#great oxidation event

[pepperscorn]

[ID in alt]

au by @sonicheroes

they developed photosynthetic organisms, to the woes of 90% of life on earth.

[mindblowingscience]

The oldest evidence of photosynthetic structures reported to date has been identified inside a collection of 1.75-billion-year-old microfossils, a Nature paper reveals. The discovery helps to shed light on the evolution of oxygenic photosynthesis. Oxygenic photosynthesis, in which sunlight catalyzes the conversion of water and carbon dioxide into glucose and oxygen, is unique to cyanobacteria and related organelles within eukaryotes. Cyanobacteria had an important role in the evolution of early life and were active during the Great Oxidation Event around 2.4 billion years ago, but the timings of the origins of oxygenic photosynthesis are debated due to limited evidence.

Continue Reading.

[thepastisalreadywritten]

[katborg82]

I'm gonna try and rush through these next few eras as we're covering a lot of time with not much excitement.

The Paleoproterozoic era started off the Proterozoic eon about 2.5 billion years ago. With the microbial cyanobacteria thriving and photosynthesizing, the world would face some major consequences. The drastic increase of oxygen in the atmosphere would cause the Great Oxidation Event, which would kill off a huge majority of the microbial ecosystem populating Earth. The first mass extinction.

This event also sent earth into a series of ice ages over the next 300 million years. This was known as the Huronian Glaciation. It's a miracle that life pushed through this snowball Earth, but it wouldn't be long before it happened again..

[poondragoon]

Begging you to tell us also about when oxygen nearly sterilized the planet. You have a hypnotic writing style

Stop, please! I'm married!

Hokay, so, a fucktillion years ago (well, between 4 and 2.5 billion years, but at a certain point of imponderability all those big numbers look the same, so let's stick with the funny one, yeah?) nothing alive on earth had ever heard of "free elemental oxygen". They metabolized food anaerobically - by fermentation or CrP hydrolysis or maybe even simple glycolysis, as was the style at the time. The specifics are a bit conjectural, since microbial membrane proteins don't fossilize terribly well, but we have enough anaerobes kicking around to get an idea of what our ancestors probably had to work with.

Not this kind of fermentation, but it gives you an idea of what's up. Thanks, Wikimedia Commons!

Now, breaking food down into energy is one thing, but what about getting it in the first place? Well, the best way is to borrow some energy from the environment and use it to "cook" simple chemicals into more complex ones you can break back down. Basically translating environmental energy you can't use into a form which you can. The earliest way to do this was probably a form of chemosynthesis.

I won't bore you with the details, but this early chemosynthesis would have been...weird. The important part is that the process probably took hydrogen sulfide and carbon dioxide, broke them apart, and recombined the Choice Bits into sugar. Unfortunately, that process would have needed the Weird Earth Chemicals (energy source) and the stupid-high temperatures belching out of hydrothermal vents in order to work, and even then it was slow as hell! There was room for improvement

At some point, some plucky little microbe went "hey, if I use light to excite a pigment, I can use the electrons shot off that pigment to blast hydrogen sulfide and carbon dioxide apart instead of waiting on Weird Hot Slow Earth Chemicals!" This was huge. The fundamental principle was still basically the same: 12H2S + 6CO2 -> C6H12O6 + 12S + 6H20, but it was faster and easier than ever! Plus it made the earth purple!

There's a joke about Prince in here, I just know it. Thanks, Wikimedia Commons!

But, as is the running theme...we can do better.

Around 2.5 billion years ago, a tiny, subtle mutation arose. A minute riff on the existing form of photosynthesis played out in the genome of one lineage of microbe or another. One that was terribly advantageous: instead of using hydrogen sulfide - which needs to come from marine volcanoes or other microbes' waste - as a hydrogen source, these guys could use water. You know, the stuff that's everywhere. It was H U G E. These new cyanobacteria (so-called because instead of being purple, they're...well...cyan) rapidly began to dominate the marine microbial ecosystem.

However, this nifty new metabolism had a little problem: the byproduct of mashing water and carbon dioxide into sugar was oxygen.

If you've ever seen that post about how "oxygen is secretly killing us", know that it's not a joke. Oxygen is so horrifically electronegative that it freely oxidizes (hence the name) just about anything with an even remotely positive charge. If you're alive, uncontrolled oxidation is very very bad. And in a geological eyeblink, global oxygen levels went from this:

To THIS:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

This may not look like much, but if you've ever spritzed a little Barkeeper's Friend into a 100-gallon fishtank by accident while cleaning up the marine biology classroom you're interning for, you know just how dangerous a little of something can be (and yes, I still feel absolutely terrible, don't @ me). It's hard to quantify because...you know...bacteria don't fossilize too good...but based on isotopic analysis of Archaean sedimentary rock and paleontological technomagic, it's estimated that the oxygenation of the atmosphere killed off some 80% of Earth's microbial biomass. It was that bad.

POV: you're in the Archaean and about to do a war crime.

Eventually , the descendants of the oxygen-tolerant microbes evolved the ability to harness oxygen's horrific destructive power to help them metabolize food more efficiently. WAY more efficiently. Instead of making sugar from water and CO2 and fermenting it to alcohol, they could use oxygen to break that sugar back down into water and CO2. That's an absolutely ridiculous amount of energy. Life on earth sped the FUCK UP. Everything started living, eating, reproducing, and dying at a more rapid pace than ever, but untold microbial biodiversity was lost forever.

If you take one thing away from this post or my Methanosarcina addition to the Lystrosaurus post, let it be this: If you're an organism on earth who enjoys being not-extinct, DON'T FUCK WITH THE ATMOSPHERE.

[deadstonemasonssociety]

Photosynthesis, which harnesses sunlight to convert water and carbon dioxide into glucose and oxygen, might seem like something plants and algae are just doing quietly to themselves over there, but it is the basis for the survival of nearly all living things.

Not only do photosynthetic organisms form the foundation of most food webs, their metabolic processes fill the atmosphere with the breathable oxygen most of us need to survive.

We know that, early in Earth's history, there wasn't a lot of oxygen floating freely in the atmosphere and oceans. However, different lines of geochemical evidence reveal that oxygen levels suddenly skyrocketed some 2.4 billion years ago in what is known as the Great Oxidation Event. It's unclear what caused it, but one possibility is the emergence of photosynthetic organisms.

[beepsnivy]

She doesn’t even know she’s a result of the great oxidation event. Ignorant little beast

[jim-the-simpleton]

We Are The Descendants Of The Amoeba You Couldn't Kill In The Great Oxidation Event

[madmonksandmaenads]

Adoration of the Cyan King

(Prepare a bowl of pond water, stand before a plot of land you intend to sow, raise the water to the noontide sun)

Hail oh, Cyan King!

Great Sire of untold numbers.

First to breath! First to rule!

You whose children multiplied to cover the world.

You whose breath encompassed and rusted the world.

You whose toxins carry the foolish from the world.

You whose legacy is blood and iron. I dig this trench, a canal from past to now (with iron tool dig a small trench in the earth)

Conqueror of Archae

Great Herald of Flora and Fauna

I give you now the fruits of your labor

The children of the world you have borne

(Sprinkle some rice or other grains into the bowl and upon the earth)

I thank you for your oxygenating breath.

I thank you for the nitrogen planted within the soil.

Breath your life into this earth

as you breathed your life into me.

Ignite the fire of generation within this soil.

As you ignited my inner flame upon my birth.

Breath with me,

As I breath with you.

(Pour out the bowl upon the soil trench as you let out a long exhale)

Welcome, oh Cyan King,

to a world of your making.

[almostfoxglove]

ONE NIGHT EARLY

a secret santa surprise for @talaok ! ✨ as part of @pedrostories' #pedrostoriesgift24 event ✨

RATING: Explicit (18+) | PAIRING: Joel Miller x f!Reader WORD COUNT: 2.2k | CW: Established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff, brief reference to canon-typical violence / danger / the end of the world, but you're safe.

SUMMARY: You vow to find out where Joel hides his Christmas gifts while he's away on patrol.

read on ao3 | main masterlist | get notifs

It has to be here somewhere.

In the three years since you moved in with Joel—hell, even in the two years before that—you have never found your Christmas present before the day. The man’s determined, sworn to his secrecy. Takes great pride in catching you snooping around, digging, scurryin’, as he once muttered under his breath, shaking his head with that charm and smirk you can’t help but fall for. Every year, you swear you’ll find it, and Joel just crosses his arms with a shrug, cheek dimpled and eyes dark with affection, and tells you good luck, darlin’, confident you won’t.

This year, though. This year will be different because for the whole week leading up to Christmas, Joel is away with Tommy on patrol and you have the house to yourself. Seven days of freedom to pry and stick your nose where it probably doesn’t belong.

It takes you two days to tear the house apart. Every dish yanked from his cupboard, every shirt and worn pair of jeans thrown from the closet, every pocket turned out—you flip the mattress and unbundle his socks and rip the covers off all the couch cushions and find fuck all. One old, oxidized penny. Dust bunnies, dryer lint, wood shavings. Spent matches, a bullet case. A fossilized receipt robbed of its printed contents.

You spend two more going through everything again. The place is a dump; when Ellie swings by to borrow his guitar she lifts one eyebrow at you from the doorway, weary of the tornado you’ve left scattered across the first floor. Says, “Good to know four days is all it takes for you to lose your shit.”

“I’m not losing my shit,” you say, one hand waving dismissively as you climb the stairs. 

Quick on your heels she mutters, “Whatever you say, grandma,” just loud enough for you to hear. 

When she’s gone, you take a deep breath. The living room is a slaughter, more disastrous than the aftermath of any raiders or weather event. Couch cushions stand mountainous and stripped naked, the carpet’s rolled up against one wall, all the charcoal and half-spent logs have been scraped from the fireplace onto the floor. You’ll admit that might not have been strictly necessary, but you’ve looked everywhere, checked everything, and uncovered zilch. No gifts. And at the very least, Joel has—with his handsome, freckled, silvered face proud and smiling—conceded that his hiding spot is in the house. Doesn’t stash nothing at Tommy’s or in Ellie’s garage. It’s here. Somewhere. Driving you up the goddamn wall.

It’s not like you even know what you’re looking for, but you’ll know when you see it—of this you are sure.

Room by room, you reassemble the house, shuffling all the knick-knacks you’ve each cautiously assembled in this bizarre second chance at a life into their proper positions. His carvings are your favorites, and you rehome them on their shelves with care. You slide the few photographs each of you has into line on the mantle, behind the string lights. It ain’t the same as the world that for nearly thirty years has been dead and gone, but now and then you get flickers of that long-absent comfort. The day the Christmas lights go up in Jackson. The snowmen built by your neighbor’s kids in the street. Jars of homemade strawberry jam. 

Ellie and Joel playing guitar, his deep timbre humming along to her clumsy chords. 

The tight squeeze of your chest when his boots croak the porch and you know he’s finally home. 

The softness of his face first thing in the morning, scarred and weathered, kind. All the long tresses of his graying hair slumped out of place.

As you restore the house’s comfort and clutter over the shrinking days of his absence, you recheck and recheck and recheck and continue to come up empty. At night in the black veil of your shared bedroom, you sleep on his side of the bed with your face crushed in his pillow, breathing him in. 

On the 24th, you wake prepared to wave the white flag when he returns in the evening. You’re going to pout about it, but you’ll give in. Surrender to the superiority of his stupid, squirrelling mind, and admit once and for all that he’s bested you. You have no fucking clue where he hides his gifts. He wins. But you sulk as the day bleeds by, and more than once catch yourself affixed with a frown as you trudge through the crunch of Jackson’s snow-packed streets. As you groom the horses due for the next patrol shift and eat your dinner in the mess hall across from folks you’re only half listening to as they regale you with tales of their day, too distracted by the scrape of spoons against bowls and the emptiness of your hands.

Greedy, that’s what you’re being. Wanting all of him for yourself. You just miss him. You hate when patrol stretches this long, leaving you alone with your cloying worry.

After the sun has set and bowls have emptied, Jackson goes blue. All the snow piled to frame the gravel roads glitters with fresh frost and ice. On your way back to the house, you watch your shadow slide and flicker as you pass beneath the warmth of streetlamps. Someone down the road has a window open, letting the notes of their piano ribbon through the air. 

Even with all the lights and the chatter that tonight could bring fresh snow to the valley, you can’t help but feel a hollowness that you’ve only managed to shake when Joel’s around and the two of you are alone. It’s not all the time, but it happens—a magic you’d believed impossible before you stumbled across this Eden half-dead and were brought inside. Impossible until you met him, and everything latched into place. 

You’ve loved before. Almost got married once, in the world that’s gone. But there’s no comparing how it felt to fall slowly, clumsily into Joel. 

You’re not sure when he’s due to return tonight. Hopefully soon.

Shedding layers as you tread into the hollow house, you light a weakling’s fire in the hearth you know he’ll tease you for, then ascend to your bedroom to change, flicking the light on upstairs so he knows, whenever he gets back, that you’re home. Waiting for him, empty-handed but no less relieved. But as you cross the gold-lit bedroom, a floorboard near the foot of the bed wheezes strangely. This whole house croaks and groans just like everything in Jackson—that sure ain’t new—but this sound is different. You’re not sure you’ve heard it before. Not sure you’ve ever stepped in this exact place.

A grin slips sharp across your face at the smell of victory. You kick back the corner of the rug to bring your heel down hard against the board beneath it, and pop. Up comes the plank, perfect as a seesaw, revealing the black cavern beneath. 

In the shadowed hideaway, a small box lies in the dark beneath the floor.

There it is.

But all the world beyond this room, this box, disappears the moment you set it in your palm.

You don’t hear the porch steps’ announcement, nor the turn of the latch. You don’t hear the squealing door or how the heavy footsteps soften as he removes his boots to leave outside. Not even your name, often intoxicating on his tongue, reaches you in the bedroom—nor when he repeats it on the stairs. 

You’re too busy staring at what you’ve found after all you’re searching.

Then Joel’s in the doorway behind you, and you wake from what you’ve just now begun to believe must be some strange dream.

“Stubborn,” comes his voice, and at the sound you smack the box against your chest to hide it as you whirl around, still on your knees. Stupid you know. Useless. He can see the rug peeled back and the hole cut out of the floor, slender as a piano key. He knows you’ve won.

Broad in the door’s wooden frame, pink-cheeked and snug in his leather coat, Joel stands with the frosting of fresh snow clinging to his hair. He’s been growing it out, to your great pleasure, letting all his silver and curls go free. “I didn’t—” you start to say, but the words thin out and crumble. Your head’s not on quite straight, your heart not yet settled. Eyes still nickel round with shock.

You hadn’t considered how he might react if you succeeded. Maybe he’ll be mad. Take it back. 

But as you stare up at him, all bambi, Joel shakes his head and one snow-dotted curl slips out from the shell of his ear. As he rights it, his scarred hand rising, you see the dirt under his nails in the warm light. The stain on the knee of his jeans. You see too his lips, plush and touched by winter’s aridity, as they twitch in one corner, curling into his cheek. Curling up. Smiling as his eyes hold yours, not mad. Not shy. He’s been inside long enough now that there’s a fifty-fifty chance that the color in his cheeks might even be a blush. 

“Are you mad?” you ask, your voice soft enough to call a whisper.

He shakes his head again, steps over the threshold, and amber light from the lamp falls over him like Midas, turning him from man to gold. One step more and his mouth pulls wider, cuts that wink in his cheek you can’t help but stare at. “Course not,” he says gently. “Knew you were lookin’. Y’can have it one night early.”

It probably doesn’t mean what you think it means, but you’re surprised to discover you’re hoping as you swallow hard, blinking some of the shock from your eyes. He’s here; you ought to get up and hug him—welcome him home, your person here, safe and whole—but you’re too scared to move. Terrified that any flinch will make the box and its contents disappear. 

“Is this for me?”

Wry, he rolls his eyes. “Think you know it is.”

“I feel bad,” you say. “I got you a shirt.”

He’s generous enough to chuckle, and the low, earthy sound of it strikes flames along the column of your neck. “Could use a new shirt,” he says, smirking a little. “This one needs a wash.”

“Shut up,” you chide, but the words come out weak. He’s not allowed to joke right now because if you laugh, you might start to cry.

“Darlin’,” he says too softly. That’s the tone that makes honey of your insides, cruel in the gentle way it asks you to let him in.

Though your vision starts to puddle, you wrestle the feeling back. “S’pretty.”

The slightest nod. Then he unzips his coat to lay over the armchair in the corner of the room and you watch him, pinned to the floor despite the ache in your knees. “Was hopin’ you’d think so,” he admits with his back to you, the blades and muscles in his shoulders and back sliding gracefully beneath his flannel like waves on a lake. Antithetical to the thunder of your heart, Joel moves with a patience you can’t quite believe. In no rush at all, like you’re not holding what you’re holding in your shaking hands. Like some little band of metal doesn’t mean what it did before the world bit the dust and fell away.

The question sits like an icicle on your tongue, slowly melting, pooling behind your teeth. 

Joel lumbers back, the soreness of his body just barely visible in his bow-legged stride, to sit on the edge of the bed just behind you. The mattress squeaks. One hand cards through his hair. Slow is his next breath. Steady. But on the exhale, you swear you hear the tiniest shake, a tiny tremble. 

Realization strikes down at you like lightning: electric and tingling, zipping skull to spine to fingertips, blinding and white. He’s nervous. 

Which means the ring in your hand isn’t just a ring.

Lamblike, you force yourself to your feet and the mattress mouses as you sink against his side. Igneous is his body against yours—such a familiar warmth. Rigid and walled to all but a few. Open to you, in moments like these, when he lets you glimpse the whole of him in his eyes and you swear you might be capable of reading the thoughts straight from his mind. Joel nudges his arm harder to yours, and you see the question coming before it slips from his tongue. You see it brewing in the gilt of his eyes just as clearly as you hear your own answer ricochet in your head. 

You don’t cut him off, jump to yes. Instead you lower your hands from their hold against your chest at last, letting the box sit in your lap, open to his regard. Evening lamplight makes ice of the clear stone set squarely on its ring, and the heat of his breath kisses your cheek as he leans in to mumble,

“Y’gonna make me get down on one knee?”

dividers by @saradika-graphics!

NOTE: I am officially moving away from tag lists as they've gotten lengthy (thank you for that <3) so please follow @foxglovenotifs and turn on notifications to get alerts for future updates!

[gaynaturalistghost]

@marsmarl I hope you don’t feel like I’m putting you on blast but I wanted to explain better (with helpful pics) than I could in the comments.

So the issue is. We are talking about two different things. And they’re related, and you are right. I’ve tried to cut down a lot of the chemistry but I was talking about oxidized iron (looses electrons, doesn’t have to bond to oxygen) and you were talking about oxides (iron bonds to oxygen). I know. Chemistry. Some of those oxides don’t fall out of solution (ocean water) and some do. It’s kind of a lot to explain but I hope this is somewhat coherent.

(Edit: wrong. Will correct shortly)

My favorite part of the “wine-dark sea” conspiracy -romans or w/e described the sea as a red thing so they must have not been able to see blue- is that (a very very long time ago) the oceans were actually red. And cyanobacteria (named IN LATIN for the word ‘blue’) were responsible for oxidizing all the iron out to no longer be red. It’s just fun.

[etirabys]

abiogenesis & endosymbiosis timeline

I put this together after reading Nick Lane's The Vital Question. The proposed timeline:

3.8bya: The earliest evidence for life is isotopic fractionation. The carbon (and iron, sulfur, nitrogen) atoms in graphite in Greenland are non-randomly sorted, which indicates the presence of cells whose enzymes have a slight preference for the lighter forms of each. However, geological processes can also produce non-random sorting, so this evidence is ambiguous.

3.5bya: Less ambiguously, we have microfossils that look like cells, again with isotopic signatures.

We think bacteria and archaea split off really early, close to the beginning of life (abiogenesis) itself. This is because their cell walls and membranes are so different it's hard to see how one could have evolved from the other. They probably emerged in parallel when they became independent at all. (Quick sketch of abiogenesis, and bacteria/archaea divergences.)

3.2bya: We see bacterial activity in rust bands in rocks. When bacteria strip electrons from iron dissolved in the oceans, the oxidated iron precipitates out into rust and sinks down to the ocean floor.

All bacteria and archaea respire (strip electrons from a donor 'fuel' to generate ATP, which fuels cellular activity). Many donors are possible – common ones are Fe2+, H2S, or H2O (which respectively become Fe3+, S, and O2 after the electron is stripped). Water is the last to be cracked as a donor.

2.4bya: It's cracked now, by some bacteria (archaea never manage it), which leads to The Great Oxidation Event. The oxygen is first absorbed by the oceans, the seabed, and land surfaces. It'll take over a billion years before the oxygen 'sinks' are exhausted, and oxygen accumulates in the atmosphere for real.

1.8bya: A bacterium somehow ends up inside an archaeon cell, and somehow they don't die about it. The bacterium becomes a specialized energy-producing unit, allowing the host cell to grow larger and more complex. They become the first eukaryote, invent sex, and spawn all complex life. (You can read my RPF about it btw.)

1bya: This engulfment – endosymbiosis – happens one more time, to produce chloroplasts in plants.

0.5-6bya: Atmospheric oxygen levels are rising for real now. We see large complex eukaryotes for the first time. These creatures have specialized tissues whose failure threatens the entire organism, and it becomes advantageous to separate out the germline (the part of eukaryotes that divide forever, e.g. sperm and eggs) and make the rest of the body just durable enough to last as long as the most failure-prone tissues. Death by design has entered the world.

[mybeingthere]

Heidi Gustafson is an artist and ochre specialist based in the rainy, volcanic North Cascades of rural northern Washington. Her highly collaborative and intuitive projects include an ochre sanctuary with over 600 earth pigments from around Earth. Called the “woman archiving the world’s ochers” by the New York Times, and the “ochre whisperer” in American Craft, her work has been featured in several books and publications.

Heidi Gustafson is the founder of Early Futures, an artistic research site with a current focus on ochre, iron oxides, land pigments, and subtle earth activism.

The Ochre Sanctuary is also included under the Early Futures umbrella: "Ochre Sanctuary is an evolving, living place that serves to protect and care for ochre, ie. iron-based earth and pigment wisdom. It’s currently based in tiny cabin in far north Cascade foothills of Nooksack territory, Washington, USA," explains their site.

"Counsel of ochres includes hundreds of rocks and dusts, across the color spectrum, gathered and offered by citizens around the planet, including spiritual and cultural ochres such as kokowai from Aotearoa (New Zealand) and meaningful planetary ochres like GOE (Great Oxidation Event ) 2 billion+ years old goethite or wastewater vivianite from Taiwanese industrial plants.

https://naturalearthpaint.com/.../researching-for-early...

https://www.instagram.com/heidilynnheidilynn

[organical-mechanical]

In my opinion, anything man-made falls underneath the category of “natural”. After all, humans exist as a part of nature, not in defiance of it.

“Natural” doesn’t mean non-destructive, of course.

Is a beaver dam unnatural because it ends up completely changing the environment?

What about the great oxidation event?

Is tool use unnatural? If only some is, then what’s the line? What makes a sharpened stick natural but a bulldozer unnatural?

[lakemojave]

I know you probably want fun and sexy asks when drunk, but I'm gonna ask one of my favorite questions anyway.

What is your favorite Mass Extinction Event? Mine is the Great Oxidation Event, when bacteria figured out photosynthesis and proceeded to rust and poison all of life with the excess oxygen they made as a byproduct. It just sounds so silly, that bacteria are sunlight for the first time and promptly nearly ended life just as it was starting.

Gotta be the Toba supereruption. My god anyone remember the time the earth just fucking exploded? classic

[yoitsjay]

Fast and What?

Pairings: Band Au bassist! Tech x fem reader

Summary: you and Tech both share an intrest in old cars, so you invite him to a street race to see some other beautiful cars, in hopes you'd win one... and you do.

Warnings: porn with a plot, unprotected sex (p in v), oral sex, cunnalingus, cream pie, techs a dirty bastard

Authors note: I don't know Jack shit about cars, BTW. So if I botched something, cry about it. Also tech has a full head of lucious hair in the modern world, so suck on my nuts.

Word count: 3,468

You had been the Bad Batch’s stage manager for a little over a month, growing close with each of them individually. Each band member had their quirks and flaws but you didn’t mind any of them.

You were currently in the studio garage, listening to some of the batchers practice. They didn’t need you there to oversee that though so you decided now would be a great time to give your 67 firebird a good ol tuneup and wash for your secret event tonight.

You were wearing a pair of loose black jeans and a black tank top that already had oil stains in it, and you got comfortable underneath the car. You had all the things necessary in order to detail your car, like oil and spark plugs, all necessary items for an old car like yours, as well as more bottles of nitrous oxide which you had built into your car… for the special events.

Currently you were doing an oil change, laying underneath with an oil catcher beside you underneath the drain cap for the oil tank. You had loosened it up before flicking it off completely, managing to avoid getting a lot of oil on your hands, watching as it drained into the oil catcher.

You moved out from under the car, humming along to the song that the band was currently rehearsing as you grabbed the specific oil you needed from your trunk, placing it by the hood before you slipped back under the car, twisting the cap back on after the oil had all drained out.

You moved the oil catcher off to the side so you wouldn’t trip on it, and walked to the hood of your car, popping it open with one hand while you used the other to clip the metal hood stand onto the top of the hood so it stayed up.

You then found the top of the oil tank and you twisted off the cap, grabbing your oil funnel and sticking it in. “Changing the oil?” Tech spoke up, his voice making you jump as you didn’t even realize that he had walked into the garage. “Yeah, amongst other things. I gotta get her tuned up for the big event tonight.” You chuckled, and started filling the tank with the clean oil.

“What event?” Tech asked, adjusting his glasses as he walked over to you, watching you work from over your shoulder. You glanced at him for a moment as you finished with the oil, removing the funnel and putting the cap back on the oil container, doing the same with the car's oil tank.

you turned to face Tech fully now, hands on your hips as you grinned at him. “Street racing.” You stated, lowering the hood as you tidied up your workspace before grabbing a full tank of nitrous oxide. You entered your car, gesturing for Tech to join you in the passenger seat as you changed out bottles, and gave it a quick pressure test and a test to see if it was actually full, and it was.

“Street racing… that is illegal is it not?” He asked you, watching intently as you changed out the tanks. When you left to put the other tank in the back of your car, he took a moment to admire the interior which was just as pristine as the outside.

“Yeah, but it’s so much fun, and it’s not like I ever get caught. There’s people monitoring police channels, and if they get any news of police headed our way, we get radioed and then we split tail and reschedule.” You explained to Tech as you entered the driver's seat again, staring at him as he admired your car’s design before looking at you.

“Maybe i’ll take you with me tonight.” You suggested, seeing something flash in his eyes as he raised his eyebrows slightly. “I would… I would be interested in experiencing this street racing… but won’t there be traffic?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Nope! We again have more cars to block off the straight shot roads. People get pissed sure but at the time of night we actually race there isn’t much traffic anyway.” You chuckled, checking the time on your watch.

“Well I gotta get home and get ready for tonight… How about I come pick you up at your place around ten? The race starts at eleven so I can introduce you to some friends.” You suggested, leaning back in your car as you grinned at him.

Tech looked away from you for a moment, looking like he was having a conversation in his head before he slowly nodded, looking at you. “yes- i would rather enjoy that i think… i will see you at ten Pm” He replied, getting out of the passenger side, gently closing the door behind him. “Can you let Hunter know I'm leaving for the evening?” You called back to Tech, who nodded to you before leaving the garage.

You started your car, letting it rumble for a few moments as it cycled through the new oil. Afterwards you drive off, speeding down the street, only slowing down to the regular speed when you get to the main roads.

-

Ten o'clock rolled around quickly enough, and you had just pulled up to Tech’s home just as the clock hit Ten. You stayed in your car, having no reason to get out as you already saw Tech exiting his house. He was wearing a darker pair of jeans with what looked to be a new rip forming at one of the knees.

He wore a plain black shirt and a tan leather jacket overtop, along with his glasses of course. But his hair wasn’t slicked back like it usually was and you could see the waves in his hair, and the little curls that fell across his forehead.

Tech climbed into the passenger seat and you beamed at him. “You look good.” You complimented. You were wearing something a little more revealing.

It was a form fitting black dress that stopped at your center thigh, underneath that you had on a pair of black mini shorts, and a pair of fishnet leggings. The dress had long sheer sleeves, and an open collar. You decorated your neck with two different necklaces and wore some bulky rings on your fingers.

“You look stunning.” tech spoke bluntly, and you could feel the heat rise up your cheeks. “Thank you, Tech.” You replied softly, shifting the gear into drive as you checked for any traffic before driving off towards the location of the street race. You could see hundreds of people already, drinking and dancing to the music that played. You pulled up to the temporary parking spots for the racers, getting out and gesturing for \tech to follow as a group of girls, some of your closest friends ran over to you.

“Hey sexy! who's the cute toy you brought this time?” One of the girls asked, you rolled your eyes and nudged her playfully. “This is Tech, and he's not a toy and NO you may not touch him.” You answered quickly, gently grabbing his hand so he could stay close to you.

Tech’s cheeks flushed upon the contact, but he was grateful for it too, seeing just how many people littered this place gave him a bit of anxiety. You gave his hand a slight squeeze before leading him to some of the booths that were set up and selling easy foods like burgers and hot dogs. “Hungry?” You asked him as you approached one of those stands. “No thank you.” He replied, gripping your hand still as you ordered a hot dog.

It didn;t take you long to dress it in whatever condiments you wanted, and you turned back to look at him with a smile. “It's pretty crazy isn’t it?” You asked him before taking a bite into the hot dog, accidently getting some of your lipstick on the bread. You wiped it off, but when it did not come off you just gave up and kept eating before it was finished.

“We can wait in the car until the race starts if you want, and just listen to some music.” You offered, not wanting the man to get too stressed out before the race even started. However Tech shook his head. “No- no i should be okay… I appreciate your concern however.” He told you, and you offered him a smile before squeezing his hand again, this time leading him to where the other racers were.

“hey look who it is! Morticia Adams in the flesh.” One of the racers joked, and in return you rolled your eyes. “Yeah well unlike a fictional character who can't hurt you, I can and I will geld you. I got the shears in my trunk.” You jested, but made your tone sound serious. The man gulped, and looked away from you.

You rolled your eyes, and turned to the third racer, another woman. But her attention wasn’t on you, she was looking Tech up and down like she was a piece of candy.

“I have a proposal.” She spoke up suddenly, staring at you directly now. You raised an eyebrow, but nodded for her to continue. “If you win you can have my car. But if I win… I want a week with your boy toy.” She giggled, licking her lips as she winked at Tech, who squeezed your hand a bit tighter.

You stepped forward, somewhat shielding him with your body. “Absolutely not- Tech isn’t an item to be traded.” You hissed. But the woman just rolled her eyes before whistling, and the crowd cleared, revealing a sleek and absolutely stunning dodge charger, with some powerful mods added to it too.

you bit down on your lip, and was about to speak up to decline when Tech decided to speak up instead. “You have a deal… only because I have faith that Y/n will leave you in the metaphorical dust she will kick up.” Tech stated, and your eyes went wide as you turned to look at him. “Are you sure? if i lose you-”

“You won't lose to her, Y/n.” Tech stated, like he already knew the outcome of the race. You bit your lip again, staring into his eyes. Tech nodded, and even smiled a little bit. You sighed, and then turned to the woman, letting go of Tech’s hand to shake hers. “It’s on.”

And with a deal struck, the race started a bit early, and now only consisted of two racers, you and that woman, who’s name you discovered to be Natalie. Tech sat in the passenger side of your car, holding onto the handle on the roof just in case. You revved your engine, and made sure everything was primed and at your disposal. One hand rested on the wheel, the other on the stick shift beside you.

You stared directly ahead, not bothering to look at the woman who was blowing Tech kisses which he also ignored. And instead he stared at you, placing his hand on yours. “You will be victorious, Y/n.” Tech muttered to you, and you tore your eyes away from the road, looking into his instead.

“I don’t know why you have so much faith in me.” You muttered to him, but he only smiled. “I only request that you trust me.” He stated, and you nodded before looking at the road as the flag girl walked out between the two vehicles.

You revved your engine again, switching your car to drive, pressing down on the break. And as soon as the flag girl signaled to go, you stepped on the gas and sped down the road. You switched gears as soon as you needed to, but not a minute before or a minute later. And for a long part of the race, you and Natalie were neck and neck.

You glanced over at her, and she flipped you off, flashing a quicked smile as she started to prep her nitrous oxide, before flipping whatever switch she needed to give her that short boost. “Too soon.” you muttered, and switched gears again, hitting near the max speed of your vehicle, already catching up to her as you neared the finish line.

you reached out to the switches connected to the oxide tank, and counted down in your mind… two… one…

you flicked the switch, and you got the boost you needed to send you flying past Natalie and past the finish line. You didn't stop, but you did slow down as you drove away from the race, circling back to the starting line. Natalie did the same, and when she got out of her car she let out a shrill string of curses, storming over to you as she handed you the car's registration.

You grinned, and walked over to your brand new car, a giggle leaving your lips as you looked over at Tech, who was leaning against the door of the firebird. “Thank you.” You spoke up. tech raised an eyebrow before replying. “For what?” He asked, and you snorted, walking up to him, grabbing his hands in yours. “For believing in my capabilities.” You explained, staring down at the ground.

Tech’s hand reached up to your face, hesitating for only a second before he cupped your cheek, sliding his thumb under your chin as he tilted your head up so you were looking at him. “I told you, trust in me, didn’t i?” He questioned, and you nodded with a slight chuckle. “Yeah I suppose you did.”You muttered, pulling away from him as you walked to your brand new car.

“You can drive the firebird… but i have a place i wanna show you before we head back to my place, and before i take you home.” You explained, getting into the driver's seat, letting out a low whistle when you did so.

The old muscle car was beautiful, and powerful too. And soon you were driving away from the race, Tech following behind as you drove to the upper parts of Los Angeles, reaching a hill that overlooked the city, but was far from any other people.

You parked and shut off your engine, perching yourself on the hood of your new car, admiring the shining lights of the city underneath you as tech pulled up and parked beside you. He walked over to where you were, leaning against the front of the charger beside you, admiring the same thing you were.

Tech eventually turned his head to look at you as you spoke up, still looking forward.

“beautiful, don’t you think?” You asked him as the lights of the city reflected across your face. Tech sighed in agreement, but he wasn’t thinking about the city. “Yes, you are.” He blurted, and your head turned sharply towards him, eyes wide as you stared at him, lips parted slightly. ‘What?” You asked him, noticing the red tent creep up on his own cheeks.

Tech cleared his throat, moving to stand in front of you, running a hand through his hair. “I said you, Y/n, are stunning.” He stated, staring into your eyes as your jaw dropped wider. The man moved to stand between your legs, gently placing his hands on your hips as he leaned into you.

You did the same until your lips were practically milimetres away from each other. You let your eyes flutter closed, your hands sliding up his arms before finding purchase atop his shoulders. “May i?” He whispered, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course.” You muttered, only waiting a second before Tech’s lips landed against yours in a surprisingly heated kiss.

You slid one of your hands up, cradling the back of Tech’s head as you pulled him closer, spreading your legs wider to feel more of him against you. Tech squeezed your thigh, nipping at your bottom lip which elicited a soft moan, which gave him access to the deeper parts of your mouth.

You both started getting hot, even in what little clothes you did wear.

Tech broke the kiss only for a moment as he shedded his leather jacket, and your hands immediately slid up his shirt, a soft gasp escaping your lips when you felt up a solid abdomen, and the fault outline of abs on his stomach. “What have you been hiding from me?” You questioned, lifting his shirt up and over his head, tossing it onto the ground beside his jacket.

Tech simply shrugged. “I hid nothing, you just simply did not look” He concurred, and you rolled your eyes in response before lifting your hips, pulling your dress upwards so it bunched around your waist. You then hastily pulled down your shorts, but Tech was growing impatient.

His hands flew between your legs, grabbing ahold of the fishnets before he ripped a hole and exposed your pussy to the cold night air. You shuddered, and Tech paused before bending down and grabbing his leather jacket which he then wrapped around your shoulders.

Your face heated at the gesture, and you gripped the leather as tech got down on his knees in front of you. What he did next basically sent your soul flying into orbit as he began eating you out. And it was safe to say he was the best at going down on you than any other man, as he pulled moan after moan from your lips before that coil had built up and then snapped as you came on his tongue.

When Tech believed you were wet enough he got back up to his feet, unbuckling his belt as he let his pants drop, followed by his boxers which loosely hung from his knees, but he didn’t bother taking them off fully.

Instead, Tech grabbed your hips and he pulled you towards him, his tip nudging against your entrance which made you gasp in delight. But, Tech had paused, and the anticipation you had been building up was getting close to overflowing.

So, without a second thought you wrapped your legs around his hips and you pulled him forward, a loud moan falling from your lips as his cock found purchase inside of you.

You dug your nails into his shoulders, but because of your sudden movements Tech decided that you deserved no time to prepare, and he pressed your body further against the hood of your car, his hips snapping against yours, slow, but hard.

“Faster- please baby-” You begged, and the way your pussy tightened around him, he really couldn’t do anything but give you what you were begging for.

So he thrusted faster, wrapping his arms around your torso as he pulled your body against his, sucking deep red hickeys into your neck, drawing out more and more moans until he made you cum again.

Tech continued pumping his cock inside you, his own grunts and moans escaping from his lips as he muttered something to you. “What?” You choked out, and Tech spoke up again, louder this time. +May i- hng- may i cum inside you?” he asked breathlessly, his request driving you mad with want as you nodded frantically. “Yes! yes please-” You groaned, dragging your nails down his back as he snapped his hips forward.

He set a ruthless pace against you, and you ended up cumming for a third time just as his own orgasm broke through him, and he came deep inside you.

He rolled his hips into you, helping you ride out your own orgasm as well as his. He pressed gentler kisses to your skin, raising his head as he pulled you into a gentle kiss on the lips, pulling his cock out of you, watching as his cum and your juices leaked out onto the hood of your brand new car.

You chuckled, breathless. “I have some clean rags in the backseat of the firebird.” You muttered, and Tech nodded, leaving momentarily as he grabbed the clothes, coming back to clean you up, which you were grateful for.

When you were both dressed again Tech helped you to stand up properly, holding you close as he pressed some more kisses to your neck which was littered with hickeys. “I’m going to have a hard time explaining this tomorrow.” You muttered to him, hearing his honeyed chuckle which lit a fire in your core all over again.

“I think we have some unfinished business at my place.” You breathed out, and Tech nodded in agreement, letting you go when he knew he could stand on your own.

“I'll be right behind you.”

And oh boy was he… the shy bassist, a fucking menice in your sheets. Who would have thought.

➺

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