#a b & d sands

[why-its-kai]

Full resolution detail scans of the production materials printed in the "Monthly Satellite Times" newspaper insert included in the Trigun Stage 4 Laserdisc release. (2/2)

Scanned, stitched together, newsprint paper texture removed by me.

13. Sandsteamer crewmen's heat-resistant clothing 14. Humpback class sandsteamer (front) 15. Humpback class sandsteamer (rear) 16. Humpback class sandsteamer bridge (front) 17. Humpback class sandsteamer suspension 18. Humpback class sandsteamer 19. Humpback class sandsteamer cockpit 20. Kaite (bandaged) 21. Kaite 22. Kaite (heat-resistant clothing) 23. Kaite's father (Richard Trevisick) 24. Milly & Meryl (Bad Lad disguises) 25. Milly & Meryl (pajamas)

[bizarrelittlemew]

hoping the fact that Taika got Ed's spider tattoos on his feet is because he wore the fake ones a lot while shooting s2 (enough that he got attached to them) which means Ed is walking around barefoot in several scenes and why would he do that if not for pants-less purposes

[firstmetme]

.

[soulesplinters]

Angsty theta 😏🎶

Honestly I don't know how I got so far I did this to me I did this to me There is no one else to blame I did it myself

birthday kid by mili

alternate version below the cut (warning for blood)

I did this to me I wish it was your fault But how could it be, oh I did this to me

[sturnsdarling]

'I get them too, sometimes'

y/n has an anxiety attack, and bff!matt calms her down the only way he can think of in the moment

vibe check: detailed anxiety attack, comforting!matt, anxious!reader, fluffy ending cute vibes all round

1.5k words

A/N: WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN anyways this is based on the iconic stydia scene where stiles has a panic attack and lydia kisses him. I was gonna do it where Matt had the anxiety attack but it felt icky so I swapped it round. as an anxious girlie this was weirdly comforting to write and PART TWO IS HERE

love and cigs, merc

The boys' house was vibrating with the thump of music from every corner. People were pouring in through the front door, all mingling in the living room as Chris' party playlist blared through the speakers. Almost everyone in the influencer space was there, and you felt like the odd one out.

The boys' had begged you to come, pulling the 'it wont be the same without you' card as they all glared at you with puppy eyes. They knew parties weren't really your thing but, it was a celebration for them hitting seven million on their youtube channel and, you knew you couldn't miss it. So after some begging and bribing with 'literally anything you want from that weird old book shop in downtown' you agreed to go.

You felt like you were wearing a sign that said, in big bold letters; 'I don't belong here' as you lent against the kitchen counter, nursing some liquid courage. Chris was on the sofa, his laughter booming over the music as he sat with Nate and some boys you didn't recognise. Nick was at the drink station, making cocktails with the girls, pretending to be a bartender as he tired, and failed, at bar flares, making everyone around him curl over with laughter, as usual. Matt was on the other side of the kitchen, talking to some people about whatever show he was obsessed with at the moment and peering over at you occasionally to make sure you were okay.

More and more people started to pile into the house, more people than you even thought they knew, and at the sight of tens of faces you didn't know, a tight feeling started to form in your chest. You knew you were okay, because you had the boys, but they were off mingling and doing their rounds and you didn't exactly want to follow them around like a lost puppy.

You put your drink down, walking over to the sink to fill a red cup with water, your hand shaking slightly as you brought the cup to your mouth. You took a gulp and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in and reminding yourself that you were fine, and you were in the boys' house. You knew that they wouldn't invite anyone that they didn't trust in their home and just kept reminding yourself of that.

An already drunk and giggly girl barged into the kitchen, flayling about without a care in the world as she backed up into you, knocking your drink from your hand and nearly pushing you into the sink.

"oh, shit, m'so sorry babe" she said as you turned around slightly. She placed a soft hand on your shoulder and squeezed it, "oh my god you're so pretty what the fuck!" she squealed, "m'sorry for spilling your drink" she slurred, sauntering away as you forced a smile.

Despite the somewhat sweet interaction, something about it made your fingers go numb, your chest tightening at the feeling of your wet shirt clinging to your skin. The walls started to close in and you felt as if you could feel the world turning on its axis. Your breath felt like sand paper against your throat as you tried to steady your rapid heart rate and failed.

You pushed your way through the crowds of people and b-lined for Matt's room, your knees nearly buckling under you as you desperately tried to calm your breathing.

As if he could feel your energy change, Matt instinctively looked for you in the crowd, catching a glimpse of your frame as you ducked between people, near enough running to his room.

"I'll be right back" he said to the guy in front of him, placing his drink down and following you through the crowd, calling out your name as he did.

You fumbled at the door handle, pushing yourself inside Matts room as your vision began to blur. Your chest was heaving up and down with rapid breaths, every inhale felt nearly impossible and everything around you was pulsating, your vision turning to a fishbowl as you clawed at your chest.

"y/n/n" Matt entered the room, searching for you in the dim light.

You turned to face him, your eyes brimming with tears as you pressed hard fingers into your sternum, Matts eyes widened at the sight of you and he shut the door, coming to you in an instant, gentle hands on your shoulders as he tried to keep them in one place.

"hey, hey, you're okay, you're okay" He repeated, knowing immediately what was happening.

"I can't - I can't breathe" you stuttered out, pleading eyes burning holes into his. Your knees buckled from under you, feeling like the world was shifting under your feet.

Matt followed you to the floor, hands still gripping your shoulders. "Its okay, breathe with me, okay?" He said, taking a long inhale and encouraging you to copy him, his eyes baring into yours.

You tried to mimic his movements, a shaky breath rattling through your nose. Matt breathed out, nodding as he did and you did the same, the feeling in your chest only worsening, it felt like someone had tied a belt round your shoulders, and was pulling it closed as tight as they could around your chest, watching with a smile as the breath left your lungs.

You clenched your eyes closed and shook your head, "s'not working, Matt, nothing is working" a small sob left you as you grew more and more frustrated.

His jaw clenched at the sight of your shaking frame, feeling utterly helpless as you clawed at your chest. He brought his hands to cup your cheeks, bringing your head up to look at him.

"Its okay, y/n, m'right here, I'm right here" he poured into you, not letting you break eye contact as he tried to breathe as slowly as possible.

His thumbs stroked soft touches against your cheek, his eyes racing around your face as you desperately tried to catch your breath. Your eyes flitted back and forth between his, searching for solace in his face, feeling like the walls were closing in around you. Matts eyes fell to your lips, and quickly met your eyes once more. Your brows furrowed in frustration, eyes running circles around his features as his lips parted slightly.

Before you could register what was happening, Matt pulled you into him, crashing his lips against yours in a soft yet strong kiss.

Your eyes widened at the feeling, Matts soft lips pressed against yours as he held you tight against his face. After a moment in the embrace, your shoulders relaxed and your eyes closed, and you started to kiss him back, your arms limp by your sides.

In that moment, you felt as if nothing mattered. Your heart rate slowed and you took a calm, steady breath in through your nose. Matt pulled away from the kiss, hands still wrapped around your face as you took a long breath out through your parted mouth. Matts eyes fluttered open and he let his hands drop down to his knees. Your eyes met his, slow breaths engulfing your lungs.

"h - how did you do that?" you asked in a breathy tone

"I um - I saw somewhere that the best way to stop a panic attack is by holding your breath, so" he muttered, averting his gaze from yours.

"so, when you kissed me" you began to speak

"you held your breath" he looked back up at you, bringing his lips inside themselves, the taste of your lip balm dancing on his tongue.

You smiled, a final, relieved breath leaving your lips as you stared into him.

"thankyou" your gaze was soft and utterly grateful, doe eyes pouring into his as he shuffled where he sat.

"of course" he shrugged, looking down to the floor

You sat in silence for a moment, not a trace of awkwardness hung in the air.

"I get them too, sometimes" Matt said as he toyed with a piece of lint on the floor.

"you do?" you said, still looking at him

"mhm" he nodded, meeting your eye-line, slightly taken back by you already looking at him, "feels like the whole world is crumbling around you, shits' not fun"

"yeah" you chuckled, relaxing where you sat.

"d'you - do you wanna hang out in here for a bit? I can stay with you" Matt said, his eye contact wavering at the offer only to return to you once more.

"oh you don't - you don't have to do that, Matt, you'll miss your party" you shook your head.

"I don't really like parties anyway" he replied, "I'd honestly rather sit here with you on the floor all night" he chuckled, gesturing to the floor.

You smiled as a soft laugh left your nose, "okay" you said.

"yeah?" his head shot up to meet your gaze.

"yeah." you nodded

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10

[lovebugism]

hi! i saw you were looking for some eddie requests for your summer fic fest and i have a wee lightbulb

friends to lovers pool day with eddie where a) he’s never seen the reader in a swimsuit before and his head is short circuiting and b) rhey apply each other’s sunscreen and they’re all blushy and UGH

thank you for the request angel :D — you and eddie have trouble pretending you aren't in love with each other while at a beach day with the gang (friends to lovers, grumpy!eddie, grumpy!reader-ish | 1.6k)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

The white sand is warm and heavy on Eddie’s feet. He buries them beneath the soft granules until his ankles are covered — until the fine grains, now heated by the merciless summer sun, start to burn his pale, delicate skin. It hurts less than how much he misses you, anyway. 

Ten minutes gone, and it feels like an entire lifetime has passed without you. Eddie’s left grieving about it, like a gloomy stormcloud beneath a very blue sky. His soft features are screwed into a very boyish pout that will likely stain his face the rest of the day. Or until you coddle him, whichever comes first.

“Jesus— Did you guys get lost on the way to the room or somethin’?” Steve Harrington chuckles from where he sits a few longue chairs down, dark eyes peeking over the tops of his darker sunglasses. 

Eddie’s head whips over his shoulder to follow his gaze. His heart swells into his throat at the sight of you.

You and Robin walk side by side, kicking up grains of white sand as you go, and looking like total opposites. The latter’s lean, freckled figure is adorned with a pair of jean shorts that go down to her knees and a plain black sports bra instead of a real bikini. 

Your sunkissed skin, meanwhile, clashes just perfectly with the pretty white two-piece you wear — patterned with an array of fruits and flowers. Peaches and oranges and strawberries. Daisies and hydrangeas and lavenders. The cups are a size too small for your breasts. The bottoms sit high up on your waist to display the expanse of your plush thighs.

Eddie forgets how to breathe.

“We got lost on the way to the gift shop, actually,” you quip when you’re in earshot again, squinting one eye to block the sun.

“Yeah,” Robin grouses. “’Cause you forgot to pack the sunscreen, Stevie.”

The boy’s scruffy face screws into a cartoonish look of offense. “You said you were bringing it!” he argues, gesturing to you with a wild hand.

“No— I said I was bringing everything else and that your one job was to remember the sunscreen.”

Steve settles back into his seat then — likely with the acknowledgment that he had, in fact,  forgotten the only thing he was supposed to do. “Oh…” he grimaces sheepishly. “Sorry…”

“It’s okay,” you sigh.

“You owe me seven dollars, though,” Robin monotones, then turns suddenly away. Her chopped locks swish around her shoulders as she squints at the water. “Here, Nance! Catch!” she shouts. The rest of you flinch at the volume of her voice.

The brunette girl looks over her shoulder from where she wades in the water with Jonathan (who’s still getting over his fear of open water, it seems, as he grips onto the girl’s hand for dear life.) Her sharp features pinch in a distant look of confusion. “What?!” she shouts back, tucking a rogue curl behind her ear when it billows in her face.

Robin opts to throw her the bottle of sunscreen, even though her eyesight’s almost as bad as her hand-eye coordination. The thing lands several feet away from its intended recipient — momentarily succumbed to the tides until Jonathan retrieves it from underwater.

In the split second of following silence, you turn to look at Eddie, who’s been uncharacteristically silent since you walked up. His face is all screwed like he’s pouting as his chocolate gaze darts up and down your form. 

“What’s wrong with you?” you ask him, laughing.

His eyes make one more pass over your body — savoring the sight of your bare thighs and tummy and chest — ‘cause he’s never seen so much of you before. “Did you walk all the way to the gift shop like that?” he deadpans.

You bounce a sunkissed shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Yeah?”

“…You didn’t break any necks on the way back, did you?” he teases, peering at you beneath his long lashes in a playfully solemn look.

Your chest warms with something more sparkling than a burn from the sun. You roll your eyes and avert your gaze to the bottle of sunblock in your fist. “Shut up and turn around,” you grumble.

Eddie watches you squeeze a dollop of lotion onto your palm and protests, “I’ll put some on my tattoos, but that’s it.”

“Putting sunscreen just on your tattoos doesn’t count,” you monotone.

“I hate the feeling of it, though…” he complains.

“Don’t care,” you lilt with a sweet smile. “Now turn around.”

Eddie concedes with less arguing than you’d expect. 

He huffs and turns his back to you, pretending to be annoyed to cover up how giddy he truly is. He knows there’s something deeper in your badgering — people don’t get so concerned about something as silly as sunscreen for people they don’t give a shit about. The thought makes his heart beat a little faster.

You warm the lotion between your palms before spreading it over his shoulders. His pale skin, glowing softly red already, is spotted with sparse freckles you could count if you wanted to.

Eddie tenses under your touch. “It’s cold,” he whines.

“Stop being a baby and move your hair outta the way.”

He grumbles like a storm cloud and parts his curls over his shoulders for you. Your hands trace the expanse of his back in a softer touch than he thought anyone was capable of. His skin buzzes accordingly.

You slap him hard on the arm a second alter. “There. All done.”

“Your turn,” Eddie insists, perhaps a hair too quickly to be casual, as he rises from the creaking longue chair. He manhandles you in front of him with gentle hands. Your feet shuffle in the sand as you let him.

“Fine— But don’t be annoying about it,” you scold with a stern look over your shoulder, passing the plastic bottle behind you.

Eddie scoffs. “Never once crossed my mind,” he promises, very playfully sincere, as he squirts a heavy glob of sunblock onto his palm. 

The cream is cold and heavy as he presses into your skin. You grimace, “Eddie!”

“What?” he exclaims in a similar tone, then smiles wickedly to himself. “It’s just sunscreen— don’t be such a baby.”

“That’s gonna take forever to rub in. You know that, right?”

“More fun for me,” he shrugs.

“Perv.”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

He pokes you hard in the shoulder. You flash him a glare. “Don’t be such a freak.”

Eddie laughs as he rubs the sunscreen into your skin — warm and sunkissed and supple under his guitar-string-calloused fingers. His thumbs dip at your lower back, and he has to remind himself to breathe. It’s hard to, though, with his heart in his throat and all. 

When the lotion’s sufficiently melted into your skin, he pats you twice on the waist. “There. See? Easy peasy,” he teases. “I’d put some on your legs, too, but I don’t wanna be too forward.”

You scoff and sit in the beach chair beside him, feet in the sand as you stay facing him. “I think I got it from here, Eds. Thanks, though.”

“Figured,” he sighs and settles into his own seat. 

He tilts his chin to his shoulder, squeezing one eye shut from the sun. He watches you smooth sunblock over your thighs and tries to find something to say in the meantime. He struggles to make the words out, though, so he ends up just staring at you for several long moments.

“That’s, uh— That is a real cute bathing suit, though,” he ends up stammering. “Just, you know, by the way.”

You smear lotion over your calf with careful hands and peer at him beneath your lashes. “I figured that from your ogling,” you tease with a knowing smirk.

Eddie squirms. “Well… What about me, huh? I don’t get a compliment?”

You sit up straight again, trying not to smile too wide. “Well, you look very cute today, Eddie Spaghetti,” you lilt in a mocking tone, ‘cause sincerity’s never been your strong suit.

“Just today?” he murmurs, flashing you a doe-eyed look of expectancy.

“Maybe a little extra today,” you squint.

Eddie huffs and looks away, crossing his bare arms over his chest. His boyish dramatics are obviously meant to make a point, but really, it just gives you a chance to ogle at his happy trail without him noticing.

“Well, I think you’re pretty all the time,” he pouts.

“Shut up,” you laugh, cheeks warming.

“I’m serious!” he insists, then grows playfully sheepish. “But obviously, you don’t feel the same way—”

“Eds.”

“—Obviously, I think you’re unconditionally perfect, and you think I’m only perfect with conditions. It’s fine.”

You blink at him for several long moments, glare unwavering. Eddie maintains his pout in spite. “You’re just fishing for a compliment now, aren’t you?” you deadpan.

Eddie thinks for a moment, then nods. “A little bit. Yeah,” he confesses.

You rise from your seat with a huff, shaking your head and rubbing excess sunblock between your palms. Your body looms beside him. He can smell the coconut-strawberry concoction on your sunkissed skin from here. The summer sun shines in rays behind your head like a halo. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Munson,” you sigh in a honeyed voice before bending at the waist to kiss his cheek. 

Your lips just barely brush his glowing skin. He’s left buzzing about it anyway when you walk away from him, hardly apologetic for the state you’ve left him in.

He tries to come up with some stupid rebuttal to shout at you, but nothing comes to mind quick enough. His brain is full of nothing but static. He’s got a frog in his throat, too. He couldn’t say anything if he tried.

So, instead, Eddie watches silently as you saunter towards the tide with his wild head tilted to his shoulder, admiring the pretty view. (He’s not talking about the water.)

[endlessdreamworld]

For the Yandere alphabet with Aventurine: B, C, D, F, G J, and Y, please.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling? He's already such a messy guy in his day to day. Whatever low needs to be sunk to, he'll see it as a right of passage and enthusiastically drop as low as he can. Hell, he'll even take a second and give a little wave to anyone watching on the way down.

Each new sin is another notch on his belt, and a small price to pay for another piece of you.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them? If it ever got to the point that abduction needed to happen, the situation would be unsalvageable. He's been kept against his will, and captivity breeds defiance. Defiance turns into resentment and loathing -- none of which is conducive towards a loving environment.

Any misbehavior worth punishing leads towards to self flagellation. He'd gladly take on the burden of bearing your punishment, since it's his failure that's causing you to act this way.

It was part of the unspoken deal he made with you (in his head) after all. What kind of man would he be if he punished you for something that was his fault to begin with?

Of course there are lines in the sand...

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will? He's very much keen on letting you keep all of your independence per the above reasons. Aventurine's got some uncrossable lines as mentioned above. If you stay away from those lines then there's very little to worry about.

He wants to give you things, experiences, memories. He wouldn't want to deny you those opportunities.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back? He'd feel a lot of things. If it's gotten to the point where you are physically fighting him, it would feel like an act of psychic violence. You'd be brutalizing his psyche and ego, but in the heat of the moment, he'd even be proud of you.

Look at you behaving so fiercely, showing your teeth to the lion in its den. It reminds him of well... him.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape? Everything is a game to Aventurine. He's a gambler for fucks' sake. The world is just a series of games, one after the other. It's a black and white binary of wins vs losses.

There's a part of him that wants to see you try, to see just how much fate favored him. It wouldn't be out of a sense of enjoyment, but as an act of soul searching and selfish validation of his own existence

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope? Jealousy is a waste of mental resources, and it would cloud the bigger picture. He might lose a hand here or there, but the game isn't over. It doesn't matter what happens as long as he wins the pot.

If he were to feel jealousy, it would only be in the middle of a panic -- the kind of panic that only kicks in when he's staring defeat in the eye. In this state, he needs to play his cards very carefully to make sure the situation hasn't gone completely out of control. As long as there's still one more hand to play, he doesn't need to do anything drastic.

Right?

[the-modern-typewriter]

The sands devoured the landscape in every direction, a gaping yawn of yellows and reds. The protagonist's throat scorched dry. The last drops of their water bottle had been drained two hours ago.

They staggered another step forward on the dunes, squeezing their eyes shut against the breeze that somehow did nothing to alleviate the heat. They raised a hand to shield their face.

When they opened their eyes again, the antagonist stood in front of them. They looked as cool as ever, untouched by blistering day or the surprisingly freezing night.

"How is your great escape going?" the antagonist asked. They flicked their fingers, magic summoning a sweet pool of water into the inviting cup of their palm. "Are you ready to come home yet, darling?"

Option A: The protagonist shoved past the mirage, for it had to be a mirage, in silence. "I'm not your darling," they snapped, all the same. And they knew they could never go home again.

Option B: The protagonist's gaze dropped, despite their best efforts, to the tantalizing promise of water. It was all they could do not to drop to their knees there and then. The antagonist's smile shimmered across their face, glinting in their eyes. You can have it," the antagonist said. "If you ask nicely."

Option C: The protagonist's hands shot up, drawing up a protective ward. Their heart hammered. It was impossible that the antagonist was standing there, wasn't it? The citadel was barely in sight anymore. "Oh," the antagonist clicked their tongue. "That badly, huh? Poor thing."

Option D: "How are your desperate attempts to find me going?" the protagonist returned. "Ain't nothing but sand to see." "If you come back now, I won't be angry." The protagonist snorted. "I've got my own anger to contend with, after what you did. What do I care about yours?"

Option E: "Do you really think?" The antagonist stepped closer, holding their watery hand up to the protagonist's lips. "That distance alone would be enough to shatter the connection between us? This is silly. You know I don't like to see you suffer." The protagonist let the antagonist feed them a drop of water. A moment of weakness, perhaps. Or maybe just the familiarity of them, of the bond rattling in their chest. The thirst and the hunger. "Then close your eyes, love," they replied. "Look away and you won't have to."

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

Helllooo to one of the most amazing writer I know. I was wondering if you could write some hcs on everyone .Them going to the beach and how they would act :D

Seaswept Sands (All x MC/Reader - Beach HCs)

P A P S I C U M. >:}

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Seaswept: seaswept (not comparable) Located on the sea quotations.

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

This motherfucker hates the beach with a vehemence. He also hates sunscreen, but will still apply it to remain sexily pale.

It’s canon that Sol dislikes the ocean, so the only reason he’d be even remotely close to the beach is because of you.

He probably doesn’t even like sand. He’d rather simply just walk around the beach area. 

If you’re more of a beach lover, he’ll be reluctant to join you in the sand, and beg you to not make him go into the water.

Will wear all black and tie his hair up into a messy bun.

If you’re more of a rock investigator (irl me needs a medal for that tbh), he’s gonna avoid rock pools, mostly due to the fact he resents crabs.

Anything that can crawl on him gives him an ick (except if it’s you).

Probably will just find a cafe and order coffees for both of you, especially if you’re gonna swim. You’ll need something to help warm you up, after all.

Most likely just going to serve as a photographer, totally will not use said photos to jack off to you later so he can paint you later <3.

Will be tempted to murder the seagulls. Probably will wring at least one if it tries harassing him tbh- (you won’t find out dw).

Will supervise the bags and all of your belongings.

Also will drive you there and back. Will also prep the car with tons of towels so A. the car won’t get wet (only you’re allowed to be teehee) and B. so you’re not gonna freeze to death.

Hyugo would probably wear shark fins on his sides just to fuck with people.

He’s got extremely white teeth and (I headcanon) a very creepy grin for when he’s murdering intimidating people. So he’d 110% just very slowly emerge from the depths of the water (Pennywise-style) and scare off all the little kids in the vicinity.

His hair is everywhere around his face, and when he’s underwater it looks like a blue halo. One that you yank on when he’s unaware (and above water for fucks’ sake) to try and get him to yelp. (he may or may not accidentally moan but that’s a whole other story). Don’t worry he bites your ankle underwater in revenge.

He probably doesn’t care at all about what swimmers he wears, hell even Baby Shark merch will work for him. He will proudly display it as well. (balls of steel much??)

This guy hooves ice cream like it’s his last day alive. Maybe even iced coffee. He must consume sugar or he will implode.

Is gonna splash you. You both are gonna have water fights the entire time you’re there, until both of you are sopping wet and dripping with ocean water (and fish piss).

Mans will probably ask you to get piggybacked in the water, which tbf you attempt to, then he drags you both underwater.

Will forget to take photos. You’re gonna have to be responsible for that I’m afraid.

Will drive y’all there and back, blaring J-Pop on the radio and grinning maniacally. Be concerned.

This girl is going to be strutting into any beach, or any public place, looking the most glamorous of all.

Will wear a two-piece pink skort and bikini set 110%, will wear a translucent blouse over the top.

This girl will judge everyone else’s bikinis and swimmers more than actually doing something.

Although she isn’t opposed to going in the water, unless it’s cold – I headcanon Brittney hates the cold – you better not get her hair sopping wet, she will murder you and dump your body in a rock pool. <3

Will buy ice cream, she doesn’t seem the type to like salty foods tbh.

Will stalk up to you and ask what you want then vanishes.

She’s got herself a tanning bed btw.

Will read fashion magazines, maybe even do her beach aesthetic makeup. After all, she’s gotta be the hottest chick there. not that she isn’t already

Will eventually stick to building things out of sand, then getting annoyed and breaking them.

Is also going to shower before you, making sure she’s extremely clean before going to the car.

She drives btw.

Jess is the type to build sandcastles. I will fucking smite anyone who says otherwise.

If you both went to the beach, she’d be unwilling to enter the water, mostly due to the fact she def can't swim for shit, and also doesn't want her glasses to get wet (she hates goggles). Wears swimmers underneath a fucking oversized translucent blouse or something.

Would be the type to just plan ahead what exactly she’ll require to make the greatest sandcastle ever, and if that plan fails, she will be extremely sad for the next 2 hours.

Will be one of those people to bury their best friend/partner under the sand. Will put a lot of effort into making your mermaid tail look majestic.

You both will be eating ice cream under an umbrella, taking turns to take selfies (mostly you, she’d be very shy about having her face, she worries whether she’ll look dumb or not)

You both are gonna just watch over the belongings, and take turns showering at the beach so that (Jess’s) car is clean by the time you both get ready to leave.

You’d have had to win about 2000 bets with Geo to get him anywhere near a beach.

Would wear extremely dark gear, you’d not see any part of his body except his very wonderful head.

Will evade sand like it's the Black Plague.

Oh, just a warning, Geo is part fish.

He swims way too far for any sane human being. Hell, he doesn’t even swim, he just glides through the water. Deadpan. On his back. His hair is in a swimming cap btw, he’s not fucking risking damaging it. Also an avid sunscreen user, this man does not want to fucking tan, ew.

Will not eat anything there. He’s got standards. You’ll have to wine and dine him to get him to even sit down amongst all the other citizens of the city. Will reluctantly get you coffee though. He’ll probably only drink coffee if he craves it.

Will contemplate becoming a serial birdkiller; he hates birds. Their squawking makes him want to tear his eardrums out.

Will be extremely happy to walk along rocks, even boardwalking is better than actually being on the beach.

Will take aesthetic photos of the beach, especially if it's during the sunset. May or may not sneakily take some of you to store in his private stash.

Will also drive you both. He is never going to not drive, unless something drastic happens, like his arms getting cut off.

Crowe will have his hair down and is going to wear a stupidly wide-brimmed sun hat.

Is very careful about applying sunscreen, will check the UV rating multiple times.

Is going to watch over your shit and take really beautiful beach photos, will probably read a book silently under an umbrella. You mistook him for a woman one too many times.

Would make sure you don’t go too deep in the water, makes sure you swim between the flags as well.

Literally a walking, talking safety manual.

It’s okay you can shut him up later, with ball gags and a blindfold. <33

Will probs wear a Hawaiian shirt ngl (someone draw that). He’s a lot more relaxed at the beach. Will also be eating fancy af ice cream while lovingly watching you from afar. <3

Would be happy to search rock pools with you as well, in fact, any walking would do him well. He seems the type to love nature a lot.

Is going to be responsible for wrapping you in towels and ensuring you’re comfortable and your temperature is stable.

Will be the one to drive you both home. He can’t have you doing all the work, now can he?

Deryl will be fucking everywhere; this man loves the beach almost as much as he loves you.

Is going to buy as much food as humanly possible. You will have to remind him he cannot eat like a horse then expect to exercise, his stomach won’t be able to tolerate it. Will be disappointed after.

Tries to talk to the seagulls.

Will throw you into the ocean. Lovingly, of course.

Is also the type to get competitive with a bunch of teens over who can dig the deepest hole in the sand.

Will be looking for crabs, starts squealing from joy if he does see one.

Is probs gonna run across the sand with you (he wins every race you two have) shirtless. He’s gonna take ab pics.

You will not have a single normal looking photo with him, I'm sorry.

Although he does get you both a fuckton of food, so you’re not complaining.

You will have to drive both of your asses home though, he’s too excited to drive carefully enough.

[supercorpkid]

Would it really kill you if we kissed? Part 2

Supergirl. Baby Danvers. Kara Danvers x B!D!Reader, Alex Danvers x B!D!Reader, Lena Luthor x Reader, Esmé Danvers

Word Count: 3010

Previously on part 1. Part 2 of 3.

You start spending more time with Esmé, filling your days with her endless energy and her excitement over everything new on this island. You’d planned on being here for the family time anyway, but lately, it’s become easier to dodge Kara’s concerned glances and Lena’s quiet observations. Esmé, at least, never asks questions you’re not ready to answer.

It doesn’t stop Kara from trying, though. You find yourself slipping out of family dinners early, ducking behind palm trees when you spot her coming your way, feigning sleep when she knocks on your door at night. You know it’s getting obvious—Kara’s face fell when you bailed on last night’s dinner, and Alex’s knowing sigh was almost loud enough to break through the silence you’ve wrapped around yourself. But would they even understand if you told them?

Esmé’s simpler. When you’re with her, it’s just fun, silly games and laughter that doesn’t get weighed down by questions. For now, you let yourself hide behind that. That is until Esmé notices, of course. Kids always do, with that unfiltered clarity adults forget to keep.

It catches you by surprise when the two of you are building sandcastles, the sun heavy and warm, and she says, “I miss hanging out with Aunt Kara and Aunt Lena together. You know, like… like we used to.”

You tense, your hands pausing mid-sculpt. “They’re busy with grown-up stuff. It happens.”

Esmé gives you a look, so knowing it’s almost painful. “You’re a bad liar.”

You sigh, brushing sand from your fingers. “I guess I am.”

“Is it because of that thing you can't tell Aunt Kara, but you can tell my mom?”

It takes you by surprise, the perceptiveness of it, the way she’s pinpointed exactly what’s unraveling between you and your sisters without even understanding why. You swallow, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Sort of.”

“I wish I had a sister. If I did, I'd tell her everything! And she would be my best friend!”

"Well, your mom is my best friend and she is my sister too."

She spares a look over her shoulder, to Kara on the other side of the beach swimming alone in the ocean. "I bet Aunt Kara feels lonely."

It’s… whoa. A lot more insightful than you'd expect from a six-year-old.

Kara’s attempts to reach you haven’t gone unnoticed. She’s patient, but only for so long, and it’s clear to everyone around you that you’re holding her at arm’s length.  But what's worse is that you avoid Alex too, because you don't wanna tell her what happened. She's gonna tell you that you missed your chance to come clean, which is obvious and yet extremely unhelpful. 

It’s so evident you're keeping your distance, that when Lena finds you sneaking behind a bush one evening, she doesn’t even act surprised.

"Hey!" Lena’s voice makes you jump, her warm presence somehow amplifying your guilt. "Why are you hiding behind a bush? And why does it feel like I haven't seen you in days?"

"What? It hasn't been days." It has. She raises her eyebrows, and you smooth your hands over your clothes. "I thought I saw a hedgehog," you lie, forcing a smile. She doesn’t look convinced. "What are you up to?"

"I thought you and I could go on a walk," she says, her smile soft, irresistible. You’re about to argue, but she throws a cheap shot. "You know, you did promise me some alone time."

"Did I?" You try a joke, but, as with the last few attempts, it doesn’t quite land with her.

"You don’t have to come if you're more interested in the hedgehog. I could probably hold my own against the wild animals in the forest."

"Yeah, I’m sure you can, but I’d hate to miss you fighting a snake, so I might as well tag along. Wouldn’t want to miss the show."

"Very kind of you, darling." Lena’s eyes light up with humor, and the two of you start toward the nearest forest trail. It’s close to the resort—too close for any real wildlife, which is probably the point.

The conversation is supposed to be casual, just friends catching up. She asks about your thesis, even a few things about your superhero life. But as relaxed as it should be, you can’t shake the tension simmering beneath the surface. Every laugh, every shared glance, every tiny silence, and you’re swallowing feelings, nearly choking on unsaid words. Your heartbeat drums in your ears, terrified that one slip-up could give everything away.

"Kara is so thrilled to have you to share these experiences with. I bet it’s lonely, having to figure out this superhero lifestyle on your own."

"I don’t think I’m helping that much, to be honest. I’m just… following her lead most of the time."

"I think you're more important than you give yourself credit for." Lena touches your arm, her eyes soft and unwavering, making it impossible to shrug it off. "For everyone, not just Kara."

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” You mutter the words with such disbelief that Lena almost flinches.

She doesn’t let it go, though. She stops, making you pause too, her expression puzzled but determined.

"Y/N, darling." Just one word—darling—and your heart is pounding, each beat a tiny betrayal. "You know I mean it, right? We wouldn’t miss hanging out with you so much if you weren’t—"

"So fun to have around!" you cut in, your voice unnaturally bright.

Lena reaches for your hand, her gaze softening in a way that makes it impossible to hide. "If you weren’t so incredibly special."

This is it—the moment you could be honest, vulnerable, bare open like she is. But Kara might be in love with her. And she’s probably in love with your sister too, because who would choose you over Kara? No one. Not even you.

So you bite your tongue, force a smile, and watch the moment slip past. “Yeah, I—I don’t know. Maybe the superhero life just isn’t for me.”

“Oh.” Lena blinks, visibly thrown, and when you realize what you’ve just said, it’s too late. Can’t take it back. You’ve tried so hard to hide how you feel about her, you didn’t even think about the other secrets you need to protect.

“Not that I’ll stop!” you rush to reassure her. “I’d never stop supering and leave Kara to it. I just… wonder, sometimes. But, um, everyone wonders about things they’ll never act on, right?”

You can feel Lena’s gaze linger on you as you stumble through your words. Her silence feels weighty, loaded with questions she doesn’t voice. Instead, she’s watching you with that careful, gentle look she has—the one that makes you feel like she can see straight through every defense you’re barely managing to hold up.

“Y/N,” Her voice is low, softer than usual, and you can tell she’s choosing her words carefully. “If you ever feel like talking… Really talking, I mean—I’ll listen, you know that, right?”

You breathe deep, trying to keep your expression neutral, but the way she’s looking is too much; she’s seeing right through you, and every instinct you have screams to deflect, to put distance between you and that sharp, all-seeing gaze.

“I know, Lena. I just—” You pause, forcing the words clawing up your throat back down, swallowing hard against the sting of tears that threaten to break free. “I don’t have much to say right now, but… thank you.”

Her fingers brush down your arm slowly, lingering for a split second before letting go. She doesn’t push, but there’s something in her eyes, something searching, that leaves you feeling bare. She’s not fooled, you know that. But she doesn’t press further, only offers a soft nod.

“I just want to make sure you know that you’re not alone.” Her voice is so gentle, it makes your throat tighten.

Her words land with a bittersweet ache, a reminder of exactly how not alone you actually are—and yet, how impossible it feels to share any of it. You swallow, nodding a little too quickly, desperate to end this before you give yourself away completely.

“I appreciate it,” you mumble, unable to meet her eyes. “Anyway, uh… we should head back before it gets dark.”

A tiny smile curves her lips, one filled with patience, and it only makes the weight in your chest feel heavier. She sees through you, sees the things you’re too afraid to say. And as you walk back, her presence beside you is both comforting and unbearable, the knowledge that she’d listen if you let her like a gentle but relentless pressure against the wall you’re so intent on keeping up.

When you finally reach the resort, you mumble something about needing to freshen up before dinner, ducking away before she can say anything else. But her words stay with you, lingering in the back of your mind: you’re not alone.

Even though you've never felt as lonely and isolated as you do now.

This trip, this whole thing, was a really bad idea.

You throw together your bag in a rush, moving faster than any human eye could see. This trip was supposed to be a break, a chance to breathe—but with each day, it feels like the land on this tiny island is getting even smaller. There’s nowhere left to hide, and the weight of your secrets presses harder, threatening to escape the moment you open your mouth. It almost did with Lena, so you desperately need to leave.

You knock lightly on Alex and Kelly’s door, hoping not to wake Esmé. It’s late, but Alex answers quickly, slipping out into the hall and shutting the door quietly behind her. She gives you a concerned once-over, her expression softening in that big-sister way.

“What’s wrong?” she whispers. “Lena said you two hung out before dinner, but then you didn’t show up—”

“I’m going back to National City.” You say it quickly, barely letting the words settle before you look away, as if that might make it easier. Alex’s eyes shift down to your bag, and she lets out a long, disappointed sigh.

“You can’t keep running forever, you know.”

“No, but I can tonight.” You set your jaw, bracing yourself. Alex is going to try to talk you out of this, and you can’t let her. “I’ll help keep watch over National City with J’onn and M’gann. Say goodbye to Esmé for me.”

“Absolutely not. You want to leave her, you tell her yourself.” She opens the door a fraction, enough for you to glimpse Esmé’s little sneakers by the bed, and you feel something twist painfully in your chest. She knows it’ll be harder for you to look Esmé in the eye, to break your promise of a trip full of fun with her favorite aunt. “Man up.”

“Sexist,” you mutter, half-heartedly, as you step inside. But before you can call for Esmé, you freeze. Kara is sitting on the floor, her gaze sharpening the moment she sees you.

“You’re leaving?” She stands up, arms crossed, and in that moment, she doesn’t look much like your sister—she looks every inch of Supergirl, unyielding. Kelly clears her throat, mumbling something about checking on Esmé before slipping out of the small living room.

“Yeah, I have this… thing.”

“Is this ‘thing’ called a massive crush on Lena that you’re too scared to deal with?” Kara’s voice is quiet but piercing, an eyebrow arching as she studies you, making you feel as transparent as glass. “Or is this ‘thing’ a problem you’ve got with me?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Oh yeah, I forgot everything has to be about you.”

Before you can get another word out, she’s right in front of you, moving faster than even you expected.

“It’s becoming about me because you keep dodging me and shutting everyone out,” she says firmly. “You have to stop running, Y/N. Why won't you deal with your problems like an adult?”

“Oh my God! Is there a version of this conversation where you don’t sound like my mother?”

“I don't know. Is there a version where you don’t sound like a moody teenager?” She fires back, voice sharp as a blade.

"Go to hell, Kara," you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper, knowing full well she’ll catch every word. You try to push past her, but she steps in your way, resolute, daring you to challenge her. Fine. If she wants a fight, you’ll give her one.

“Stop acting so tough,” you say, each word sharp and unyielding. “You’re not Alura. You’re not Eliza. You’re not even my oldest sister.” You pause, just long enough to let it sink in, to make sure she feels the sting. "You don’t get to act like you’re in charge."

Kara flinches, just a fraction, but you catch it. And part of you hates that it hurts her—almost as much as the rest of you wants it to.

A hand catches your arm as you make to leave, and you know it’s Alex without even looking. Her grip isn’t harsh, but it’s inflexible, the quiet authority of someone who knows exactly what they’re doing.

“This has gone too far.” she says, her voice low.

“Alex,” you say, a warning lacing your tone. But your sister doesn’t budge. She’s as immovable as Kara in her own way, and you can tell from her stance that she’s done letting this slide.

“No. You tell her now, or I will.” The seriousness in her voice roots you to the spot, and you stare at her in disbelief. “Don’t test me, Y/N. This has gone on too long.”

“Alex,” you plead, the warning fading, replaced by something that feels like betrayal. “I trusted you.”

But Alex’s stance only hardens. She glances at Kara, crossing her arms in front of her chest, each movement deliberate, telling you in no uncertain terms that this is the line she won’t let you cross.

“You want to know what’s going on?” your voice comes out loud, it's almost a yell in the quiet of the night, voice cracking as you throw the question back at them, your fists clenched so tight they’re shaking. “Fine. Let’s do this. You want honesty? Here it is.”

Kara and Alex fall silent, but they’re staring, eyes wide. You can’t tell if they're surprised or concerned, and for once, you don’t care.

“I’m in love with Lena,” you spit out, practically choking on the words. “There it is. Happy? But it doesn’t matter, because she’s yours, Kara. Everyone is. Everyone who matters, everyone I could ever care about, they’re all yours.”

“I don't—” Kara starts, but you’re not finished. Not even close.

“Don’t!” you snap, cutting her off. “You have no idea what it’s like to be around you, day after day, having to act like it doesn’t kill me. Watching you looking at her like… Like I do. And I just—” Your voice wobbles, a tremor of frustration bubbling up with the tears you’re fighting to keep down. “I just get to stand there and smile and play the part of your perfect little sister, like I should just be grateful to even be a part of your story.”

Alex takes a step toward you, hands up, but you move away, barely holding it together, so you don't hurt her. “Do you know how exhausting it is? How much do I dread putting on the suit, being the hero, pretending this is all I ever wanted? Because it’s not. It’s never been. I hate it," your voice comes out so raw, your throat hurts afterwards. "and I can’t even tell anyone that because you’d all look at me like I’d failed you. Both of you would.”

Alex steps back the slightest, her face twisted in a mix of surprise and sadness. Kara looks stricken, her mouth parting like she wants to say something, but you don’t give her the chance. You’re too far gone, the anger pushing past your better judgment.

“You get to be perfect, and I get to be… what? The second-rate version of you? The one who’s not quite as brave, not quite as good?” You only realize you're crying when you taste your own tears. “The one people don't even glance at because they are too busy looking at you — the super girl. And now you want me to watch you with the person I love too? You just get to take everything.”

"That's not true! None of it is—" Kara reaches out, but you take a step back, hands up like it’s a shield. 

“You don't get it! So don’t—just don't.”

Her expression crumples, and for the first time, you see the real hurt reflected back at you. But the ache inside you is too loud, too sharp to ignore. A small part of you feels vindicated, glad that she’s hurting too—at least now you’re not the only one carrying the weight of pain.

You turn away, ready to escape the suffocating atmosphere, but Alex’s voice cuts through the tension, pulling you back.

"Y/N, wait." Alex tries, voice sweet like you didn't even know she could master. "Let's all take a breath and just… talk about it."

"Oh no," You turn to her. "you don't get to do this. I trusted you with this, and you just—” You can’t find the words, the tears breaking free, your voice shaking. "You just chose Kara over me. Like everyone does. So you don't get to ask me for anything." The next words leave from the depths of your core, it shakes the entire room. "NONE OF YOU get to ask me for ANYTHING!" 

Sometimes hours can feel like minutes, and sometimes a single second can last a lifetime.  "I'm done pretending we're one big happy family." This is it. This is that second. The second you burned every bridge, every connection you've had and flew away from it.

[why-its-kai]

Scans of the "Monthly Satellite Times" newspaper insert included in the Trigun Stage 4 Laserdisc release!

Scanned, stitched together, and newsprint paper texture removed by me. Non-edited scans under the cut.

[brandwhorestarscream]

part 2 of D-16 carrying Sentinel’s sparkling please?

Your wish is my command, anon! I had a lotta people asking for this, so many messages! Ya'll are so sweet, I really appreciate it, so thanks for that! Let's get right into it ^-^ part 1 is here, part 3 here, part 4 here!

Orion is at his side in an instant, yelping, "Dee, no! Stop, you'll hurt yourself!" As he forcibly grabs his friend's servos to stop him from tearing himself apart. D-16 shrieks a wordless noise of agony, and then collapses forward onto Orion to begin sobbing violently into his shoulder. Clutching onto him like a lifeline, wailing with all the devastated force he can. Bawling against Orion and falling to pieces, brokenly asking what he's going to do. 

Orion numbly wraps his arms around Dee, letting his chin fall onto his shoulder. His arms slowly tighten, til he’s clinging with near-denting force, and his optics begin to sting with tears too. It hits him later than it did D-16, what exactly Sentinel did to them. That he intentionally got them drunk and lied to them, he lied, lied, lied about them being special and lied about caring for them, all so he could make them pop their panels. It sinks in, slowly, exactly what he took from them: he robbed them of their first time, something that should’ve been one of the tenderest, loving moments of their lives. He used them and threw them away just because he could. He ravaged their bodies selfishly, under false pretenses, without a care for how it would effect them. He touched their sparks. He raped them, both of them, and a sob suddenly flies past Orion’s lips. It hits him all at once, with a feeling like a train has just plowed into his chassis full-force, and all he can do is cling onto D-16 and wail. They cry together, desperately holding onto each other there on the cavern, weeping with all the force of their broken, disgusted sparks.

Alpha Trion stands vigil over them, observing in sorrow, letting them mourn and grieve all that they’ve lost. His spark aches for them. Poor, poor children… they’re so young. Too young to be forced to weather something like this, such an egregious sin… he watches Elita approach them with a haunted look on her face, B-127 wandering closer in her shadow, and she reaches a trembling servo to gently rest on Orion’s shoulder. He grabs onto her wrist like a lifeline, face angling up to look at her lost and broken, optics shattered and expression void of all hope. She bows her helm, mouth pressed into a thin line and lips trembling. Struggling not to cry for them. B-127 creeps closer and, after hesitating for a moment, pads forward to glom onto D-16’s arm. He’s silent as the bigger mech cries, patting at his arm and trying desperately to think of something he can do. But there’s nothing, not really, nothing in the universe could ever soothe a pain like this.

They cry until they can’t shed any more tears, til their bodies have completely exhausted their optical cleanser and lubricant stores, and they’re left dry sobbing and shuddering in exhaustion, slumping against one another and barely upright. It hurts. It hurts. Everything hurts.

“...little one,” Alpha Trion gently addresses D-16 at last, stepping forward and flicking the last of his tears off his face. “I cannot undo what has been done to you, but I can offer to relieve one of your burdens.”

D-16 sniffles miserably, still huddled close to Orion where they’re now sitting side by side on the floor. Orion is cross-legged, face in his servos, with Dee snuggled close against his side, his helm cradled on the blue mech’s shoulder. “Wh…” his voice creaks like a rusty hinge. “What do you…?”

Alpha Trion steps back and raises his palms to the sky, optics closing and exhaling a great puff of air. “ONYX!” his deep voice echoes through the cavern like a clap of thunder. “Onyx, my brother, I beseech you. Speak to this child in my place!”

A warm wind blows in from nowhere, with such force it disturbs the magnetic sand all around them. It begins to swirl, lifting from the ground and into the air to form a funnel, billions of grains chasing one another around and around and forming a curtain around Alpha Trion’s body. They cluster around and seem to consume him, rushing over his plating and molding to his form like a second coat of paint. His helm drops back so his face is parallel to the ceiling, then he gasps as his optics fly open. No longer blue, but a warm, crackling orange-and-pink, like a freshly lit hearth.

He stumbles forward, unsteady on his pedes, taking to one knee and his left palm touching the floor as he stabilizes. “Oh…” when he speaks, it is not Alpha Trion’s voice. He’s… a bit higher pitched. Warmer. Even gentler. “Mother… mercy…”

He shakes his helm and the sand stubbornly clings, before at last he raises his face, zeroing in on the frightened, confused quartet.

“Oh…” he straightens up, optics drifting from each of their faces before focusing wholly on D-16. His expression slips from bafflement to a sort of pained compassion. Not quite pity, but if the way his mouth turns down and his optics narrow with sorrow are any indication, his spark aches for them. “Oh, dear…”

“D-Did he say-” B-127’s optics are impossibly wide, and he’s frozen on the spot, unable to move his pedes. “O-Onyx Prime-?”

“Indeed,” he nods in affirmation, straightening up. Though he remains in Alpha Trion’s body, the sand constructs his visage, shaping around the crests of his helm and fanning out on his back to take the form of his wings. Wings that were missing from his corpse. “Though I wish our meeting was under less dire circumstances, children.”

���Y- You’re-” Elita is starting to frown, inching in front of her group with one arm out. “You’re… th-the god of death-” Oh, Primus. Is he here to reap their sparks? Has Alpha Trion channeled him here to take them away?!

“Do not fear, little one. Peace,” Onyx holds up one servo, and his optics glimmer with warmth. He smiles, gently, hoping to put them at ease. “I mean you no harm. I shepherd over the dead, those who have already passed on. I help them find their way home to Primus, and assist them in seeking rebirth, but I am not here to be your reaper. Please… do not be afraid.”

He approaches them and kneels down just before D-16, looking deep into his optics. “Brother Alpha has called me here to speak to you, child.”

“M-” Dee is clinging tight to Orion, spark pulsing in fear. This- This is death incarnate! They said his hands could bleed a spark from it’s frame with a single touch! They said he lorded over the afterlife and knew everyone’s date and time of death to the millisecond. Having him here, specifically to speak to him, made his throat threaten to close in panic. “Me?”

“Yes,” Onyx Prime’s servo gently touches his helm and he yelps, they all do, flinching away. But after several seconds he realizes, wait… he can still feel everything. He can still feel Orion beside him, can still feel the warm gush of his vents. Actually… he feels better. Physically, anyway: his frame is already beginning to lower it’s heightened temperature back into the green zone, the insistent, horrible pain in his tanks is abating. His optics peak open, and finds Onyx still there, smiling kindly at him. “Please… you needn’t be afraid. I swear to you, upon my graves, I shall not harm you.”

“Wh…” Elita gulps. “Why are you…?”

His optics drift lower, to D-16’s chassis and abdomen. His expression saddens. “You've been forced to endure something terrible… oh, you poor, poor thing…”

The Prime pulls his servo away from Dee’s helm, though not before giving him an affectionate pat. “Listen to me, little one. You are young, you are hurt, and the journey ahead will be very difficult regardless of the path you take. Forcing you to bear this sparkling forced upon you would be a great cruelty if it is not your choice to do so. If you would like, I will take them and return to the Allspark.”

D-16’s spark slams to a stop in his chest. He stiffens, and Orion sits up straighter beside him. Elita’s mouth falls open.

“Wh… What are you…”

“It won’t cause you nor them any pain. They will be safe, and you shall not be punished for it,” he nods down at him. “I know this one, as I know all of them. They are a good spark, they will not resent you if you don’t wish to birth them. They will love you just the same, just as I will, and just as Primus will. The choice is entirely yours, little one.”

Dee’s audials start to ring, and he presses both palms to his chassis. It’s warm, overly warm as it has been the last several decacycles, and before he’d thought it was the heat of fever, but now he knows it is because he hosts an infant soul anchored to his.

He feels frozen in place. He- he could… Onyx Prime would…?

He sobs again and covers his mouth, bowing his helm. “I- I don’t-” he chokes. “I d-don’t know! I don’t know, I- I dunno, I-”

Does he want this sparkling? Does he? He doesn’t know! When Alpha Trion had announced his state, he’d been so happy. Over the moon in fact, beaming with pride and so excited to share the news. They were living proof of his and Orion’s tryst with Sentinel, proof that they were loved and important, and they were so indescribably precious. Now, though… now, they’re… they’re…

Primus, he doesn’t know what they are! He wants to curse them, wants to rip them from his spark chamber and toss them away so there’s no evidence of what that monstrous false Prime had done to him. He doesn’t want to remember, doesn’t want a constant, hideous reminder of the worst thing to ever happen to him.

But… the part of him that was previously excited wars with the other half of him. He doesn’t know that that’s what this sparkling will be. He’d been so excited, so happy, and now in it’s place there’s sadness and horror, and yet another part of him is so angry and repulsed and… and…!

He sobs again, clawing at his helm. “I DON’T KNOW!” he shouts, grinding his denta. “I don’t know, ok?! I don’t know!” how can he? Everything is such a mess in his helm, emotions at war and raging back and forth, grappling for dominance and all trying to shove the other down. He’s scared. He’s hurt. He’s sparkbroken. This is his first sparkling. Perhaps once he’d dreamed of this day, but pictured it so differently, hand in hand with someone who meant more to him than anything else, both of them with transformation cogs because they were good and hardworking and had been rewarded for their efforts. Perhaps he had dreamt of a home, with- with someone special, and a family with one or even two precious sparklings. It was a dream that was supposed to be achieved far into the future. Now, broken as he is, he worries it never will. Never can. It would be an impossibility, as he is now… if he kept this sparkling, he would have to look at it every day knowing he did not love the sire, and never could. He would have to look upon them as their only parent and know that his dreams of a happy life died long before they were even born.

But… if he lets them go, if he lets the god of the dead pluck them from his chest, he might never be fortunate enough to conceive again. What if this first sparkling is his only sparkling, and in letting them go, he loses his one chance? It’s too soon, it’s too early, and circumstances are dire, but… is he prepared to let them go? Knowing this could very well be his only chance?

D-16 sobs again, and Orion’s arm wraps around his shoulder, pulling him close against his chassis. Dee’s face burrows into his neck, whole body shaking as he whimpers again and again that he just doesn’t know!

“...peace, my little one,” Onyx Prime’s voice is rife with sadness and empathy. “You need not make a choice now, or even today. I… I apologize for bringing you further distress, but please know,” he places his right servo over his spark in oath. “The Primes are with you. When you make your choice, utter a prayer to me, and I will come to you if you require my aid.”

With a sigh, all of the sand suddenly falls from Alpha Trion’s body with the whisper of countless grains trickling to the floor, and when he blinks his optics become blue once more. “Ah…” he takes note of their distress, and shakes his helm sadly. “Poor children… rest. You are weary. Rest, and I will feed you.” once they’ve eaten and had time to process, he can reveal more to them, but that can wait.

They have suffered enough for one day. 

...

And that's where I'm gonna cut part 2! Poor, poor Dee... this is the worst day of his life, but at least he has Orion to support him. I hope ya'll enjoyed this angst nugget :3 if you want part 3, ya'll know what to do. Abuse the crap out of my ask box lol. Gimme your thoughts or predictions as well, that's always fun

[jelly-fishie]

Toji N$FW Alphabet 🖤

A-Z

WARNING: MDNI PLEASE

A - After care

Honestly he's not that big on after care, it's not the first thing that comes to mind when hes finished with you But if you ask he'll probably use your money to go get some food or something maybe even cuddle for a bit if your lucky.

(he secretly loves looking after you and actually will clean make the bed thing like that etc, while you clean up)

B - Body part (fav part of you and him)

Toji very obviously has a favourite bit of you because its always the part covered in hickeys, which just happens to be your ass and tits, your best assets of course.

Toji's very confident about his looks, he knows he's attractive. More importantly he knows just how much you love his arms, and if you love them then he loves them too. (i mean he did anyway but maybe just a little bit more with you liking it too.)

C - C0m3 (anything to do with it)

Toji is dirtyyyy But he hates cleaning it up so he'll make sure he only gets it on you. Its like sand at the beach youll still find little bits of it hours later. He especially loves getting it on your chest and face, and maybe even a little bit all over your ass.

D - dirty secret

This man has a scent kink… yeah. He loves the way you smell… yeah sure the perfume or cologne is nice and the body lotion smells good but… he loves the smell of your natural musk. If you’re working out together and he gets horny because you’re teasing him by doing squats? He’ll nearly pounce on you because he knows you're sweaty. He is addicted to it, shamelessly dipping his head between your thighs and running his nose along your inner thighs, inhaling so deeply it makes you squirm because you know what he’s doing but you can’t get the words out. I’m telling you, he’s a filthy, freaky mother fucker… the dirtier the better… but not too dirty, ya know? 

E - experience (how experienced are they?)

This man is probably nearly a hundred digits in his body count, over the past 20 years or so. He slept around a lot before mamaguro and Then became the most loyal loving mf before she unalived. After she did i reckon he didn't actually get it on with anyone for at least a year or 2.

Anyway you get the point he's very experienced.

F - favourite position

Oh he loves doggy style or you in his lap, He's strong so he could up you up for hours. He just loves watching you squirm and moan beneath him as his cumfills you up. Jesus even the thought of that image makes him hard.

His real favourites are 69 or reverse cowgirl. Anything where he has a hold of your ass really.

G - Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Honestly i think toji is more teasing then goofy, it all really depends on what you like. (he will tease you regardless but maybe a bit less if you say you dont like it.)

H - Hair (are they well groomed?)

He doesn't really care about it really, he'll wash and maybe trim if it gets annoying or if you ask him. If he's in a serious relationship with you he'll have a little more maintenance, he likes pruning.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's pretty serious during the moment, maybe an unintentional joke or two and some teasing but other then that 100% serious. He does tend to get a little awkward during the romantic aspect, he wont mutter any "I love yous.." or anything like that. He'll make up for it in praise or dirty talk.

J - Jacking off

Anywhere, anytime, any place. If he needs to get off and you arent there hes grabbing your lotion and looking at your home movies. You've walked in on him a few times but that doesn't stop him and he just ask you to join him, saying the videos 'aren't enough for him'.

K - Kink (one or more)

This man has so many kinks i dont even know where to start, personally hes been associated with breeding and daddy kink (Not so found of the daddy kink) soo often and honestly i kinda agree, he loves seeing a little bulge in your stomach, whether its his dick causing it or something else he loves it.

He also seems like the kind of guy to do anal, but he wouldn't really do it unless you said something, but the minute you do the pants are off. He also loves bdsm, pain and spanking all that, in fact he'd get his nips pierced if he didnt think he'd pop a boner when he got it down.

L- Location and length (where he prefers it, how long it lasts. 2 in 1)

Toji is more then willing to do it anywhere, he's the kind of guy to do it in the mens bathroom if you guys really wanted too but the older he gets and the longer he's with you the more privacy he wants, dont get me wrong he's still down for anything but he appreciates the privacy more.

He likes to take his time with you as well, making sure your always satisfied at the end of it.

M - Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He loves seeing you get dressed up, walking around in a bodycon dress showing off your figure or walking around dolled up in a new lingerie set (it could literally be plain black he'd still be all over you.) with a nice perfume and your right but in bed.

If you dont feel like dressing up just cuddle in his lap and give him a little nibble or two on his neck, that really gets him going.

N - No's (thing they would absolutely never do)

While he likes pain he would never draw blood using things like a knife or pins or anything that could seriously harm you, he might accidentally bite you too hard but event that he slightly dislikes.

Since he's a father of sorts he really hates things like age play or Being called daddy. He's not totally against calling you ma or mama to tease you but that's it.

O - Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Oh this man loves eating you out, sometimes he'll spend more time eating you out then actually fucking you, he loves feeling you squirt all over him and licking the rest off of you. He certainly also doesnt mind when you go down on him, but personally he prefers your pussy.

P - Pace (are they fast, slow, sensual?)

Honestly it totally depends on the mood and how you like it. He usually adjusts it to the fit the both of you, but this man is naturally rough and fast, but hes just as capable of taking it easy.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He'll never pass up an opportunity with you, whether its make up sex or a two minute blow. Quickies arent his favourite but he's always up for it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Toji's old enough and experienced to know what he likes and what he doesn't, but if you manage to bring him something new he'll always consider it..

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Oh toji can go for HOURS. You'll rarely have less then 3 rounds with him. He could probably go for a day or two if he really really wanted to.

T - Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yes, but mainly on you, toji doesn't really use them for himself, maybe a cock ring or something. On you, however as long as your buying it he'll help or watch you use anything

U - Unfair (how much they like to tease) 

Oh he’s evil. Toji will damn near torture you just for his own satisfaction. He’s so mean to you in bed but he’ll make sure you cum. So I guess you can’t necessarily say he’s “unfair” in that aspect

V - Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Its all moans and groans from this man, he'll whisper a few curses under his breath but that's it. Unless you've been going for a while, then you start hearing low sort of sound, whines almost.

W - Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

You both make home videos, and with your permission of course he posts a few of them. He always blurs out faces and important details to keep anonymity. In fact you guys make a pretty penny on it every time the check comes in, you also love reading all the weird dirty comments together and laugh at them.

X - X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

This man is hung and no one can convince me otherwise, in fact its hard for him to get it all in seeing as he grows to 8 inches max, and the human vagina can only take seven. Speaking of pussy he stretches you out good. He's not only long but wide too.

Y - Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Honestly I'd say it's kind of low, he kinda just lets it build up over the week until you get in the mood or he needs to get off and lets it all out.

Z - Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Toji can knock out in 10 seconds or 10 minutes. It depends on how rough he was with you because he’s trying to get better with aftercare. He wants to at least clean you up and make sure you’re okay before knocking out and snoring like a bear for the next eight hours. 

He also always wants to have cuddled up and spooned up for a little while after, he likes the feeling of being loved/domesticated.

[huariqueje]

Untitled , Fish Sands - Narbi Price , n/d.

British , b. 1979 -

Acrylic on board , 70 x 100 cm.

[gothgleek]

Agnus Tully- NSFW Alphabet

I do not own the Holdovers nor the images used in this post. All thoughts are my own. The borders are from @saradika-graphics

TW: sexual acts, kinks, parental issues, mention of mental hospitals, porn.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but not required 🌸🌼🌸

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Really cuddly and clingy but quiet. He’ll pepper you with kisses and praise, but he’s the one who needs more attention afterwards.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

We all know Agnus is a breast man. You will need to snap your fingers a few times before his eyes can tear away from looking down your shirt. Pervert.

He also LOVES biting them and marking you up.

His favorite part of himself is his legs. He takes a lot of pride of being tall and take any opportunity he can to show them off. Hence the James Bond trunks.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He has a paralyzing fear of parenthood but he LOVES cumming inside you unprotected. Especially if he can watch it drip out of you before he eats you out. He wouldn’t mind painting your tits with his cum either. He’ll take a pic of you like that too and ruin it later.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He steals your underwear and uses it to jerk off. He’s also into roleplay but he hasn’t found the right time to bring it up.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

His only previous experience comes from porno mags. Maybe he had a partner or two in college, but I doubt it got anywhere emotionally. Regardless, you’re his first MAJOR relationship either as FWB or serious partners.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mating press. Pretzel dip. The butterfly. As long as he can stare into your eyes and have your legs in his hands, he will be a happy man. Also you against the wall, him in his knees so he can give you oral and try to make your legs shake.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Half his dirty talk is him being sarcastic shit. Other times he has to keep himself from laughing at your cum drunk expressions because he’s proud he did that to you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

This is the 70s so he’s trying to grow chest hair and a bush. However, he’s very particular and he trims himself.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Once he’s in love, he will make sure you know. However, he’s still Agnus so he might be a little shit about it. He’ll whisper sweet nothings while pounding you or while he teases you. Nonetheless, he’s his most romantic during aftercare.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As much as he tries to deny it, he loves jacking off. The dorms make it hard for him to do it as much as he wants but as soon as he’s whipping it out. He’s quick too, to the point he was worried he wouldn’t be able to control himself when he fucks you. Thankfully that’s not an issue.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Taking pics of you as we’ve established. Role-play as well. Due to his many boarding schools, he’s developed an appreciation for uniforms. He’s also warming up to having a minor religious kink. The two of you definitely role played as James Bond and a damsel before though.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s got an exhibitionist kink in him so the woods and library are the most fun for him. One time the two of you fucked at an open air concert. But he loves fucking in his room so the two of you can nap and cuddle after.

He hates the beach though. He took you on a family vacation once and sand got everywhere when the two of you fucked.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Thank god for the sexual revolution and its hatred for bras. Low cut tops and kindness. That’s what attracts him to you. Also when you wear a low cut top and beat him at pinball, that’s when he is all over you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Restraining him (ropes, handcuffs, etc.) reminds him of his father so that’s a no-go. Maybe he’ll warm up to the idea of restraining you but not for a long time. Nurse roleplay he’s on the fence about because he could jack off to the idea or a pic of a sexy nurse but he could not get turned on irl for similar reasons. Also not fond of daddy kinks but would be open to a mommy kink. He’s not gonna talk to a therapist about it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves eating you out. And then you introduce him to rimming and he is excited about tasting more of you. He doesn’t even need to touch himself, he will rut against the bed while eating you out. He loves your blowjobs as well but he keeps his hands to himself, pulling his sheets and clawing the walls.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He actually prefers slow and sensual (though no less kinky). Why shouldn’t he take his time with you? Even if it’s a quickie his mouth is everywhere on you, drawing it out as much as possible.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

While he loves taking his time, he has an appreciation for quickies as well given the lack of privacy he’s always had. If you fucked before dating, it would’ve been mostly quickies but now that you’re together, it’s longer. He’s more willing to have a quickie when it’s a stressful time for the both of you (family trouble, finals week, traffic jam, etc.).

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

The great part about the 70s is the sexual revolution. He would be down to experiment with almost anything. Repression is known for creating super kinky people after all. Both of you keep notes about each place and position you’ve fucked, well well as a running list of what kinks you would try again.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

When you first get together, he doesn’t last very long but after a quick break, he’s ready to go again.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Thanks to the sexual revolution (and his wallet), the two of you have more than enough toys. Unfortunately Google tells me sex toys were scary looking during this time so the once the excitement of sex toy shopping wears off, you really only stick to the vibrators. Maybe once nipple clamps are more popular, he’ll have you wear them as well. Your favorite toy to share is the famous hitachi massager.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves teasing you soooo much. He’s such an asshole about it too, teasing you anywhere from a car ride to the library to bed. He enjoys someone he can banter with too so he will take anything you’ve said to him and throw it back in your face later. Absolute menace.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s chatty at first (he LOVES dirty talk) but when he really gets into it, he will just be panting, all words lost. When he finishes, it’ll be a low moan in your ear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s a biter and will mark the hell out of you. Especially your thighs and breasts and ass. Also he had, at one point, made a sex playlist but stopped using it when he couldn’t hear you over the music.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Long but not girthy. Curved. Cut. Grower, not a shower. A nice little happy trail as well.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high. The poor guy is so touch starved, he can’t keep his hands off you. Even if he’s not horny, he acts like it and is always touching you, just so he can tease you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He needs to hold onto you before he falls asleep. He’s secretly romantic and likes to match your breathing and circle his thumb in your skin. When it’s a quickie though? He turns into the energizer bunny and won’t burn out until hours later.

[vintagelasvegas]

Sands Hotel & Casino '52-'96

Sands, December 1952

'46: Kit Carson Club opened by H. Bynum, D. Anderson, G. Frisbee on US Hwy 91 outside of Las Vegas, adjacent to Kit Carson Motel. The club will later become LaRue nightclub, then the Garden Room of the Sands Hotel.

'50: Kit Carson Club reopened as LaRue nightclub opened by Billy Wilkerson, Nola Hahn, 12/23/50.

'51: LaRue closed by summer. Mack Kufferman buys LaRue, and hires architect Wayne McAllister to build around the existing club. Kuffman and partners apply for gaming license. The project is called Sands by 12/51.

'52: Kufferman gaming license denied in Apr., sells to Jake Freedman (RG 4/9/52, RG 6/13/52). Partners running the Sands are B. Barron, E. Levinson (casino manager), S. Wyman, J. Entratter (showroom & restaurants). Hidden partners are believed to include J. Stacher, M. Lansky. Sands road sign designed by McAllister, built by YESCO. Sands opens 12/15/52 with 200 rooms in five buildings arranged in Y-shaped layout. The guest wings are named after race tracks: Arlington Park, Belmont Park, Haileah, Rockingham Park, Santa Anita. Three other wings of equal size were added circa ’53-54 (two were named Churchill Downs, Hollywood Park), another by ’58, and larger wing by ’60. The total room count in ’60 was 465.

'53: Frank Sinatra plays his first engagement at the Sands and becomes two percent owner in Oct; Carl Cohen joins the Sands as shareholder and casino manager in Oct.

'54: Sign modification: Second reader board added below the main board, Feb or earlier. Antonio Morelli joins the Sands as musical director for the Copa in Jul.

'55: Sands partners assume control of the Dunes in Sep. They sell the Dunes in four months later.

'58: Jake Freedman dies 1/19/58; Jack Entratter becomes Sands president.

'59: Sign modification: Attraction board attached to the sign, Feb or earlier. Baccarat begins at the Sands.

'60: Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr, Peter Lawford, and Joey Bishop (the "Rat Pack") are first billed together in the Copa in Jan-Feb. during the filming of Ocean's 11. Senator John F. Kennedy visits during the Democratic primary campaign.

'63: Opening of Aqueduct hotel wing (83 rm) in Apr. Julius Gabrielle, architect (RJ 4/28/63). Sinatra surrenders ownership 10/7/63.

'64: Sands acquires the former Kit Carson Motel; Belmont and Arlington buildings (base of the Y) moved southward to accommodate construction of a hotel tower.

'65: Second sign in Aug; tower completed late in the year and officially opened Jan. ’66. Martin Stern Jr, architect.

'67: Howard Hughes buys the Sands, 7/23/67. Sinatra leaves his Sands residency after confrontation with Cohen, 9/11/67.

'69: Dean Martin leaves Sands to join Riviera.

'71: Entratter dies, 3/8/71.

'73: Cohen leaves the Sands, Jan. '73.

'80: Inns of America buys the Sands from Hughes heirs Summa Corp in Oct.

'82: Third sign, new porte-cochère, marking the completion of remodeling effort including new Copa room, 1/15/82.

'83: Summa Corp reassumes control of the Sands, 4/5/83.

'88: Kirk Kerkorian buys the Sands in Jan. Kerkorian sells to Interface Group led by Sheldon Addison in Apr.

'90: Sands Expo and Convention Center opens.

'94: Remodeling of the casino.

'96: Sands closes 6/30/96. Tower demolished 11/26/96.

Photos of the Sands

Sources include David G. Schwartz. At the Sands: The Casino That Shaped Classic Las Vegas, Brought the Rat Pack Together, and Went Out With a Bang. December 1952 photo courtesy of Slidetreasurehunt.

Construction of the sign, 1952. The pylon sign pedestal was 56’ high, 21’ wide, with the S at 34’ tall. Design by Wayne McAllister, fabricated and installed by Young Electric Sign Co. Photo: YESCO Corporate Records (MS-00403), UNLV Special Collections & Archives.

Opens Dec 15. Danny Thomas, Connie Rusell, Lou Wills Jr, Ray Sinatra Orchestra. Nevada State Museum, Las Vegas, 0007-0345.

Aerial view of Kit Carson Motel and the Sands, '62