#OOF SORRY NO NEED TO MATCH LENGTH

[icantlose]

@thebastardmeteocrusherpilot​ || continued from [x]

Wolf’s expression perfectly demonstrates his feelings of uneasiness about the birthday gift Galaxicos had just given him. Mind inundated, clouding up with conflicting emotions as he looks at the colorful Easter egg collar in his hand. Humor regularly plays an important role in his dangerous and often stress-filled life; he finds laughter to be quite the powerful tool in fact. A good leader knows that the right joke can ease tension, disarm conflict, boost morale and strengthen one’s bond with his team mates, and for Wolf especially, a good joke just makes being both the leader of Star Wolf and the Lord of Sargasso a little more enjoyable. Through the danger and uncertain challenges that come with his line of work, Wolf has learned to stop taking himself too seriously -- perhaps as a survival technique. The lupine’s sense of humor is as sharp as his claws and he’s always had a soft spot for stupid, silly jokes. Normally, an Easter-themed gift would be right up his alley: if it were a hat, a shirt, or anything else, the entire room would be echoing with his genuinely infectious laughter. 

But alas, the captain of Venom’s famous Meteo Crusher has made the wrong move and chose to give him a collar of all things.  As Wolf holds the Easter-themed collar in his hand, he can feel the weight of the situation bear down on him. He knows that Galaxicos's gift is not simply a playful joke, but a pointed message about the power dynamic between the two men. Wolf can almost hear the chimp's silent message behind the gift, a message that speaks volumes about his prejudice against canines. He adjusts his grip and he swears that the otherwise light object feels heavy in his hand, like a physical manifestation of the weight of the older man’s deep hatred. This was never  supposed to be a silly birthday gift... It was always a symbol of Galaxicos's attempt to display power over Wolf. 

He tries to push aside the weight of the collar and the message it carries, but it's difficult. He can feel a white-hot rage building inside him as he contemplates the deeper meaning behind the gift. Galaxicos may have thought he was being clever, but to Wolf, the collar is a challenge to his autonomy and a reflection of the chimp's hatred towards him. Aaron Galaxico’s strange need to always be on top, to always win against Wolf is as palpable as the weight of the collar in his hand. The boiling anger continues to rage inside of the Lord of Sargasso as he recalls the time Galaxicos whipped him in the face with his crop, the searing pain that left a permanent scar, hidden only by his scruffy fur... And of course, there’s Fara. Wolf chooses to interpret Galaxicos's advances towards Fara as a deliberate attack on Wolf himself; as if the chimp sees her as a way to prove that he can take anything that Wolf cares about because he sees the Star Wolf leader as nothing but scum beneath his boot. Surely the chimpanzee doesn’t really care about Fara's happiness or feelings, because she’s a fox... Right? So many different emotions swirl around in his head and the white-hot fury coursing through Wolf is palpable and dangerous, his muscles tensing and coiling like a tightly-wound spring. Galaxicos's patronizing chuckles fuel the flames of rage, stoking them higher and higher until they threaten to consume him entirely. Until, in a sudden burst of energy, Wolf's fist lashes out like a missile, hurtling towards Galaxicos's crotch with a satisfying thwack. It’s almost if the universe itself has paused to witness the violent outburst. The other party goers and patrons of the bar stand frozen in shock, their eyes wide and mouths agape. Some of them seem surprised, as if they hadn't expected Wolf to lash out so suddenly. Others are clearly frightened, their faces contorted in terror as they scramble to get as far away from the chaos as possible. A few brave souls inch closer, perhaps curious to see what will happen next, but most of them keep their distance, watching from safety with a mix of awe and horror.

“Happy fuckin’ Easter.” Bitter words crack through the silence like ice as Wolf grips the collar tightly in his hand, feeling the object’s weight shrink in his grip as he reels from the anger that has been building up inside him for so long. His eye locks onto Galaxicos's form and suddenly, Wolf tosses the collar at Galaxicos with a force that sends it flying across the room. The sound of the collar’s buckle hitting the floor echoes through the bar, before once again settling the party into silence as everyone stares at the two of them.

[shhhsecretsideblog]

I was your lamaze instructor at a local gym. Both of us hit it off and we became good friends, and bonded over how we both got pregnant around the same time.

You asked if I could give a private lesson as you were a bit scared of birthing and wanted to know everything on how to reduce the pain by trying birth positions so I gladly say yes.

As I was setting up on the third floor with no one around us, and I was breathing deeply as the elevator broke and had to walk all those stairs. I turn around and see you waddling widely, breaking a sweat.

"Sorry, I meant to text but my phone just died." I said. You told me it was alright and we headed towards the yoga mats and balls.

"Now, let's get on our hands and knees. I want you to breathe in and out like this." You copy my movements and breathe slowly as I coached. I suddenly hear you moan out of the blue and look at you, worried.

"Just the baby kicking. Carry on." I nod my head as we progressed on different positions. We both started fidgeting uncontrollably from the pressure from our hips.

"Now- why don't we sit on the balls and spread our legs, and just sway side to- oof- side" I said, wincing from the pain on my back.

You rub your belly and closed your eyes, releasing a sigh.

"That's it, just relieve all the tension you have." I said, moving my hips widely as the pressure wasn't going away.

"I think those stairs really did a number on meeeeee-" You gasped at the end, feeling a pop sensation in your one piece yoga suit as we both saw your water break.

I look back at you as we realized that we've been in labor all morning.

"Oh no."

Sitting on the yoga ball and circling my hips was doing wonders for the pain that had been plaguing me all morning. Everything had hurt; my back, my hips, my cervix, my boobs. As well as preparing me for labour I was also using this class as a way to relieve some of the nagging tension and pressure that I’d not been able to get rid of.

As we both bounced lightly on our yoga balls, my belly and breasts squished tight into my jersey one-piece with thigh-length shorts, the pressure wasn’t going away and just kept building and building. I widened my legs and circled my hips and suddenly the pressure released along with the splashing sound of liquid hitting the plastic yoga ball.

“Ohhhhhh oh my god I think my water just b-broke…” I groaned, staying oddly still atop the ball as I look down at the damp fabric between my legs.

When you didn’t respond I looked up to see you rocking rather frantically on your ball, your face pink and flushed, and you were panting heavily.

“Are you in labour?!?!” I cry out, just as another cramp pulls my insides down.

You’re my friend as well as my instructor and I feel a need to go to help you. I slide off the ball and land on my knees and crawl across the floor to where you were grunting and moaning and rocking on the ball.

“I-I think I need to p-push…” you growled, your eyes wide with panic.

“No! You can’t be r-ready to push… already.” I panted, ignoring the weight and pressure between my legs that only got worse when the word “push” was uttered.

But you were lost to your own bodily instincts and were holding your breath and bearing down, your hands clasped at your wide knees as you pushed. The sound of your pushing triggered my own pregnant body to respond, as if your birthing noises matched my own labour. Stuck on all fours at your side my head dropped and my hips sunk backwards as my uterus clenched and pushed the massive baby down down down.

I could already feel the baby behind my lips, just inside of me and desperate to be born. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything other than submit to the uncontrollable.

With my clothing still on and my body stuck on all fours, the baby began to part my folds and crown slowly into my underwear. The elasticated fabric was like a second skin all over my torso and upper legs, following every inch and curve, and I was certain the shape of the baby’s head was surely visible as I bore down with everything I had.

[in the mood to write more little inconvenient birth drabbles like this, send me more prompts please!]

[propertyofkylar]

kinktober day 15: crossdressing (m!robin x gn!pc)

word count: 1014

tags/warnings: crossdressing, riding, penetrative sex, some gender fuckery wrt dirty talk ig, robin haters DNI i would die for this man

“Okay, you can open your eyes now,” Robin’s voice came from behind you. The noise was so startling after several minutes of nothing but the rustling of clothes that you actually jumped. 

“Sorry,” you apologized, opening your eyes and spinning around to see. But what you saw made you catch your breath.

Your handsome boyfriend was clad in a frilly dress with matching bow, down to his lacy socks and mary jane shoes he had borrowed from you. Robin’s face was red, and his arms awkwardly hung at his sides while he looked away. “I look stupid, don’t I? I’ll go take it off and put my normal clothes back on…”

But you caught his arm before he could go anywhere. “No, no,” you said quickly, eyes darting over him hungrily. “You look…beautiful.”

Robin blinked, a small smile growing on his face. “Do you mean that?”

You nodded, drinking him in. Robin looked like…well, he looked like a girl. His rosy, blushing cheeks only added to the look. If you put some mascara on him and slapped a bow in his short hair, no one would be able to know the difference. “Robin, I mean this wholeheartedly. You look absolutely incredible. Seriously, I think you were meant to dress like this.”

He was grinning widely now, and so flustered and shy he couldn’t even look at you. It made Robin even cuter in your eyes. And whether it was the way he looked entirely different now or something else…you also found it incredibly arousing.

“Seriously,” you licked your lips and took a step closer to him, gesturing for him to twirl. And he did compliantly. “You look so…ngh. I can’t describe it.”

Robin gave you a sly look, clearly catching on to what you meant. “Maybe I should dress this way all the time, then – oof!”

He was cut off by you tackling him onto his bed, straddling his skirt-clad waist. Clearly you weren’t the only one enjoying this, because the front of the dress was tented, a tiny damp spot forming at its peak. You grinned and Robin blushed again.

“Sorry,” he said awkwardly. “It just…feels good to be dressed like this, I guess.”

“Don’t apologize,” you replied, petting his head. “My pretty girl.”

With that, Robin crashed his lips into yours, kissing you passionately and wrapping his arms around you. You matched his energy, your teeth and tongues clashing while you hiked up his skirt to reveal his pretty cock, covered in lace panties. You pulled away to, quite frankly, stare at the sight below you.

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” Robin giggled shyly, turning pink again. “I thought the underwear would really help me feel the full effects…”

And oh, what a sight it was. The lace was darkened slightly where Robin’s cock was practically leaking precum, the cock itself bulging out of the panties that clearly were not meant to hold something like that. To put it simply, it was incredibly appetizing.

“Robin, I’m sorry,” you apologized, quickly shedding your own bottoms. “But I need to fuck you, like, yesterday.”

He giggled with excitement as you tugged down those panties, his red, hard cock springing to its full length. You stroked his shaft a couple of times, Robin whining and burying his face in your hands as you did so. He whispered your name, his voice sounding shaky and hoarse. “P-please,” he said. “I…I want you.”

Looking the way he did right now, Robin could have asked for the world, and you would find a way to give it to him. So really, having your way with him was nothing, in the grand scheme of things. You tugged at his skirt, but he shook his head. 

“No…I wanna leave this on,” he said softly. That only turned you on even further. And so, positioning yourself over his hips, you slowly sank down onto his cock, moaning his name.

“Feel s’good,” you groaned. “Wan’ you to fill me up with your pretty cock…”

Robin hissed as you rolled your hips on him, grabbing your waist. “F-fuck.”

“You’re so pretty,” you moaned as you began to bounce on his cock. “You’re the prettiest girl I know, Robin.”

He whimpered at your praise, digging his fingers into your skin. “More,” Robin whispered.

You continued to shower him with praise as you rode him. “Such a good girl,” you told him as he filled you up with his cock. “You feel so fucking good inside me.”

Robin thrust his hips up in tandem with yours as the wet sound of skin slapping skin filled the bedroom, along with both of your breathy moans. “Oh, god,” Robin groaned.

You rode him faster and faster as your peak neared. “I’m so close,” you whimpered. “Gonna cum on your cock.”

And your climax hit with you crying out Robin’s name, walls clenching down on his thick cock.

“You feel…so good…” Robin panted, a light sheen of sweat covering his forehead. He wasn’t as good with words during sex as you were, but it was still endearing and always turned you on. “P-please…I’m gonna cum…”

“Cum inside me!” You said quickly, grabbing onto his shoulders. “Please. I wanna feel you s’bad…”

And just like you had moments earlier, Robin cried out your name as his cum splattered against your walls, filling you up. The two of you smiled at each other before you rolled off of him, curling up beside him to press a kiss to his cheek. You could feel his cum leaking out of you as you did so, but you didn’t care.

“So,” Robin turned to you with a smile. “Think I should dress like this more?”

“No,” you said so quickly that Robin looked dismayed. “No, wait. That’s not what I meant. I just meant that I don’t think I’m ready to have other people see you like this,” you played with the dress’s collar as you spoke. “When you look like this, I want to keep you all to myself.”

In response, Robin rolled over on top of you, and showered your face with kisses.

[sydney-the-faithful]

Heeeeeeeeeyyyy Sydneyyyyy : ) Buddy! Pal! Bestie! How've you beeeen welcome to tumblr hope everything's good I just have uh a teeny tiny smidge of a favour to ask you-

P L E A S E ask your father to stop showing sex tapes in class. Your dad's swell, I help at his shop sometimes it's cool, but I see so so so much more of his bare ass in a week than I'm comfortable with and it's always for a lesson he's taught us about 20 times already. I think we're all clear on the fact that porn lies to you.

Allow me, your guide on this journey, to paint a picture for you. So you can understand my feelings.

It's 9am. Neither me nor my poor twin sibling have slept. I was at one of my jobs, they were uh... Staring at the ceiling. We're both just fucked. Our good pal Sydney's dad comes in for a fun and informative science lesson! Yaaaaaay! But then for some ungodly reason your old man decides to show us all a sex tape! The poor bastard I popped out with's sat next to me. Let that knowledge sit with you.

Now I've seen my share of butts. I'm accustomed to them. My sibling? Not so much. Kind of person that regularly throws their little cardigans at me to make sure I'm covered up enough to be okay outside. They aren't coping with this whole your dad's bare ass on screen situation. I think one day their sleep deprived brain will crack and they'll start crying in class and make a scene.

Apologies for the superlong message no rush with the response or pressure to match the length at all but this was important + also wayyyyy too awkward to tell you in person for obvious reasons. Pls help.

~ @poorsadorphanposting (Esmee •⌄•)

Esmee!! Greetings! :D Everything's fine. This Tumblr thing has proven to be... strange so far. I fear a lot of people have gotten too comfortable with the anonymous feature, though. It was foolish of me to not expect that.

As for the favour, I... Um. I don't really know what to say. I'm not too familiar with how he runs his classroom, but that certainly sounds... peculiar?? The way you painted a picture of your day was convincing and I have no reason to believe you're lying.

I hate to say this, but... It makes me glad I don't take his class. He always tries to lecture me about those kind of things, and that's strenuous enough. To be shown a graphic demonstration, countless times??? Oof. That's unnecessary. I hope Edin is alright, I too would be very rattled.

I'll talk to him for you. Teaching the same lesson 20 times over is redundant and exhaustive. I mean, really. How many times do you need to see something to get it in your head? Not that many. :/

Uh... Before I do, though. I just want to clarify...

1) You're sure sex tape is the right word? It's more graphic than just a teaching demonstration?

2) What is the lesson he's teaching exactly? Why does he think it's necessary to show that?

3) You're sure its... him? I mean, in your message you were very clear that it's my "dad's bare butt", but... Hm.

Thanks. Sorry for my hesitance, I don't mean to pry, but this is the first I'm hearing of any of this. I want to make sure I've got everything clear.

[the-blind-geisha]

Could you write something about a modern Demi jerking off and fantasizing about his roomate MC? Maybe going into her room and using some…stuff to help

A/N: Oof! Sorry this took me awhile, anon. A lot of stuff came up that made it hard to focus on. Thanks for being patient!

She sometimes worked late. Demiurge at least had that on his side.

It had been difficult for him rooming with a human and trying to pretend he could be normal—just like her.

Having an acute sense of smell was torture at times. While he didn't mind her bathing products, the one thing that would drive me to seclusion from her was when she was in a human form of heat.

It was such an odd topic to ever bring up. So much so, he refused to ever do so... especially since Demiurge had a small crush on her.

That euphoric sensation had arisen anew, making it hard to focus. With her gone, he took it upon himself to sneak into her bedroom just down the hall.

The smell was the strongest on her clothing and in her bed. But there was one thing he could always rely on to assist him in this time of need—the underwear she wore at night. She wore revealing clothing during the summer time. It was practically just undergarments. He couldn't say that bothered him at all.

Making it onto the covers of her bed with a stolen pair of that nightly underwear he saw her in, he laid on his back and stared up at the ceiling.

His metal tail began to swish back and forth as his mind overran with thoughts of her. Bringing the undergarment close to his nose, he inhaled the intoxicating sent to which only encouraged his cock all the more.

Demiurge dug into his pants, pulling out his erection to begin stroking it steadily.

A heavy breath filled the air as he moved the sensitive skin over the head of his manhood till it could no longer do so. The sensation mounted with each intoxicating sniff of her marred clothing.

His mind wandered, envisioning grabbing her and forcing her down on the very bed he was on at that moment. With her request, he had bound her wrists with a single grip as she was bent over for him to enjoy.

She panted, face flushed while looking over her shoulder at him. The look in her eyes said everything—she wanted him to continue. Her legs even spread apart as her fingers curled.

“F-Fuck me... Please, Demiurge...! I want to feel what a demon cock is like...!”

His erection jerked in his grasp as a throaty moan managed to scrape past his lips just imagining such a thing being ordered of him. The devil gripped upon himself tighter as he stroked firmly with the thought of how tight and wet she could be.

He spoke her name again and again, vividly thinking of how loud it would sound with his thighs slamming into hers. The lewd, wet squelching noise that her wet womanhood could make while he thrust within her again and again.

“I wish to take you... so badly...!” he pleaded, gritting his teeth in desperation of the dream to turn into a reality.

He wanted more than anything to have her scent fill the room and make him go wild. Even now, it was like a drug he couldn't be without.

Stroking faster and harder to match the rhythm in his mind, saliva dribbled down the corner of his mouth as he could hear her begging for release. She needed it, wanted it—demanded it. She was so loud in his vision that it was hard for him to even imagine the bed moaning from their actions.

“Come inside of me...! Please...! Fuck...! I can't take it anymore...!” She was resting her face on the covers, her mind obviously in a daze. He wanted to think hard on her about to lose control all because of him.

Demiurge fantasized himself inching closer, whispering near her ear. “As you wish...!”

Just the thought of teasing her in such a way, he couldn't hold back any longer. The pre-release dribbled down his shaft before finally his cock tensed and a far more heavier stream came forth. A strong burst at first before it started to weaken, making his length and his fingers.

[yinjiyang]

heartsurpluss​:

“Understood.”

Terence, a follower by nature, easily falls into the position of taking commands. However he can be of help, he will be. These are his men, Dion’s men, and they are good men. All of them with hopes, dreams, and families that would miss them dearly should they perish here on the battlefield. The gratitude he had for Yin’s help knew no bounds, and so he would be as useful as he could be to keep those very same men breathing and well.

He took the cloth from Yin, offering an apologetic smile down at the wounded Dragoon. His heart, how it went out to this poor man in pain, but there was much work to be done.

“Please, bite down on this. I assure you, you are in the best hands.” he said gently, pleased when the man bit down on the offered rag. Then, he crawled over and placed one hand to either of his shoulders, pushing down with enough force to cause no harm, but hold him firmly in place.

“Ready, Yin, when you are.”

       Being ever observant, Yin had noticed the way the second-in-command appeared to naturally fall into a supportive role; perhaps that was one of the reasons why the healer felt somewhat comfortable around him.  While Yin was very much a teacher, he was by no means a leader; oh no, his brother was the one for that; no, Yin had always been content to fall into the role of aide and advisor.  However, he did understand when to take charge of a situation such as this one--though, in his mind, he saw this as a teachable moment for someone who seemed so dedicated to protecting and helping his brothers in arms.        While he usually would perform the traction and subsequent dressings of the limb without a word, the healer thought it best in this situation to talk through the steps not just for the sake of a pained and frightened dragoon, but also as a means to impart knowledge upon his dutiful assistant.  "The majority of your pain is due to your bones being out of place," he gently explained, looking to the wounded soldier's eyes as he accepted the rag between his teeth.  "Once we put them back, you will feel much better."  Not that the pain would be completely gone, oh certainly not, but it would definitely hurt a lot less.  "We will start with the hip..." he continued, resting his hands upon the man's pelvis and gently rocking from side to side.  Yin gave no warning--no warning at all--just kept rocking for several beats like a boat on waves and, for a moment, the soldier had a slight sense of security...that is, until Yin suddenly yanked on his thigh, resulting in a scream muffled by the fabric stuffed in his mouth.  However, the hip had slid into place with an oh-so-satisfying pop.        "You are doing well, soldier," he commended softly.  "Just a little longer," he tenderly encouraged as he moved to the man's shin, noting the protruding bone and studying it for a moment as the dragoon panted and grunted, sweat beading his brow as he trembled from the adrenaline coursing through his body, thankful to have Terence there at least.         "Now, I will do a maneuver called traction-counter-traction.  Ser Terence will hold you in place while I pull your leg toward me, this will cause your bone to slide back into place so I may align it properly.  It will hurt.  Very much.  So when I count to three, I need you to scream as loud as you can."  This was a distraction technique he had learned long ago; anticipating the scream, taking that deep breath before prepared the body for that final agonizing movement, and the scream was a form of therapy.  "Ready?"  He gave both men a moment until the wounded dragoon nodded rapidly, taking deep gasps.  "One...two...three."        Despite the rag in the man's mouth, the scream roared through the camp as Yin did exactly as he said he would, quickly and sharply pulling the man's knee down so that the broken edge of the bone disappeared within the skin once more; he quickly slid the femur into place, feeling another satisfying catch once the break had aligned.  Perfect.  "Well done, soldier," he again complimented as the dragoon collapsed on the bed, panting but also a bit calmer.  Yin had been right; his leg did feel better--not perfect, obviously, but the pain was markedly improved just by putting the pieces back where they were supposed to be.        "Ser Terence," the healer continued, glancing to the second-in-command.  "Will you please hold his leg straight and still while I suture his wound?"  While he had no doubts the second-in-command knew how to suture and dress a wound, it never hurt to watch someone skilled in the profession do it.  Perhaps he would even learn a new technique.

[vortship]

@irkborne continued from x

“Whoa...”

From the floor of her father’s sizable living room, his decor a shining wall-to-wall display of tackiness, Hal sat on her knees in front of the TV. 

“They’ve got two Tallests now?” 

Galdino, splayed out on the couch beyond necessity, struggled to light his cigarette.

“‘Won’t be long before they get their asses blown up too.” he scoffed and finally managed to take a drag, exhaling the smoke slowly with a heavy sigh. “Why we watchin’ Irken shit anyway? Turn somethin’ else on.”

Hal rolled her eyes, she didn’t comply with her brother’s demand. An announcer droned the ‘Almighty's’ names, though it didn’t take her long to forget them. Unseen by Hal, a familiar, lanky figure loomed close behind.

“Hey.” came a wistful voice, she sensed a pointed finger in her peripheral gesture towards one of the newly ‘elected’ Irkens, “I know that guy.”

-----

She’d spoken quicker than she could figure out what it was she was even saying. No situation couldn’t be improved without a bit of levity, right? For all the past trouble she’d been in, this was almost too much to quantify; it towered over her like silhouette she was facing, comparatively massive (thank the universe the Vortians did not rank themselves by height). 

Her experiences on Earth had broadened her horizons to the peace of an isolated planet. The ever-present threat of the Armada was not an issue for humans. It never had been. And as soon as both her and Zim had learned the truth, she was summoned elsewhere.

Summoned. Captured. Same thing.    

While Hal hardly expected a warm welcome, his harsh, disturbing words seared. She cringed. A cursory glance taken at the surrounding technicians indicated they were just as surprised.

“Um... right...” what else could be said? At the very least, he’d managed to wipe the seemingly permanent smile from her face.

 Expected or not, Nimas were never exactly a desired sight; a family many called cursed. There was only so long it seemed they could go without the itch to cause unbridled mischief overtaking them. Hal was just another in a long line of debauchery. 

“I’m not trying to bleed on your bridge or whatever... uh really I’m just trying to not go to back to jail but... you know how it is.” did he? Probably not. “Anywhoozers, you gonna show me around?”

[heavvnsiighs]

*  𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑  ╱ @actup​

         he  takes  the  cigarette  that  sits  perched  behind  his  ear  ,  rolling  it  in  his  fingers  as  he  makes  his  way  towards  the  balcony  .  he  weaves  himself  through  the  throngs  of  people  that  litter  the  greenwich  village flat  ;  his  hand  filled  with  a  mix  of  silver  and  gold  rings  find  the  small  of  a  back  as  he  tries  to  excuse  himself  between  her  and  another  body  .  it’s  when  her  head  turns  just  a  fraction  that  familiarity  strikes  his  senses  and  he  comes  to  a  short  pause  .  her  ever-growing  presence  at  his  own  apartment  had  become  somewhat  of  a  proverbial  thorn  to  his  side  ,  frequent  run-ins  that  held  no  substance  as  he  tried  to  stay  out  of  her  and  his  roommate’s  way  .  his  own  hook  ups  that  he’s  brought  home  ,  likely  sharing  more  conversations  with  her  than  he  has  .  he’s  got  a  couple  drinks  floating  in  his  system  already  ,  feeling  more  relaxed  than  usual  ,  filled  with  the  knowledge  that  he’s  off  for  the  next  three  days  .  a  smirk  takes  residence  over  his  features  as  he  drops  his  hand  from  her  back  .  “  well  ,   if  it  isn’t  the  triple  threat  herself  . . .  leaving  a  mess  ,  a  voice  that  naturally  echos  and  pierces  through  the  walls  and   your  greatest  talent  of  all  ---  leaving  long  blonde  strands  everywhere  in  the  apartment  .  ”  his  voice  is  ominously  teasing  -  a  stark  contrast  to  his  usual  cool  demeanour  towards  her  .  his  fingers  twitch  ,  tempted  to  tug  at  her  golden  locks  that  cascade  down  her  arms  but  he  refrains  .  “  jackson  here  with  you  ?  ”  his  dark  eyes  dart  away  from  hers  ,  sweeping  over  her  head  in  search  of  his  roommate  .  

[iswound]

SIKEN  -  WAR  OF  THE  FOXES.  ACCEPTING  -   STARTER.

difficult  thing,  to  be  scrutinized  so  long.  @sabcrlost​

here  in  her  aches  remains  the  remnants  of  your  tattered  old  ghost  town :   tell  me,  wound,  do  you  remember  the  dog  pits?  the  sinkhole,  the  flesh  made  gold  beskar,  the  black  lung  capillaries  left  bare  and  raw  and  anything  -  but  -  corrupt,  something  that  tastes  vaguely  of  your  mother’s  embrace,  a  veracious  sensation  so  foreign  and  good  to  the  likes  of  your  nefarious,  nimble  fingers.  here  in  her  eyes  remains  the  god - slayed  salvation  that  could  have  been  good  for  you  once,  wound.  do  your  hallow  eyes  remember  the  promise  she’d  bring  you,  oh  mand’alor  graced  on  holy  scorched  earth,  if  only  you  stayed  and  bled  for  her  crown?  that  she  too,  would  make  all  the  bad  things  go  away  if  only  you  gave  her  salvation?  yes,  of  course  you  remember.  your  mother  wouldn’t  let  you,  no,  of  course  she  wouldn’t.  her  :  all  a  dead,  rotten  carcass  but  not  infinitely  -  not  in  the  ways  that  mattered.  she  whispers  in  your  ear  on  nights  you  can’t  handle  your  own  feasible  skin :  too  bad  you  fucked  it  all  up  by  leaving,  girl. 

❝     oh,  and  you  wouldn’t  know?    ❞  your  words  are  as  cold  and  uncouth  as  your  ghost  -  mother’s  hands  as  her  teeth  make  its  home  in  the  warmth  of  your  weeping  jugular.  she  infects :  how  many  of  our  kind  have  you  left  to  the  imps?  count,  child,  how  many  times  did  you  lead  clones  in  pursuit  of  a  jedi,  only  to  find  the  blood  of  a  brother  covert  on  your  traitor  hands?  i’ve  counted  dozens,  but  you’ve  always  lied  before.

you  open  your  lips,  trying  to  say  something  to  your  mand’alor,  your  angel - hymned  saviour,  but  your  mother  claws  poison  at  the  tip  of  your  ravaged  tongue:  careful  child,  there’s  mandalore  blood  dripping  from  your  hungry  tongue.  you  swallow:    ❝     i suppose  you  expect  apologies.  tell  me  what  i  have  to  atone  for  and  i  might  think  about  it,  if  you  even  remember  me  at  all.    ❞

[fxywild]

   --- What had started as a light shower soon turned heavy. It was, perhaps, in these moments where she was grateful that the sweater she bore was made not of wool but of a form of incredibly flexible metal for she wasn’t nearly as soaked as she could have been. Still, the fabric of her hood clung to her head, the curve of her long ears apparent under the sodden material. After all, the hooded pellegrina was nothing more than your standard -- albeit magically enhanced -- cape. A shiver ran down her spine. While not particularly cold, there was still something of a bite to the air. Something the wetness seemed only to intensify. Still, she walked. Feet taking her... somewhere. She knew not, of course. These lands as strange and new to her as the last. Longing twisted it’s fingers around her heart, squeezing until it hurt. She missed that which was her norm. The bright world that lay just alongside this one. 

       A wet warmth heated her cheeks. Tears falling long before she had even noticed she was crying. The crushing pain of loneliness outweighed only by that of the memories of home. Through bleary eyes and slitted mask, her gaze would fall upon something warm. A light that shone, albeit perhaps a little weakly, through the dismal weather. A safe haven, a place to wait out the storm. Naturally, hesitation did take hold. She too knew the dangers of simply waling towards something. Had that not been how one of her companions almost died one time?  Yet the promise of warmth would soon outweigh the fear of ambush. She could deal with that if it arose, right? Right. She was a big girl, she had Corellon’s backing. She could take care of herself.

       Lifting the mask, she rubbed at her eyes. Big girls didn’t cry, after all. And only after replacing it would she proceed. It didn’t take long before she stood before the flaps of one of the most fantastic tents she had seen -- at least since coming to the material plane, that is. Taking a step in she instantly felt the warmth surround her, attempting to push through the layers of cold wet that was her clothing. Yet she would look around her, stepping forth if only to not block the entrance, her gloved hands tugging at her hood, ensuring that it still covered her head. Ensuring that only the star burst of Corellon remained visible to any who may reside within. And when satisfied, her hands would drop, balling into fists by her sides. If only to stop the shaking, her voice calling from behind the mask,        “I-is anyone there?” she paused, feeling suddenly sheepish, “Oh, I hope I’m not intruding,“

@unsungxheroes   ||   Lux

[slkwade]

Bishops Diner had always presented a pleasant distraction on nights where Wade's emotions got the best of him. The comfy booths, the fresh coffee, and the daily newspaper he’d always find at his table was an easy way to blend in with the world around him. In many ways, the habit of going every week made him feel normal, like everyone else, and not like someone who’d spent their formative years in a big metal box to be poked and prodded. Despite the cold exterior, one of Wade’s favorite things to do was sit and talk about the current and future state of the world with the diner owner, Brian. If he was being honest, some of those conversations made the long trip to the outskirts of town well worth it, and for that, Wade Warner was thankful. ,

Now that the Harvest Fest was over, he’d had a few days to ruminate on all of the chaos. The weather was nice and Dot was sleeping in; it was the perfect chance to go out. She wasn’t at fault for his stress, in fact, he was proud of her for standing up to someone from her past in the ways that she did...but he still couldn’t deny that the lingering fear of her walking out on him one day didn’t plague him with worry. Let’s not think about this right now.

As he makes his morning drive his fingers grip the steering wheel a little bit tighter than normal when he notices the camera crews and yellow tape. His nerves doubling at the sight, he pulls over quickly onto the sidewalk and rushes up to the crime scene, only to get shoved back by the rubbernecks trying to get a clear shot of the scene. A wave of anger bubbles up inside of him at the disrespect and his fist balls up. Small visions of popping someone in the mouth flash through Wade’s mind until a person in the crowd places a hand on his shoulder to gather his attention and (presumably) stop any possible conflict. He jumps a little bit at the conflict and turns his body, taking in a deep breath before loosening his fist. 

“I’m not going to hit anyone if that’s what you’re worried about-” he begins, sighing and turning to face the person, “Just frustrated. Say, you wouldn’t happen to know what exactly is going on here, would you? Did anyone get hurt?”

[zimvasion]

Anger was the one emotion that anyone who came close to Zim would become very acquainted with very fast.

He was, and always had been, prone to random bursts of rage that would come and go; throwing what could not be described as anything other than tantrums and screaming at anyone who dare invoke his wrath were common occurrences.  

However, complete seething silence was a whole new level, not something he took to often, if ever. Any sort of quiet was completely out of his character. And it had been a very, very quiet ride back from planet Judgementia. 

Escaping had been relatively easy. All they had to do was find their way around the guards, steal a ship, and leave. They would probably realize that Zim was missing sooner or later, and Zim would be receiving a call from his Tallests, but..well, who cared about that anymore! That ‘party’ that had been thrown for him had not been much of a party after all, and Zim had been the only one not in on the joke.

There was a part of him that just wanted to lie down on the floor and wail in despair–his Tallests wanted him DEAD! Somewhere along the way, though he could not imagine where or how, he had angered them. Lost their respect. Failed them. But a larger part of him was filled to the brim with indescribable resentment. He had done everything they had always asked! He was a loyal irken Invader, one of the greatest–THE greatest! Sure, his mission was taking a little longer than everyone elses, and he had had a mishap here and there, but he had his reasons! He just needed more time. What had he done so wrong for them to not be able to understand that? For them to give him..an existence evaluation!? The worst thing he had ever done was harbor a fugitive..

The fugitive, Hal. She had known all along too, hadn't she? ( Somewhere, deep inside, Zim too was well aware of his own defectiveness. He had just been under the impression that no one else knew. And over time, he had dug himself so deep into a hole of denial that he completely blocked out the truth and made his own truth that suited his needs better. )

Zim stepped out of the ship, still quiet. For a moment it seemed as if he were not going to say anything about it at all. And then he turned around, one hand balled into a fist and the other pointing an accusing finger at the Vortian. 

❝ Y o u. ❞ he snarled, waggling his finger a bit. ❝ You knew, did you not? DID YOU NOT!? ❞ he demanded, repeating himself at an increasing volume without even giving Hal a fighting chance to answer. ❝ I thought we were–ah..er.. ❞ He paused to search for the appropriate word, avoiding 'friend' at all costs. ❝ A..ALLIES! Yes, allies! Business partners! ❞ he screeched, gesticulating wildly. 

He rose up onto his PAK legs, putting himself several feet taller than Hal. He glared down at her, ruby eyes shimmering with misplaced rage. Yes, he was irate with her in particular, but he mostly felt betrayed. He didn't know how to deal with feeling betrayed by his leaders, the ones he had been trying to impress and gain the attention of for years. And he didn’t know how to deal with feeling betrayed by Hal, who had more or less became something of a companion to him even if he refused to admit it.

❝ You were USING ME for my BASE! But I don't CARE! It doesnt–nrggghh, none of it MATTERS! Because I'm GOING TO TAKE OVER THIS STUUUUuuUPID PLANET! I AM GOING TO PROVE TO MY TALLESTS THAT IM WORTHY, EVEN IF IM DETECTIVE! EVERYONE IS GOING TO SEE WHAT A MIGHTY INVADER I AM, AND THEY WILL RUE THE DAY THAT THEY LIE TO ZIM!

....AND I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP TO DO IT!!!!! ❞

@vortship​

[weightedservos]

@reclusiveformerwarlord: [cont.]

The hunt had gone wrong. Blaster fire clipped his right side, and severed the clawed cable there. Worse, the blast had pierced his side, scorching armor plating, destroying circuitry. The wound was smeared with energon, most of it half dried now.

Of course, the way Megatron was covering it made it difficult to see the extent of the damage. He hisses at the medic, sparkeater instincts still half in control. Fortunately, it’s not hunger anymore, but self defense.

~ ✛ ~

In the wake of Optimus’s self-sacrifice Ratchet had returned to Earth once again. Even if he had not already resolved to stay here, Cybertron held too many painful reminders now. On Earth, he could absorb himself in mindless work and forget.

He listened irritably as he was given the report of strange signals and sightings near an area of high radioactivity, too dangerous for humans to investigate. Of course, having him check was the obvious choice.

Well, perhaps it would be a distraction.

He stepped through the space bridge into the forested area, pedes crunching on dried leaves as he angled his scanners in attempt to detect whatever might be out here. It didn’t take him long to pick up an energon signal—spilled energon, since it was showing up in the scan—and he began to follow it. When his optics alighted on the figure at the end of the trail he was able to identify it as obviously Cybertronian, and approached cautiously until he made out the shape of the frame and froze.

Megatron.

Optics widened, then narrowed, the flat, dull tones of Ratchet’s field spiking with instinctive anger and distrust.

“It’s you,” were his only words, spoken in a low, dark tone. Well, a pitiful reflection of him anyway. He continued to glare harshly, disgust seeping in to join the other emotions mixing in his field as the other hissed at him like a wounded beast. A pitiful state, yet it was not difficult to remind himself that Megatron did not deserve pity, not after all he’d done.

[callmeyourhero]

starter for @the2012turtles

A long, exasperated sigh echoed through the streets of NYC, reaching all the way from the Bronx to Staten Island and everywhere in between; Scaring probably about 1000 pigeons on the way and waking anyone unfortunate enough to leave their windows open. 

“Hey! Quiet down up there!” A cranky voice called out from not to far away, prompting Leo to rudely shout back “I’m SORRY I didn’t hear you because I was too busy looking for a fu-” 

“WILL YOU ALL SHUT UP” A third voice added before the teenager could finish. Ahh New York, gotta love it.

The turtle brushed off the whole conversation and attempted to regain his focus, holding out his weapon, ready to strike. He leaned in close to his weapon and whispered to himself. “Okay Nardo; It’s easy; all you have to do is make a silly little portal home and prove to your brothers that you are, in fact a useful and capable asset. You got this. You are a champion. You have no fear, no reason to hesitate.”

He took a deep breath and struck his weapon in a circular form, scaring away a stray bug that dared cross his path. Despite him moving swiftly, he felt as if he was in slow motion. His blade gracefully slicing through the air, picking up more and more speed as he spun it around repeatedly until finally the blue glow began to form around the blade, as the circle he traced became clearer and clearer. Yes! It’s working! He thought to himself, trying hard to to lose focus.

Eventually he stopped spinning and looked proudly on his work, his arms involuntarily making their way to his hips. “Oh-ho boy just WAIT until the guys see me popping in through this!” His smile widened as he backed up, ready to leap into the portal. I can’t wait to see the look on their faces! 

Putting his sword away he began his flying leap into the portal, graceful as a swan until he tripped on nothing. A rock probably. Instead of his planned triple-somersault-flying-leap he settled for an unintentional-half-flip.

Landing on his head for the third time today probably wasn’t good for his health, but it didn’t stop him from saying his “well-thought-out” entrance line. 

“Oh sorry for dropping by unannounced!” His proud smile quickly changed to awkward smile.

“Heheh whoops, wrong sewer.”

[nohreason]

@latrocinari

IT HAD BEEN A HARROWING DAY thus far, and quite frankly Leo was looking forward to some sort of reprieve, should they ever find it. At the least he’d had Zero at his back, support in both the physical and emotional sense, steady and reliable when all else had seemingly failed him. He’d used Brynhildr twice already, and though he was loath to even consider admitting as much, one more spell and he’d have little more than a fancy bludgeon on hand. It had been a humiliating blow from the start, but never had it been so critical to his survival that his magic was so limited.

They had traveled in relative silence through the wards, all in various states of chaos and panic, for the most part avoiding the shambling undead that appeared in the blink of an eye, and never alone at that. Though they were unscathed thus far, it had been a rather long day with no end to this disaster in sight -- and no shelter either.  He pauses in his steady gait, looking to the other man stopping almost immediately beside him.

It’s difficult not to sigh a great heaving breath of frustration. It’s not as if it would help anyhow.

<<I think we should begin to look for shelter before nightfall. While I know very well that you’re perfectly capable in the dark, I would rather we did not have to fight under less than ideal circumstances.>> He leaves unsaid that he laments his own lack of usefulness thus far. <<Perhaps -- >>  Leo trails off, for once unable to immediately suggest a proper location in the current ward, Cotes.

[coollyinterferes]

   ⬦ Continued from here ⬦ @chivalryjoestar​

“Mh-hm.” Robert began, humming in response to Jojo’s question before he added. “You’d think it’s somethin’ exclusive t’ this land, but in reality, there're plenty other places ‘round the globe that ‘ave similar stories. Quite the spooky ones sometimes! And all those ‘ave evolved into different kinds of traditions as well.” Growing poor, he was not particularly attached to Halloween like others might have, as only sometimes he’d had the chance to do something special for the day as a child, something that went on as he grew older. However, he did have a thing for sharing stories and facts and whatnot, especially those he’s picked up through his many journeys around the world.

And, of course, despite his ‘limited’ experiences on the matter, he still had some stories of his own related to this festivity. Robert cocked his head a little to the side as he reminisced; a lock of golden curls falling over his shoulder.

“I normally wouldn’t do much at first. I was gettin’ adjusted t’ all the stuff I was goin’ through then–” That was the simplest way for him to say he was getting adjusted to being completely on his own and in the streets by the tender age of 5 at the time. “–Then, later on, I became friends with some kids. We went soulin’ on All Hallows Eve for a few years in a row. We would spend the rest of that day eatin’ soul cakes, sittin’ at the back of some shop.” He added, there was a small and sheepish smile as he went through some of those details. Then again, souling was an activity only the poor could partake in. And the shop he and his friends would ‘visit’, they would actually purloin some hot beverages from.

“I know I shouldn’t complain ‘bout ‘em but, man... the cakes some folks would give us would always be kinda crummy.” He laughed a little, managing to shake that previous feeling of inadequacy off for the most part. “All in all, it was fun t’ just go ‘round soulin’ and havin’ some fun… even if we were t’ spend lord knows ‘ow long prayin’ in the upcomin’ weeks after that in exchange.”

“Y’know, there’re some rhymes you ‘ad t’ sing if you wanted t’ get one of those cakes.” That sheepish smile from before had widened a bit, having turned more into one of amusement now as memories of some of his little mischiefs all those years ago came back to him. “We could ‘ave skipped those houses we knew their cakes weren’t good, but we figured it’d be funnier t’ just visit ‘em and sing as horribly as we could! Besides, we couldn’t really say no t’ some free food, so we might as well just take the chance and do the best out of it.”

He then listened intently to Jojo’s own story, about those big parties with the costumes. He’d heard a little about those before from other folks and, as much as he wasn’t really interested in most of those ‘wealthy people’ things, Speedwagon had to admit he was kind of curious about it. And, of course, Jojo’s admitted fear of those eerie stories when he was a kid didn’t fall on deaf ears either.

“I must admit…” He began, his smile coming back once more, though softened this time. No malice in it at all, just pure awe at hearing that the ever courageous and fearless Mister Joestar had once been prey of that sort of spooky tales, something that showed clear as day in Robert’s voice. “...after all the things I’ve seen you do, it’s ‘ard t’ believe those stories would ever keep you up at night!”

“But now I’m curious… ‘bout those parties you mentioned. I’ve only ‘eard little things ‘bout ‘em, but never been t’ one.” He commented, true interest in his voice, “Are they really as spooky as everyone claims? I keep hearin’ the costumes are t’ die for, but I refuse t’ believe most rich folks would willingly wanna look like some old hag or a rotten ghoul.”