleepily.

“Alright, I’ll show you to my room.”

He led you up the stairs and down the hall, opening the door. A long red couch, a queen bed, and a stained glass window were the main points of interest.

“As I previously stated, the bed is yours.” He said, gesturing towards it.

You sat on the bed.

“Thanks for this, Ford.”

He gave a small chuckle. “Well, I’m not about to let you brave a storm like that. You’re my favorite assistant and far too important for me to lose.”

You blushed at the idea of being “important” to him and his “favorite”.

“Aren’t I your only assistant?” You ribbed.

He laughed softly. “Fair enough.”

He looked down at you and his face gave the impression that he wanted to say something important.

“Y/n, I-“ He paused, stopping himself.

“Yeah?”

He shook his head. “Never mind… Okay then, I’ll let you get some slee- oh wait a minute, you don’t have any clothes to sleep in, do you?”

You shook your head.

“I figured as much. I can’t imagine being in jeans all night would be comfortable. Let me see what I can do.”

He rummaged around in his dresser, pulling out an old BMU t-shirt and forest green running shorts.

“I haven’t touched these since college. They’ll be a bit big on you, but hopefully they should suffice.” He said, handing them to you.

“Alright, well, I’m going to finish up things in the lab for another hour or so. Let me know if you need anything.” He said, closing the door behind him.

You took off your clothes and bra, putting on the shirt and shorts and looking at yourself in the mirror. Wearing his clothes was way more arousing than it should be. You laid back on the bed, sighing. Every second you spent with Ford was akin to torture. You wanted him- needed him so bad. He was nearly 40 years your senior, but you always fancied older men. Something about that salt and pepper hair and having more experience than men your age was incredibly appealing to you.

Given Ford’s years in other dimensions you would’ve thought that the latter wasn’t the case for him. However, he had admitted to you after a liberal amount of drinks the night he came home from traveling the world that he hadn’t been entirely alone in those three decades. He ended his statement mumbling in embarrassment that he had still never been with another human.

Your mind was flooded with thoughts of all 12 of Ford’s fingers on you, him eating you out, and fucking you in every position known to man, some only known in other dimensions. You slipped your hand underneath the shorts and your panties. You gathered the wetness from between the lips of your pussy on your finger and dragged it up to stroke your already throbbing clit. It wouldn’t take you long, just touching yourself in his room heavy with the scent of him was turning you on so much. God, how you loved his scent, you would find any excuse to be close to him just to take it in.

You were close, you rubbed yourself furiously as you felt yourself just about to tip over the edge. You pulled the shirt up, squeezing one of your breasts. At that exact moment the door swung open, Ford stood in the doorway.

“Sorry, y/n, I forgot to- oh my.”

You moaned softly, too caught up in your own pleasure to hear his baritone voice.

“Oh god, Ford.” You whimpered.

Ford turned as red as his sweater and gave an incredibly audible clearing of his throat. Your eyes opened, you gasped as you met Ford’s gaze. You quickly snapped your hand up and pulled the shirt down to cover your breasts.

“AH! NO WAIT! IT- IT’S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!” You squeaked.

He stared at you in silence for a few seconds before speaking.

“Were you… moaning my name?”

You looked away, your embarrassment making you want to spontaneously combust. There was no way of talking yourself out of this one.

You blurted out an apology. “I’m so sorry! I seriously thought you weren’t coming in here for an hour!“

“No, no, it’s okay. You just surprised me. I wasn’t expecting this, not from someone as young and as gorgeous as you.” He said.

He shut the door behind him and crossed the room to stand next to you. You looked up at him.

“Y- you think I’m-“

He took your face in his hand, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“Gorgeous? Of course I do, anyone with eyes can see that. When I first saw you that day after finally coming back to our dimension you were such a sight for sore eyes.”

“Ford, I- you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say something like that.”

“And you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to have you in my bed like this.”

“You wouldn’t believe half of the things I’ve done picturing you.”

He chuckled. “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

He leaned in, kissing you deeply. His hand traveled underneath the shorts to your wetness.

“Oh stars, you were close to orgasming when I walked in, weren’t you?”

You nodded sheepishly.

“Well then,” he purred “don’t stop on my account.”

He removed his hand from you, shrugging his trench coat off his shoulders and pulling his sweater over his head. He loosened his belt and unzipped his pants, sliding them off of his legs and letting them fall to the floor. His boxers barely contained his hardened cock, you could see a glimpse of it through the slit. He slid them off and they joined his pants on the floor. You bit your lip, he noticed you staring.

“D- do you like it? I’ve never been with a human, so I have no idea if it’s satisfactory.”

You laughed. “Oh I think you’ll be more than satisfactory.”

He leaned down again to kiss you.

“Let me see you, all of you.” He cooed.

You sat up and lifted the vintage shirt off of you, he eyed you in pure hunger.

“My goodness, your breasts are perfect.”

You laid back and hooked your thumbs in both the waistband of the shorts and your panties, sliding them off. Ford got onto the bed. The sight of your dripping pussy was too much to stop himself, came in close dragged his tongue along your wetness.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist, I had to taste you. God, your scent and taste are incredible, just the pure essence of sex.”

He moved to sit on his knees at the foot of the bed.

“Now, sweet girl, pick up where you left off.” He said.

You didn’t need to be told twice, returning your hand between your thighs.

“Good girl.”

“Fuck, I love being called that.” You whimpered.

He chuckled. “I always suspected you had a thing for praise.”

His hand found his cock and he began to stroke himself to you. If being in Ford’s room was enough to make you cum fast, him touching himself to you was going to do you over in half the time. You worked your fingers quickly, electricity pulsing through you. Ford watched intently.

“Are you close, princess? Already?”

“Mmmnn, I can’t help it with you watching me and stroking your huge cock like that.” You moaned.

He blushed a deep scarlet.

“H- huge?”

“Massive. Like I said, more than satisfactory.” You smirked.

Your breathing quickened, your body shook, your moans became louder.

“Good girl, that’s it. Cum for me.” He coaxed.

Your head sunk into the pillow as you came hard, moaning and swearing like a sailor. Ford watched you intently.

“God I’ve wanted to see you like this for so long, you look so perfect in a post-orgasm glow.”

Ford got on top of you, kissing you passionately.

“Ready?” He said softly.

“Please.” You begged.

He slowly slipped himself inside you, you winced and moaned at the sensation of his thick cock.

“Are you alright? You’re squeezing me so hard.” Ford asked.

“Y- yeah, just give me second to adjust.”

He kissed you and gave you time to ease up around him.

“Dear moses, even when you’re relaxed you’re still so tight. I’m going to start moving, tell me if it feels like too much. Okay?”

You nodded and he began to thrust softly.

“Oh god, human pussy feels incredible, y- you feel incredible.” He moaned.

“Ever since you told me you’d never been with a human I wanted so badly to change that.”

“I longed to have you as my first, but I never imagined it would happen. I thought it would be nothing more than a foolish pipe dream of an equally foolish old man. I’ve always been incredibly attracted to you, not simply for your beauty, but because you compliment me so well. We make a good team. I would trade all of the stars in the known universe and beyond for just a second of being in your presence. Out of all the creatures I have seen, you are by far the most enchanting, the most captivating.”

“Ugh, how am I supposed to top you saying something as beautifully Shakespearean as that?” You huffed.

“It’s alright, just the feeling of being inside you is far more poetic than anything I’ve ever read.”

You laced your fingers in his hair and pulled him into a kiss. He sat on his knees, lifting up your hips and putting a pillow under your ass, throwing your legs over his shoulders.

“What’s the pillow for?”

“It’ll increase pleasure to the Gräfenberg spot.”

“The what?”

He chuckled. “The g-spot, love. Here, this will only make things better.”

He slipped a hand between your thighs, stroking your clit. He began to move again, holy fuck he was right, this felt amazing.

“Ohhhh jesus, Ford.”

“Yes that’s it, your pleasure is all I want.”

His free hand found your waist, gripping it.

“H- harder, please.” You whimpered.

“You have to earn it. Beg for me.”

“P- please fuck me harder, sir. Make me cum all over you. I need it, I need it so badly.”

“Sir? That’s my good girl, how could I not oblige?”

His grip on your waist tightened and he began to move himself at a blinding pace. The bed creaked and shook, the headboard slamming against the wall. You tightened around him.

“God, you’re getting so wet and tight. Are you close?”

“Uh huh.” You panted.

“I’m getting there too. I’m going to let you cum, but you have to promise that you’ll cum with me. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So obedient, such behavior needs to be rewarded.”

His fingers began to move as fast as his thrusts.

“I’m going to cum, sweet girl. Will you let me cum inside you?”

You nodded.

“Use your words, princess.”

“P- please.”

He stopped.

“Please, what?”

“Please, sir.”

“Good girl.”

He resumed his brutal pace. You felt a pressure within you explode and you arched your back, cumming around his cock. The feeling of you undid him. He let go of your clit, both hands gripping your waist to pull you against him and bury his cock fully inside you down to the hilt. He came an ungodly amount inside of you, it spilled out and dripped onto the bed.

“Oh god, I love you!” You moaned.

He looked down at you, his face bright red. You froze, that was an inside thought.

“You- you love me?”

“I- I- ah, uh-“ you took a deep breath. “Yes, since the day I met you.”

He kissed you passionately.

“I love you too. I was so drawn to you from the very beginning. My feelings developed when you told me you read my journals. Hearing you talk so passionately about the weird and unusual, I knew I had met a true kindred soul, my twin flame.”

Ford pulled out and laid beside you, pulling you to him with your back pressed against his chest, his arm around you.

“This was not how I was expecting my night to turn out, but I’m so glad it did.” He mumbled into your neck.

You smiled. “Never thought I’d be so happy to be snowed in.”

You lay in silence, drifting off until you felt something hard and warm press against your ass. Ford moved himself down, his head between your thighs.

“Ready to go again, princess?”

[to-trek-or-not-to-trek]

TOS Characters as Oddly Specific College Students

Kirk: Frat bro who approaches you when you're sitting alone in the corner at a party, and at first you think he's going to be a dick, but then he actually shows concern?? for your well-being??? and you later find out he's in like 15 volunteering clubs and it makes a little bit more sense.

Spock: That one kind of bitchy TA who's working on his post doc and doesn't have time for you to not understand Stoichiometry, he's got real problems.

McCoy: The equally bitchy lab assistant who's got beef with the TA for some reason, even though you've seen them willingly hanging out around campus.

Scotty: That one guy in your dorm who jerry rigs two mini fridges and a microwave together to charge his homemade laptop. At least he hasn't burnt anything down yet.

Uhura: Impeccable girl with flawless notes and A-game outfits EVERY class, which is especially confusing because you're pretty sure she's a computer science linguistics double major?? hello??? does she sleep??

Chekov: That one guy who always kind of fucks around, and one day he accidentally sets off the fire alarm and evacuates his whole dorm, and he feels really bad about it.

Sulu: That one gay guy in the second row of your lecture with outfit goals and such a wicked sense of humor that makes you actually want to come to class.

[rbbrbikerthorp]

A Tribute To Helmets

I grew up during the Apollo space missions, and whilst I didn't show a particular interest in NASA's exploits, I received a kid's space suit and helmet as a present. I vividly recall how different things sounded when I put the helmet over my head. I think that was the point when my kinky fascination for helmets began.

From my childhood, I remember watching an episode of the early Flash Gordon series (in monochrome) where Ming places a helmet on the head of one of his dissenting subordinates. Once the helmet was strapped on, the man became compliant, passive and drone-like.

At that moment I realised that something designed for safety and protection could also have very nefarious uses. Combined with visual and audio stimulation, the helmet could also contain electronic circuitry that can disrupt the natural processes in the brain. Helmets could also contain syringes, which can deliver chemicals and other substances directly into the head to suppress and indivual's throughts.

So here is my AI tribute to the Helmet, and how, when placed on the head it can strip away emotion, knowledge, purpose and individuality.

This man in his early twenties was just starting out in life. He had dreams of being successful, having the perfect suburban life - wife, kids and the kind of home people dream of. He had just agreed to join a multinational conglomerate, and as part of his induction he was required to take a medical. So on the appropriate day at the specifed time he turns up for what he thought would be a routine appointment.

On arrival, he was taken into a private room. He was asked to disrobe and was given a set of leathers and boots to wear, which, despite all his reservations he put on.

Once the leathers were zipped up and boots were on his feet, he was escorted to a room where a lab assistant placed a full-face helmet onto his head. He was then taken into a room filled with tech and video screens. The technician typed some commands into a computer and the helmet activated.

Isolated wearing the helmet, he was subjected to audio and visual stimulation; stripping away his own throughts and identity. Replacing it with a predetermined 'template', which the company would deploy as necessary. Thoughts of family, kids and friends replaced with absolute loyalty to the company.

'Physical' completed, the company has deployed him 'into the field'. Now a biker, his primary objective is to ride around and recruit candidates to join the company.

Meanwhile...

Some scientists are about to record the disruptive effects of their advanced helmets on three 'volunteers'. Once the helmets are fitted the volunteers will follow instructions and head to drone processing.

Elsewhere, two cyclists have been given new 'aerodynamic' helmets for a week to try.

Affixed to their heads, they will have no desire to ever remove their helmets - ever.

Sticking with a sport theme, the new coach has provided the team with revolutionary and technologically advanced helmets. These not only offer superior protection to the head, but also allow the coach a direct interface into the players' minds. It's going to be a successful season for this team.

There are worried faced amongst this army platoon - and they should be worried.

They will follow the General's orders to place the helmet on their heads. When they do their individual thoughts will become suppressed as they turn into droned soldiers. No more briefings, no reliance on old technology like radio transmissions, which can be hacked into by the enemy. The helmet will ensure all orders issued by the commanders are transmitted directly into their brains.

There are changes afoot in civilian life too. A new force for law and order is being created. One by one members of the police force are invited to undergo a routine medical.

Soon they will all be fitted with helmets; permanently connecting them directly to the company network, with orders transmitted directly into their brains.

There is to be a zero tolerance of crime - even minor misdemeanors. So they begin to 'clean up the streets'.

Chavs and scallies are rounded up and each one is fitted with a helmet...

Once the work of the helmet is done, a new 'drone' is sent out onto the streets as a 'recruiter' for the company.

They're also recruiting in colleges and universities...

And back in the boardroom, the executives are monitoring progress of the company's plan.

Each member of the so-called 'C-suite' has been given a helmet to allow speedier decision making and negate the need for laptops, smartphones and video screens. Directly connected to the company's network through their helmet, they follow the instructions fed directly into their brains - following them to the letter. After all each helmet ensures they are exemplary servants of the company.

Hope you enjoyed my AI tribute to the helmet. Depending on the feedback I might do a second helmet blog.

Oh, in case you were wondering which is my favourite helmet, it's my Arai Corser, pictured below.

[spideesenses]

Heat → Miguel O’Hara

pairing: miguel o’hara x afab!reader

warnings: smut! MDNI! there’s no piv, just dry (wet) hmping. dom!miguel. panty fcking. light degrading. mentions of menstrual cycle.

prompt: Miguel doesn’t take his rapture serum, letting his more animalistic tendencies surface.

note: this has been my brainrot for several days now bc my bf did it to me and i😵‍💫 please practice safe & clean sex! you can mess up your pH balance especially with something like this, so please make sure you know the proper aftercare. love u

He could smell you. The scent of your wet slick between your thighs sent him in a frenzy, not to mention that you were ovulating. So this intense wave of horniness would hit you randomly. You’d been trying so hard to concentrate on the mission report that Jess was delivering, squeezing your thighs to gain some friction.

As Jess wrapped up the mission report, Miguel dismissed everyone. Everyone except for you. A wave of panic shot through you. You knew there was better choices to be made during the mission, but was it worth getting reprimanded for?

“What is this about?” you spoke softly, stepping forward. The release of your tightened thighs only released the scent of your dripping pussy even more so. As you stepped closer, the scent filled his nostrils and he had to stop his eyes from rolling back.

“You were helping Lyla reproduce my rampage serum earlier this week.” Miguel finally spoke after what seemed like an eternity. He wasn’t asking, he was stating the fact. So you were unsure what he wanted from you.

“Yeah, you had me stay back from a mission because I was feeling unwell.” you period was so crippling that day. You still wanted to make an impact so you asked Miguel for an alternative project to work on. “Is there a problem?”

The question made him chuckle dryly. You felt her pulse at the sound. That, you couldn’t help. He turned giving you what seemed like a grin. A sadistic grin.

“When you updated the inventory,” he waved his hand and a computer monitor came up. Video footage of you storing 6 vials into his cabinet pulled up. You had turned in your rolling chair to lean over as you went to fill out the fields on the computer.

Your name

The date

The serums you were making updates to

The quantity

You squinted your eyes at the footage. Oh. Seemingly enough, you had fatfingered an extra number on the file and saved it carelessly before exiting the lab.

“I was under the impression that I had another 10 vials to last me before I had to make more. I actually would have asked you to assist me in that again, but because of your mistake,” he swiped his hand again, making the video feed disappear and taking a step closer to you, making you instinctively back up. “I am all out.” he wasted no time grabbing you by the neck, forcing you to look up at him. “Do you understand what that means cariño?”

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, wincing as his grip on your throat tightened. You reached up to grab his wrist, giving it a squeeze.

He ignored your apology. “And while Lyla is scrambling to make a new batch, I have sit here and smell you.” if his teeth wasn’t dripping with venom, his voice was. This didn’t help your problem. You could feel the wetness collecting at the crotch of your suit. The way he was manhandling you? Scolding you as a means to humiliate you? He took a whiff of the air once more, blinking a few times before narrowing his eyes at you. “Is this- Are you getting aroused by this?” you didn’t have to answer, he could smell it.

Due to his lack of rampage, his senses seemed to have heightened. He was more aware, he had to be. He was like an animal released in the wild with no limits to his terrain.

He needed you just as much as you needed him. He’d take you as quickly as he could, oh but he knew it would take patience. As mean and broody as he was, he was still a gentleman, when he wanted to be. Images of you being manhandled, moaning with him touching every inch of your body. He blinked a few times realizing you were using your powers on him. You could project thoughts into ones mind.

“Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.” he nuzzled his face into your neck, peppering kisses there. Miguel teasingly dragged his fangs against the soft skin at your neck, making you whimper.

“Don’t stop,” you huffed out. Your sexual frustrations were agonizing, body heating up quickly as your dripping slick grew warmer. The sounds that were coming from you reminded Miguel of the sounds that a prey would make when it was caught. The primal instinct was to bite you, mark you as his territory.

A sweet little moan escaped passed your lips. Miguel looked down and seen your thumbs caressing your nipple through your suit. He could see the hardened mound, how painful it looked. The thought of you pleasuring yourself underneath him would have been more than okay… if he wasn’t feeling territorial.

Miguel flicked your hand away, grasping your breast in his free hand, his other still tightly around your throat. He palmed over your sensitive bud, the feeling of a more calloused hand over your boob feeling sensational. You didn’t care how needy your mewls had sounded, you were unbelievably turned on out of your mind. Whatever he was willing to give you, you would take. The moans falling passed your lips were caught with his.

You would occasionally buck your hips into his, emitting a growl as he lightly bit your bottom lip. You needed friction. Anything to relieve the growing pain. With control, you bucked your hips slowly, making sure to drag the pool of wetness onto his suit. You’d let out a breathless ‘heh’ as you felt him through his suit.

Oh and he could feel you alright. The one stroke alone had left a wet on his suit. He quickly commanded for his suit to disappear and he was suddenly bare in front of you.

He was mouthwateringly gorgeous. His chiseled chest through his suit was a masterpiece. And now that it was bare right in front of you? He looked too delicious to be consumed. His waist was slim in comparison to his chest, yet bulky and defined. His happy trail lead down to something that you would consider very happy to see you. It wasn’t just the girth that intimidated you, it was the length as well. How the hell was he going to fit that in you without breaking you or tearing you in half?

He wasted no time in tearing at the crotch of your suit.

“Hey!” you whined. You’d made your own suit. You were actually one of the only spider people without an upgraded suit. The first version of your suit was your now ruined suit.

“I’ll program you another suit princesa,” he panted, gasping as your silky red underwear came into view. Though the wet patch of your underwear presented a more maroon color. He lifted you up on his desk, pushing his keyboard and mouse off in the process. He bent down, taking a whiff of your clothed, soaked pussy.

His eyes glossed over crimson. Miguel wasn’t even sure if he had ever been this aroused before. Maybe it was because he couldn’t remember a damn day where he was out of his serum. He pressed your lips together in a hard kiss, jerking his hips forward so the leaky tip of his cock would press against your puffy clit.

“M’gonna fuck you with your panties on,” he mumbled against your lips. He guided his cock underneath your panties, collecting the wetness from your crying pussy. The tightness of your underwear was enough to keep his cock firmly pressed against your slit.

You bucked your hips eagerly, whimpering as the feeling of his cock against your pussy stimulated the most sensitive part of you. He switched hands; one resumed its position at the base of your neck, pinning you down on his desk and the other held your thigh as it was hiked over his hip.

Miguel rutted his hips, letting out a sigh of relief. Although it wasn’t the inside of your plush, wet heat, this would do. The scent of you enveloped him and he could only imagine what your velvety walls would feel like fluttering around him.

“More, please.” you begged, tears brimming your eyes as you could feel yourself wanting more than just the slow rolling of the hips.

“Oh,” Miguel pursed his lips, looking down at you. “Look at you so desperate for my cock.” he was talking down on you again, making your jaw fall slack as he slowly picked up the pace, stimulating your clitoris a little more.

The sounds that were coming from the underside of his cock rubbing against your wet slit were pornographic almost. Slosh, slosh, slosh. If he could drown in your puddles of wetness, he’d be all in you every second of everyday.

“Cock hungry and I haven’t even been inside of you,” he coo’d. He drew his hips back, the tip of his cock slipping past your folds. Miguel’s eyes locked onto yours as he gently prodded past your pussy lips.

At this point, it was like you were the animal. Bucking your hips in desperation, tears spilling from your eyes as you pleaded - as you begged him to break you. He could take you however he wanted, he could make it hurt, you just needed him.

“You’re gonna shut up and take what I give you, like the slut you are. Do you understand me?” his voice was stern enough to pull you from your cock drunk state. You nodded your head. “Use your words, princesa.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes sir,” you answered before he shoved his fingers into your mouth, to which you suckled on with joy.

“That’s my good girl,” he gave you positive reinforcement. Slowly begin to move his hips again, only this time he had his thumb placed on top of the fabric of your panties, so he could keep the placement of his cock over your clit.

His pace was unforgiving. The sound of you begging so desperately for his cock echoing. The image of you crying over not being fucked was glued to the back of his eyelids. You were so cock drunk already, it made him wonder how long you’d been thinking about him fucking you.

Images of you fucking yourself with your fingers, free hand pinching your nipple while moaning his name popped up in his head. Here you were, projecting images into his head once more. As he’s fucking you through your panties, he can feel the grip of your mouth releasing his fingers. Your mouth was ajar as he pistoned his hips against yours, your moans and his grunts filling the room.

“Fuck, Miguel,” you moaned, your hand capturing your breast. “Please, can I come?”

How obedient. Still asking him permission after he told you to take whatever it was he was giving. How much were you wrapped around his finger?

“Yeah baby, you can come. Come for me,” he leaned over, mumbling into your ear, his teeth grazing over the shell of your ear. “Come on, be a good girl for me.” hearing that made you whimper in his ear as you released the knot that was forming in your stomach.

“Fuu-“ you whined, arching your back against him. Your walls clenched around nothing, wishing you could milk him for every drop. You felt your body convulse as euphoria took over you, your cheeks flushed red as your legs shook around Miguel. He could feel your hard nipples on his bare chest. In the frenzy you were in, he had no idea how you were even coherent enough to reach down between you two. Your hand kept his cock in place while your thumb circled around his sensitive tip.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head. He imagined the softness of your hands being as soft as you were on the inside as he pounded you. His hips began to stammer as he released his load into your panties, with a guttural moan. His hips slowed and he rested his forehead against yours.

You could feel how heavy your panties were. They were slicked down from the wetness of your pussy, and now they were filled with Miguel’s cum.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,” Miguel muttered.

“Huh?” he heard Jess’ voice in confusion.

He blinked and suddenly Jess, Peter, and you surrounded him. Just as you did during the mission report. Jess and Peter were confused to say the least, but not you.

Your smug grin confirmed Miguel’s thoughts. You had been using your powers to project your sexual fantasies in his head.

“Ay coño,” he whispered under his breath. “I’m gonna fucking kill her.”