#fluid radio

[gravestone-chrysalis]

Had a Certification exam today (I passed obv) and treated myself to my fav hot dog joint as a reward for being a bad bitch

[smolstarthief]

Eh, since I took some screencaps of him in the main show minus well do a bonus with the Pilot. Have at it dears! (Part 1 because curse Tumblr image limit!)

[kingzombear]

This is Dani. She bleeds ketchup, vomits mustard, and cries orange soda. She's cold to the touch like a corpse. She's been missing since the early 90s. She's ginger. She has 6 monster gfs. She has a crush on u. There's a lot wrong w her.

[radiofreeskaro]

Radio Free Skaro – 2024 Fluid Links Advent Calendar, Day 24

Radio Free Skaro – 2024 Fluid Links Advent Calendar, Day 24

http://traffic.libsyn.com/freyburg/rfs2024advent24.mp3 Download MP3 This holiday season, Radio Free Skaro is presenting a Fluid Links Advent Calendar! Every day from December 1 until December 24, we’ll discuss one topic from our list provided by you, the listeners. Today: Day 24.

[thinplacesradio]

a stone wall covered in light gray paint, a silver elevator button panel installed, two circular white buttons in black squares with braille beside. the one on top points up. but the one on the bottom is pointing to the right. the image is distorted by VCR static. text reads:

[015] THE EXPERIMENT. A CALLER CATCHES A SHIFT CHANGE. THE HOST TAKES THE ELEVATOR.

listen here, or anywhere you find your podcasts. transcript under the cut:

[static, radio tuning]

[Traveling Sales Rep: Don’t touch that dial! We’ll be right back, after these short messages.] [static, radio tuning]

[click]

Hello and welcome to Thin Places Radio. I’m your host,

and it is the middle of the night. But don’t worry. You’re not alone.

[Thin Places theme]

[low rumbling, intermittent distant clanging and rumbling]

I’m coming to you claustrophilic from my studio, which is what I like to call this ornately dark-paneled elevator I am currently trapped in, who knows how many feet above the earth. The display is out, so there’s no light to tell me which floors I'm stuck in between - my money’s on 17 and 18, because I love a prime number. There aren’t any lights overhead, either. Just the pale yellow glow of the lobby button that I pushed. Or - was it the top floor? Because that one’s lit up, too. 

I can hear a groaning down in the cavernous space below me. It sounds metallic, but not the way the elevator would creak and shudder along its own ropes. It’s getting a little bit louder every time I hear it. [metallic growl] Like it’s getting closer. 

So what is Thin Places Radio?

Well, you can call in about anything strange that you've got going on in your life - feelings, omens, premonitions, hauntings. 

Can you hear someone moving around on the floor above you, even though there isn’t a floor above you?

Are you having trouble believing what you’re seeing?

Is your house haunted? Do you kind of like it that way? 

Call in, get it off your chest. Lines are open.

[click] [voicemail:]

Uh, have y'all ever heard of a change blindness experiment? You can find a bunch of them on YouTube, if you Google - they’re either called experiments, or pranks, they’re basically pranks. They’re made to demonstrate that people just don’t notice s**t? Typically what they’ll do is they’ll have someone behind, like, a register counter, and when someone looks down to, like, open their wallet, they’ll just switch people who are at the register. And no one ever says anything, or acts like it’s strange, or notices, at all, until it’s pointed out to them - and sometimes, not even then. 

I don’t… think anyone’s pranking me? Like why… why would they… why.  Because, especially ‘cuz it’s like, the same girl, over and over again. But it’s different people every - so - [huff]. The Family Dollar behind my house. There’s always this girl in there, working the register - she’s always there. And she’s really nice? She recognizes me, and I recognize her. It’s just, every single time I purchase anything, I - it - she gets replaced? By different people? But only for that - it’s only while money is being exchanged. I’ve kept my eyes open, I’ve, like - not looked down, at all, and it’s like - frame to frame, it’ll just -  for one second, there’s a different frame and there’s a different person. But when I walk away? It’s her again. 

I think - I think I’m just being pranked, but like, again, f***ing why? I didn’t agree to be pranked, or to be in some kind of experiment. Nothing bad ever happens? It’s just that. It makes me think like - do people not notice? Do people in the videos and the experiments not notice, or do they just never say anything? You know? Maybe they just - it’s easier to just be like, well, I guess I’m wrong, or just forget about it. Anyway. I guess I’ve said something now. Yep. Thank you. 

[click]

It’s so easy to shy away from what’s right in front of us, caller. How can you trust yourself when that trust has led you astray? You must be getting pranked, you must be in some kind of experiment. How can you trust other people, either, when they haven’t been honest, or had your best interests at heart? 

You know that what you’re seeing is real, even though it can’t be. It can. It is. You kept your senses sharp. You paid attention to the cashier at the Dollar General. Has anyone else? Maybe. Anyone else isn’t your responsibility. [searching music] It’s easy to say that the cashier might not be, either. But, I lied. Everyone else is always our responsibility. Not to try to control, or change. But to share in the fabric of reality, however strange a hue that fabric takes. 

It’s so easy not to say anything. It’s easy not to pry, not to be rude, to see that crack in someone else’s armor and look away from the blood that’s coming out of it. I don’t know what’s happening to the cashier. I don’t know why she’s always there, or if she knows what’s happening to her, or how she feels about it. I don’t know how she’d react if you said something, anything. I don’t know how you would even bring something up - are you okay? How are you doing today? How was your week? At the start, that transition between someone you see and someone you know can feel impossible to navigate. Sometimes that change never happens. But something in her recognizes you. And you recognize her, no matter what she looks like in those in-between moments. It’s still her. It’s still you. 

[click]

Something weird, listeners? The current price of Power Steering Fluid at the Dollar General closest to you is three dollars and seventy five cents. It is currently out of stock. Someone keeps drinking it.

[click] [groaning and rumbling, louder] [light flickering loudly]

All the buttons are lit up on the panel, now, flickering. There’s no one to boost me up to that panel I can see above my head, slightly out of line with the other squares in the ceiling. But that’s okay. Someone in the interconnected universal fabric left a box in here. I think I can reach it myself. 

Something stopped the elevator on purpose. Some angler that swims through the earth. [clang] It’s hungry. But that’s not its fault. [rumble] It needs to eat. We all do. I just don’t think I'm going to stick around to figure out what its diet might be. 

[creaking, clanging] [the host’s voice echoes:]

Ah, f***. Floor 13. Of course it’s floor 13. [pause] Prime number though.  

Thank you for listening, callers, and thank you for calling, listeners. I hope you feel a little bit lighter. I know I do.

As always, our number is 717.382.8093. that's 717.382.8093. Until next time. [creak] I'll be somewhere around here.

[elevator dings, opens]

[static] [Traveling Sales Rep: visit us at the - diner just off -] [Various Garbled Voices: ]

Thin Places Radio is a podcast written by Kristen O’Neal and produced by Kaitlin Bruder. The voice of Your Host is Kristen O’Neal. Tonight’s voicemail was left for us by Hayes.

Editing and sound design are by Kaitlin Bruder, and the music tracks you heard in tonight’s episode are: the Thin Places theme, by Miles Morkri, and Umeed by RANA.

If you have a story to tell or a question to ask, give us a call at ‪(717) 382-8093‬. The lines are always open.

[Thin Places Theme outro]

[johnapacheco]

Experiencing Feelings.....12/1/24 

“But feelings, no matter how strong or “ugly,” are not a part of who you are. They are the radio stations your mind listens to when you don’t give it something better to do. Feelings are fluid and dynamic; they change frequently. Feelings are something you have, not something you are. Like physical beauty, a cold sore or an opinion.” -~ Augusten Burroughs  – contributed by Lori C  A special…

[spacenutspod]

Astronomy Daily - The Podcast: S03E168 Welcome to Astronomy Daily, your go-to source for the latest and most fascinating space and Astronomy news. I'm Anna, and I'm thrilled to be your host for today's cosmic journey. We've got an exciting lineup of stories that will take us from the depths of our solar system to the brushstrokes of a famous painting and even to the cutting edge of radio Astronomy. Highlights: - Revolutionary Insights into Ceres: New research suggests that Ceres, the largest object in the asteroid belt, might have once been an ancient ocean world. This revelation paints a picture of Ceres as a dirty snowball rather than a rocky body, making it an attractive target for future space missions. - Controversial Moon Origin Theory: A new study from Penn State University challenges the long-held belief that the Moon formed from a collision between Earth and a Mars-sized object. Instead, it proposes that the Moon might have been captured by Earth's gravity. - Upcoming Space Launches: Exciting missions are on the horizon, including the United Launch Alliance's Vulcan Centaur rocket, SpaceX's Starlink mission, and the European Space Agency's Hera mission, which will study the results of NASA's double asteroid redirection test. - Van Gogh's "Starry Night" and Fluid Turbulence: Scientists have discovered that the swirling patterns in Vincent van Gogh's "The Starry Night" follow the laws of fluid turbulence, blending artistic vision with scientific accuracy. - New Discoveries about the Moon's Interior: Recent gravity measurements have revealed a potentially partially molten layer in the Moon's mantle, raising questions about its structure, origin, and evolution. - China's Expanding Radio Telescope: China is enhancing its 500-meter Aperture Spherical Telescope (FAST) with 24 new movable radio telescopes, significantly boosting its resolution and detection capabilities. For more space news, be sure to visit our website at astronomydaily.io. There you can sign up for our free Daily newsletter, catch up on all the latest space and Astronomy news with our constantly updating newsfeed, and listen to all our back episodes. Don't forget to follow us on social media. Just search for #AstroDailyPod on Facebook, X, YouTubeMusic, and TikTok. Thank you for tuning in. This is Anna signing off. Until next time, keep looking up and stay curious about the wonders of our universe. Sponsor Links: NordVPN Malwarebytes Proton Mail Old Glory - Iconic Music and Sports Fan Merch Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/astronomy-daily-the-podcast--5648921/support.

[nightingale-prompts]

Danny lives in a horror movie-DC x DP prompt

Based on my favorite book series "tales from the gas station"

It's not every day that a mission requires the league to travel to middle America in a bid to obtain a highly cursed artifact but it certainly is today.

Locating the Seal of Silent Ashes was a task usually given to Justice League Dark but Constantine was currently busy. So that meant it was left to the poster boys to get this done. They dressed in civilian attire to investigate the last location of the seal starting with the first building on the edge of town. A small dusty gas station near the woods.

The inside had an awful smell, like death and cleaning fluid. The lights gave off a greenish-blue tint. Rats could be seen out of the corner of your eyes. Most of the chips were offbrand and crappy.

Behind the counter was the teenage boy chewing gum. He looked up at the group before going back to reading his book. He had clearly seen better days but didn't show signs of caring about the state of his hair or bags under his eyes. He drank his coffee.

The air felt off.

"Hey kiddo, do you mind giving us directions?" Clark started.

The kid narrowed his eyes as he popped his gum.

"You're not from here. That or you're from that cult in the woods. Listen I'm not joining. Seriously, cosmic nihilism and fatalism sounds doomed. Hey wait-" the teen checked his notes " No, the cult killed themselves in that mass suicide 2 weeks ago. I forgot, sorry."

The teen didn't say anything else as he went back to his book.

The horrified look of the adults shared was almost hilarious. At least to the teen if he looked up.

"Oh, and stay out of the woods. I don't want the police to come back and ask about who saw you last. Seriously if whatever is in there tears you apart I won't feel bad. I put those signs out forever ago and if I get one more girl covered in blood running in here screaming about her dead friends I'll get a headache." The teen shrugged turning the page.

"What do you mean?! Why would-?! Who's killing people?!" Barry asked frantically as Bruce serched for more reports of missing people in the area.

"I don't know. Why would I know? If you want to go in the cursed forest go ahead. I mean that's how they all die. It isn't my job to stop you. My job is to sit here and watch this store." The teen huffed in annoyance.

Before anymore questions were asked the signal of the radio was disrupted and a demonic howl screeched through the radio.

"God damnit. That cunt is back. Stay here." The teen growled as he grabbed his bat from under the counter and walked out the back door. "String bean! Get off the fucking roof you bastard! You know that radio is all I have here!"

A chattering laugh like a death rattle was heard and the sound of 2 sets of feet was heard on the roof then they lept down.

"Come here so I can beat you to death!" The teen ran around the building towards the front of the gas station chasing-what the fuck is that!

It was like a human that was twisted to crabwalk on all fours backwards. Its face was contorted into a black stretched-out smile with no teeth. It had no eyes just black sockets. All its limbs were stretched out to an extra meter in length. It was a skinwalker of some kind with chalk-white skin. It was skittering away from the teen who was swinging his bat at its head.

"Stop running! I told you before what would happen if I found you fucking with me again!" The boy meant it as he finally landed a hit and began wacking it over and over it.

The skin walker screeched and tried to run for its life but couldn't.

After reducing the monster into a black puddle the black-stained teen came back inside to sit back down not paying anymore to the monster blood he was covered in.

"Sorry about that. Most of the freaks around here have learned to stay away from this place. That one is new and he doesn't listen. You'd think they'd learn but Sting Bean thinks he can torment me. Petty bastard." The teen sighed "anyways are going to buy anything or are you going to waste what oxygen we get in here with this shitty ventilation.

Diana couldn't help but admire the boldness of the boy. He had no hesitation or fear against the beasts of this area even if was crude.

"Does Constantine have a cousin or something? Just a more angry one" Barry whispered to Hal.

[wethotcrazy]

CAN'T CONTROL IT

pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem! Driver! Reader

word count: 739

just something a little short and sweet for franco colapinto. also i think the can't control their mouth and can't control their face would suit him well?! idk bro

The F1 social media team had a new favorite hobby: catching YN's reactions to everything Franco Colapinto did.

It started during pre-season testing in Bahrain. Franco, fresh in his Williams racing suit, had spun on his installation lap – a rookie mistake that had the paddock chuckling. The TV director, whether by instinct or divine intervention, cut immediately to YN in the Alpine garage.

Her expression was poetry in motion: eyes rolling skyward, lips pressed together to suppress a smile, followed by a head shake that somehow conveyed both "I can't believe this" and "that's my idiot" in one fluid movement.

The clip went viral within hours.

"Have you seen this?" Franco bounded into the Alpine hospitality area, phone already extended. "'Every Time YN Dies Inside Watching Franco Colapinto: Testing Edition' – they even put sad violin music over your faces!"

YN didn't need to look. She'd already seen the compilation – a masterfully edited collection of her various reactions to Franco's testing adventures. Her personal favorite was the slow-motion zoom on her face when he'd described his first F1 car as "spicy."

"I'm starting to think you do these things on purpose," she muttered, but her treacherous face was already softening at his enthusiasm.

"Maybe I just like seeing your reactions," he winked, dropping into the seat beside her. "Remember in F3 when you said your face wasn't that expressive?"

"Remember in F2 when you said you'd learned to think before speaking?"

His laugh echoed through the hospitality area. "Some things never change, no?"

The Australian GP brought new material for the ever-growing collection of "YN Can't Control Her Face" content. As Alpine's reserve driver, she was in the garage when Franco scored his first F1 points – a remarkable P8 in a chaotic race.

His radio message was pure, unfiltered Franco: "P8! P8! YN, are you watching? Better than that time in F2 when you said I'd never score points because I was too busy talking!"

The cameras found her instantly: pride blooming across her features before she could school them into professional neutrality.

"Every time they show your face, the comments explode," Esteban teased later. "I think you've got more screen time than some of the actual drivers."

YN groaned. "Don't remind me. Someone made a TikTok trend out of my different 'Franco Reactions.'"

"At least you're not 'Can't Control His Mouth' Colapinto," Pierre chimed in. "Did you hear him in the press pen? He spent five minutes explaining how you once bet him he couldn't qualify top 10 without talking on team radio."

"Did he mention he lost that bet?"

"No, but your face when they asked you about it said everything."

Monaco was where things reached new heights. Franco, running in P6 during practice, had been providing commentary that somehow always circled back to YN:

"YN's watching, no? Tell her this is how you take the hairpin properly—" Franco spoke through team radio confidently before scraping through the hairpin.  "Ah. Maybe not like that."

The camera cuts to YN's perfect face-palm, followed by a head shake that somehow conveyed both "I knew it" and "why am I even surprised" in one swift motion.

The resulting clip went viral on Tiktok and became F1's most-watched social media post of the weekend.

"You know what I think?" Franco asked one evening, as they shared takeaway in the quiet of the paddock after everyone else had left. The cameras were finally off, but YN's face was as expressive as ever in the dim light.

"That's a dangerous start to any conversation with you."

He grinned, nudging her shoulder. "I think you like that I can't control my mouth."

"And what makes you say that?" she asked, trying and failing to keep her expression neutral.

"Because every time I talk about you, you make this face – like you're trying not to smile but can't help it. It's my favorite one."

"I do not have a special face for when you talk about me."

"Si, you do! You're making it right now!"

She threw a napkin at him, but her smile – soft and genuine and completely uncontrolled – gave her away.

The next day, during the drivers' briefing, Alex caught Franco staring at YN with an expression that mirrored all of hers – soft and fond and entirely unguarded.

The photo went viral with the caption: "Looks like neither of them can control anything anymore 💕"

[thishazeleyeddemon]

Hi how are you? I hope everything is going alright, I'm sorry if I'm being annoying i just wanted to ask you if you could help me rb my post please? My life has beeb very rough and sad lately recovering is not easy 😞 sorry for bothering you and thanks, a rb helps a ton

I am going to direct you instead to @copperbadge's Radio Free Monday.

[pronoun-checks]

would separate checks with radio (he/him), fluid (he/that/it), and canis (un/undead/undeads/undeadself, wolf/wolf/wolfs/wolfself, vamp/vampire/vampires/vampiricself and jack/jacket/jackets/jacketself) be okay?

i like video games, sharks, and writing. apologies as its quite a few xcvbnb, thank you in advance!

i forgot the whole set of that/thats sorry!! that/that/thats/thatself

^thank you for providing the whole set! And it’s no problem!

Checks are under the cut because I made them quite long

—

Radio (he/him)

Hey, look! It’s Radio! Do you see him over there? He’s the one by himself with his notepad. I wonder what he’s writing? I’ve told you about him before, right? I said I thought his name was quite neat. I’ve only spoken to him a few times, but he said he enjoys writing, video games, and sharks. He didn’t say what kinds of video games he likes, though. Yeah, Radio also like sharks! I wonder what kinds of things he likes about sharks? I hope he’s having a nice day. Maybe you can talk with him sometime? Oh, looks like he’s leaving. Wait—he’s leaving without his notepad! C’mon, let’s go let him know. Hey! Radio!

—

Fluid (he/that/it)

Hey, look! It’s Fluid! Do you see him over there? He’s the one by himself with his notepad. I wonder what he’s writing? I’ve told you about him before, right? I said I thought his name was quite neat. I’ve only spoken to that a few times, but that said that enjoys writing, video games, and sharks. That didn’t say what kinds of video games that likes, though. Yeah, Fluid also like sharks! I wonder what kinds of things that likes about sharks? I hope it’s having a nice day. Maybe you can talk with it sometime? Oh, looks like it’s leaving. Wait—it’s leaving without its notepad! C’mon, let’s go let it know. Hey! Fluid!

—

Canis (un/wolf/vamp/jack)

Hey, look! It’s Canis! Do you see undead over there? Un’s the one by undeadself with undeads notepad. I wonder what un’s writing? I’ve told you about wolf before, right? I said I thought wolfs name was quite neat. I’ve only spoken to wolf a few times, but wolf said wolf enjoys writing, video games, and sharks. Vamp didn’t say what kinds of video games vamp likes, though. Yeah, Canis also like sharks! I wonder what kinds of things vamp likes about sharks? I hope vampires day has been wonderful. Maybe you can talk with jacket sometime? Oh, looks like jack’s leaving. Wait—jack’s leaving without jackets notepad! C’mon, let’s go let jacket know. Hey! Canis!

[imbecominggayer]

Giving Your Characters A Unique, Distinct Voice (With Examples)

What does "unique voice" mean? Basically, every single person has their own manner of speaking. This difference can be from politeness, the volume or "loudness", confidence, emotional quality, maturity, accents, cultural slang, and other variables that can be shown in a character's voice.

This can also be shown through "prioritization". Prioritization is what a character or narrator decides is worth focusing on for any given scene.

For example, Tree of Heaven is a cynical cinematographer whose inner life is primarily eclipsed by beautiful landscapes and settings. However, Jukka is a highly dedicated actor who neglects the trees for the people, whether they be strangers or loved ones. While Jukka and Tree of Heaven could be walking through the same park, they would be focused on entirely different things. Heaven would be focused on the way the sunlight scatters through the autumn-coated, gold-platted leaves while Jukka is people-watching!

Sometimes, I use other stories and their tones as inspiration for my characters!

For Haun, their inspiration for tone came from "I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream". Specfically, AM's monologues like the "and I began to hate" or the bee monologue describing AM's thoughts on bees radio play! The reasoning behind this was the fact that Haun Anatemori, my character, is someone with deep-seated resentment. Rage and hatred born out of a feeling of injustice, self-loathing, and a feeling of deep-seated betrayal. However, Haun confines their emotions to logical actions and long-term planning meaning there is no outward way to express these emotions. Leading to his entire inner voice being coated in hatred.

Education and social standing often has the most outward influence on a character's external voice. That's the unique thing about protagonists and narrators. Because narrators don't have to worry about social standing and protagonists can have visible inner life, protagonists often have "two" voices. Their "outside" voice, aka the voice they use to speak to others, and their inner voices they use for their own feelings.

Haun's inner voice is resentful with metaphors and analogies of disgusting things such as bodily fluid used to provide an artful crassness to his voice that shows Haun's education and anger but his outer voice is far more innocent and self-contained with less verbosity as Haun is attempting to portray an innocent, less literate farmer type in order to trick others as he rises the social ladder.

Another highly influencial factor is maturity! If a character is emotionally mature, then they often have a more composed tone of voice with simple, yet profound metaphors that often express clear motivation and clear emotion. They often have accurate ideas about others and themselves. This is different from how emotional a character is! A mature character can be emotional but they have a clearer understanding of their emotions. Not the mood swing type!

Nonkosi Tyali is the most compassionate yet mature character I have with their inner voice and outward voice both having a sense of "refinement". Nonkosi understands what they want, why they want it, and how to get it. Despite their cheerful tone, it's obvious they aren't naive or out of control. Nonkosi also has remarkable observational skills as they are deeply intune to the thoughts and emotions of others which allows them to have accurate and insightful observations about other characters.

Verne Lawless, in contrast, is highly immature with a tendency for rapid mood swings, ranting, and catastrophizing. They rarely compose their emotions with them having to spend far more time detailing and failing to "accurate" translate their emotions for the audience. They rarely focus on the emotional lives of others. While Verne can use flowering, verbose words and nostalgia, this fails to counteract the obvious desperation and run-around Verne has in their thoughts.

Finally, just think about what their emotions are. This doesn't have to be something as simple as "happy" or "sad".

Verne is a nostalgic person who constantly references old classics like Jules Verne with long, verbose poetry. This is influenced by Verne's obvious intellect and his emotional center of love. However, whenever they are emotionally in a tailspin, they often resort to manic, modern slang with firey self-hatred and self-deprecation. This is due to the fact that Verne adores love but he believes that he will never find love. This desperation often leads him to be more psychologically "fragile" with his ability to contain his emotions constantly threatened.

Emotions: Mania, nostalgia, desperation, and love

Nonkosi is an optimistic person which can sometimes veer into surpressing negative emotions and experiences. They maintain the belief that they can be eternally strong and compassionate as they act more like a force of nature then the human they actually are.

Emotions: Awkward optimism, gentle melancholic, and confidence

Jukka is mostly possessed with a quiet melancholy for most of life with pretentious verbosity surrounding the nature of society in a similar vein of "No Longer Human" by Osamu Dazai. However, whenever Jukka is bound up in the passion of acting, Jukka can often dance with mania, emotional highs, and life coated in fandom and acting. Jukka's language is primarily references to media such as Main Character Syndrome, tropes, rivalry, found family, and some not really 4th Wall Breaks because Jukka believes he lives in a series but he doesn't know he is actually a written character.

Emotions: melancholy, sentimentality, and minor resentment.

[robolvrr]

I love love looove the way you write!! I'm 22- and i wanted to ask about your Headcanons for a bi bumblebee.

He's always been proud of looking good, so maaaybe you could give him an opportunity to show off? A car show, or maybe a car wash could be fun.

hot motor oil ☆∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°

hahaaa fffkxzkdk. bet! you speaking my language, anon.

bumblebee x gn! human headcanons.

warnings: suggestive/nsfw. exhibitionism, praise, voyeurism.

bumblebee when on earth at his prime is cocky, playful and a thrill-seeker.

while the inability to vocalize is a sore subject, he's never been insecure about his appearance. he's considered very attractive wherever he goes, cybertron and otherwise.

much to optimus's disapproval, he takes the time to find the newest speedsters to scan regularly throughout the decades.

while he's particular with what automobiles he claims, there's a clear taste for flashy, fast horsepower.

he adores weaving between traffic, secret drag races, because the racers and humans react. it's either anger, frustration, awe or jealousy. makes his chassis get all warm knowing that just being in his alt-modes gains attention without applying much effort.

the thing is though - he does. constant buffing. avoids mud like the plague and never gets insects stuck in his grills. his bumper never gets scuffed and he might have found a car wash or two with easy on the optic workers who gladly accept fat tips and rub between his panels and exterior with feather light touches.

they don't look too much through his tinted windshield or question the pink fluids collecting near the drain when he zips off.

when he meets you, he's almost shaking when he learns of your hobbies.

a mechanic? and you spend hours in your garage just.. fixing up cars?

his spark stutters one day relaxing in your detached shed, as you mumble under your breath with your ungloved fingers coated in oil with the popped hood of an '99 ferrari, tongue licking sweat off your top lip so slow he has to lock his tires not to accidently skid the concrete.

"mmm, there ya go. shiny and just as gorgeous. bet i could go on a real fast ride with you now, huh?"

"kkkrrtt! my chick do stuff that your chick wish she could — chhhtk — krrrz!"

"oh my god, bee, please — hey! do not leak in my garage baby."

he has never made his attraction for you quiet.

it's difficult to course through radio signals in regular conversation but you always look so charmed when he chirps out song lyrics you know, so chatting you up during repair sessions is frequent.

once his leash has been loosened some and you're teetering ripping back the veil of platonic and more, you let him know the other aspect of your interests.

he stares at the shiny poster in your hands, watching you animatedly explain just what a "muscle car show" was. his brow ridge raises. okaay, you got his attention.

while you didn't expect to win (which he rolled his optics to because really, this is him you're talking about), it'd be fun. it would only last a few hours. all he has to do is sit still and look pretty.

look still and look. pretty. his flaps flutter, proud. damn straight he's pretty.

when you roll him to the flat plain one saturday afternoon, his wheels look brand-new and his hood has signature, thick black accents.

even has that "new smell" to him, rubber flawless and paint with that glittering coat.

fancy little bastard managed to get some butterfly doors. you coo between his engine revving he's being such a little show-off.

what he didn't expect was the constant attention to be so distracting. it's warm and there's an internal message to start blasting his cooling fans because his temperature is starting to up a tick.

there's so, so many cars. yet he's fully in the center, which means at times he feels like he's being surrounded.

bumblebee takes a gander while he plays some old rock softly to cover the fizzle of his motor, eyeing the classics and more modern bodystyle frames.

almost beeps when you bend down to show a man his chrome mufflers. your hands run along his rims and he's starting to feel.. funny.

"damn. how'd you get such a sexy car?"

"ahh... magician never shares their tricks. wanna feel the inside?"

cue the radio shorting out, because suddenly his doors are unfolding and men and women alike start to crowd him, cooing and taking pictures.

the sensory overload from curious palms smoothing over his dash? you lean into him to adjust his mirror and cheekily grab the clutch. his engine roars.

"you know. i never thought i'd say i fuck a sports car but jesus, you've outdone yourself... oh, cmon, how much you selling for?"

"my bumblebee? girl, i ain't ever putting him up for sale. he's my sweet stallion."

his processor is humming. angles his frontal mirrors as you keep teasing him, even going as far to spank his bumper slightly before bragging about the genuine leather interiors and letting his admirers lounge inside, encouraging them to ask questions.

exhaust slips from pipes as he tries not to let the electricity cloak his frame suffocate when you press a silky smooch on his window. the kiss-mark looks like it's been left behind on foggy, shower glass.

is it a shocker you win? nope. easiest $5K of your life.

there's a final round where you get to drive him around a lap so motor-enthusiasts can gander a final time. he's almost thankful the announcements echo because you're leaned over the wheel, chest pressed up near the horn.

"you like that? you did so fucking good."

"tcccthtt -- whoa, baby you're killin' me! "

"aww, don't get shy. there's a warehouse four miles west from here. take us there. i wanna thank you."

his speedometer breaks when he drifts right out and down the highway, wind zipping back your hair as your laugh cackles out ajar windows.

pure nsfw.

the golden-black charger rumbles down the highway. it's minimal interference, though the turn signal never flashes and it's difficult to see any drivers or passengers inside.

pebbles pluck up and ding the exterior, which is such a shame, because it's such a pretty car!

however, that isn't on anyone's mind at the moment.

bumblebee tries not to hydroplane, because it'd be stupid dangerous and it's not even raining. but you're a tsunami, a distraction of disastrous proportions. your hand is shoved down your shorts and you trail down your tummy before the straps of your underwear twist.

it's a wildly salacious position. your right leg is hiked up on his - your - dash. your left hand rubs vigorously while the right squeezes his clutch and rubs the silver button positioned at its knob.

his engine snarls. his radio glitches and you can hear the rhythmic churn of metal buzzing and gurgles that suggests he's trying to speak.

"yeah? yeah? such a pretty speedster, bee. f-fuck. you're so hot. you're the best."

"breeep!"

"awww, haha -- nnf, did you just honk?!"

the opening to a dilapidated hanger lingers on the horizon. he bulldozed through gravel and rolls up his windows fully to avoid any flying in your face. your hair is messy and both of your feelings are floundering, the beat of your heart loud in your ears.

he can't erase any of this. those wet cries have his intake salivating with lubricant.

there's a wet spot on the driver's seat and he's almost mad that he can't lick it off.

transforming mid-kneel, you're gently shoved out and his servos snatch at you like a toddler with a toy. his bright, blue gaze edged needy when he's pawing off your clothes and manhandling you to get up on his lap.

his pedes scratch against the concrete for purchase. he's whipped. he's so fragging on edge. all the compliments, all the comments, all the touching - he's gonna overload.

let's just say you two aren't getting back to base for the night. especially not with that wry grin on your lips, before you rub down his body like melted rubber.

robolvrr 2024.

[radiofreeskaro]

Radio Free Skaro – 2024 Fluid Links Advent Calendar, Day 18

Radio Free Skaro – 2024 Fluid Links Advent Calendar, Day 18

http://traffic.libsyn.com/freyburg/rfs2024advent18.mp3 Download MP3 This holiday season, Radio Free Skaro is presenting a Fluid Links Advent Calendar! Every day from December 1 until December 24, we’ll discuss one topic from our list provided by you, the listeners. Today: Day 18.

[randofics]

Being able to reach where the bots can't

The men on base couldn't pull something out of Optimus's engine block. It was deep inside, wedged in the cables and framework. Without thinking, you offered to try removing it. They stepped aside, and you slipped underneath Optimus's bumper. The men watched incredulously as your body disappeared inside the engine space. You wriggled between the frame and the giant engine with a small light clenched in your teeth.

Your body pressed into the warm metal around you as you searched. When you spotted the offending piece of debris. You ever so gently twisted and coaxed it out of where it had been wedged. You felt him shake around you when it popped free. Dropping it to the concrete below with a clang, you wriggled your way out. Your clothes and hands had stripes of smudged grease and other remnants of vehicle fluids all over.

You popped your back after you slid out from under him and patted his hood. "Good to go, Optimus."

He'd never admit it, but having you pressed against the inside of his engine space felt... well, it made him feel things, to say the least. He thanked you, of course. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, but the thoughts running through his processor would've made him blush if he were able to.

-------

Crosshairs could feel that something was off as he moved. Almost like when humans get a stitch or muscle cramp. You noticed him moving to try and free whatever may be stuck or out of place. "Hey, Cross you, alright?" He looked up as he was feeling under his chest panels. "Something feels off, but I can't tell what or where it is."

"Can you transform? Maybe I can find it." He did as asked, transforming. "Where can you feel it in this form?"

"My engine space as far as I can tell." He pops his hood, and with a small flashlight, you look over parts of his engine block that are visible but can't see anything out of place. You lean over the side, looking between the frame and block. Something blue catches your eye, and you bend over, slipping your hand into the small gap. You feel Something wet and remove your arm to look at your fingers. Drops of blue enerjon color your skin and you hiss. "Looks like something cut one of your cables. Not all the way through, but you are leaking some enerjon. I can help stop the bleeding with some electrical tape if you want?"

"Please do. It can take a while for cables to seal on their own." You grabbed the electrical tape and practically climbed into his engine to reach the cable deep inside. Your chest and face were pressed into his engine so you could reach. As gently as you could, you wrapped up the leaking cable. Pushing up into a sitting position on your knees, you breathed a sigh of relief. "Just come get me when it feels like it's sealed up."

You closed his hood and walked back to do whatever you'd been doing beforehand. He watched your hips sway as you left. The feeling of your hands on his cables and block lingered long after you left, and he couldn't help the shiver that ran down his back strut.

-------

Bumblebee could've sworn he felt something in his undercarriage as he was driving with you to run an errand. When he ran over a bump, it stuck him like a thorn. He spoke his concerns over the radio, and you offered to take a look when you got back to base.

Later, you had him drive up onto a pair of car ramps. With his undercarriage exposed, you slid underneath him to search for anything that could be problematic. Nothing in his front half stuck out to you, so you slid further back, and almost at his rear axel, you spotted something shiny and out of place. It was lodged in the crack around his gas tank. "Bee, I found it! I'll try to pull it free, but you can't move, ok?" A beep and wirr was all you got in response, so you took it as an ok.

Lightly, you touch the underside of his tank, and he shakes at the contact. Your other hand grips the edge of the metal object and gives it a light tug. It shifts a bit but doesn't pop free. With more force, you tug and wiggle the piece, and it pops free. Bee jumps an inch but stays on the ramps, and you slide out from under him. A deep male voice from an old show speaks over his radio. "Thank you, love, you're a life saver!"

You give him a pat on the hood and examine the metal in your hand. "Looks like a piece of tin roofing. Good thing it didn't cut any cables or your tires."

The feeling of your hands on his undercarriage stayed for a while after you left. He wondered what it would be like to have you wash him by hand rather than going through the wash station at the base.

-------

Ratchet lost an important piece of the machine he was working on in a crack just small enough that his didgets couldn't slip through. He would've had Arcee help him, but she was still out on patrol. He looked over to you, sleeping on the couch. You were the only human on base at the moment, and he really needed that piece. Reluctantly, he walked over to the raised platform and called your name a few times.

You stirred and turned over to sleepily look at him. "Mmh, I'm up. What is it?" You stretch and yawn while still laying down. "I apologize for waking you, but I need your assistance with something." Standing you rub your eyes to clear them. He takes you in his servos and places you on the floor before the gap in the wall. Looking up at him questioningly, he finally tells you what's going on.

With him shining a light into the gap, you slip through all the way till your wide hips stop you from going further. The piece is thankfully within reach, and you just have to angle yourself to grab it. Your rear stuck out in full view, and he tried looking away, but his gaze kept slipping back to you as you reached for the object.

When you stood up holding the object in hand, he picked you up and placed you on the platform again. He thanked you but couldn't look you in the eye. You smiled up at him, none the wiser of the thoughts running through his processor.

[the-californicationist]

FaceTime (Price/Reader)

Warning: video/phone sex

It was around lunchtime when you usually heard from John. His deployment was stationed in some Eastern European locale, and over there, it would be late at night. He usually texted you throughout the day, and you’d wake up to his updates, but it had been radio silence for at least twenty-four hours and you were nervous.

You tried to stay busy, keeping yourself calm by talking to your friends and calling your mom, but the house was so empty without him. Sometimes you stole a cigar just to smell his smoke in the house again, lighting it on a plate like incense. He’d be cross if he found out, but you knew he’d forgive you. 

You logged out of your work email and undressed to hop in the shower. Then, just as you were about to step in, you heard your phone buzz. Abandoning the running shower, you lunged for your phone, turning it over to see John’s profile photo on the screen, smiling at you.

“John?” You panted, fear crawling up your throat. 

“Hey, love,” he whispered, his voice low and gravelly. He sounded exhausted.

“Thank God. I was worried sick. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sounded like he wanted to say no, “Everything’s fine.”

That was his code for ‘don’t ask.’ It made you even more concerned, but you kept that to yourself, not wanting to add to his mental stress.

“I miss you, John,” you sighed. 

Then, he was video calling you. You were naked, but he was careful. He would never call you in front of anyone. You swiped up to answer it. 

He seemed surprised to see your bare collarbones. He was shirtless, too. Ready for bed, alone in his bunk. 

“Oh, hey,” he smiled, “Look at you, pretty thing.”

You blushed, 

“Right back at you, handsome.”

He grinned, rubbing his big hand across his chest. You loved it when he did that. There was something so hot about his fingers petting through his thick chest hair, flashing over his pink nipples, warming his tired muscles, rippling and rising with his breaths. 

“Mm, careful, love. I’m already missin’ ya. Start praising me and I’m gonna grab you through this phone,” he joked with you, playfully threatening, flirting through his tiredness. 

“Wish you would, John,” you moaned, testing his limits. If you were lucky, maybe he would take the bait.

You heard the fabric of his sweatpants rustle, and when he repositioned the phone, you saw his pink cock being dragged out, heavy and hardening under its commander’s grasp. You moaned again, more enthusiastically this time, 

“Oh, fuck. I miss that cock,” you propped your phone up on the sink, leaning it against a bottle of soap and the tap. 

You saw your body on the screen, tossing your towel on the counter to show him your entire naked form. Your hands found your breasts, pulling at your nipples, squeezing the flesh for him and for you, feeling better by the second. Your hands were no match for his hands, but it would have to pass. 

“This cock misses you, baby. Why don’t you touch that soft little cunt for me, hm?”

You do as he says, eagerly sinking your fingers into yourself to obey him, sending waves of pleasure through your core as you do. You’re not ready yet, and you work yourself slowly as you watch his giant hand pump his fat shaft faster and faster in the darkness of his bunk. 

“I can’t wait for you to come home, John. I need to taste you again. I want you to put so much come in me that I feel full from it.”

“You like how I taste, love?” His voice was strained. He was concentrating on watching you fuck yourself on your hand. 

“I love it,” you confessed honestly, “You want me to show you how much?”

You didn’t wait for him to reply. You gathered your wetness on your fingers and showed it to him, making sticky strings of your own come drip between your fingers. He groaned, and then he gasped when he watched you lick them clean. 

“Fuck, do that again.”

You dipped your fingers into yourself, coating them with your own fluids and bent down closer to the camera so he could see the gleam of your juices as your fingers slid into your waiting mouth. You used your tongue to show him how clean they were. 

He groaned loudly, a familiar sound, and you saw white streams of come burst from his rosy tip, melting down his shaft like a tall candle. 

“Bloody hell, I needed that.”

You smiled, making a mental note to charge your vibrator before you get in the shower. You needed to let off the insane tension he had just built up inside of you.

You blew him a kiss and he caught it with his free hand, 

“Me, too. Call me tomorrow?”

“No need. Tomorrow, you’re gonna get the real thing.”