#inspection Rewinder

[krishnaengineering25]

The rewinding inspection machine is applied in inspecting materials such as paper, film, textiles, and foil for defects.

[uflex]

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[cubffections]

( ꣑꣒ ) 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 — al haitham.

𑄸 ₊ ࣪ ㅤ cw. nsfw ( 18 + ) afab, sub! reader. oral. face siting. mirror sex. angry sex ? occ ? ? alhaitham , mentions of death, implied fwb, song and world building credits to VIVINOS ! ♥︎ wk. 2k

the bangs of drums erupted through the stadium, opening a solemn melody that soon intertwined with the strums of a guitar and the keys of a piano. a pair of pet-humans ascended to the stage, one’s face frightened as the other stood unfazed. his gray hair hiding his closed eyes while his hands slid up the mic’s stand slowly. once his hands caressed the white microphone, his dull green eyes revealed themselves looking as solemn as the song.

The soggy darkness crouched down ..

Even if we shake our heads, it's always the same place.

unlike his peers, al haitham was forced to understand the truth about this world immediately. then again, dangling off the edge of a skyscraper from the hands of one of his guardian’s butler wasn't an ideal situation for a child anyway. his mind vividly reminds him at times, the wails of the other children who stood behind him, the cold gaze of the beastly alien, and the starry black sky that looked as if it was painted by the great anakt’s hand itself.

it was terrifying— yes, but over time he couldn't help looking back and being thankful for that stunt, for it had become his muse as much as it was his reminder.

soon after he had become his guardian’s prized possession. gifts, trinkets, secrets, he had them all. they were all fundamental for the endless experiments to groom him into the perfect pet-human, at the cost of never festering a personality of his own. it being important that al haitham’s only desire should be achieving greatness by winning alien stage for his beloved guardian.

so even if he knows what it means to be exhausted, he still wouldn't admit it. for he doesn't remember being taught to be so.

i can't reach you, so i imagine alone

you who shines, i stand next to you.

“people will come and go inside this garden. they’ll smile as much as they cry, just as much as they’ll laugh as much as they whine. watch them. find what makes them weak, and you will stand on top.”

the echo of his guardian’s teachings rewinded in his head as he observed his fellow classmates, all making friendships and rehearsing the songs with flowers in their hair. he inwardly grimaced seeing the truth in his words, a sour taste on his tongue as he watched everyone pass by burying his face back into the book he had took from the school’s library.

time passed slowly as he reread the same page over and over, 44 times to be exact. it was when he started the 45th loop that one of those frail flower crowns delicately descended on top of his head. it wasn't the weightless touch of the petals that woke him from the loop, but your mellifluous voice who wished to retrieve it.

so black, black as it can be.

the dark sea gets deeper as you approach, like a black, black sorrow. a story of such woe.

his eyes look toward you in the crowd, your eyes no longer have the same twinkle it had all those years ago. in fact— they seem to resemble his more now that you know the truth of your role. how saddening, the garden’s sunshine is on the verge of it’s supernova.

“at the end of this story, there's only a cold spot stained with blood and empty air.” al haitham sang, his eyes unmoving. he watched your worried gaze as he counted the whole measure of the instrumental. his traitorous mind already reminiscing the moment the two of you shared before the performance. a rendezvous between the two people no one would expect.

“you’re back.” the ash haired spoke through the crack of his room’s door, inspecting the obvious fake smile that you wore on your lips. “what happened? let me guess, dreams of hi—

your hands pressed against his lips, your eyes downcast as you shook your head. ah— that was too straightforward, let him try again. “i haven't heard from you since last time.” he corrected against your fingertips, gently grabbing your wrists to free himself and lead you inside.

“things came up.. i didn't know how to reach out.” you sighed, footsteps were soft as you made your way to sit on his bed. a small silence fell as he watched you from the door, noting the dainty black dress that you showed up in. a similar sigh fell from his lips, knowing what this was going to lead into.

where your eyes reach, where your fingertips brush, waiting for you endlessly.

turn the red light hourglass inside the black darkness—

“things always seem to come up with you.” al haitham spoke, turning his feet as he walked up in between your legs, looking down at your small figure. “it’s like you think i’m as naive as you darling.” his harsh words being sugarcoated by his gentle voice, not that he was trying to soften the blow. “what could've come up? polishing an unnamed grave? you and i both know that his body is still laying on that stage.”

your breath shook as you gripped his bottoms, “you speak as if i’m not allowed to grieve! i killed him, you know?!” you cried out hoarsely, balling your fist. “if i wasn't so naive and stupid he would be– we would be–”

“still separated.” al haitham finished, soon squatting down to level at your face. his emerald green eyes never seem to twinkle like they should’ve, instead they voraciously devoured the twinkle of others. “whether you knew or not, he would've got on that stage and died the same, for you.”

a choked sob escaped you, something that had become routine when the two of you spoke about this. his expression unfazed while his heart ached for you. but .. he wouldn't just pamper you— this feeling he had for you wanted to crush you to bits as much as he wanted to spoil you.

his fingers pushed you against the bed while you scrambled to rub your glossy cheeks as he climbed above you, looking up at him with venomous eyes. “apologize.”

al haitham tilted his head. “for telling the truth?”

your glare darkened as he caressed your cheeks in a firm hold, a knowing smirk on his lips as he pressed his forehead against yours. “fine fine, i’ll apologize… that’s why you're here anyway.” he sneered, before pressing a heated kiss on your lips. his tongue meeting yours passionately as his fingers tugged and untightened his tie when yours pawed at his shirt.

spending a long time with you.

your clothes were scattered around the floor as you dragged your soaked cunt against his nose, your hips not seeming to find a rhythm or pattern. “h..help me haithy.. please..!” you cried out, hands restricted with his black tie. it was a good look on you, he admits, it’d be even more perfect if he had something to blindfold you. fortunately, he believes forcing you to watch yourself wither at his touch from the mirror is good enough.

al haitham pressed his nose deeper into your clit, as his tongue plunged itself ruthlessly against your folds. his large hands circled your thighs and fixed your rhythm without a fuss, letting his tongue penetrate inside of you ruthlessly. your whines were immediately replaced with moans and broken whimpers, rutting yourself against him with nothing but your satisfaction in mind.

he wanted to laugh. what a toxic pair the two of you became, were you really the same person who gifted him that crown of daisies all those years ago? those same daisies you never noticed that he’d pressed into his most treasured bookmark, laying on the vanity table of the mirror you watched yourself in.

your body shook and progressively tensed against his touch, a hurt gasp leaving you as he lifted you from his face. “you're gonna kill me before the aliens have a chance to, baby. what a needy cunt you have.” he huffed, his eyes rolling at babbling whines that you let out before pressing you against his bulge– effectively shutting you up.

“what ar– haah?! ” you attempted to question, an adorable confused look present on your face as you watched him hook your tied hands over his head and grinded his erection into your bare cunt. “i’m not fucking you tonight.” al haitham spoke, hooking his thumb to your bottom lip, smearing your drool and lipgloss against it, messily. “raise your little boyfriend from the dead if you want dick.”

tears fell from your face while you whimpered and sniffled as he fucked you through his black slacks, grinding you down continuously his dick. he admired you with flushed cheeks and heavy breaths, a twinkle gleaming in his eyes unbeknownst to him. al haitham kissed upon your neck fondly, apologizing silently as you rode him till the sun had fallen. welcoming the night with you laying against his chest teary eyed and fast asleep, leaving him at the mercy of his own mind.

so black, black as it can be.

the dark sea gets deeper as you approach, like a black, black sorrow. a story of such woe.

alhaitham hadn't spared a glance at his competition this entire time. his eyes far, far away in the dark sea he couldn't reach, that dark sea of stars that had greeted him on that disquieting night had made it’s return once more. and all he could find himself wondering during his performance if it had come to finally swallow him full.

he allowed to backtrack to sing his next line as he looked back at you again, his hand unconsciously pointed towards you in the audience. granting permission the swell of emotions he stored away to be at full display while his voice cracked as if tears had finally graced his empty eyes, pouring everything into these last words.

to me you are .. to me, you are black sorrow.

you are my black sorrow.

the song slowly faded into a close as a gunshot rang from the distance, killing the person who had stood next to him. a pity, he thought with dull eyes, gazing down at the lifeless body. any trace of freed emotions vanishing as the alien soldiers collared him once more.

ah .. he’s exhausted.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

OMG I’m so excited for this!!! Can I request Vil with the prompt rainy nights?? Can it be fluffy and romantic? Anyway I hope you have a wonderful day!! :)

Rainy Nights; Vil Schoenheit

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, established romantic relationship

Content Warning; Reader cries because of a movie, death (movie)

Word Count; 700+

Author's Note; I had a vision; watching old movies with Vil as the rain came down. I had a lot of fun writing this, and this is also my first solo Vil piece, so I hope I did him justice here.

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

You were rummaging around the TV console, going through the numerous DVDs and VHS tapes that were just sitting around and collecting dust. Tonight was your night for movie night, as yesterday was Vil’s, so you were weighing your options. Sure, there were streaming services, but there’s just something that hits differently with a physical copy, flaws and all. Plus it’s not like you could go out since it was raining like no tomorrow outside. So, movie night.

“Having any luck,” Vil gently called from the washroom, still doing his nightly routine.

Your eyes still scoured the various cases, trying to find the perfect one. “Not yet. Just give me a minute, m’kay?”

Vil gave you a hum as an answer, leaving you be.

Horror movie? No, he wouldn’t like that. Mystery? Too predictable… And then you found what looked like the most faded cases, colour worn away from age and a hand going back time and time again. That one.

Pulling it out, you dusted off the case, inspecting the title. Of the smudged-out words, you could make out The, some kind of smudged-out word, Blossom. It looked like a black-and-white movie, and on the front were the protagonists with their backs together, flower petals surrounding them, and a dagger above them. This, this is perfect.

Vil came out of the washroom, wearing his matching royal purple pyjamas and house robe, and glowing from the various skin products that he used. He looked curiously over your shoulder. “Hmm, The Bitter Blossom,” he mused, turning his gaze to you. “Is that your pick, Schatz?” His tone was light, a sign that he approved, and was mildly surprised at your pick.

“Mhm,” you hummed, placing the VHS tape into the VCR player. Whoever had played it last had saved you the trouble of rewinding it. “Have you watched it before?”

“Surprisingly, no. Copies of it are extremely hard to come by.” He got the sofa ready, adjusting the pillows, grabbing one of the many quilts, and a box of tissues, just in case. He noticed the look you were giving him, “I haven’t watched it, but I have heard about how it ends.”

You raised a brow, but shrugged. You pressed play and scrambled over to your spot next to Vil, getting comfy and pulling that handy quilt over the both of you — the rain had made it a little bit chilly.

The Bitter Blossom started playing. Not only was it in black-and-white, but it was also a silent film. The protagonists were two lovers who met by chance, their relationship going from cold strangers to a budding romance. 

But why had Vil grabbed the tissues? The movie was almost over, it couldn’t possibly—

But then the antagonist, a jealous ex of one of the main protagonists, stabbed the love interest in the back with a dagger. The movie ended with the protagonist hugging their love interest, flower blossoms falling down around them.

“Do not let the bitter blossom of hatred and vengeance bloom in your heart or mind, my love. Do not let it ruin the happiness which we fleetingly had.” The words flashed on the screen before the movie ended with the screen fading into black.

That, that was why Vil had grabbed the tissues. Wait, were you crying? That would explain why Vil was gently dabbing away the stray tears as they rolled down your face.

“A lovely film, love,” he whispered, “I should have warned you about the ending—”

You stopped him by grabbing softly at his hand, bringing it up to cup your face. “No, it’s alright. It was a beautiful movie,” you hiccuped, leaning into his touch. 

Vil caressed calming strokes on your cheek, the slow movements helping you focus on him. He placed a kiss on your forehead, a gentle hum escaping as the kiss lingered. “Oh potato,” your old nickname from when the two of you were still just only acquaintances, “what am I going to do with you?”

You grabbed a tissue and loudly blew your nose, “Cuddles?”

Vil sighed softly, but put his arm around you, resting his head against yours and placing a kiss to your temple. “Alright,” he hummed and continued humming a gentle tune until you were falling asleep. While he would prefer sleeping in bed, he supposed he could stand to cuddle with you on the sofa as the rain eased up outside.

~~~~~~~

Schatz; German for treasure, a common term of endearment

Tags; @azulashengrottospiano [I've seen the Vil brain rot and gushing], @eynnwwyjth, @xxoomiii

[in1-nutshell]

OMG can you do sparkling! buddy in MTMTE? 🥹

Sparkling Buddy is going to have some wild adventures in the near future.

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy the sparkling on the Lost Light with Skids, Rewind, and Ravage

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader

MTMTE

The ship hit a small pod outside.

The crew brought it inside for further inspection.

To everyone’s surprise, a sparkling was inside.

There was a mad dash to get the little one straight to the med bay for inspection.

Turns out that the little one was okay.

Not too bad out of shape or malnourished

A meeting was soon held about how the sparkling would be raised and who was going to be their primary guardian.

Apparently, that got a lot of bots arguing on who the sparkling would belong to.

But not as much as what to name the sparkling.

Cue the random name generator wheel spinning over several hundred names.

The little arrow landed on ‘Buddy’.

Half of the bots believe it was Swerve who put down the name, but the name stuck around.

Everyone pitched in to help babysit the sparkling on their weekly rotations before a primary guardian could be drawn.

Skids

One of the top best babysitters on board.

Mainly for two reasons.

One was that he could keep the kiddo entertained for long periods of time.

Two he could match their speed when they got playful.

Constantly had the sparkling either in his servos or on his shoulder.

Loves to throw the sparkling up and down and hear them laugh and chirp.

Has this possibly given Magnus a stroke?

There is a possibility…

Despite what many bots tell him not to do, Skids brings Buddy into the vents with him.

His defense? He was teaching Buddy who were the crewmembers they could trust to be with.

Definitely has not lost Buddy on accident in the vents.

Nope hasn’t happened.

“Has anyone seen Skids? I have Buddy’s toy and I don’t know where he is.”--Rung

Meanwhile in the vents…

Skids pointing at Rung walking down the hallway.

“And who is that, Buddy?”--Skids

Happy chirping sounds.

“Smart one aren’t ya.”—Skids

Rewind

Rewind is going to film everything this little sparkling does.

He can’t help it!

They are so cute trying to learn about the world around them and he has a camera bolted to his helm.

Of course he is going to film it.

From the best times.

To the worst times.

Has plenty of educational films for Buddy to watch while he is babysitting them.

Rewind has them all saved on a special file.

Sometimes when movie night is going slow, he’ll sneak in a couple videos of Buddy doing some goofy activities.

It usually raises everyone’s spirits on gloomier days.

Rewind often carries Buddy in his arms or when he is feeling extra goofy, he’ll give them a ‘piggyback ride’.

He wants a sparkling but doesn’t know how to bring it up to Chromedome yet.

Maybe they will get their chance in the future.

But for now, he is happy to babysit and take videos of the sparkling.

Buddy trying to near how to walk.

Rewind filming the entire thing.

“C’mon Buddy! You almost got—DOMEY OUT OF THE WAY!—There you go! Up! Up! Up! Oooohhhh! Almost had it there, Buddy!”

Rewind picks up the fallen sparkling whole is just giggling at the little camera.

“Maybe next time.”—Rewind

Buddy pats him on the helm.

Ravage

Ravage claims that he doesn’t want anything to do with the sparkling.

He is saying this as he is cuddling said sparkling.

He has firmly stated time and time again that he does not care for them.

But his actions tell a different story.

Ravage is constantly watching over the sparkling from hidden spot throughout the ship, especially with bots he doesn’t really trust yet.

Which is most of the crew.

Has let the sparkling ride on his back while sprinting down the halls.

Buddy crawling around the hallways unattended.

Ravage walking towards Buddy before gently grabbing them like a kitten.

He continues to walk until he reaches Megatron’s empty habsuite and puts Buddy down on the berth.

“I swear… these mechs will look away for a second and BAM! Your already halfway across the ship.”--Ravage

Buddy just starts playing with their servo.

[mingsolo]

pause + play

wonwoo x reader (f) / g: meet cute, 90s au, fluff, strangers to lovers / wc: 4k / warnings: cursing, some nipple action, mingyu being a sl*t, / r: nc17

written for Now, That's 90s! collab, hosted by @beomcoups and I! ngI struggled not because I couldn't write this one, but because life is kicking my ass and I couldn't find the time to really sit and think through it... anyways it turned out pretty cute please read if you can <3

A drop of sweat rolled down from your forehead, you blew some air to your face but of course it was hot and it made you dizzy. “Is this thing even on?.” you shouted from the other corner of the shop, to your co-worker, Mingyu.

You stood under the AC trying to feel if there was actually cool air coming from it but you couldn’t feel but a weak wave of hot air over you. 

“Yeah, that thing is better off.” Mingyu shouted back, where he was lining up tapes in the kids section. “By the way, could you help me check the return box? There’s some tapes missing here, they should be there.” 

You waved out, going to the returns box at the entrance of the store. A few tapes were in, three Toy Story 2, one Tarzan and a copy of 10 Things I Hate About You along with two Armageddon at the bottom. You placed the movies on the counter as Mingyu was approaching you. “We need to rewind them first, all of them!” You say inspecting the tapes, “Geez, why do they never do it?.” 

Mingyu laughs and shakes his head. “The sign even says “Please” on it, right?.” He taps the hardcover of the vhs box, where “Please rewind before returning” signs reads on it.

“And it's so hot to be in the rewind room!.” you nag once more, taking the tapes with both arms and dragging your feet to the back of the store and rewind the tapes before someone comes looking for them. Mingyu returns to his previous spot on the kids section, not without laughing at you first. 

Despite the whole minute that it took you to get there, you are now placing the tapes into the machine, leaving the door open so some of the air could get in, the small and dark room feels suffocating just by being two steps inside it. In the speakers of the store, the faint sound of Genie In a Bottle plays on and you start humming, partly because you have the song stuck in your head thanks to Mingyu playing the cd over and over when he is on shift, and because it somehow helps the task be a little less tedious.

While on it, you hear the bells ringing meaning a customer has come to the store. You peek out to see a familiar tall figure enter, waving his way in walking directly towards the back where Mingyu was at the kids section.

“Hey!” you heard the guy saying until he disappeared from your line of sight. You tried to peek out more but it won’t be possible without you stepping out of the room, so you hurried up the process to get another glance before he’s out.

In the month you have been working there, you have seen this guy come in at least once a week. You were sure he was Mingyu’s friend as he always walked directly towards him or looked for him especially after picking up some tapes. The past times he had come with you on shift without Mingyu, you had the bad luck of always doing something like rewinding tapes or in the bathroom, never getting the chance to even greet him when he entered the store.

One thing for sure, he was cute as hell. Cat like eyes and thin defined lips, huge black frames on his face, making it look smaller. And you noticed only by getting little glimpses of him, as he was always in a rush or something, never staying more than five minutes. You thought of asking Mingyu who he was but decided not to as you were still new in the store and even if you liked and had fun working with him, Mingyu has proven to be the teasing type, and he wouldn’t let you work in peace if you dare asking him about this other guy.

Just as you were cursing at Armageddon for rewinding so slowly, you heard them saying goodbyes and the chiming doorbell announcing he was out. 

With a sigh you rolled your eyes and finished your task without hurry, hoping the cat boy would come back soon and you were luckily enough to be on the counter to greet him. 

.

.

.

Today was a Monday, and the week promised to be a quiet one. Not many new releases came to the store yet so customers wandered a little bit before getting out, or just asking when would you stock Sleepy Hollow or why you had so few copies of The Sixth Sense. You tried your best to give every customer a smile at the beginning but after a month of getting the same questions over and over, you just shrugged and advised people to come back later, and maybe the previous customer had brought it back by then. 

Mingyu was way better with customers, both girls and guys. ‘I’ll get it ready and rewinded this afternoon for you’ he said with a wink to a middle aged lady, who shamelessly smiled and flirted with him while her kid smudged chocolate from the bar he was eating on a copy of Inspector Gadget.

“Great, now I have to clean that.” you glared at Mingyu as he saved the piece of paper with the woman’s number on his back pocket once she and the chocolate kid were gone. “I swear to God I’ve seen her come in with her husband.” you arch your eyebrows at him. 

“That doesn’t seem like a me problem.” He shot gun fingers at you and got back to his task on the counter, where a few other ladies waited for him.

You chuckled and started spraying windex on Mathew Broderick’s face covered in chocolate, laughing at how Mingyu flirted shamelessly with every single one of them, all at once, but they didn’t seem to mind. 

Once good ol’ Mathew’s face was clean you left the tape back on the shelf, when you heard the bell ring. “Y/n, can you help?” Mingyu hurried to tell you, he was now surrounded by the women as he showed them a copy of Between Your Legs animatedly. “This one is from our exclusive foreign section, so exotic! And the plot is fascinating…” He looked at the ceiling and the ladies followed.

You shook your head and got up from where you were squatting, seeing the tall figure of cat-boy coming through the door. He looked at the commotion on the counter and figured out Mingyu was busy at the moment. He hesitated for a second before turning back ready to head out when you sprinted towards him, shouting “HI!! WELCOME IN!” maybe a little too enthusiastically. 

“H-hi,” he said back, a little startled by your shouting. Mingyu also looked up to you for a moment, but he was quickly back to answering curious questions from his little fan club. “Uhm, I’ll be back later when-”

“No! Please, I know Mingyu usually helps you out but please tell me what can I do for you?,” you smiled with pressed lips and your voice two tones higher than how you usually speak, but you couldn’t help it. Seeing him in front of you confirmed your suspicions, he was stupidly handsome, freakingly hot even behind those thick square glasses. His hoodie smells like coffee and the cap he was wearing backwards made the earring on his left ear seem more dangly. 

“I really would prefer to wait for Mingyu…” 

“Nonsense!” you guided him towards a free counter next to where Mingyu and his harem were discussing Between Your Legs, quickly putting some space between you two before you would get inappropriately close and start sniffing his sweater, your eyes shining brightly as you spotted cat hairs on them. 

God he is so hot for a nerd!!!

“So, what can I do for you today, I’m Y/n by the way,” you smiled again and you could swear you creeped him out by the way he started sweating. It was hot as hell inside but still, his ears turned red and the tapes he was carrying under his arm were starting to slip from his grip. He quickly put them in the pocket of his hoodie, smiling awkwardly and glancing at Mingyu behind his frames. 

You glanced at Mingyu too, who began chuckling, losing for a moment his track on the plot of the movie he was explaining. 

“Are you going to return those?” you extended your hand but he stood still, tapes still packed into his hoodie. “No?,” you asked again. He opened his mouth briefly but smacked his lips loudly looking at the ceiling. 

He looked at Mingyu and his expression changed from mortified to annoyed. He bit his cheek and took a deep breath before taking out the tapes and laying them one on top of another before you. 

Night of the Giving Head, A Beautiful Behind, Yank my Doodle! It's a Dandy!, and Throbin Hood laid on the counter before you.

There was a few seconds of silence, only broken up by Mingyu’s suppressed wheeze. You cleared your throat lightly, taking the tapes and checking if they were rewinded. “Oh a rewinder, that’s unusual!” you chuckled dryly not really knowing how to break the wall of ice that suddenly appeared in front of you.

“I didn’t watch them,” He cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact. “That’s why they are- anyway.” He sighed and stopped, releasing it seemed like he was making up excuses for not one in particular. 

“You don’t have to explain,” You tried to sound friendly and not make a big deal, but you had so many questions and this selection was the last thing you expected to see him with. “We are a judging free video store,” the words coming out mechanically as you remembered the training video Mingyu played for you once on your first day.

“Yeah…It’s not… Can we please get this over with quickly?,” He returned to his mortified expression and you nodded quickly annotating the returns on the logbook. “Thanks,” He smiled awkwardly at you before tapping the counter once, glancing quickly at Mingyu one more time before sprinting out.

“He’s going to murder me, but oh god, it was worth it!”

Mingyu was now smiling ear to ear, waving goodbye to the last girl that visited the shop for the day, her phone number written on his palm. “I got no more sticky notes left,” he said before sticking his hand out to her.

“Yeah that was… I didn’t even know we had these.” you were sweeping the floors as the store was about to close, keeping yourself busy for the rest of the day still thinking about the Night of The Giving Head cover inside your mind. “Wait, he’s your friend, does he only watch porn?.” 

Mingyu laughed loudly, helping you out by taking the trash bags out of the bins and emptied them in one big plastic bag. “Maybe, why do you ask?” he arched his eyebrows at you. 

“No reason, it was just- he doesn’t look like the porn addict type.” 

Mingyu laughed louder. “Wait till I tell him you think he’s a porn addict!” He collected the dust you were sweeping onto the plastic bag, making a knot and throwing it on his shoulders. 

“Wait! Why would you tell him that?!” 

“No reason…” he smirked, walking outside to take out the trash. 

.

.

.

The next week the store got busier than usual, so Mingyu and you barely got to chat with each other about cat-boy or anything really. He had also switched shifts to train a new employee, a younger guy, probably a highschooler, who he spent most of the time in the mornings, leaving you alone to take care of the closing shift. 

Saturday came quickly, and you were alone in the shop. Lights were almost all out, and you were finishing stocking some new tapes that came that afternoon, the last task before officially closing. 

Somehow the humid air was insufferable even by night time, so you were sweating bullets over the thick fabric of your uniform shirt. You couldn’t believe they made you wear this in this hot weather, but alas, you were transpiring and melting under it. 

As you finished putting the tapes on their respective shelfs, you walked towards the bathroom where you had a spare shirt, not before turning the volume of the radio a little, you played music a lot in the shop and the customers seemed to like your taste more like Mingyu’s.

Once there, humming to Bills Bills Bills, you were looking for your spare shirt when you noticed you it wasn’t there. “What the-?” you cursed under your breath, sure you had one hanging on the stall reserved for staff. One glance at the sweaty uniform shirt you just took off and you knew you won’t be wearing that again. “Come on, I already put roll-on….” you whined. Then you remembered there were a couple of uniform shirts in the lockers, maybe too big for you but that would do for today and you will return them tomorrow. 

And so you were signing,

Can you pay my telephone bills?, 

Can you pay my automo’ bills? 

If you did, maybe we could chill…. 

When suddenly the tall figure of cat-boy appeared in front of you right by the counter. He stared. And you stared back. And his eyes stayed on your face for a a few seconds, but they quickly drifted a little down, on your lace see through bra, nonetheless.

“What the fuck?!” you shouted, sprinting towards the locker room. 

“Im sorry! I knocked, and the lights were on…. I thought…” you could hear him speak but there was a high ringing pitch in your ears that made his voice fade away as you took one of the spare uniform shirts and slipped in over your head. “The fuck you needed to wear a see through one today, huh?!” you covered your face with both palms.

“I’m sorry… I better go…”

You heard footsteps and shouted “No!” back but when you were out you could only see his back walk out the door.

You blew raspberries, feeling insufferably hot under the hot fabric of the oversized uniform shirt, that covered you like a circus carp. “Too much for our second encounter, cat-boy.” 

.

.

.

The next day you got to the store a little early, trying to catch Mingyu before he left for the day, and to your surprise, he was waiting for you.

“A nipple piercing!” 

“Good afternoon to you too!” you sighed, walking towards the locker room with Mingyu’s tail wagging at your ankles. “And how could he notice that?! It was dark!” you threw your backpack at your locker, huffing and puffing, ignoring Mingyu’s curious eyes.

“I guess he was really paying attention,” he teased. You shot him a glare and he raised his arms signaling peace. “Hey, don’t be mad that he told me, I’m his best friend and well, he actually came looking for you, how could he know you liked walking around the store naked when you were on shift alone?” 

“I-wasn’t-naked.” you slapped the locker room shut. “Wait… he came looking out for me?”

Mingyu wiggled his eyebrows in response. 

“Tell me everything, or else.”

“He likes you, duh.” Mingyu moved toward his locker, pretending to roam for something but you knew there wasn’t anything there. “He has had his eyes on you, since the first day he saw you working here.”

“But why hasn't he talked to me? He always comes in and it’s gone in a second.” 

Mingyu clicked his tongue. “He had a bad break up two years ago, and honestly he’s pretty shy, maybe that’s why we are such good friends, we balance each other…” you crossed your arms signaling he was deviating from the topic. “... So he wasn’t sure how to approach you, he has been coming here asking me to be a wingman but I refused, I was trying to encourage him so I told him you were going to be alone yesterday.”

You sighed, walking out the locker room with Mingyu behind you, ready to get off.

“Want me to tell W-”

“NOO!” you shouted, making the couple of customers in the store turn their heads at you. “Don’t tell me his name, I want him to tell me when he finally comes and talks to me.”

Mingyu chuckled and nodded, messing your head a little in sign of encouragement. “Get him, tiger. I’ll pass the note out.” He winked and you shrugged as he walked out the store.

Needless to say, all the way to the evening your stomach was swirling inside you. You jumped a little every time the doorbell chimed, and it sank back to your stomach everytime cat-boy wasn’t the one entering.

It was almost seven and you were waving goodbye to the last customer of the day before you changed the sign from open to closed, when you heard the bell one more time. 

The couple of teens walked past cat-boy as he entered the store and they walked out. You could hear loud stomps inside your chest, and you were pretty sure they were so loud he could hear them too. You looked at the mirror wall to your left, and despite being a few feet away you could spot the newest shades of red adorning your face. 

As he walked closer, you smiled shyly, spotting the same color on him too.

“Hey,” he waved so tiny that you felt like your body was becoming butter, cause despite standing up, you felt melted, all over the floor. 

“Hi,” you replied back, not knowing what to say really. Dissociating a little from the awkwardness you focused on him. All of him. His fluffy hair, not hiding under a cap this time. The black thick frames. He was wearing a black sweater, a turtle neck one. Few noticeable white hairs on it. You remembered marshmallow, your cat, and smiled without noticing. 

“Y/n,?” you heard his voice crack, noticing you smiling.

“Sorry! Seeing the cat hair on your sweater reminded me of mine.”

“You have cats?” his eyes became a little bigger. “Me too!”

“Yeah.. I can tell by the cat hair,” you chuckled.

“Right…” he scratched the back of his head. “Well I have a couple.. A few.” 

“I love cats! I only have marshmallow because my landlord doesn’t let me have more, but one day I will!” you were glad you mentioned the cat hair cause this gave you a shot to talk more comfortably. “By the way, did Mingyu tell you my name?”

“I asked him, the first day I saw you here working.”

“Not fair, I didn't let him tell me yours.”

“Huh?” He arched his eyebrows, puzzled. 

“He told me you came looking for me yesterday… Sorry you find me like that, I swear I don’t usually walk around naked when I’m alone here…”

He laughed. “Mingyu told me you probably did.”

You scoffed. “He’s the whore not I.” 

“Can’t defend him from that,” He lowered his head a little, “Sorry I told him about your… well I was frantic after seeing you like that and ran straight to his dorm, I was too shocked I guess, I wasn’t trying to be a creep.”

“And what about the pornos? Night of the Giving Head, seriously?” 

“That was Mingyu! He dropped them at my dorm the night before telling me I should distract myself from being a coward and not talk to you…” He speaked fast and you were trying to follow up. “I swear I didn’t watched them, I tried, but they were too tacky”

“There’s tasteful porn?” you laughed.

“There should be… somewhere” he laughed back. 

“Bet the bastard wanted you to return them so I could catch you myself!” 

“He a hundred percent did.” 

There was a moment of silence after the laugh, and you felt like staring at the floor because looking at him was becoming addicting too quickly. 

“Want me to help you close? I want you to walk out with me for a while, maybe get some coffee?” He suddenly speaks, and you snap out of the mental image of you two sitting on your couch, a few cats around. 

“Uh- well I just need to take out the trash and I’m ready, I- would love that,” He smiles from ear to ear and stands straight, making you notice he’s like, really really tall. 

“I’ll help you with that, be ready when I come back!” He sprinted towards the entrance where the two plastic bags laid one beside the other and took them out. You run towards the bathroom as soon as he’s out, changing your ugly uniform shirt into your spare one, feeling relieved when you notice is there this time. After putting roll on, combing your hair a little and putting some perfume you walk out, finding him waiting for you near the entrance.

He asks if he can wash his hands and once that’s done you close up, and you start walking beside him to nowhere in particular. 

You suggest walking to your recent favorite spot, a part cafe, part flower shop near your apartment. Walking there you talk about your studies, the tedious but fun times at the video store, his job at the library (he was such a nerd!), his and your cat, about everything and nothing in particular, and time just flew by so quickly.

“This is so nice, I didn’t even notice the hour!” you say checking the casio watch on your wrist. And he does the same. 

“Let me walk you home, I would feel bad by letting you take a cab at this hour.”

“It’s not far away…” you object but he insists. “Fine, but just by the door, what if you are indeed a creep or something!” He pouts and gives you the stink eye. You laughed, delighted how quickly you became comfortable with each other.

Once at your door you ask him to give you his palm. “I learned this trick from our dear Gyu,” you say, taking out a sharpie pen from your backpack and writing your number on his palm. “There, call me as soon as you get home, I’m not done talking to you.”

You thanked him for the coffee and sprinted towards your complex door without letting him say anything else. 

A quarter to eleven, your phone starts ringing. 

Grabbing the cordless phone from its base and throwing yourself over your bed you answer. “Hello?,” 

“I was about to tell you my name and ask you on a proper date,” you heard his shaky voice from the other line. He must have literally run or sprinted towards his own apartment. “But you ran away.” 

You smiled, twirling your hair, eyes closed remembering every moment since you closed the video store a few hours ago.

“Y/n?,” 

“Not yet cat-boy, I want you to tell me only after you first kiss me.” A few moments of silence before he speaks again, you can’t see him but you know he’s smiling too.

“Deal, then I won’t be cat-boy much longer.”

@mingsolo please don't repost/translate to any sites.

[quietlyimplode]

ignite your bones

After the fall of General Dreykov, and the remnants of the Red Room still at large, Natasha first year at SHIELD is anything but healing. Labeled a traitor and a turncoat, Natasha tries to find her footing in a strange new world.

Whumptober 2024: Day 2 - Trust Issues

Warnings: food hoarding

Word Count: 1.5k (gif not mine)

Summary: Maria and Clint talk about Natasha. Clint realizes that bringing in a black widow may not be as easy as he thinks.

Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist

.

Clint yawns.

Maria throws a book at him and groans.

“I’m so bored,” he complains. “How do you do this?”

“That’s what you get, for bringing a stray home,” she rolls her eyes and throws her pen at him.

“They can’t keep me grounded forever right?”

Maria shrugs, “Ask Coulson.”

Clint throws them back at her and glances at the clock.

“I should probably go,” he sighs.

“Pick up time?”

He bows, “I am the chauffeur, am I not?”

“She’s not eating,” Maria tells him as Clint starts to walk away.

“What?”

He turns and eyes her closely.

“She doesn’t eat the food, haven’t you noticed? Not unless it’s packaged or clear liquid.”

She pauses.

“I don’t know what she does eat, have you been giving her food?”

Clint shakes his head.

“Only the occasional granola bar when I’ve eaten one?”

He pauses. “How do you know?”

Maria pauses.

“She’s been here two weeks, what has she been eating?”

“How do you know?”

Looking around, Maria opens the surveillance program on her computer, and rewinds to breakfast.

“Don’t tell Coulson I’m showing you this,” she growls.

Clint looks forward with interest, feeling voyeuristic at watching her.

He knew they’d be surveilling her, but had underestimated just how closely.

It seems stupid in hindsight.

The breakfast is delivered.

The blue tray pushed through a small opening on the floor, and Clint feels angry at how just like prison this must feel for her.

Natasha approaches it, and squats to look at the food.

She inspects the apple, and places it on the bed away from the other food. The scrambled eggs, she touches as though she’s looking for something; pressing them down; then looks at the juice box and places it next to the apple.

The tray gets pushed back, the rest of the cooked food untouched, and, after a moment, taken away.

“Breakfast she eats the most, or takes the most from, I guess.”

Clint keeps watching, but she doesn’t eat. The juice box gets drunk slowly, but the apple is placed inside the small side table drawer.

He glimpses one of the granola bars he’d given her, and he feels like an idiot for not noticing.

“Talk to her about it?”

He nods.

“Why’d you tell me? You don’t even like her?”

Maria looks at him, annoyed at the look.

“Just because I like her, doesn’t mean I want her dead.”

He looks away from the computer, Maria turning the program off.

“Clint, she’s not okay, traumatized black widows; don’t you think you’re out of your depth?”

He takes the criticism and thinks about Natasha’s face as he’d offered her a lifeline. The way she looked so sad and resigned to her fate, and the run and hide through Berlin.

“I’m all she’s got,” he shrugs.

Maria shakes her head, but says nothing.

“I’ve gotta go. I’ll chat to you later?”

He leaves without the response, mulling on her words, wondering just how hard this was going to be.

.

Clint waits, just as he promised as the door opens as Natasha steps out.

“I’ll see you in two days,” Olivia tells both the receptionist and Natasha at the door.

The receptionist nods, and gives Clint a smile, ignoring Natasha as she steps out and forward.

“Sorry,” Clint says ruefully, taking the handcuffs from Olivia.

Natasha holds her hands up, face blank, eyes glazed.

They step in line with each other, the walk back to the glass prison punctuated with Clint’s quiet words.

“I feel like you look when I walk out of therapy. Did it go okay?”

He pauses, “you don’t have to answer that.”

When there’s no words, he decides to continue talking.

He knows she doesn’t trust them; any of them. He really wants to know what she talks about in therapy. If she says anything at all or if Olivia just talks to her.

He wonders idly if he needs to talk to someone too.

Probably.

The last couple of months have been… intense, for lack of a better word and he wonders if, like Maria had said, he was out of his depth.

It was not the first time he thought it.

Natasha’s despondency was affecting him.

What did he know about defectors and a traumatised super spy?

He just didn’t want her to die.

Not by his hand, or her own.

“I like her though,” he continues.

“Give her a chance, if you can. She’s… not unlike you, in her background and maybe can help? She’s there to help.”

He mulls on his own words as he leads her a different way back. He’s right.

If anyone can help her; Olivia can.

Determined to show her a different part of the complex, they go through the kitchens, and Clint picks up two apples, throwing her one and then crunching onto the other.

It gives him time to think.

He’s going to need to touch base with Olivia, make sure that she is interacting, doing what was promised.

He could ask her what he should be doing too; for her, for himself.

Clint leads the way back with practiced ease, the silence allowing him to think.

As they enter the first round of checks, he smiles easily to the straight faced guards; then as they get deeper to the third and forth stations, it’s just Clint’s badge letting them in.

It seems to bolster Natasha, the less people around, she matches his steps and bites the apple. At the noise, Clint turns and smiles.

“You don’t eat much,” he observes.

Natasha shrugs and takes another bite.

He laughs at her sass.

“Do you not like the food?”

Natasha looks down.

He feels a little mean, talking about this after she’s just had 90 minutes of therapy.

He’s sure the sessions are not the easiest, and he can see the slight tremor in her hands, despite her trying to mask it by holding onto the apple.

They reach her cell and she steps inside the glass, holding her wrists out for him to release them.

He does.

Taking the cuffs away and pushing them into his pocket.

“Just think about it, okay? If there’s food you want or prefer, just tell me? I can help.”

Natasha looks at her feet and takes two steps back, the door closing and the glass sealing shut.

.

Despite her better judgement, Natasha continues to eat the apple. The constant hunger makes her feel on edge sometimes.

She’s so used to it, that until Clint had said something, she hadn’t given it much thought.

Sitting on the bed, legs crossed, she chews on it and thinks.

Therapy had been tough.

Though not for the first time, Olivia had called her out on things that she shouldn’t know.

Details about the Red Room that only the guards, the officers or widows knew, inner workings of the KGB and Red Room procedures like the trial of the silent knife and graduation.

And whilst Natasha hadn’t had another panic attack, it had been close.

The push to talk and baiting was tempting.

How did she know?

She knew she’d eventually have to talk, but for now, whilst she could hold onto her silence, she wanted to keep it.

It was the only control she had.

Her mind feels like a minefield.

Sometimes, she feels like once she starts talking, she’ll never stop; but the years of self preservation wouldn’t let her.

She sorts the known information, finishing the apple and swallowing slowly, closing her eyes on the onslaught of images and thoughts.

It takes her a moment to let the memory of the silent knife trial pass. The blood on her hands feeling so visceral and real she opens and closes her eyes just to check.

She breathes.

In.

Holds it.

And out.

It has become the easiest thing to do after therapy. To think and sort through all the things that were said, disclosed and asked of her.

After a day like today where she had had to do both debriefing and therapy, she knew that nightmares would be inevitable.

She just hoped that whoever was watching the cameras tonight was sleeping on the job.

Natasha breathes slowly again.

Starting with the image that comes first, she focuses as best she can on sorting real from not real. What they had said, what she had disclosed, information that still was secret and that which had become known.

They were still only on major players of the organisation; those that she knew had ties into the western world. People she had been sent after, political agendas. It was far easier to talk about than herself, though she had a feeling that was coming.

Her mind flashes to Dreykov and she bites the inside of her cheek, drawing blood.

Real or not real.

She tries to ground herself in this moment.

She didn’t trust them.

They knew too much.

She’d told them too much.

There was no going back now.

Natasha thinks of Maria again.

Always an ending thought.

The divulgence of knowing her birthdate.

Information known by a select few but, perhaps also could be found from intel files. It means that somewhere here there’s more intel on her; prior to her coming here.

What she wouldn’t give for that file.

Therapy conversations had given her pause.

It was difficult to think about without her mind flashing back; and she didn’t want to.

Not here.

Not now.

There’s a file on her.

And she wants it.

.

<3

[especiallyqhere]

Their first meeting (Golden Arrow AU)

----

Leone Abbacchio first discovered he had a 'guardian angel' after the death of his partner on one of his police investigations. (He did not need Polpo's golden arrow to give him a stand.)

Depressed and grief-stricken, he rewinded the scene multiple times using Moody Blues to see where he could have saved him but to his disappointment, he found no answers. The murderer of his partner and first lover got away that night and Abbacchio swore to find him and kill him...

One day, he did actually find him. Dead. Someone or something had got to him first - On closer inspection, it looked like this guy was an avid drug user and died due to an overdose. Anticlimactic. Unable to seek revenge for his partner, he took to drink, wandering the Naples streets.

One night, a man dressed in white and... zippers noticed him and began to pursue him. Afraid that this may be his end, he attacked the man using his stand, only to realise that the zipper man also had a 'guardian angel'. In retaliation, the man packed a punch, but he seemed to go steady on Abbacchio, almost giving up half-way through. To test this theory, Leone smashes his wine bottle, grabbing the other with Moody Blues and slams him to the floor as he turned his back.

The man, revealed to be Bruno Bucciarati explains why he was following him, asking for Leone to join his group in the Mafioso. Thinking this was a joke, Abbacchio threatens Bruno, saying that he will kill him if he doesn't shut up. On reply, Bucciarati laughs and then looks up at him with upmost sincerity, calling him beautiful and that because he harnesses a 'Stand', he believes he is beautiful, making him a perfect fit for his team.

Flustered, Leone backs down, finally joining Team Bucciarati.

[electric-blorbos]

Am I the only one who loves the idea of an AI who rewinds their memory to recreate their happiest/closest moments with their beloved? I can imagine an inquisitive computer like HAL inspecting his memory out of genuine curiosity for their lingering looks and touches...and then becoming fixated on these small points of contact. Oops! 🔴💕

(Love this blog, by the way!)

OH MY GOD I N BET EVEN THOUGHT OF THAT!

Imagine the AI playing back every single time you touched them, or looked at them for a little too long for analysis!

[reazelf411]

Looking back at Nikai's clothes, I realized something.

In 'Bake no Hana' where someone makes KAITO cover it(cover by delphic (Vyreed) ) , a youtube user commented if we playfully put this song on Nikai's pov, they like saying how he's the one and only Vocaloids deemed a commercial failure at one point. Credit to the youtube user, Resa(@neuroticly) for the statement.

Gears on his clothes out of all thing? A representation of how he's the 'gear' that keep making everyone moving on?

My AU:

Guess this is where my AU Gallerian is Nikai make sense. Somehow, the gear seems like representing 'Gear', or 'Adam' or the 'Greed's' demon''. It also represents Gallerian too, since there's one time Banica refers Gallerian as 'the gear who fell into the trap', the similar phrase is use by Master of the Graveyard(which is Banica technically-) to refers to Gear.

So the lyrics in 'Bake No Hana' are actually makes sense, since Bake No Hana can also interpreted as 'a wolf in sheep's clothing' and 'concealing one's true character'. Nikai(Gallerian) push his 'real self' away to help N25 with their problems. All of the lyrics in 'Bake no Hana' make sense to him.

Don't look - it's not like you'd understand, right?

It's as if this flower of transformation has finally gone and bloomed

And now it can't turn back into a bud

Don't look - it's not like you'd understand, right?

It's as if this flower of transformation has finally gone and bloomed

I can't say anything, I can't make it disappear

He can't rewind what he did. He killed so many people in his past life and he has the regret actually. But he can't do anything. Because everything is in a past now and he can't change it.

(My lazy arc begin now)

He ask everyone to go away. The look he meant maybe, is the look that his only 'best friend' gave to him. Yet he ask someone to stay by his side. Even though the person he ask also betrayed him, and he know about it at last minute. Bruno, perhaps?

Sorry for the wrong order from the lyric.

Not the first time he got that look? The look where people saw him as the son of a witch(headcannon where people don't like him because of that status)?

Slipping and losing his mind. Because of his greed, he lose his mind. The secret that he meant probably about his corruption or Bruno's secret where he never tell Gallerian about Nemesis's existence. And because of that, everything falls apart.

Yep. Suicidal thoughts.

His intention to bring back Michelle will never be understood. So what's the point of living when the only person that makes him could love someone is gone? There's no point.

He wants to dissappear. For making many people lose their life, for making many people broken because of his decision. He want to end it with a death penalty by a real 'judge', Nemesis.

Those torture that he got inside the hell is a punishment for him, for being born. He want to die.

But he has a literal children that doesn't have a happy life to take care of. So he take those responsibility, push his real self and help them. To the point where he forgot who is he. To the point where he spirited away.

... From a simple dress inspection to a whole essay. Th is wrong with me-

[aislinrayne]

I said by the end of the week and I made it by the skin of my teeth oml - tags: @navznak28 @awesomenessfeet @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

═════════════════════ [𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔒𝔫𝔢] [𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔗𝔴𝔬]  [𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔗𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢] [𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔉𝔬𝔲𝔯] (⇠ 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢!) ═════════════════════

ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤: 𝔐𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔢 

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: 𝔄𝔫𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔫𝔶 𝔏𝔬𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔨. ℌ𝔢'𝔰 𝔞𝔩𝔰𝔬 𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔢. 

ℑ𝔫 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔠𝔥 𝔏𝔬𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔦𝔰 𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔰 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔰𝔢𝔢𝔪𝔰.

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: ℭ𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔶𝔭𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔩 𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢, 𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔰𝔥 𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔲𝔞𝔤𝔢, 𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔲𝔫𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔦𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔢𝔡𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔩 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔲𝔪𝔞.

𝔄/𝔑: 𝔄𝔩𝔩 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔨 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔢 𝔞𝔤𝔢𝔡 𝔲𝔭 𝔱𝔬 𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔩𝔶 𝔞𝔡𝔲𝔩𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔡𝔲𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔬𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞𝔡𝔲𝔩𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔰. 

ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔲𝔟𝔧𝔢𝔠𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢!

═════════════════════

She was actually going to kill him this time.  

It’s not like she’d end up under suspicion if he suddenly disappeared on a case one night.  And even if the one man who would potentially look into it found a lead that pointed back to her, Detective Barnes would probably thank her for finally putting him out of his misery. 

She turns on her heel and paces back in front of the mouth of the alley, glaring at her wrist watch as though she could intimidate it into rewinding its hands.

It was ten minutes till sunset now, and still no sign of that infuriating liar of hers.

“‘It won’t happen again’ my bloody arse, you miserable little…”  She grumbles under her breath.  She’d even run to Satchell’s to pick up the flares Anthony had forgotten the night before herself in an attempt to ensure he had the best chance at fulfilling his promise, but still she arrived before him.

“S-s-still waiting on M-Mr. Lockwood, I t-take it?”  A kindly voice calls out.

She nearly jumps out of her skin at the voice echoing towards her from the other end of the partially overgrown path.  Oscar was approaching from the other end, already halfway to her.  A brief chill runs down her spine at her lack of awareness, scolding herself for being so distracted this late in the evening.  That was how mistakes happened, and mistakes this soon were not conducive to surviving the night

“Ah, yes.  He’s just had to stop for some additional supplies, flares and the like.”  She hides the lie behind a well-trained polite smile, smothering the twinge of irritation at having to cover for her boss once again.  

The portly man nods sagely at this, accepting it without a fuss.  

At least one thing had gone without a hitch today–

“F-forgive m-my impatience, Miss, but w-would you be willing to begin the inspections by yourself?  I’d l-like to be here to answer your qu-questions, but I’d rather not d-dally after sundown.”  

–she would like to rescind her earlier statement.  

Something in her gut was telling her to wait for reinforcements, but it was hardly the professional thing to do.  She was an Agent, for god’s sake, this was her job.

Against her better judgement, she replies, “Of course.  Let’s get you home as soon as possible, Mr. Hughes.” before gesturing for him to lead the way.  He dips his head in thanks and hurries back the way he’d come.  She mentally emphasizes every step she takes after him with a different creative insult to her incredibly late roommate.

Hughes stops halfway down, gesturing to a patch of bushes bordering the crumbling asphalt path.

“Th-this is the area the locals have reported seeing the d-dreadful echo of Alexandria, apparently attempting to c-crawl her way out of the brush here.  Horrible business, really.”  He says sadly.

“Were you close to her before she passed?”  She drops into a crouch, attempting to distract herself from her building anxiety by checking for anything that could give her a hint of what they would be dealing with.

If they were lucky, the Source could even be an old necklace only partially buried by the decaying leaves.  After poking around in the underbrush for a moment she let’s go of that optimistic delusion.

“N-not particularly.  She did perform in my theater of course, but I’m afraid I never had the chance to catch one of her shows.”  Oscar was shifting his weight from foot to foot, clearly eager to depart this area.  Not that she could exactly blame him with the psychic energy building by the minute, it’s already making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

She can’t shake the feeling something is incredibly wrong.

Bracing her hands on her thighs she pushes herself back upright before knocking the dirt off her palms with a loud clap.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Hughes.  I think it’s time for you to head home now, before things start getting strange.”  She shoots him a crooked smile, eager for a second alone to gather her thoughts before the shit hits the metaphorical fan.

“Ah yes, well, I appreciate you taking this case on such short notice.”  He turns to leave.  Then he pauses, hesitates for a moment, and looks back over his shoulder.  “Are you sure there’s nothing more you need to ask me?”  

“You’re very kind, but we should be fine.”  Something about his reluctance to leave was almost coming across as stalling, and alarm bells were beginning to sound in her head at the realization.  There was a moment where he simply looked at her, considering her words. 

This could be indicative of one of two things.  Either he really was the man he said he was, and was genuinely concerned to leave a ‘youth’ alone this time of evening in a potentially haunted alleyway, or he has some kind of potentially insidious alternative motivation.

“Very well, miss.  I’d say ‘break a leg’, but I fear in your line of work it’s too much of a possibility.”  He shoots her a little smile with that one, dipping his head in farewell before resuming his journey out of the alley.  She calls a final farewell after him, scolding herself for letting the psychic energy make her paranoid.

And then the source of the persistent sense of wrongness finally clicks into place.  He isn’t stuttering anymore. 

He stalls in front of her, turning slowly and fixing her with a stare that sends chills down her spine.  

With a silent curse, she realizes she’s spoken aloud.

“Shit.  I knew I was forgetting something.”  Oscar (had they actually checked if that was really his name?) leers at her.  Gone was the cowardly mouse-man that arrived on their doorstep the day before, leaving a snarling hunting dog in its place.

Feeling a strange sort of empathy for foxes, she reaches for the familiar weight hanging from her belt.

And this is what Anthony arrives to see, strolling around the corner like a runaway cat coming home for food.  He stops dead at the sight of them.

She wants to be angry with him, really she does, but right now she could weep with relief.

“I take it the gentlemen about to follow me up this quaint little alley are yours?”  He calls out to Hughes(?) as casual as can be, as if the implications of his words aren’t absolutely terrifying.  Already knowing what she’ll find, she reels around just in time to see the first man appear beyond the corner behind her.

“This end too.  They’ve got us boxed in.”  She calls over her shoulder, the hissing of her rapier leaving its sheath only seconds behind.  

Anthony follows her lead, pulling his blade free and pointing it at their would-be-client.  The man just laughs, raising his hands and backing away slowly while his goons start to move in on them.  

The girl allows herself to settle into a fighting stance, eyes flicking rapidly between the four men approaching her.  The first to snarl and run at her is a large brunette with scars littering his face.  He lunges at her, trying to grab ahold of her.  She springs back, staying just out of arm's reach as the clash of metal on metal rings out from behind her.  With a frustrated huff her attacker leans back before throwing himself fully into the next attempt.  

Her lips twitch into a resigned smirk at the predictable response, ducking under his arms and slashing at his right side with her rapier.  He bellows, dropping his fist with the kind of speed a man his size should not be allowed to have.  It hits her between the shoulderblades like a lightning strike, knocking her to the ground and forcing the air from her lungs.  A foot appears in her field of view.  She wheezes and forces her body to roll away, minding her blade and ignoring her burning lungs as she springs upright a few feet away.  

The skin on the palms of her hands and part of her jaw is rubbed raw and bloody from the tumble but she does her best to ignore them in favour of ducking the fist flying towards her.  She swings her rapier at the body attached to it, shredding through fabric and skin.  There’s no time to process the small victory before movement in the corner of her eye catches her attention and a scorching pain tears through her sword arm.

The shriek of pain behind Lockwood turns his blood to ice.  Jumping away from his own opponent and spinning on his heel, he catches sight of the girl staggering away from an assailant, blood already seeping through the fingers of the hand tightly gripping her bicep.  Her rapier hangs loosely from her injured arm and he can hear the tip of the blade skittering down the path paired with laboured breathing as she tries to retreat.  

A flash of red-hot protectiveness thaws his veins. 

He closes the distance between them in a few strides, pulling her into him with his left arm and lashing out with the rapier in his right.  The large man lets out a pained yell as the blade slices across the back of his hand, loosening the grip on his knife and letting it fall to the ground.  The crunching of gravel underfoot alerts him to the next man trying to get the drop on him.  Swiftly moving the girl to safety behind him, he returns his focus to the gentleman he’d been sparring with initially.  Unfortunately for the two agents, said man had six bigger and uglier goons backing him now.

Anthony had dealt with worse odds and come out on top, just not since…  Well, to be completely honest, not since he’d given up on the notion that death was somehow preferable to the life he’d been living.  He realized with a start his hands were shaking, the extended blade of his rapier trembling ever so slightly in the light of the quickly setting sun.

He was actually afraid.  It would have been almost exhilarating if it weren’t for the girl gritting her teeth to bite back groans of pain behind him.  

He had to get her out of here and to the hospital as soon as possible.  (This time, at least, he was sure he’d win the doctor argument.)

The dark haired man had retrieved his knife and joined his friends, glaring murderously at Lockwood.

All hell breaks loose.

A bloodied hand moves to throw the knife, but Anthony is too fast.  He lunges forward and buries the tip of his blade in the man’s thigh, then twists it.  He takes a vindictive sense of satisfaction from the howl he gets in response and withdraws the blade at an angle.  The big man drops to the ground on one knee, trying to keep pressure on the hole in his leg.  Ugly #2, the oaf he’d been distracted by when she had been injured, didn’t allow him time to recalibrate.  An arm was swinging down on him, knife in palm.  Normally this would be easy enough to get out of just by dodging to the side, but he couldn’t do that without leaving the injured girl behind him at the mercy of these thugs.  So he lifts his rapier and braces the hilt with both hands, preparing to bear the force of the attack.  It still rattles him when it lands, the screeching of metal on metal filling the air for a moment.  He strains against the weight, glaring defiantly at the man before him. 

Ugly #3 takes this as his cue, rushing in from the side and swinging a fist at Lockwood’s unguarded stomach.

His only choice was to dodge and leave her exposed to danger, or hold his ground and take the blow.

Gritting his teeth, Anthony braces himself as best he can for the impact.  It winds him, forcing the air from his lungs and causing him to stumble back a few steps.  The girl behind him cries out in distress.  He wants to reassure her, but Ugly #2 uses his distraction to double down on their blades.  The weight forces him down on one knee, still struggling to regain the ability to breathe.

Ugly #4 had used the commotion to hide his movements as he crept around to their left, only drawing attention to himself to reach behind Anthony and grab the girl's injured arm.  She shrieks in pain and there’s no time to think before adrenaline floods his system and takes over.  With strength he didn’t know he had left in him, Lockwood pushes up hard against the knife, sending Ugly #2 stumbling back.  With his rapier now free, he slashes down at the shoulder of Ugly #4.  Blood pours from the wound immediately, the man cursing and retreating.  

He’d lost sight of Ugly #3 for a moment too long. “Anthony, behind you!”  She yells, but he can’t turn fast enough.  A resounding thud echoes through his head, and everything goes black.

═════════════════════ ℭ𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔰𝔬𝔬𝔫…

[aliasrocket]

౨౿ ⋆｡˚ ANTIQUE DOLL.

2.1k. fluff. smut.

Rocket watches you make a sandwich in bicycle shorts in the kitchen. It ends with Rocket watching you come.

a/n. if this fic is weird … it will be unweirded in a bit I promise

What are you gonna do about it, captain?

Oh shit, that drives him wild.

Rocket swallowed. His lips trembled, almost at the verge of parting but they were far too dry for such a grand movement.

Focus.

This might have been one of the hardest things he’d had to do in his life. And he’s gone through grieving the loss of more friends than he can count on his blunt little nails.

Then, you rip the scraps right out of his hands and make it your own. Like you owned it. Like you owned him. Like it was your achievement.

But that’s ridiculous. Rocket’s getting ahead of himself, he thinks, because he approached you. You saw him because he approached you. Can’t get stuff like that switched up.

What are y’gonna let me do? Rocket scores, possibly, and he’s running his tongue down the upper layer of his teeth.

Fuck using the stars for metaphors. You want raw? You want skill? You want something real? Well, Rocket knows all about that. Knows all about what he has, and what he does not. Maybe he’s up there, sure, but he’s not in the stars. He’s in a bright white-lit kitchen and he’s looking at your body like it’s one of those literary Terran films that you would play over and over, over and over until Rocket could recite the three or four seconds worth of dialogue the characters had in those five minutes rewinding again and again. It was something worth inspecting, you’d say, And damn, was he in the mood for a lotta’ that right now. You were more than just a moving picture in front of him. And maybe it was his fault you didn’t know that as well as he did.

What he has now, is you.

Anything. You. Want.

read the rest on ao3 <3

[blacktreacle22]

Elriel design choices?!

!!!!! Spoilers for ACOMAF, ACOWAR and ACOSF

Just some thoughts that may have been voiced already somewhere on here (or on tiktok, or instagram, or reddit (where i have also posted this….):

Just a small context: I am new (NEW) to the fandom (finished the series a couple of days ago, read them in about 2 weeks, now I am listening to them bc I am feral- next stop: ToG and CC!!)

So, when listening I either find myself rewind to listen to specific wording OR find myself wanting to do something else with my phone or just my hands or anything (like a sudoku or something).

Literally a couple of minutes ago, I was like “hmm what do I do, do I just sit in bed and listen? I don’t want to fall asleep and not know where I left the audio off” so I just stared at the picture of the book cover for ACOWAR (I read them on kindle) and as I was staring (really looking this time) i thought: “Is that Truth Teller? I mean, silly me, of course it is, it is the weapon that killed the King of Hybern, the big bad of the trilogy, duh!”

But then, on closer inspection I noticed something in the lower left corner that very much resembles a rose, imo. We already know what the rose is a symbol for, so I will spare you the Elain imbibed with spring-like qualities description. After that, I looked at the intertwined shapes of smoke, mist, tendrils, whatever you wish to call them and realized the one forming the rose is particularly lighter and the ones in the back are particularly darker- just like, you guessed it, shadows and light.

“Oh well, it could just mean that the Shadow D*ddy offered the really important weapon to the person that killed the king, not that big of a deal” (again, I will spare you the she’s-the-only-one-he-has-ever-entrusted-the-weapon-to discourse).

Or, dare I say, it was a really conscious design choice?

(REALLY IMPORTANT MENTION: when i started voicing this post in my head, the ACOTAR cover in my memory, had Tamlin’s beast on it, which I realized is actually Andras but I still made it work, I think)

I thought:

“hmm, interesting that you should have Andras on the first cover, serving as the event that triggered the whole story AND a testament to Tamlin’s power (shapeshifting- dual nature);

“interesting that you should have Rhys’ beast form on the second cover, him being the main love interest (on the book that the mating bond snapped in place and changed the story further) AND a testament to his dual nature (especially him being half-Illryan);

“interesting that you should have a dual symbolism (light and shadows, Az and Elain) both of them having a second nature of sorts, on the third cover, them being the people that basically made the story end;

So, not only are we keeping in line with the “dual nature symbolism” (which will most likely play a big part in Elaine’s book- with her being a seer) but we are also adding a duo on the center stage;

Not only are we referring to pivotal people/moments in the story, but we are putting them together in the spotlight;

If we are also to consider the fact that, in ACOTAR, we are hinted at Feysand (it is true, it happened, it is on page) in ACOMAF at Nessian (happened), I wonder what could possibly be hinted at in the third? Specifically now, that I have seen this book cover more clearly.

++++ the cover of ACOFAS is a flower, which again, great symbolism for… you guessed it, ELAINE. I do agree that it can also suggest spring, but what I think is even more important is that in spring, things are REBORN. So rebirth, a new beginning, a new story to tell, a new cycle of books.

And if you think about it, there is a new story to tell for each sister (even tho we had Feysand for the trilogy, they will still be there, and with Nyx that is a new beginning).

We have ACOSF, with friendship, love and healing.

And we have whatever is in store for us with Elaine’s book (bc I am so tired of bashing on her as a character, like it is going to CLEARLY be her book).

PS: I know it is not necessarily a good worded theory but this is my first ever post on reddit and it is currently 3 in the morning so I do hope I made sense for some people at least 🙏🥲

PPS: I am a hardcore Elriel shipper, THO, if everyone is happy and it is well written, I could eventually (months later, warm up to other ships- I am only here to read and appreciate amazing posts so please no ill-thoughts)❤️

[jc-jeicy-top]

🌐🅞🅝🅔 🅜🅞🅡🅔 🅜🅤🅛🅣🅘🅥🅔🅡🅢🅔: 🅐 🅕🅞🅡🅖🅞🅣🅣🅔🅝 🅐.🅤🌐

🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸English Version🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

🇺🇸ING

🌐Comic cannon, about the interaction, of CHURRA with CLAY from the A.U of the talented @clay10kind , we talked and it is cannon xD.

🌐context: CHURRA discovers a forgotten A.U and decides to go inspect it, but he finds one of the variants of frisk with which he becomes close and becomes very attached, knowing that he shouldn't... In the end the A.U is finalized and he doesn't He has the power to change the cannon.....but he can REWIND and live everything again, over and over again in different ways, even though the ending will always be the same.

🌐Fact: The REWIND Button is an ability created by the power that gave him clip and his determination, this button allows you to go back in time in any A.U that you have registered, without needing to have a single specific point to reach, but without having the power to change the cannon in its entirety, since all the important events of it will follow their course. The bad thing about this ability is that it consumes a lot of power and leaves CHURRA's powers disabled for several hours. In addition, it will cause problems in the timelines of that A.U since it interferes with its baseline directly.

[toxicanonymity]

🎃 blushing and kicking my feet I'm glad y'all liked my little fic of a fic 🥰🥰 I will definitely write a next part since there's interest:) If you want me to explore any ideas or kinks to write in lmk! I do have a rough plan and it does involve what's in the box lol. Thank you and keep being amazing! 🖤🖤🖤 P.s. only about 100 days left until Halloween!

cucking WHAT IF pt. 2

This follows: cucking stepdad w/ another Joel (by Toxic) and what if they continued pt. 1

The cucking continues!

by HALLOWEEN ANON

Anonymous asked:

As promised here is my part 2 to Thighs/Stepdad pool fun. I honestly felt kind of bad torturing stepdad after everything he went through yesterday so I was less mean than planned and added a reference about how he cums a lot based on Amazon. This will be the end of my fic of a fic with these fine Joels but I have something else planned that's with my own Joel creation (gilfy!sub!Joel). There's an Easter egg at the end of this fic if interested. :) I'm not as proud of this part but was still fun. Thanks Toxic we 🖤 you!- 🎃

Joel (SDJ) inspects the box that was rolled into his new room on a room service cart. On top of the cart was a steak, a bowl of strawberries, a bottle of Dom, and a pitcher of ice water. Under the long white cloth on the cart sat the box. It was light blue with a white ribbon. “The fuck…” SDJ thought as he stared at the giant bow. What could be inside? And what was this game you were playing with him? Haven’t you tortured him enough?

He takes a bite of steak and groans. Easily the best meal he’s had on this entire trip. He chews on the salty, slightly charred meat and forgot for a minute about his shame. His fork and knife digs into the flesh, cutting vigorously as he gulps down the champagne like Sunny D, straight from the bottle. He bites into three strawberries, one after the other. He chases down the sweet fruit with another swig of alcohol. But the steak is what is satiating his hunger. The knife scrapes against the expensive plate over and over. He vigorously cuts into it and fills his greedy mouth with the salty flesh, a little blood dripping down his chin.

SDJ falls back on the bed after inhaling the meat and fruit. SDJ looks at the box again and opens his phone back to the picture you sent him. His cock stirs in his pants and he sighs. Another slug of Dom. Before he knows it the bow is undone and he’s staring inside at the seemingly random items neatly piled inside.

A bottle of lube, a ziploc bag containing something hot pink, and a pool noodle cut in half. Joel stares at the contents until his phone buzzes. A video. From you. He scrambles to open it and sees you, just you, and a foreign hand on your thigh. “Hey” you say simply and smile. Joel’s heart breaks at the sweet greeting and sweeter smile. “Hey” you say and smile again as he rewinds the video. “Hey” Joel says aloud to your paused face. How can you look so cute but absolutely filthy at the same time? He presses play.

“I hope you enjoyed your meal, it was very generous of him [Thighs Out] to get you your own room and an expensive dinner…his idea not mine.” You roll your eyes and look off camera. A chuckle off camera and a pat of your thigh from the unapendaged hand on your thigh. You look back at the camera.

“I miss you” you purr softly, your wide “fuck me” eyes looking into his as he strokes himself through his shorts. “I miss the fun we had before, and I know you do to.”

You roll over on your tummy, Thighs giving your ass a squeeze as he stands up and helps you turn over. He holds the phone the entire time, only getting a glimpse of his hand or leg when he stands up to point it at you landscape style. You turn your head and give another smile, this one far more devious than before. “By now you’ve probably opened the gift I sent you. If you want to fuck when we get home, this is what I want you to do. First, open the Ziploc bag.” Joel fell off the bed and scrambled for the bag, his cock bobbing up and down as he flopped back on the bed with the other box contents.

“Do they look familiar?” you wink. “They should, if not look at your pictures again.” Panties. They were your panties. Still slightly warm and damp when he pulls them out of the bag. “BUT-” you loudly say and Joel is brought back to reality. Panties halfway from the bag to his nose. “That’s your reward at the end. First, get out the pool noodle.” Joel inspects it. It’s a foam pool noodle about 10 inches long, the kind with the hole in the middle that you can find at any dollar store or water park. Joel looks to the pool noodle hole to the lube. Oh no, he thinks. No no no no no n-”

“Ohh fuck yes,” you whimper. Thighs is groping your ass and trying to also keep your face in view. “That feels good. I think you know what I want you to do. I want you to show me how hard you want to fuck me. How much you want to abuse this pussy with your dirty old man cock. Get that cock nice and ready for me. Please, Joel? Look how much I need it.” Your fingers lazily spread your slick folds open, dragging your middle finger up and down your seam. Eyes still on the camera, still on Joel who is lathering himself with lube, pants and underwear on the floor. You drag your finger out and hold out to Thighs, showing Joel how wet you are and how fast Thighs tongue attacks your finger. You pull it away and curve it in a “come hither direction”, eyes straight forward so it looks like your talking directly to him.

“Please,” your finger goes back to your center and you groan. “Fuck yourself like a good boy so we can fuck when we get home.

You got it baby, Joel says aloud. He shakes his head and grabs the noodle. Still doesn’t make this any less fucking weird, he thinks, but worth it. Worth it for her.

The rest of the video is you fucking yourself with your fingers, and when that’s not enough you’re handed a hairbrush offscreen. You’ve never done something so dirty. You feel possessed as orgasm after orgasm takes you over and you can’t even talk dirty. Your face has little beads of sweat clinging to it, your face screwed up in ecstacy as you feel the next orgasm hit, hairbrush fucking you while Thighs Out rolls your nipple in his hand, knowing it’ll make you come undone.

“J-joel,” you groan. “You feeling good, Joel? Like watching me like this? I’m a fucking mess. I just know that cock of yours is ready for me. Are you getting ready for my slutty pussy, Joel?”

Joel gripped his phone with one hand and nodded even though you couldn’t see him. He squeezed more lube onto himself. He sighed and slowly brought the pool noodle down on his cock. The cheap foam made his dick itch a little but he powered through. His hips buck up and fuck the noodle, matching the rhythm of you fucking yourself with the hairbrush. Joel felt close to cumming, but still so far away from you. He wondered what you were doing now since the video wasn’t live. He paused it on your face, eyes closed and mouth open. You deserve more than just an embarrassing jerk off session in room alone. The fact was he was extremely horny and even lonlier. A dangerous combination. Joel swipes out of the homemade video and opens Snapchat. He exhales through his nose and grips the pool noodle.

“Not even half way done with the video and you’ve already got me close” he murmers, his phone pointing down at pool noodle fucking his cock. “Like making me look like a fool? Like a desperate old man fucking a pool noodle all by himself?” He ends the video when he hears his voice start to break. But the trooper he is Joel keeps fucking the pool noodle and sending you snap after snap of the sordid scene. He alters from fucking the noodle to fucking his own hand. Precum drips down his thick fingers. He flips the camera around and his fingers slide in his mouth, groaning your name as he pushes the fingers further in and out. He moans LOUD and keeps stuffing his fingers in his mouth while jerking off. The pool noodle is moving faster, and Joel can’t hold it in anymore. He pumps his cock with the cheap foam toy one last time, and you see, while watching the snaps with Thighs Out, the tip of his dick peeking out the top and rope after rope shoots out. “I-I love you baby,” Joel gasps as he climaxes. “I’ll do anything you want.”

You thought that would be it, and he’d try to come crawling back to your room that night. But Joel stays in the room all night sending you dozens of snaps of either his cock fucking his hand “still just wishing it was your soft skin on me” or his face while jerking off. He orgasms at least four more times that night based on the snaps you recieve. After the latest video just of Joel chanting your name and humping the bed, his dry spend mixing with the warm, fresh load that cake the sheets, you shake your head.

“We should have gotten him more water.” you say to Thighs after your stepdad’s last climax.

“Should have gotten him another pool noodle,” Thighs grins. The man was such a menace.

“Seriously! Here’s another one!” you yell, gesturing for Thighs to look. His gold chain glints in your eye when he leans down over you to watch your phone.

“Damn,” Thighs mutters to himself. Baby please let me worship your tits (cherry emoji)!! The video caption says while Joel moans your name. “He can really cum. Knows how to work the camera too”

“Liking what you see?” you jokingly purr, rubbing his bare chest as your own arousal builds up.

“No, no, it’s just…wow. It’s just so much cum, especially for his age. It’s really not a bad skill to have.”

You burst out laughing. “For who?! A horny firefighter??”

Thighs smiles, “No… a different profession. Or for some more of a hobby.”

You raise your eyebrow and stare. “What the hell are you saying?”

Thighs scribbles a woman’s name and a phone number on a napkin. “When you go back to your room tonight, or tomorrow morning,” Thighs gives you a wink. “Make sure you give this to him. Tell him to..just go with it. I could make him some good money.”

“Are you going to tell me what the hell this is?” you ask.

“It’s just an old friend. She helped me out when I needed some fun, easy work.” Thighs grins.

When you’re back in the room packing the next morning, (hell yeah you spent the night with Thighs), you do a quick google search of the number and name. A website called “Dire Desires” is at the bottom of the screen, with a matching name and number under contact information. It’s listed as an online business, and when you click on the link a wave of tits and larger than life dicks take over your phone screen. “Solo, happy ending, maintenance man fantasy, Stockholm Syndrome Sluts…” all these and more titles fill the screen and your stomach drops.

This is an amateur porn company. And Thighs Out is a fucking genius.

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

Toxic: 👏👏 Bravo, awesome conclusion. HELL YEAH we spent the night with Thighs!!!! At the end I almost thought Thighs was recruiting him to the brothel lmao. I think stepdad would be an excellent candidate for solo male porn. And I like their porn themes too. (shout-out to maintenance man by @gracieispunk and my Stockholm readers, raider and vampire). Love what you did with all the cum. Thighs is right, SDJ knows how to work the camera too.

Sorry for stepdad's latest fic making you feel bad for torturing him lol but he was desperate to get his audience favorability ratings up and he's happy someone feels bad for him 😅

Ty for asking about the kinks I kept thinking but was blanking 😫 this was great!

P.s. I just remembered about the Easter egg, is gilf-sub some type of maintenance man 🤯

[in1-nutshell]

Can i request mtmte Simpatico, the youngling, getting kidnapped by the djd? What would happen? Will they survive?

I nearly had to do a double take reading this. Poor little Simpatico...

Hope you enjoy!

Simpatico's encounter with the DJD

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Slight Angst, Cybertronian reader

MTMTE

Simpatico, like every bot, had a bad habit that they couldn’t seem to shake off.

Some of the habits were more manageable, like Rung’s sweet tooth for rust sticks.

Other habits were a bit more ingrained, like Brainstorm and Perceptor’s time in the lab affecting their sleep schedule.

Simpatico’s habit was a strange one.

They could sleep at will anywhere at any time.

From sleeping in the vents to sleeping on top of Chromedome’s shoulders.

It also didn’t help that they were THE heaviest sleeper on the ship.

At Swerve’s… Simpatico was drinking some of their energon while talking to Chromedome and Whirl. Whirl: “I don’t believe you.” Simpatico: “You don’t think I can?” Whirl: “I bet…” Whirl quickly looked around. Whirl: “If you really sleep on command, I’ll personally get some of those energon goodies that Brainstorm has.” Simpatico thinks for a minute. Simpatico: “And pray tell, how are you going to do that.” Whirl swings an arm around Chromedome. Whirl: “That’s why Chromedome’s here.” Chromedome: “Wait what? I didn’t agree to this.” Whirl: “Too late. You in Sim—” SLAM! Simpatico’s face hit the bar counter, their entire frame suddenly going lax, with soft snores following. Whirl blinks. Whirl: “I did not see that coming.” Chromedome sighs as he carefully scoops up Simpatico in his arms. They were still sound asleep in the mechs arms. Chromedome: “Just wait until they wake up in a couple of hours. You better have those goodies.” Whirl: “And like I said, that’s why you’re here.” Chromedome: “…I should have stayed in the habsuite with Rewind…”

It had been a stressful couple of weeks on the Lost Light.

The ship was getting repairs on one of the engines from some large space debris.

The lab was getting washed after Brainstorm decided to experiment with some sort organic slime and to make a long story short, the slime had some corrosive properties.

Because of this experiment, it caused a fight between Brainstorm and Perceptor.

Leaving poor Simpatico confused and alone.

Brainstorm: “I say we move it back!” Perceptor: “We have to move it forward!” Brainstorm shoving his helm into Perceptor’s helm harshly. Brainstorm: “Back!” Perceptor pushes Brainstorm back with his helm. Perceptor: “Forward!” Brainstorm: “Back!” Perceptor: “Forward!” Simpatico: “Can I say something?” Both mechs look angrily at them. Brainstorm and Perceptor: “NO!” Simpatico: “…I’m just going to go see what Chromedome’s doing now…”

After the worse of the fight the two mechs refused to talk to each other.

Simpatico couldn’t sleep at night after that fight.

A whole 2 weeks later and the youngling was running on fumes.

Thank Primus for caffeinated energon.

But even that was starting to lose its effects.

Eventually after doing an inspection around the lower deck, Simpatico saw a lovely, quiet crate with their name on it.

They crawled inside the empty crate and turned off their comm line.

If someone wanted to get them, they were going to have to come downstairs and get them.

The youngling was out like a light.

A trap door underneath one of the floor panels slowly opens. Out comes out the leader of the DJD, Tarn, Tesarus, and Kaon. Kaon: “I didn’t think that would work.” Tarn: “Well it didn’t. We were supposed to enter to the upper deck. Not the lower deck!” Tesarus just looks around and spots some crates. Tarn: “How are we supposed to offline Megatron without triggering the alarms and making a scene!?” Tesarus: “Why wouldn’t we want to trip the alarm?” Tarn: “Because I don’t want a certain minibot to slap my helm right up my—” Tesarus grabs the crate with Simpatico. Tesarus: “Let’s just take this crate and think of a new plan later. Helex and Vos are going to beam us any minute now.” Tarn: “That’s… not a bad idea. Forgive me for the shouting.” Tesarus: “Please, after you Tarn, Kaon.” The DJD members slipped back into the floor panel and teleported back to their ship, flying fast and far away from the Lost Light. Somewhere on the ship… Chromedome suddenly gets the chills. Rewind: “You okay?” Chromedome: “Something just happened… Something bad…”

Back on the DJD’s ship…

The team was currently getting the scolding of a lifetime.

Why?

Because Kaon opened the crate revealing a sleeping youngling.

A youngling blissfully unaware that they were currently with the most feared group of Decepticon’s in the universe.

The mech’s were surprised to see a seemingly unaligned bot sleeping in the crate, and one that was a heavy sleeper.

They began to discuss what they were going to do with the youngling when Nickle came in and saw the youngling.

Tarn is still not sure how the youngling did not wake up from Nickle’s scolding.

She swiftly told them to get the youngling to somewhere safe and where they could call for help.

Tarn tried to reason with the minibot, but her word was law.

… and the last time he went against her word, Tarn found several sharp ended bolts up… some rather uncomfortable places…

The ship hadn’t even docked on the nearest planet before Tarn kicked the crate off the ship.

The crate bounce around the dusty terrain before coming to a full stop.

Simpatico was still sound asleep.

Meanwhile on the Lost Light… Most of the scientist and engineers are looking around the clock for any sign for Simpatico’s signal. Brainstorm was in the lab getting some weapons in top shape, getting ready for any battle that could come. Perceptor is on the main deck with the officers. Rodimus: “What do you think the DJD could have been doing on the lower decks?” Megatron: “Probably for an ambush.” Rodimus: “But why take Simpatico?” Magnus notices Perceptor flinching a bit. Magnus: “Rodimus—” Megatron: “There could be a number of reasons why.” Magnus: “Megatron please—” Megatron: “For example, hostage situation, but they would have broadcasted something by now.” Rodimus: “What about an exchange?” Magnus: “Both of you—” SLAM! Perceptor slams his servo on the desk. Perceptor: “SHUT IT!” Everyone: “…” Perceptor sighs heavily: “Our priority right now is finding Simpatico. Not to guess what they… they are…” PING! Perceptor’s neck turns so quickly half the bots int eh room are convinced he snapped it. It was a video call from Brainstorm. He opens the call. Perceptor: “Brainstorm what have you—" Brainstorm: “I FOUND THEM!”

One of the tracking devices Simpatico still hadn’t picked out gave the Lost Light a location was to look.

Everyone knew it wasn’t wise to get their hopes up.

They all knew what the DJD was capable of.

It didn’t take them long to get to the planet.

The crew was half expecting Tarn to be out in the open with his team, but there was no sign of the Cons anywhere.

Perceptor and Brainstorm were one of the first ones out of the ship.

The crew looked around for a bit, all of edge in case of an ambush.

Perceptor was the one who found the dinged-up crate.

The pair slowly walked to it.

There seemed no sign of the crate being tampered with or an explosive attached to it.

Brainstorm’s servos shook as he slowly opened the lid of the crate.

The pair was mentally preparing themselves to find their sparklings remains.

But no, Simpatico was there, completely unharmed sleeping.

Simpatico slowly opening their optics. They look up to see a distraught Perceptor and crying Brainstorm. They slowly start blinking the sleep from their optics and slowly get up. Suddenly they get yanked upwards, and two chassis start squishing them. Simpatico: “Stormy? Percy? What’s going on?” They feel something wet falling down their helm. They don’t know which one is crying harder. Probably both. Simpatico: “Guys?” The crying continues. The youngling temporarily gives up and gently rubs circles on their parents’ servos in comfort. Whatever just happened it must have spooked them badly if Perceptor was openly crying with Brainstorm.

When they get to the ship, Brainstorm puts more tracking devices on Simpatico’s plating.

Perceptor hovers around Simpatico for 2 weeks.

His partner does it for 2 months straight before Chromedome and Rewind had to step in.

Simpatico was temporarily not allowed to go around the ship by themselves without a trusted bot with them.

Whirl is banned from this list.

The youngling also gets more sleep studies done.

Simpatico, seen here sleeping while everyone is loosing their minds