#and it makes my stomach twist and ping pong across my chest cavity

[monofazz]

Shattered Glass makes me violent and sick actually.

inspired by zorangezest and this set of tags in the reblogs in particular

[axemetaphor]

I wanted to do Something in this Fine Hour of midnight now 2am but my hands hurt from drawing so I wrote instead and also, didn’t proofread this so pardon any mistakes

in order words i tried to figure out how it’d be to see somebody with dormant Chaos Powers during the event that triggers their powers so, i wrote how i kinda sorta think that could play out with Toxic. This isn’t canon to their story but if I like it in the morning maybe it will be?

‘cause they’re the only one of my OCs for whom that wouldn’t be a gruesome experience

The sky is grey with smoke, courtesy of both the exhaust from Robotnik’s massive robo-suit and the various fires started up by his latest sidekick. Sonic skids to a stop, sliding backwards with one palm grazing the ground, covered in dirt and bruises; the metal arm that just cleaned his clock is spinning in midair, settling back into place, and he grinds his teeth together as he realizes this situation is more than a little difficult to deal with. Reaching into hammerspace, he slides the red Chaos Emerald into this world, gripping it tightly.

“What, you’re gonna do that?” Toxic yells, taunting him. Sonic shoots the red porcupine an irritated glare, hefting the red Emerald in his hand. This guy’s starting to get on my nerves, he thinks, standing up tall. It’s been a rough fight already--Eggman’s Chaos Emeralds outnumber his two to one--and to make matters worse, this obnoxious newcomer’s back, getting all up in his face again. He shouldn’t’ve been surprised to see them on Eggman’s side, but he was; they seemed like way too much of a loose cannon for Eggman’s taste. But maybe he was mistaken. After all, Shadow had been a bit of a loose cannon, too, at the beginning.

“Just go home,” Sonic snaps. He’s not too keen on fighting someone without Chaos Powers. The last thing he wants to do is hurt a civilian, regardless of how annoying they are, but this is the final warning for him.

For some reason, that seems to get under their skin, and the cruel sneer twists instantly into a snarl of anger. They spring from the rubble they were perched on, dashing at him almost comically slowly. Maybe if they took off those ridiculous boots, they’d be faster, he thinks as he prepares to sidestep another barrage of fire. Sure enough, they lift that bizarre Great-Value-esque Wispon and pull the trigger, fire spewing forward as they strafe sideways to avoid blowback. He zips out of the way, looping around them to head for Robotnik himself, leaping into the sky and spin-dashing right at the giant machine, but he wasn’t paying attention during his little exchange with the porcupine, failing to realize Robotnik was definitely ready to counter that sort of attack. A massive arm swings out and smacks him away.

“Oh-ho-ho! You’ll have to try harder than that, Sonic!” Eggman cackles. With a crash Sonic hits the ground, tumbling a bit before getting to his feet again, just in time to spring away from another blast of fire.

His patience wears thin and he twists to face Toxic. “Why won’t you just get out of here?!” He yells, glaring. They grin, panting. “Just. Go. Home.”

“I am home,” they wheeze, lifting the Wispon again. With a groan, Sonic leaps out of the way as fire erupts again. Fine, then, he thinks, swiftly dodging behind them and lashing out with a light kick to the center of their back. They yelp, staggering before half-falling, using the Wispon to catch themself; Sonic doesn’t bother to even glance back as he goes back to addressing the Eggman Problem. Zipping up the robot-suit’s leg, he zigzags across the torso; a flailing metal arm strikes the robot body and it tilts, abruptly off-balance, giving him an opening. He spin-dashes again, this time hitting his mark and tearing right through the outer hull, quickly ping-ponging inside the robot’s bodice and completely scrambling its insides. Just as it starts to heat up, he crashes back out, tumbling to the ground as Robotnik utters a long series of curses, readying his escape. The thing detonates, first just one explosion in the chest cavity, then more along its form like a ripple effect, culminating in a huge cloud of smoke and rubble hailing down. Somewhere in the mess he knows Robotnik’s making his getaway, but Sonic finds himself too busy dodging falling debris to be too terribly worried until the dust settles and he stands in the middle of a mixture of broken rocks, burning plant life and robot chunks. Problem solved.

Wiping a hand across his face, Sonic sighs, then looks around--somewhere in the rubble are two Chaos Emeralds, blue and yellow. His eyes fall on Toxic, lying face-down with a rock across them, and a jolt of panic runs through him. Before he can even move, they rise, rock breaking in pieces across a fissure he hadn’t seen, and they cough harshly, lifting their head to look at him. Their eyes then flick down to a spot near them, and his eyes follow theirs--

That pile of rocks is glowing yellow, and it’s in their arm’s reach. Instantly the dots are connected but before he can react their hand descends, fingers wrapping around it, and an immense blast of light erupts forth. With a surprised yelp, Sonic flings his arms over his face, stumbling back and blinking to clear his eyes. “Wha…” He shakes his head, blinking streaks of light from his vision and he hears the scrape of boots on rocks; turning his focus back to the porcupine. They’re standing on shaking legs, staring down at the Emerald in their hands with an unusual look on their face. Unnerved, Sonic takes a hesitant step forward. “You--You should put that down,” he starts, and they drag their eyes from it to look at him. Their green irises are ringed with red, and abruptly he realizes their red fur seems almost like it’s...bleeding out into the world around them, and his blood runs a bit colder. A red aura, he realizes, this could go south, fast.

“I’on’t think so,” they say with unusual softness. A slow smile spreads across their face. “I feel great.” Their body flickers, edges distorting, and abruptly they’re gone, a sudden breeze pulling Sonic towards where they were, briefly. He blinks in shock at the empty space for a moment, and his stomach drops into his shoes.

“Oh,” he breathes, “shit.”

[artificialqueens]

Cherry Bomb (Katlaska)- Squeaky

Brian and Justin go from professional drag queens to wing men. It gets out of control.

It had started like all of Brian’s best ideas did- after a bottle of beers, two shots, and three swigs of whiskey.

“I’m tired.”

“How can you be tired when you haven’t done anything all day?” Justin said with that smirk. That smirk. The one that made Brian want to punch him in the face.

“No, I’m…tired of this- this thing,” Brian slurred and moved his hands out to gesture at everything and nothing.

“Hm?” Justin murmured as he turned to check his phone.

Brian childishly swiped the phone away: “Pay attention to me, Jus’n.”

“Okay, you fucking pain in my anus. I’m listening,” Justin sighed and leaned down to rest his head on his hands, “What exactly are you tired of?”

Brian leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, “The game.”

“Drag Race?”

“No, dumb-ass. I’ll never get tired of Drag Race. I’m tired of the whole pretentious-ass game of picking up trade, pretending to be sexy and normal to get men to put their dick in me. Like having a cock wedged up my anal cavity is some kind of treat.”

Justin rolled his eyes, “Is that what this is all about? Just because you haven’t gotten laid in a month doesn’t mean that you need to take it out on me.”

“Got laid last week.”

“With who? That blonde midget?”

“He gave good head.”

“Honestly, the less time that I spend thinking about your libido, Brian, the happier I’ll be.”

“Don’t roll your eyes- I’m fucking serious. Dead. Fucking. Serious. The chase of the game and the mediocre-ness and the mess and the morning after? It’s not worth it to me. I feel like I’ve over-sex-saturated my senses and now it’s just all, like, whatever. A bleh blob.”

“Did Brian Mccook just tell me that sex wasn’t worth it? Maybe you’ve had a little too much to drink for tonight.”

“Think about it though…all this dick chasing has gone stale. The dicks are bread, and I’m done collecting salty crumbs,” Brian said and dramatically tipped back his bottle to lick out the last drop. Justin grabbed the bottle from him and helped him get his ass into an Uber. Brian sent him off with a sloppy kiss on the cheek and urged him to “think about it.”

——————-

That should have been the end of it. Just a drunken ramble born from his usual inebriation and gone by the morning light. Brian didn’t think about it until he rolled out of bed and his phone rang.

“‘Ello?”

“You know. I was up all night, and I think…I think you were on to something!”

“Huh?” Brian blinked and held the phone away from his ringing ears. All he could remember from last night was downing shots and Justin rolling his eyes. Oh, and that insufferable smirk. Everything else was a pleasant blur.

“I think that the game has gotten stale. It’s all the same build up with an inevitable let down.”

“Uh huh,” Brian yawned as he went to brush his teeth. His mouth tasted like how goat sex looked. Bad.

“So why don’t we spice it up? Put a twist on the game?”

“Russian roulette?”

“Kinda. I have to find you the perfect guy, and you have to find me the perfect guy. Deal? First one to find the other a boyfriend wins.”

Brian laughed with a mouth full of toothpaste: “‘Ow tha’s fooking genius!”

“Loser has to suck the winner’s dick?”

He spit and wiped his mouth. “I like the way your twisted mind works. Let’s do it tonight.”

——–

Brian ran a hand over his bare chest, as Justin flipped through his shirts. They’d decided to dress each other up. Brian had quickly picked out a pink button down for Justin with a pair of slacks. Yet, here Brian was, still languishing away on his apartment bed. He looped his fingers and tugged at his jeans-

“If you wanted to lose this bet and just suck me off, Lasky, all you had to do was ask.”

“I’m working on winning it, but your boy wardrobe leaves a lot to be desired,” Justin snapped as he threw a Hawaiian mumu at his face. Brian pretended to strangle himself in it.

Finally, Justin pulled out a black shirt that read simply ‘Carpe Diem,’ which he didn’t remember owning. Brian pulled it on and wrinkled his face at how tight it was. When he raised his hands, the black material rode up to reveal his white stomach.

“Doesn’t fit.”

Justin smoothed down his shirt, fingers lingering: “Fits perfectly.”

Brian’s stomach twisted a little as he looked down at Justin’s fingertips and how they looked splayed across him. He was already getting horny, for some reason, and they hadn’t even left for the club. This low simmering state of semi arousal made it hard to concentrate. In the cab, Justin pressed up close, and Brian leaned in even closer, so he was practically plastered to the older boy’s side. Brian was happy to glance down and see that Justin was just as flustered as him.

“See something you like, Lasky?” Brian teased as he leaned in, slight stubble brushing against Justin’s soft shoulder.

“We’re not even there yet. How can I see anything but your annoying ass?”

Brian only giggled as he playfully reached down and pressed the heel of his hand to Justin’s crotch: “Seem flustered.”

Justin groaned and roughly pushed him towards the other side of the cab. It quickly turned into a tickle fight in the back seat that left Brian more excited than he’d started. The cab driver watched them through the mirror as Brian straddled Justin and tried to pin down his hands. The cab jumped, and Justin pushed him off.

Justin’s hair was sticking to his forehead, and Brian snickered as they stumbled out the cab, side by side, and flicked his fringe. The humid LA night made him glad for his own buzz cut.

“You look pretty gay.”

Justin rolled his eyes: “No, really? Did the fact that we’re walking into a gay bar give it away? Or maybe how hard we got from our hetero-no-homo tickle fight.”

“I’m a growing boy,” Brian teased. “I get hard from anything. What’s your excuse?”

“Mhm.”

“But it’s true, Lasky,” he continued over the beat of the club music as they wove their way through the crowd. It must have been Hawaiian night because Brian had already spotted ten guys dressed like Maui and one like Lilo.

“How about Mr. Tan-line in the corner? He give you anything to get hard over?”

Brian ordered a cocktail, and, not looking away from Justin’s insufferable smirk, slowly nodded. He should be paying attention to the dance floor, but Justin’s hair was distracting. Brian reached up to push back his fringe and Justin let him, leaning ever so slightly into his touch.

It was like a back and forth game of ping pong as they sent each other to different corners. Each guy that Justin picked up for him was even better than the last. They all had soft eyes and easy smiles, but Brian found himself making excuse after excuse to get back to Justin. They were all too tall, too small, too thin, too thick…too much…but also not enough.

“You’re being picky,” Justin huffed as he slung his hand over Brian’s shoulder. He leaned into his side and just shrugged. The fringe had flopped back, and Brian reached up to push it back into place. Justin slapped his fingers away with a rough order of ‘concentrate.’

“Hey! Maybe I’m just holding out for Prince Charming. Need me a man like that to come sweep me off my feet. Someone with a sense of humor…soft…but a bit of a freak.”

“Sounds like you wanna fuck yourself,” Justin teased as he looped his hands around Brian’s chest and tugged him closer. They were weirdly spooning now. Actually, was it considered spooning if you weren’t lying down? Whatever, they were doing some gay ass shit that Brian didn’t know how to explain. All he knew was that he didn’t have eyes for anybody on the dance floor.

Justin squeezed him: “How come I haven’t seen you trying all night? Given up already I see. Seems like you’re pretty desperate to get on your knees for me- hoping to pleasure your reigning queen?”

“Nah, I just know someone perfect for you,” Brian said as he twisted around, so his chin was resting on Justin’s chest. He looked up at him through his thick rimmed glasses.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, she’s got long, blonde hair…always keeps ‘em coming back for more…kind of a high class, Russian whore-”

“Bitch!”

He leaned up on his tippy toes, so his lips were right by Justin’s ear: “I hear she’s a scorching hot mess in a skin tight dress.”

Justin’s hands settled on the curve of his back, right above where his shirt rode up. Brian leaned in, so the hard line of their chests were pressed up together. He could feel the heat of Justin’s breathe curl around his neck. Goosebumps.

“Sounds like my type. Does she put out?”

“For the right price,” Brian promised, switching his voice so it was huskier. He realized to the untrained eye right now they must look like a couple. To the trained eye….no, they probably still looked like a couple of married fags, Brian realized.

“How much you think it’d cost to buy her mouth?” Justin murmured, and his voice had gone from teasing to something else. Those large hands settled over his ass, and Brian whimpered a little as they squeezed him through the denim of his jeans.  

“10,000 dollars…”

“Via paypal?”

“No, I prefer cash. Or credit.”

Brian gasped as he felt Justin’s leg pressed up in between his own. He was painfully hard now, and, whatever game this was, he needed to keep on playing. Brian experimentally ran his hand through Justin’s hair and dragged him down by the roots for a peck. He waited for some shocking revelation, but it was just a kiss. Maybe he should try again? So Brian pressed in closer and tasted the vodka still on his lips. He felt Justin’s cock twitch against his thigh as he took control of the kiss. 

Brian let go for a breathe of air, and he was pleased to see that Justin’s eyes were just as dark as his, pupils overblown with desire. Fuck, Brian bit his lip, he wanted to taste him.

“But I haven’t found you Prince Charming,” Justin weakly protested as Brian tugged him towards the bathroom stall by his wrist.

“You win. I lose,” Brian said as he pushed Justin into the bathroom stall. Click. Justin pulled him in by the scruff of his black shirt and kissed him. Fuck, Brian wouldn’t mind just slowly rutting off against his leg, like a horny animal.

“Oh, that’s new, huh?” Justin taunted. “You losing to me?”

Brian roughly squeezed Justin through his denim jeans. He was so firm. God, the feel of him in his hands made his mouth water. 

“Listen, ‘Lasky, you want this blowjob or you want a slap?”

“Kinky.”

Then Brian was down on his knees, tugging down Alaska’s slacks. He bit his lip when he saw the ‘ALASKA’ underpants. What kind of marketing genius? Brian pressed a kiss to the thin boxers, and Justin throbbed against his lips. When Brian looked up at him, Justin smirked down at him.

“You look kinda gay like that.”

Brian groaned, and his jeans were too tight. He felt a bead of precum drip down Justin’s boxers as he massaged him through the material. Brian sucked him through the fabric just so he could see how sinful Justin’s cock looked straining against his boxers. 

He treasured every moan that he stole from Justin’s lips. He knew those sounds would find him in his wet dreams, and Brian whimpered as he sucked down, cheeks hallowing. 

“Stop teasing,” Justin pleaded, and Brian loved the hint of desperation in his voice. The door opened, and Brian knew how he must look like down on his knees. 

He pulled down Justin’s boxers and just held him there. Justin whimpered as he swirled his thumb over the slick skin and slowly pumped down his hard length. Brian twisted his hand as he pulled up, just like how he liked it himself, and Justin’s knees buckled.

Then he was back at it, with his wrapped his lips around him. Brian bobbed to the beat of the music. He could tell by Alaska’s sharp breathe that he was pushing him closer to the edge.

“A-ah, Brian!”

He held him there and swallowed up every last drop. He licked him clean, loving how wrecked that Justin sounded.

“Is that how you play a wing man?” Justin laughed as he pulled Brian up for a kiss. “Didn’t know it came with complimentary blow jobs. I’ve been doing it wrong all these years.”

“Yeah, how about a new game? Let’s pretend to date until one of us catches feelings.”

“You’re a crazy, bitch, you know that, Brian?“ 

"You love it.”

“Fuck, I do.”