#holy crap that's long

[justafanbutcurious]

[kakujis]

you only call me on the weekend.

warnings: afab!fem reader, situationship, unrequited feelings, oliver can't admit he loves you, praise, creamp*e, implied multiple rounds, that should be it! not proofread.

ft + wc: oliver aiku hehe. around 1.6k

a/n: THIS IS A REPOST! I'm trying to get back into the swing of things, but alas, I am extremely busy with end of semester stuff. This got fl*gged so I'm hoping this repost can make it to more ppl, mwah to all the new Oliver lovers!!

you hate oliver aiku. you hate the missed calls, the times he’s stood you up, and the amount of times he’s left you on read. but when your phone chimed that night and you saw his name etched across the brightly lit screen of your phone, you didn’t hesitate to open it. 

oliver♡: hey baby, you free tonight? 

don’t respond. don’t fall so easily. don’t give him what he wants. this is the mantra that you tell yourself every time he pops up, whenever the other girls he pursues turns him down and he tries to come crawling back to you for the sake of getting his dick wet. 

but you’re weak for him and that’s why you respond without fail every time. 

y/n: i might be. why? 

you bite your lip, fuck, you know why. 

oliver♡: i miss you, pretty girl. that’s why. let me come over, yeah? 

that stupid phrase has your thighs rubbing together and you can feel your resolve, what little you had anyway, cracking. 

y/n: mm, dunno. 

oliver♡: you don’t miss me? 

say no, your mind screams, for once, don’t let him get his way. 

y/n: …maybe a little. 

oliver♡: be there soon, <3. 

y/n: that doesn’t mean come over! 

you sigh, frowning and turning your phone off before tossing it to the side. you try to immerse yourself back into the show you were watching, but the prospect of oliver coming made your hands clammy and you’re unsure if it’s due to nerves or excitement.

there’s a knock on your door and your stomach drops, fuck that was fast. of course he was nearby, he knows you can’t say no. and that's the annoying part, that he was waiting nearby, planning, no, knowing that you would let him in.

as you walk over, you steel yourself, you’re gonna give him a piece of your mind this time. if he wants to keep fucking you, then he needs to put a little more effort in. yeah, that’s it, that’s what you’ll say. 

but as soon as the door opens, he’s on you. you can’t even get a syllable out before he’s slamming you against the wall and crashing his lips onto yours. he kisses you like he’s starving, like you’re the first meal he’s had in years.

you can barely breathe, the air sucked out of your lungs as he picks you up, your legs naturally curling around his waist, while your nails are digging into his shoulders as he turns and kicks the door shut. 

he’s fast, barely stumbling down the hallway as he walks you to the bedroom. throwing you down onto the bed, you’re given a moment of respite, gasping. 

“oliver-“ you try, but he’s back on you instantly, slipping his tongue in, while some drool runs from your mouth. he tugs at the waistband of your shorts, before sliding them off.

his fingers ghost your clothed pussy, groaning when he feels the wet patch on your undies. he leaves your mouth to leave sloppy, wet kisses across your cheek before he’s growling in your ear, “you’re always soaked when i’m around, aren’t you?” 

you whine out a needy and breathless, “mhm,” mind already hazy and resistance long gone. you tug at his shirt and he gives a light laugh, that makes your heart ache, before pulling it off. 

“your turn.” he says and you scramble to take yours off. “god, you’re so pretty.” he hums, hand trailing through the valley of your breasts, making you tremble. you burn under his hungry gaze, trying to look away, but he catches you. your chin caught between the pad of his thumb and pointer finger, “eyes on me.” 

you watch as he takes your panties off next, another hum of approval from him when he sees your glistening folds. he was right, you were soaked and eager, your body reacting to every touch or word he gives.

you hate oliver aiku. you hate how he makes you burn with the desire, how every touch of his hand across the expanse of your skin has you whimpering. you hate that he always knows what to say to keep you wrapped around his finger, his words keeping you collared to him. 

but god do you love the stretch of his thick cock as it slides into your dripping cunt, mewling as he sinks down, inch by inch. he grits his teeth as he bottoms out, stilling a bit to let you adjust, before he’s driving into you like he hasn’t seen you in years. 

sometimes, you think you were made for him. the way no other fling ever brings you as high as oliver does. his cock hits all the right places, your face contorted in pleasure as the slap! of skin against skin reverberates within the room. or maybe, you think like that because he tells you that. “fuck baby,” he hisses, “ah, you were fucking made for me, shit.” 

oliver knows you like the palm of his hand. he knows when you want him to talk to you sweetly. he knows when you want him to growl obscenities in your ear. but most of all, he knows you always want him to fuck you stupid. 

your whines are like music to his ears, as he thrusts into you, heavy balls against your ass. your head falls back against the pillow, eyes closing as you let the pleasure wash over you. but oliver tsks, hooking his thumb into your mouth and jerking it downward. your eyes fly open as he grunts, “i said, eyes on me.” 

“s-sorry,” you whimper, trying to maintain eye contact with him, “ah, fuck!” but you just can’t, each thrust against your sweet spot has your eyes rolling back. you feel his hand on the back of your head, making sure you can’t throw it back, he wants to see it all, every fucked out expression you’ll give him. 

it’s part of his ego to see you come undone on him. he loves that such a pretty thing like you lets him ruin you. in fact he craves it so much that he’s basically stopped sleeping around with others. he thinks you’re the cutest thing to cream on his cock, especially when you paw and whine that “ts too much!” 

unfortunately for him, he’s not gonna be able to hold back this time. the noises you’re making are too pretty and the clench of your pussy feels too good. he’s sure this is the closest to love he’s ever gotten. 

“‘m gonna,” you gasp, glassy eyes gazing up into his, “oliver, i’m-“ 

“i know, baby,” he coos, “you’re, ah, gonna cum right? cum for me, yeah?” 

it’s embarrassing how quickly you do, the legs wrapped around him trembling as you clench down on his cock, vision blurring. 

“that’s it,” he praises, fucking you through your high, “good fuckin’ girl.” and it’s not long til he’s coming undone too, groaning as he fills your pussy up, painting it in hot white ropes. 

he pulls you in and you squeak, before he’s pressing a deep kiss into your lips. it’s the first time he’s done this and you’re caught off guard by the intimacy. but you don’t fight it, closing your eyes as he gives you kiss after kiss. 

“let me stay the night.” he says in between kisses and you pull away, pushing his face back with your hand. you blink at him, perplexed. did he get hit in the head? not only has he not pulled out, but he’s even asking to stay the night? 

“… who are you and what have you done with oliver aiku?” but he laughs at your confused expression. 

“c’mon, i drove all the way here princess.” he teases and you tilt your head, brow furrowed. it’s annoying, as if you’ve never done that for him before. he’s not sure you notice the way that turns him on, but the blood’s already started rushing to his once softening cock. 

you do notice and you frown, “you just wanna fuck me again.” 

“what’s so wrong with that?” he asks and you groan, pushing him off hard enough that he slips out of you. you roll over, curling up into your side, feeling his seed drip onto the sheets. 

“ugh, just go away oliver. i need to take a shower.” you feel stupid, dumb, and a little used but you refuse to cry in his presence, making a mental note that you really need to cut things off. but settles in next to you, throwing his arms over you and pulling you close. 

“that’s not the only reason,” he sighs and your heart flutters,  “besides, have i ever told you you’re my favorite?” 

“not funny.” you deadpan, it’s stupid but your heart does feel a little lighter. you feel his hands wander over your body and you curse yourself for being so weak, feeling his stubble brush against your skin before he presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“i just wanna spend some time with you, i missed you.” he murmurs, breath hot on your ear. your breath hitches as he finds your puffy clit, rubbing slow, sticky circles. 

“fine… but only because i love you.” you whimper as you spread your legs for him again, giving in for the nth time. you hate oliver aiku, but only because you’re so stupid in love with him. he knows, but he bites back the urge to say it back and let you know that you don't have to worry about it. you're not just his favorite, but his one and only.

“good girl.” he growls, before hooking a hand on the back of your knee, spreading you wider. maybe one day he’ll say it back. 

[mabaki]

SUITS SUITS SUITS SUITS

Pyrrhus ( @dion-iron ) & Rhywel Caira ( @floral-necromaniac ) & Mabaki Eselv & Pagi ( Hubs ) Maelgwyn ( @creativebrainrot ) & Lysyldur

I was lounging around, boring myself, until i had a sudden layout inspiration and just stayed up all night to draw this LMAO

[ihatebrainstorm]

A little sneak peak at my piece for the Reverse Big Bang event! >:)

Collaborated with @novafire-is-thinking on this so go have a gander at their tie-in fic "Elegant Chaos, Inelegant Solutions" once it comes out! :D Link to Nova’s fic preview: here

Event coordinators: @tf-bigbang

[iffasart]

(This was supposed to be for @campbenji JWCTcountdown: fav season/episode buuuut i made the sketch and forgot about it :,/ )

"I don't care what's out there! I'm saving her."

Fav episode is "The long run", Its SO WELL WRITTEN AND ANIMATED AND YASAMMY

(Close-ups under the cut!!)

[silvysartfulness]

Chapter 59 - This City Dappled With Colour of Heaven Has A Road But No One Walks It is up! :D

You saying you'd kill for me Daozhang..? Xue Yang had asked as they stood among a mountain of slain fierce corpses, bloodied, bruised, breathless.

May I never have to, he’d answered – knowing then, as he did now, that if it was that or losing Xue Yang forever, the answer could only be yes.

The moment the door closed behind them, Xiao Xingchen lurched forward and caught Xue Yang in his arms, crushing him close. He made a startled sound, then laughed and hugged him back.

Here, still here.

Just a day ago, Xiao Xingchen had woken with a path ahead both clear and comfortably distant – journey to Gusu and meet with the Chief Cultivator to ask for his collaboration in realizing their lofty dream.

And only a few hours later, as if laughing at him, the universe sent the Chief Cultivator right into their path long before they were ready, offering boons with one hand and condemnation with the other, an impossible price to pay.

Xiao Xingchen held Xue Yang closer, breathing him, holding back tears.

——

They're doing fine. 🙂

I've been sick a lot this summer, even ended up in hospital for a bit (I'm doing better now!) so the writing has been far slower than I'd hoped. But slowly, steadily we're moving forward!

I want to thank you all so much for giving me comments on the last chapter for my birthday, what a wondrous treat that was! Thank you, thank you! It meant so much!

Whenever my motivation falters, I go back and read your words of encouragement, and press on. I couldn't do this without you. 💚

[supd00dle]

Hello! I just wanna say a couple of things

LOVE LOVE LOVE your art style and Organic M Sonic AU. I always have a big dumb grin seeing your art on my timeline and I wish you the best of health, yummy snacks, vibes and all good things heading your way! 💞💞💞 Truly incredible

I have been snooping on your site ( im embarrassed to say every day lol ) and I noticed some old art of what looks like organic Metal Knuckles? Will you do anything thing with him and Tails doll in the future?

3. Also what are your thoughts on Android Shadow from Heroes/SHTH, Hard Boiled Heavies from Mania and Fang MK2 from superstars? Since they are in the eggman robot family ( ? )

Anyway I hope you have a fantastic day and keep up the good work! :) 🎉🌟

Here's a 2 min doodle as a gift! Sorry my drawings are chicken scratch lol

I have a couple of things I wanna say to you too.

1. Thank you so much for your kind words and support!! I'm happy to hear you feel that way about my work! 💕 I wish you the very best and I hope you have a good day or a good night! ✨

2. "Organic" Metal Knuckles was just a concept.. nothing much to it as I was only focusing on Metal. BUT!!! As I'm developing new ideas and other stuff. I'm rethinking of a new design for both Metal Knuckles and Tails (doll) in the future!!!

3. Android Shadow is pretty cool. Piss man yellow man. I know there's more colors than yellow but that one is my favorite.

I never got to finish Mania but I love the Hard Boiled Heavies from their awesome colorful design. I actually drew Heavy King not too long ago...

Unfortunately, I haven't played Superstars yet but, holy shit?? BIG FANG MECHA ROBOT??

Anyways, Thank you so much for your support and the AWESOME DOODLE!! I LOVE IT!

[nexternalknowsthingz]

The sketch is done!!! 🩵🩵

[collectorsinn]

Today. Kaeya's confident he's confessing to you today.

He has been saying this for a week, internally, and the idea of confessing and a relationship had been on his mind for a month or two; there had been factors prolonging his step to confession — whether it'd be a sudden conversation switch or someone's intervention.

He's usually been smooth with conversations, but when it comes to confessions with long-term consequences, he finds it hard not to run away from it (like an instinct, or a fight-or-flight reaction, in which he chooses flight).

He's been picturing your reactions: from acceptance, to rejection.

Despite having confidence in his natural charisma and charm, he can't help but imagine being rejected — its aftermath of a bone-chilling awkwardness between you two which forms a gulf he wouid have to actively patch up. It's been haunting his mind, and he's decided the best way to deal with it is to confess.

"Good-morning, (Y/N)."

"Captain Kaeya, good-morning."

"There's something I have to speak with you about, personal matters."

"What is it Captai-"

"Captain Kaeya, good-mornin'!" one of the aunties said, passing by the stalls with a basket in her hands — seemingly shopping for fresh fruit.

Kaeya feels his eyes soften, somehow this always happens and it's slowly becoming a mystery to him as to why. "Good-morning, Ms. Joels!"

Ms. Joels waves for a bit before returning back to shopping along the stalls. Kaeya feels his tense shoulders unwittingly relax — he's used to it at this point, and truthfully speaking, he was a bit relieved.

"Captain Kaeya."

"Ah, yes (Y/N)?"

"I like you."

He feels his eyes widen.

"I'm sorry, pardon?"

"I like you, Kaeya."

You were met with silence. He blinks at you for a good minute before a smirk formed on his lips.

"Ohoho~ I see you've taken a liking to me too. Who knew you would've beaten me to a confession! I suppose this ought to start a path into our more intimate relationship?"

You stare at him in silence, you suppose he has accepted your confession? And also, you've beaten him to a confession? You feel yourself breathe a sigh of relief, one that falls on deaf ears — for Kaeya could only hear the sound of his beating heart.

It's unbearably loud, and oddly quick. He could feel it vibrate through his whole being. Though he had quickly composed himself, his heart wasn't one to lie.

"Let's meet again tonight, I have a few tasks to attend to." He looks at the sky, the sun had risen bright and high, before his gaze lands back onto you. "See you soon, (Y/N)."

He flashed you a smile before walking back toward the Favonious Headquarters. It was then you saw he had dropped a pen that sat on, you guess, his fist?

You call out his name, grabbing the pen off the floor and retrieving it, bringing it back to its original owner. "Kaeya!"

He isn't answering you, in fact, he's walking forward, seemingly walking faster — rushing toward the headquarters. He has been doing this for a while. He meets with you and talks to you for a bit before rushing back to his workplace.

Its to wonder why he bothers. He's always walking increasingly faster, and dodges all your questions.

"Kaeya!" You finally caught up to him,and it seems he has finally gained back consciousness! "You dropped your pen..."

You feel your words trail off as you looked at Kaeya's face.

His widened gaze wanders from his hands to yours, and his furrowed brows are pressed tightly together. His jaw slacked as his cheeks were airbrushed with a tint of rosy pink. His hands, pulling away from his face, hangs loosely in the air — stunned.

"Let's meet tonight. See you later, (Y/N)!" he grabs the pen off of your hands and speed-walks toward the stairs, flustered and a little stunned.

[outofcontextdanandphil]

Why Dan went to the hospital - Out of context

[dustteller]

The maybe-sorta-not-really-almost blowjob scene, because I don't think I've drawn them together before and this is probably the best place to start.

(Tumblr ate my quality :( pls click to rescue it)

[causeimanartist]

It's my 9 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

-

First drawing on this blog versus most recent - time sure has flown by! Thanks for 9 years of shenanigans

[ms-scarletwings]

This Single Oversight Will Bring Irken-Kind to Its Knees

I have a little riddle for you.

What does an ant nest, a computer, and the ancient city of Troy have in common?

While you ponder the significance of this question and consider your answer, there’s a few things I want to analyze about the worldbuilding of Invader Zim.

We may have heard it said before, least I have (and agree), that the fate of the IZ universe appears to be a rather bleak picture.

Through our lens of focus, being upon Earth and an oh-so specific nutball waging his battle upon humanity, we often don’t do as much thinking about the larger cosmic war taking place meanwhile. Not between the Meekrob and Tenn, not between the Tallest and every dumb luck threat they are thrown against, but between the Irken Armada and all life in the entire universe, sentient or not.

Their intentions will not be made any more clear, between outright eradication or eventual enslavement of every lifeform they set their sights on. While they have alliances and neutral treaties, those agreements seem few and far between, as well as born from temporary conveniences. The cards have already been dealt, and all available evidence has indicated that every planet they are aware of is doomed from the moment The Massive was operational.

Though littered with inefficiencies and incompetency that could suggest an empire in internal decline, the development of the control brains and other centralized command crutches of the species suggests the Irkens can still keep a well oiled machine running, no matter how many mishaps happen along the way. At least, that machine and their plundered resources will definitely outlast the survival of their enemies, for sure.

To speak of their enemies, there has not been a single competitive race within the show that demonstrates any credible threat to Operation Impending Doom II- only those that can resist the conquest a little bit longer than others, or those who survive by appeasing Irk (or evading its detection). The fall of Vort, which stood as the homeworld of the only aliens with the technological ability to match the armada’s firepower is…. Really bad news. That’s to say the least of comparatively primitive, TINY planets like Earth or Blorch, standing zero chance in the way of what’s eventually coming. This is a war that has continued despite the death of two.. FOUR Almighty Tallests if you follow the movie’s events… and Irkens wholly are still thriving for it across the Galaxy.

So, given all of these facts, and the perception that the Irkens (like any invasive species or colonial force) don’t seem to be a society that will make responsible and/or sustainable use of their ill-gotten territory… it seems like this is how life across the universe ends in Invader Zim one day: Not with a bang, not with the whimper of heat death, but through screams muffled under the bloody boots of a dominant predator- a predator that is, itself, doomed to cannibalize its own once it hits the carrying capacity of all existence.

Bleak, concrete, and horrific as that may sound, there’s still a “however” here to consider!

Yep, that’s me about to point one of my big fat fingers to the sky and protest- Irk just might be,

Not so Undefeatable, after all!

And not only have I figured out exactly what sort of countermeasure you need to destroy these invaders, I have reason to suspect it’s a plan already long ago set into motion.

Let’s break it down,

An Irksome Achilles’ Heel

True, individually, the bug bastards are irritatingly tough to kill through conventional means. True, collectively, they are nigh impossible to outmatch. And more than most anything else, they owe this tenacity to two things: numbers, and R&D. Possessing some of most state of the art pinnacles in transportation, communications, and military equipment, the Armada found a knack for being able to steamroll most lesser planets before it.

The genius of the individual PAK unit grants each and any one Irken a theoretical path to partial immortality itself, by route of consciousness archiving. I strongly believe that kind of cybernetic progress was also one of the stepping stones that led to the creation of the Control Brains. Nonetheless, this very same strength of the Irkens’ has also proven to be the source of their greatest vulnerability.

Paks, Paks… Oh Paks. The entire race’s civilization revolves around such technology the way we do around our own brains, our own hearts, and our communicative network. For all intents and purposes, and as I’ve gone on about ad nauseum in my other spills about the show, a PAK is all and at once

• Synonymous with the holder of their soul, consciousness, being, whatever you want to call their personhood.

• Able to have their data repurposed by future generations, in the result of an Irken’s permanent death.

• A universal necessity shared by the entire population.

• Susceptible to alterations, sometimes by intelligent enough individuals (as demonstrated by the Zimvoid comic arc), but usually by a Control Brain, directly.

In addition to that last quality, there’s another way the code in a PAK can be changed, for better or worse- Via evolution. Though I am talking about digitized neurology, the actual data in a PAK is a lot more comparable to biological DNA or a “self-learning” AI than it is a rigid computer program. By this, I mean that its code is subject to certain changes over time, perhaps both directed and completely random, particularly during the recycling of its information back into the Smeeteries.

And this is actually good design on the control brains’ part, the same way not reproducing Irkens as genetically identical clones was. Genetic and digital diversity are desirable goals to keep in mind if you want a healthy and versatile stock of workers, engineers, soldiers, and everything in between. We’re talking about highly sentient, highly intelligent, and emotional organisms here. A static drone mindset is going to offer them inadequate ability to adapt to their lengthy life experiences or be unique persons. How else would social mobility have purpose in their world? How else could the cream of the crop rise so far above their peers? That positive was deemed worthy of an obvious risk, however: computational errors.

When the Bugs Get Bugs

 IZ does not clearly lay out what it means for an Irken to be defective, but it gives us a general idea. Defectiveness is not something diagnosed from a code scan for this missing value or that incorrect variable. It’s not judged by one specific character trait or quality that’s abnormal for an Irken to display. “Defective” is a judgement stamp, wielded by the Control Brains when they gauge the total sum value of a life’s contribution to the species. And it’s not one given to Irkens which are merely incompetent, no. Anyone proven to be unfit for their standing is given generous opportunity for redemption or simply reassigned a more suitable occupation. If it were based on likability, we’d have seen Skoodge sent to Judgementia years ago.

Rather, it’s given to those who are viewed as so twisted that they are proven to be an existential danger to their brethren. Irkens that are so destructive to the essence of the collective that their memory must be purged from the record and their identity erased.

I adore the enthusiasm behind fans who want to view this as an analogy for disability or neurodivergence against a conformist society, but the metaphor I’m seeing is one of extreme antisocial behavior. A defective Irken screams less “adhd/autism” to me than they do serial murderers (of their own) or outright traitors. Pardon the use of a gross phrase, but it’d seem we were talking about an Irken equivalent of what the outdated gens would have dubbed the “criminally insane”. No one on screen has ever shown Skoodge or Tak the sort of concern that would get them sent to the Spike of Judgement, but when Zim was in that hot seat? NO one was doubting what his verdict would be.

^ courtesy of “The Trial’s” transcript

I think about the 40 shmillion mistakes a lot.

It’s such a vague quantity. But it sure sounds like a hell of a big one. And what mistakes… what did the lil squirt even have to compare them to? There’s no standard one person an Irken can be. Every presentation of the flaws in that code to the control brains hasn’t ended up a flaw to him.

I only started writing this because I really couldn’t stop thinking about the 40 shmillion. There’s no chronological room for bad self-modding to add up to that so quickly.  DNA replication, nature’s own sloppy and random process of creating new life, can be excused around 120,000 hiccups when duplicating with a 6 billion pair-long protein. But this kind of shuffling is under a futuristic AI’s precise eye. Yes, defects happen, but as bad as him? From birth??? How could you possibly get that many detrimental deviations from the mechanical fucking god-queen(s) of their entire homeworld?

And then it hit me.

You don’t. Not from Irk.

The hot take I’ve been charging for this entire time is thus.

Zim is not defective by any random accident. In fact, I smell the tampering of foreign sabotage.

Not only is this guy the thing his kind fears more than any else, they have every right to be shaking in their stance.

That puzzle i posed at the beginning of this journey, have you seen what I’ve seen yet?

Because the answer I was looking for as to what similarity connects an anthill, a PC, and a city from Greek legend was a most effective tactic for taking them down.

Do you know the best way to deal with a bad ant infestation? Cuz you can lay down all the raid and crushing action you want, but you won’t really be getting anywhere unless you target the pests directly at their queen. To that end, liquid ant baits are marvelous inventions- a sweet substance hiding a small amount of slow acting poison. Poison to be peacefully delivered by the stomach of an ant to the rest of her colony, poisoning her kin, who sicken more members, on and on until the queen is destroyed and the entire nest perishes. An insidious toxin to do all the work while its user never lifts a finger, pretty ingenious.

And when it comes to computers, we also have ways to attack entire networks at source, from quietly and far away. “Trojan” was a category of malware responsible for 64.31% of all cyber attacks on Windows systems in 2022, and they still make up a majority of active malware hits today. The concept is deviously simple. The malicious code is hidden within an innocent looking program, maybe even within a legitimate software that does what it’s supposed to. Once the stowaway is invited into the system, it can get down to it some sneaky, nasty, destructive work on your device. As for what those acts could look like, well, malware exists to do all kinds of things. Mostly something involving trying to get money/information from you or hijacking your computer for whatever its creator wants to use it for. And some of them will just up and wreck your shit, disable your antivirus software to open you up to more infections, disable important operations, wipe your data. Use your imagination.

And as for Troy.. well, where do you think Trojan programs got their name? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So, Irkens have their Armada, bionic drones, and homeworld- in other words, the thriving swarm of army ants, the billions to trillions of computers they so rely on, and their nigh untouchable fortress, always at war.

And some damn crafty bastard(s) in the stars said

“Here is their sugar-bait,”

“Here is their cyber attack,”

“Here is their wooden horse.”

And one particular race is going to be getting the last laugh before long.

Nerds That Are GOATed With the Sauce

That’s right, I thought about this all the way through to finding our prime suspect. And let me tell you, NO ONE in the Galaxy reeked of fish like the Vortians did. Get over here and lemme show you my whiteboard with all the red circles and polaroids on it.

- The Means

In a way of tragic irony, Vort has contributed more than any else to the same Irken conquest that turned on them in the end. A natural talent for cutting edge engineering and technical development actually does not seem to be what Irk already came into the ring with. For how mighty and superior they view themselves, the greatest achievements of their military can actually be owed to Vortian outsourcing. When we would have gotten a look at Tallest Miyuki’s very own “finest minds” during her reign, notice something interesting about these guys below,

Zim there is the ONLY Irken to be found! Yes, transferred there because of the punchline explanation of ‘he breaks everything he touches so maybe he’ll have an affinity for weapons research’ but damn right he actually did! And still does; I don’t want it to go unsaid that Zim has shown MUCH more technological skill and innovation than near any other Irken we’ve seen.

Another fun thing to note about this is that Lard Nar was also part of this lineup, and in the transcript he was in the process of working on the blueprints for The Massive. (which leaves you with the cursed knowledge that Zim, Prisoner 777, and Lard were all familiar coworkers long before the events of the show) And that brings me back to what I’m saying about the real reason the Vort natives were enslaved and imprisoned instead of outright sweeped after conquering. The Armada needs their skills, because Vortian advancement is something their own scientists couldn’t come close to. Left to their own devices, Vort could have easily outmatched them at an earlier point in history. It’s a people that figured out infinite power sources and potentially wormhole technology, while PAKs were something a disfigured human tween with a lot of time on his hands was able to crack. If anyone could outpace and outsmart the defensive measures of the Control Brains, it’s going to be them. And what better, cleaner way to sabotage the enemy than from within. 

The very same strings of inserted code that cursed Zim with his delusions, paranoia, lust for destruction, and horrible tactics may also have blessed him with a determination and intellect higher than almost any creature alive. The saboteur gave Irk the most powerful racecar in history, and then fitted it with bicycle brakes. No matter how hard Zim tries to conform to what will give him admiration, no matter how competent he is at keeping himself alive, it’s as if he is instinctually compelled toward whatever actions will cause the MOST damage to his allies in the process. Dib may think he’s the bulwark against the invasion when, ironically, he’s fighting against the one being that’s predetermined to be the arrow that strikes Irken leadership right in their dumb, green heels. (There is also an instance in the comics where Dib figures out that Zim is the ace in the hole for total Irken eradication but that’s another fun story.)

Oh, oh HO HO, and that’s only what he’s capable of doing before the empire’s actual immune system against defects like him wakes up and notices!

Three planetary blackouts, two dead generals, and a whole swath of dead invaders was just the fucking warm up, babey! All that is merely the kind of loud disruption that you need in order to fulfil the real thing this Trojan horse exists for in the first place.

What a celebration of hubris the Spike of Judgement was. Yeah, let’s take our method of filtering the corrupted data from the hive mind, and completely centralize it on a single planet! As well, let’s have the very purging agents also be the same ones to perform the evaluations themselves, I’m sure that it would be unthinkable for any outsider to design a worm that could make it through the brains’ firewalls. Goddamn spectacular. Like inserting an infected USB into your laptop, the Tallest never realized what kind of beast they woke up by plugging that PAK into the Spike’s mainframes. Those brains were meant to handle an expected spectrum of deviation when it came to defective Irkens, never a sleeper virus of this complexity.

From here it probably won’t even matter if Zim survives much longer on Earth, his virus has already spread to the very thing relied upon to keep things like him out of the data pool in the first place. With the Judgementia brains corrupted and no higher authority to overrule them, the firewall is effectively broken, and you know what that means? Bigger cracks for future defectives to start trickling through, both spontaneous and artificial. The ideal scenario is one where a degenerating and glitched population accelerates the incompetency of the empire to the point where it just implodes on itself; nevertheless, even a disease that only slows down Operation Doom could be a game changer, by giving the rest of the little guys more time to band together a coalition strong enough to strike back when the time is right.

- The Motive

The history of these two races’ alliance is something I lament us not having more lore to pull from- how far back it goes, what the character of the Vort was like during that time, what the Irkens had offered in return- a few among dozens of questions it rears.  The implication behind how it ended lies in Zim’s creation that slayed Tallest Miyuki. Interestingly, the Empire never received the memo of what exactly went down, or, perhaps, stubbornly denied the account of the other scientists who were there that day. Neither Red/Purple nor the Judgmentia Brains had any idea that Zim’s actions led to the death of a Tallest. So, makes sense that the Vortians became the unintentional scapegoat (no pun intended) for the incident, and the rest is history.

Note: It’s also in the realm of possibility that Vort was actually the one to withdraw from the alliance instead, given that the same blob that devoured Miyuki (purely the fault of their Irken transfer) also went on to cause untold amounts of devastation. Red’s reaction to the real story stuck out to me as more telling, although.

But why am I even talking about this? Zim was decades old before war was declared on them, and either people’s regard to each other seemed strangely… respectful, if anything.

But, was Vort really a monolithic bunch? Irk was already an empire by this point, and diplomacy with those they needed something from did not mean they weren’t otherwise an aggressive force in the universe. For all we know, the alliance itself might have been coerced, or result of depraved leadership among the Vortians.  Any citizen with a conscience who could see the writing on the walls would be disgusted by giving so much aid and brown nosing to such a menace, no? I know who would have seen that writing before anyone else. Brainiacs who are smart enough to build something like The Massive and all its bells and whistles would know better than anyone just what it was all capable of in the wrong hands. The collateral damage against your own people might be a sacrifice worth making in the face of the alternative.

- The Oppurtunity

So.. that’s all well and good, yeah? A why, and a what, yet this is actually the tricky part of saving the galaxy,

Sneaking your StupidifyIrk.exe file onto the assholes’ homeworld without alerting either them or your own treacherous, weak, collaborator superiors to your actions. Infecting and releasing a random Irken alive would be far too dangerous, far too noticeable to the point where they could just be destroyed outright before given a chance to wreak real havoc.

But what about releasing a dead Irken? 🤔

PAKs are only screened for criminal flaws when errors begin to affect their body’s behaviors in destructive ways. A fully competent scientist, or soldier, or navigator performing a lifetime of loyal service to the empire and then meeting an unfortunate end? Their minds’ shadows can be accepted back into the data pool no questions asked. That’s only business as usual.

That almost makes new smeets something of a reincarnation of their ancestors. Personally, I see it kind of like replaying a video game and re-rolling your stats, even if you’re reusing your character’s name and general play style.

Either way, we come full circle to my theory about Zim’s actual origin. Maybe not “our” Zim, but the previous iteration of data that was shuffled to create his person. Whoever they were, I’m convinced that they were also an exceptional individual. They were probably pretty arrogant, but it was a more earned confidence, and they were a prodigy genius, the likes of which that was drawn to work alongside Vortian allies, as another researcher. Then, an untimely demise befell them. I couldn’t say they fell victim to some unfortunate accident, considering the cockroach durability of their body. No, I find it a lot easier to imagine they met their end in one of the more embarrassing ways for an Irken to die- A PAK stolen, disabled or forcefully detached by an assailant they might have allowed a little closer than they should have. To the homeworld, it’s a small matter. One more PAK recovered by the natives of the friendly planet, brought back home to be repurposed by the smeeteries, right?

Well, that’s what one smartass might have been hoping for.

And they really were a clever cookie, because that scheming seed is fruiting beautifully.

[anonymousbeefriendfanfics]

Hello and welcome to another installment of mossy being horny on main. Tonights programme? Gimmeee. The reactions of Zoya,maybe Shalom and your boy Lyney at the sight of their s/o dressed in an oversized band tshirt and an oversized band tshirt

:3

Note: This is supposed to say "an oversized band tshirt and nothing underneath" ;)

Fandoms: Path to Nowhere, Genshin Impact Characters: Zoya (PtN), Shalom (PtN), Lyney (GI) Warnings: NSFW, Minors beware! Slight Spoilers for Shalom's story. Mentions of: pegging, slight choking, Domme Zoya, teasing, oral (gn), penetration (gn), semi-submissive Lyney,

Zoya

Oh boy. Ohhhhh boy.

Instant turn on. She drops whatever she's doing - literally, if necessary, she doesn't care what breaks so long as she gets to break you.

For a long moment, she just stares. Appreciates the way the oversized shirt falls just past the curve of your ass, how something so baggy somehow accentuates the shape of your body so nicely. It's practically lingerie, watching you wear something like that.

And if you just so happen to bend over within her line of sight, or reach for something off a high shelf and cause your shirt to ride up, revealing that there's nothing underneath... good lord, it's almost embarrassing how turned on she is.

She's sweeping you off your feet and carrying you to the nearest flat surface, be it the bed, couch, or even a chair or the dinner table. She is not a patient woman. She will have you, and she will have you now.

She leaves your side only long enough to fetch her strap-on, and then she's bending you over whatever object it is that she's chosen for today's session. Normally, she holds your hips while she does this, but today she grips the sides of your shirt, allowing it to choke you slightly - or more than slightly, if you're into that - as she gives it to you hard and rough, relishing in every little gasp and moan and cry that leaves your pretty mouth.

She's not gonna stop until you come at least three times, and then she's helping move your spent body into a sitting or lying position so you can give her some pleasure, too. If you're too drained to manage that, then she'll just get herself off to the sight of you looking like such a mess while you watch <3

Shalom

Oh my. When you walk in wearing that, she's practically drooling over you just from the first glimpse. Whatever she's busy with is immediately tomorrow's problem. It doesn't matter anymore. Nothing matters but you.

Shalom still isn't very used to her newfound emotions - much less being able to feel and show them freely - and lust is one of the ones she struggles with the most. The burning-hot desire she feels is all-consuming and difficult to keep contained.

She seems to glitch at first. You turn around after a while of innocently pretending to do something else, only to find her staring at you, her eyes dark with lust. You can't tell from the way she's sitting, but she's got her thighs squeezed together in a subconscious effort to relieve her growing need.

You pretend to knock a pen off a nearby table and bend to retrieve it, flaunting your bare skin, and that snaps her out of it. She's out of the chair in a flash, crossing the room with long strides accentuated by the steady click of her shoes on the tile floor. She's by your side in mere moments, just as you straighten up. The pen falls from your grasp as she pulls you close and kisses you, one of her hands sliding beneath your shirt and caressing your body.

"You don't know what you do to me when you dress like that, my dear," she whispers when you break away for air, her lips brushing yours before she kisses her way down your jaw to your collarbone.

She soon grows bored of just kissing you, however, and leads you back to the desk where she's been working. She shoves her paperwork to the side - incredibly uncharacteristic for Shalom, but it shows just how needy she is. And then she's pushing your shirt up to your hips and instructing you to sit on the desk.

When you obey her, she's pulling up her chair, pushing your legs apart as she begins to taste your thighs, slowly working her way up, closer and closer to where you need her touch the most. She takes her sweet time, but once she gives you what you want, ohh is it worth it. Her mouth is incredible, and she puts that quick tongue of hers to good use, teasing and edging you until you feel like you're going to lose your mind.

When she finally lets you go over the edge and you come on her tongue, it's one of the best orgasms you've ever experienced. Your fingernails dig into the underside of her desk so hard you leave permanent crescent-shaped marks there, and occasionally Shalom will run her fingertip across them and think of this. You really should wear that shirt more often.

Lyney

For Lyney, let's say that it's not an oversized band t-shirt you're wearing... no, you're wearing a long white button-up shirt. Ideally, it's one of his, perhaps even the one he was wearing yesterday. It still smells like him, which is an immediate turn on for you, but as for our dear magician...

He's oblivious at first. You'll walk in the kitchen and greet him, and he'll give you a good morning kiss and say whatever poetic thoughts pop into his mind first, and then he turns to get more coffee.

And then he freezes mid-stride, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head, processing everything. After several long seconds, he spins around, lavender eyes wide as they meet yours and then flick downwards, taking in your attire as his mouth goes dry.

It's incredibly attractive watching him get turned on. His eyes darken with lust, pupils dilating almost like a cat's, his breathing starts to get heavier, and that blush you adore so much begins to appear on his cheeks - soon it will spread to his ears and begin creeping down onto his chest, too.

"Oh-ho, what's this?" He asks, trying to salvage the situation, trying to pretend his brain hasn't been turned to mush with a single glance. You cheerfully reply that it's nothing much - well, that much is true, but only in a literal sense- and you turn to go about your day, intending to grab something off a bottom shelf just to give him a little peek beneath the shirt.

You don't get a chance, however. He's behind you as though by magic, his arms snaking around your waist as he hugs you tightly against his chest, and oh- he's already hard. "Ma cherie, just what do you- ahh-" You cut him off by wiggling your hips, rubbing against the growing bulge in his pants. He nuzzles his face against your neck, pressing feather-light kisses there, and you can feel his hot breath against your skin. "Not fair," he mumbles between kisses. "You know I can't think straight when you do that..."

He spins you around, taking another long look at you. You look incredible in just his shirt, and he can't resist you any longer - he's pushing you against the nearest wall, his mouth on your neck and hands all over your body. He mumbles praises against your skin, trying his best to still be suave and poetic even when all he can think about is you.

The makeout session lasts for as long as both of you can stand it, both of you quickly growing more and more needy. Soon Lyney is grinding against your hip, and you eventually have to push him off - he's so drunk on you that you know he'd keep going until he came in his pants without even realizing it, but you want more.

You lead him over to the nearest couch and he follows close behind you, eager to obey - and also to get another look at the way he can just barely glimpse your upper thighs beneath the shirt. His pants hit the floor almost immediately, and he breathes a sigh of relief at the freedom, then bites his lip to choke back a moan as you run your hand across his length.

He's pushed down into the couch, and he looks up at you with that delightful lustdrunk look you've come to anticipate. His face is flushed and he looks oh so eager as he reaches for you, gripping the front of the shirt and pulling you down to kiss him again.

You waste no time climbing into his lap and sinking down on him. He feels so good inside of you, but what you feel can't compare to what you see and hear - the low whine that escapes his throat, the way his head falls back momentarily as you sink lower until he's fully sheathed within you.

It's hot and passionate as the two of you get tangled up together, bodies pressed so close there's no space left between you. Despite his desperation, Lyney controls himself, doing everything within his power to make you feel good, to make you whine his name. You, on the other hand, want nothing more than to hear his voice hitch as he moans, and you don't stop until he's practically unable to string a sentence together without whimpering or moaning your name.

Once you finally go over the edge, the way you cry out his name, throbbing around him, he can't hold it back a second longer - he bites your shoulder as his orgasm washes over him, muffling the noises he makes as he nearly blacks out from the intense pleasure. When he comes down, he's trembling in your arms while you stroke his hair, telling him how incredible he is, and he's never felt better.

Writing Masterlist 🐝 Requests Open! Tag List 🐝 @mossmosis

[hurlingdown]

Simple question: why don’t you want to write for female reader’s? Is it a ick? Does it make you feel uncomfortable, or more general. Like, you can just write for men better. I will not judge, because I completely understand and will respect the answer. If you feel comfortable enough to answer. You don’t have to if you don’t want.

Btw; since you’re a god at writing, I love love love, love love love, love it. Like, it inspires me to write more alongside my other friends! I love all that you write and do. <333

- Saturn 🪐

it’s not an ick or anything, honestly i’ll be happy to write for dom female readers if they’ll have me. i’m mostly worried about making them uncomfortable. (if you’re a female reader and you’re seeing this... do let me know!!)

glad my work helps to inspire you btw, thank you for reaching out <3

[tokyoteddywolf]

Not me debating writing an Aventio fic based on a book I really loved... urgh-

I got Aven recently and just finished his arc in Penacony and I am incredibly bored! I wanna write while I have the energy...

Lemme know if I should :p

Basic premise is its based on a book called Written In Red, which I feel absolutely fits Aventurine??? Look at the book first, give it a read, and tell me the main character doesn't remind you of him. I will go feral.

Anyways if you don't, the premise of the book is that the main character, a blood prophet who is also a slave, escapes and runs away from captivity to a town in order to hide and live amongst sentient predators called "Others", basically ancient as fuck monsters that can swap between animal and human forms. Others actually do prey on humans, but it's modern times and they have a begrudging agreement to coexist with humans because they make decent stuff that the Others can't create. The main character ends up living among them and figures out herself, while also teaching the Others some new things. It's actually a nice book in my opinion.

I'd have to reread the book but yeah. That would be the very basic idea. I already have a character list of who is who lmao.

I wouldn't make it a carbon copy of the book though, not with the characters I have in mind, but it would be a similar plot at least. Consider giant wolf Ratio, everybody, that's all I'm giving you.

So...

EDIT: Holy crap that's like 50 people and it hasn't even been a day-

Here you go ya feral bastards jesus-

Warnings for gore, violence, blood, people get torn apart and eaten you have been warned. (Can only be viewed if you have an account)

Enjoy