#posts and runs away

[anomalyaly]

Golden

[AO3/Wattpad]

Sebastian had always been told that he loved too much, but he had never expected to be loved as much in return OR A fluffy oneshot of how Sebastian and Elsie spent Valentine's Day together.

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags: SFW, Fluff, established relationship, Sebastian is spiraling but that's nothing new

Sebastian had always been told he loved too much.

When he was three, he grew attached to a wild mooncalf that was frequently spotted near their family home. The impulsive little toddler that he was, he had approached it too quickly in his excitement and spooked it. The mooncalf never returned after that, and he cried and cried, even as his parents tried to reassure him that wild animals are meant to roam free. Anne made fun of him, but Sebastian loved that mooncalf.

When he was five, he hit Anne when she teased him for making her a card out of noodles and parchment. He had tried to show his sister how much he loved her, and it broke his little heart that she had resorted to taunting, tossing his present to the floor, and stomping on it. He felt bad that he made her cry, especially when he saw how much it disappointed his parents and how much it hurt her. He never hit her again.

When he was seven, he didn’t cry when his parents died, not because he didn’t love them, but because he needed to be strong for Anne when they were being uprooted from their family home and moved to their Uncle Solomon’s cottage in Feldcroft. He would do anything for Anne, even if it meant hiding his tears until he was alone, in the quiet and the dark, with nobody around to hear. Solomon would punish him for it, but he couldn’t stop him from loving.

And when she was cursed years later, love was what led him to search the darkest corners of the earth for something, anything that would stop the universe from taking away the person he had sacrificed everything for.

Still, it hadn’t been enough. And his twin had abandoned him anyway, a consequence of his Unforgivable choices.

Just like that mooncalf.

Somewhere in the midst of it all, during his fifth year, a small glimmer of hope entered his life in the form of a Ravenclaw girl with a soft heart and kind eyes. And as time went on, that glimmer almost too suddenly burst into a roaring flame that he had been more than happy to burn from.

Yet she had given him the worst possible answer to his question.

“I’m not a fan of big gestures,” Elsie said as she took a bite of her breakfast. “I’d rather do something simple.”

He had asked her what she wanted to do for Valentine’s Day.

“A trip to Hogsmeade?” He offered. “Or we could fly out to the coast. Or,” Sebastian grinned wryly, “there’s a rather interesting tomb nearby. We could —“

“Sebastian.” She took his hand in both of hers and smiled softly. “I’m content as long as I get to spend it with you. Besides, Valentine’s Day wasn’t a widely celebrated holiday in my family. It was considered vulgar.” She paused. “Hang on — did you say tomb?!”

“Merlin, if I had known that was what would get you going —“

“No!” Sebastian laughed at the blush on her face. “I only meant that I hope you were joking.”

Sebastian shrugged, still smiling mischievously. If taking her to a tomb for an adventure was what she wanted, he would have taken her to five hundred tombs.

It was clear that wasn’t how Elsie wanted to spend Valentine’s Day by the look she was giving him.

“How do Muggles back at your home celebrate anyway?” he asked.

She scoffed and rolled a potato on her plate with her fork. “They send extravagant love letters with decoupage.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Old bits of postcards and paper glued together?” She chomped down on the potato slice. “It sounds innocent until someone sends cuttings of their undergarments. Or worse, if one receives a Vinegar Valentine.”

Before Sebastian could even wonder what that was, she said, “A hate letter.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I can assure you that I won’t be sending you a hate letter or my undergarments.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Unless—“

“No.” She sighed, and he tried to hold back another laugh. “Simple Valentine’s Day, please. If we have to celebrate, that’s all I ask.”

That had been days ago, and he still hadn’t understood what she had meant by ‘simple.’ The boy who loved too much didn’t know anything besides large, over-dramatic gestures of affection. It wasn’t possible for him to give anything less than…everything.

Sebastian, it’s too much.

You’ve gone too far.

You need to stop.

Hours upon hours of circling, pacing Elsie’s Room of Requirement, meditating on the words spoken to him so many times before in his life by the people he cared about. He had finally settled on setting up a picnic in her favorite Vivarium, the permanent autumn leaves the perfect backdrop for a romantic evening with no one else but the two of them.

Would she hate him for it? Criticize his extravagance? He had spent a pretty galleon on the bouquet of roses. And she didn’t even particularly care for plants. Maybe, like Anne all those years ago, she would laugh in his face and toss his present at his feet, insisting that it was all too much and refuse to speak to him again, too embarrassed by how much he loved her.

He loved her.

If only love didn’t make him hurt so much.

He wondered if she felt the same way when she told him she loved him. If she experienced that same aching pain as he did in the depths of his heart, suffocatingly strong that it kept him up at night, struggling to breathe when he was away from her. He had always felt too strongly, but this…

The noises in his head grew to an agonizing clamor, the roaring that he could never seem to silence when he was alone, voices that would remind him that he was a murderer, that he was unlovable, irredeemable —

“Sebastian?”

And then, it all went quiet.

Elsie stalked up the hill in her Vivarium toward him. “I saw you from the entrance. You left me this note— “ She gasped. “What…what’s all this?”

Sebastian shifted from side to side, suddenly forgetting what he was supposed to be doing with his hands. He gestured to the picnic spread behind him. “I…w-well, you said you wanted simple.”

“Did…” She blinked at him, still not moving from her spot. “Did you do all of this?”

She hates it.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut, pushing back the headache that was starting to bloom between them. “I’m sorry, Elsie. I don’t know how to do simple. I know it’s too much, but I don’t know how to show you I care any other way, and I go too far every time, and I—“

“Stop.” He hadn’t realized she was standing right in front of him until she pulled his hands away from his face and cupped his cheek. “It’s perfect.”

“You —“ He gaped. “You like it?”

She giggled and stroked his hair, and he melted at her touch. “I love it. This is exactly what I wanted.”

“It’s not…too much?”

I’m not too much?

Elsie shook her head, still smiling from ear to ear. “I think the word ‘simple’ was probably a bad choice on my part. Honestly, you could have arranged a coordinated dance performed by Hippogriffs and I would have still appreciated it. It was never about the gesture, really.”

Sebastian smirked. “I could— “

“Maybe not that,” she interrupted before he could get any ideas, “I…I was being selfish. I only meant to ask to have you all to myself today. No Hogsmeade or adventure or big presents and parties, just…you.”

“Well if that’s all you wanted,” he beamed as he watched the blush creep up her cheeks, “you should have just said that.”

Just me. She just wants me.

She laughed, the sound bright and musical, and he wished he could turn back time just long enough to hear it on repeat forever. He pressed a light kiss to her forehead and savored every ounce of happiness radiating from her.

Sebastian used to believe that love was passion, raging, all-consuming. It was a wildfire that devoured everything in its path, taking all that he had to give and begging for more — hot, intense, greedy. But standing here, wrapped in Elsie’s embrace, he realized that he was wrong.

Passionate and intense, yes, but something softer — not fire, burning and taking and destroying, but light, golden and warm, bathing him in its glow and welcoming him home. Sebastian had always been told that he loved too much, but he had never expected to be loved as much in return.

Calm washed over him as he kissed her, his mind finally quieting from the earlier darkness that had been circling his thoughts. And when their lips parted, he refused to stray too far, holding her close to him as he rested his forehead against hers.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Elsie.”

She wrapped her arms around him, her eyes fluttering closed, her face still radiating the joy that he wanted to spend all of eternity enveloped by.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Sebastian.”

Not too much. Just enough.

[meteoraolive]

Magic middle age men yaois 🦇🦋

[dixons-sunshine]

Sneak peek to a fic I'm working on:

(Warnings! Some suggestive content.)

“Nah, I can't.” Daryl's words rung through the air as his breathing became more erratic. Although he was steadfast in his denial to your gracious request, his fingers tightened their hold on your hips. “I haven't drunk from a person in years. Wha' if I can't stop?”

“That won't happen,” you told him reassuringly, your fingers gently working through his hair. “I trust you. You'll know when to stop.”

Daryl inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as his self-restraint started to dwindle. “But, Gabriel's here. He's gon' hear everythin',” he mumbled, lowering his head to rest on your shoulder. “Ya've heard me when I feed on animals. Increase tha' by ten when it comes to human blood. He's gon' tell Deanna and m'gonna be kicked out, maybe even killed.”

“Well,” you began with a seductive smirk, pulling back, moving your hands down to grip the edge of your shirt and tugging it over your head, leaving your upper body completely bare to your partner's now lustful gaze. “I guess you need some motivation to stay quiet, huh?”

Daryl let out a shuddered breath, his eyes trailing over your body. “Wha' do ya have in mind.”

Your smirk widened slightly. Your hands moved to the back of his head, your eyes alight with mischief as your idea came out to play. “I'm gonna give you what you told me was your favourite thing and pair it with feeding you,” you began, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his lips before pulling back. “This.” Without even giving him time to process your words, you gently yet firmly brought his face down to your boobs, stuffing his face between them. “Drink.”

[vixenihy]

Late Night Guilt

Summary: A few months after the Cuban Missile Crisis, Jack is still facing the stressful aftermath and his survivors guilt from the war certainly isn’t helping either. Just when he feels he’s out of luck, someone he loves dearly is there to help.

Tags/Notes + Pairing: jfk x jackie kennedy, hurt/comfort?, swearing, mentions of past infidelity, antiquated beliefs about emotions, stress, anxiety.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: this is my first fic! i’m not super experienced with writing jackie, i fear. but i noticed that there aren’t any jfk x jackie fics so i wanted to change that. i love these two, lol. the indents may be a bit off bc i wrote this on my phone and used the spacebar as substitutes for indents… sorry lol. the banner was made by me, and the border below belongs to @/menschenopfer !

God Damnit…

Jack lets out a quiet groan of frustration, biting his cheek and hoping that the interviewer didn’t hear him. He’d forgotten to take the medication for managing his nerves. Not like he can remember what it’s called, though. There's too many names to even begin to remember what the Hell it’s called.

The past few months have been nothing but stress; Paper after paper and interview after interview. It’s a total mess, and it’s his fault. The Cuban Missile Crisis was the closest the world came to ending; but who started this beginning to the end? Well, Jack blames no one but himself. He can barely resist the urge to tap his teeth with his fingers in front of the camera focusing on his face.

“Mr. President, after the close call with the Soviet Union and Cuba, a handful of Americans are curious about your story that led to you earning your Purple Heart. We know there is a movie coming out later this year, but would you care to give a little of your own personal perspective?” The interviewer asks. Jack clenches his jaw and tightly interlocks his fingers as a heavy pang hits his heart. The last thing Jack wants to be reminded of is the people who he failed to protect, the two people who died because of him. He can feel the guilt eating away at him as he speaks, his voice just as calm as his face.

“Oh, there isn’t much to say. They sank my boat, and we were stranded for a while. Then with the help of some of the natives, the Navy came and saved me and my crew.” Jack explains calmly, ignoring the burning hot fire, hours of pulling men to the boat, screaming the names of the men he’d lost till daybreak. The swimming, vomiting, starvation, the close calls with death, and the terrible guilt he faces to this day. He left out all of it. No one will know how he felt that day, because Kennedys don’t show how they feel. A real Kennedy never cracks.

Jack snaps back to reality just as the interviewer finishes scribbling his notes.

“Thank you Mr. President.”

—————

“Bunny, it’s okay if you want to talk…You know I'm here for you, don’t you?” Jackie presses as she helps to massage her husband's back. Usually, she wouldn’t press too much into his day and his issues as she believed it wasn’t right to bring up the stress of the day right after it had ended, but Jackie noticed how stressed he looked and how upset he seemed to be when she saw a glimpse of him when he was alone. It worries her. And though he had hurt her in the past with his philandering behavior, she knows why he acts the way he does and how he’s doing his best to change. So, she decides to focus on the future rather than the past.

“I know, Jackie…But I'm fine. It’s just that work is stressful. That’s all.” Jack sighs, laying his head in his arms and closing his eyes as Jackie helps to work the stress out of his body. He wishes that he could tell Jackie all about his day and vent his frustrations, but he finds himself biting his tongue. Men don’t talk about their feelings, especially not a Kennedy man. He can hear his parents chastising him in the back of his mind for even having such a thought. So, he just decides to let it go and switch the conversation.

“Thank you for helping me with my back, Kid…It’s been killing me for the past month. I think picking up Caroline at Christmas really aggravated it.” He continues, turning his head back ever so slightly to look at her. Jackie looks so beautiful with the dim lamp shining behind her, illuminating her figure like an angel. He doesn’t deserve her, how did he get so lucky?

“It’s alright, Jack. You certainly made her day.” She whispers with a chuckle, glancing into his faded green eyes and watching them spark with life, the Jack Kennedy she knows and loves seems to finally come to life.

——

The crackle of fire and the smell of oil taints the air as Jack slowly opens his eyes, groaning in agony as his back spasms. He goes to grab the nightstand, but only finds a cold metal surface beneath his hand. He stumbles as he pulls himself into a standing position, opening his eyes at last. His heart drops as he realizes where he is. He’s over a thousand miles from home, he’s in the same place he fought like Hell to escape from, he’s back.

The South Pacific.

Following the same routine he’s done a hundred times before, Jack leaps off the side of the creaking bow and swims out towards the voices of his crew. They scream and cry out for their skipper and their mothers, a haunting sound he’s listened to too many times before. Just as he’s about to reach one man, he sees a head disappear below the waves. Gasping with fear, Jack dives below the waves and claws his way downwards, the darkness of the sea making it impossible for Jack to see the face of the man he’s trying to save. But just as he reaches out, he slips out of his reach. And he helplessly watches the figure disappear into the dark abyss.

Jack awakes with a start, jolting to find himself back in the luxurious bedroom he’s lived in for the past few years. He sits up gently, bringing himself back to the present with a deep sigh. Attempting to alleviate his back pain, Jack brings his knees to his chest and lies his head on his arms. A tightness settles in his heart as guilt festers in his mind. He forces back a few tears as he remembers one of the hardest experiences of his life. Just before any tears begin to break through, he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Jack?” Jackie asks groggily, confused to see her husband awake so late. “What’s the matter, Bunny?” Wiping his eyes with his hand, Jack lies down onto his back.

“It’s nothing, Jackie. Just a bad dream is all…” He sighs, turning over onto his side.

“Go back to sleep, Kid. It’s alright..” Jack mutters. But before he can allow himself to drift off, he feels Jackie's arms wrap around him and hold him close to her body. At first, he seems uncomfortable by the touch his wife is giving him. It feels so foreign and uncomfortable. But as the seconds pass, he finds himself warming up to it…

“Maybe we can get away to Hyannis Port on Saturday. No press, no people, no work…Just us. It’ll be cold, but I think you need a break.” Jackie suggests, placing a kiss on her husband's neck and rubbing her thumb over his hand.

“I love you, Bunny.” She sighs, cuddling closer to Jack.

“I love you too, Jackie.” Jack smiles, shutting his eyes and slowly drifting off to sleep.

[covett-lovett]

Uhmm.. I had kitaroo thoughts in the shower. I haven’t written in a while so if it’s ass… oops. ~~~~~~ “Now why are ya standing on the shelf? You can reach my head just fine from the floor luv” Kangaroo mused as small, quick fingers rubbed shampoo into his scalp. Sharing the shower wasn’t an experience foreign to either of them, but this time, Kat was stood on the shower shelf while she washed her boyfriend’s long hair. The woman only mumbled as a response, garnering a quiet chuckle from the man. “Oh I see.. little lady thinks she’s pow’rful like this…”

Before Kat could even think of a response, she let out a shriek as she was suddenly lifted from the shelf, her feet dangling in the air. “Wha-“ She looked down at her boyfriend who was holding her up, his chin pressed against her stomach with a shit eating grin. “Idiot- if you slip we’ll both probably die” Kangroo simply shrugged before turning. Kat shivered as her back suddenly hit the cold shower tiles. “Still feel powerful up there?” She scoffed at his muse. “Yeah. I could wrap my legs around that scrawny neck of yours and flip you”

Kangaroo hummed. “We’ll see about that” He shifted her thighs onto his shoulders, keeping her in the air as he kissed his way down her stomach, lower.. lower

[hippolotamus]

Fuck it Friday 🥃

Tagged by @honestlydarkprincess (welcome back babe!) @buckaroosheart @wikiangela @spagheddiediaz Thank you lovelies!

Today I got a hit of inspiration for my OC work (prev snippet here) This was supposed to be the moment Sam(antha) spots Anna for the first time, but then we made friends with the bartender first 🤷🏻 anyways I hope you like it 😘

The bartender is clad in a hot pink short-sleeve crop top that exposes abs I’ve only ever dreamed of, and glittery gold short shorts that barely cover their ass. Sparkly eyeshadow highlights violet irises, adding to the sass of the outfit that contrasts with dark chocolate skin and nearly black hair cut close to the skin. They exude an enviable sense of confidence, an aura that seems to naturally draw people closer.  It makes me wonder if the crowds even know why they’re flocking to the bar. If they intended to get another beer or cocktail, or if they simply couldn’t resist the pull of the shimmering god slinging drinks. My more than three decades of low self esteem withers, but not before laughing at me for being afraid of speaking to another human.  “I promise I don’t bite!” They yell over the music, sending me a playful wink. “Unless you want me to. But that’s for after hours only.” Their straightforward attitude, coupled with my inability to form a response, makes me immediately want to be swallowed up by a spontaneous sinkhole. To my disappointment, the floor remains solidly beneath my feet.  With an exasperated sigh, they roll their eyes and lean in closer. “Beer?” Finally, a question I can answer. “No. Never liked the stuff.” They nod, as if taking mental notes. “Okay then, sweet, sour or strong?” “Fruity. And strong. Surprise me.” They raise an eyebrow at that, as though questioning whether I know what I’m saying, before they flip a glass from behind the counter and begin pouring from various bottles like a sorcerer.  “Here.” They push the concoction my way, waiting expectantly. I tentatively lift it, sniffing to see if I can make out any of its ingredients. Before I can, the glass is being tipped toward me, liquid spilling over my lips, most of it splashing on my tongue and some dribbling down my chin. It burns going down my throat at first, making me cough and splutter. But then it settles to something mild and pleasant, like drinking a spiced apple pie.  “You’re welcome,” the bartender says. “I know your type. Too sheltered, too indecisive and afraid of making a mistake. You needed a push.” They shrug as if they haven’t just come for my entire life in one breezy statement. “So I pushed."

no pressure tagging mi amor @disasterbuckdiaz @jamespearce9-1-1 @callmenewbie @giddyupbuck @buddierights @spotsandsocks @daffi-990 @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @exhuastedpigeon @lemonzestywrites @steadfastsaturnsrings @malewifediaz @loserdiaz @heartshapedvows @underwater-ninja-13 @fortheloveofbuddie @eowon @stereopticons @apothecarose @blackandwhiteandrose LOML @lizzie-bennetdarcy @jesuisici33 @monsterrae1 @shortsighted-owl @elvensorceress @chaosandwolves @wildlife4life @your-catfish-friend @911onabc @the-likesofus @barbiediaz @pirrusstuff @gayedmundodiaz @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @statueinthestone and anyone else who wants to 💖

[falon-fen]

-Edit- *GOING TO BE REPLACED WHEN I’M NOT BEING LAZY* I’ve renamed this playlist when OC brain rot took over.

This is probably only my third post ever and I have like 2 followers (affectionate) but I have read sooooo many great IF/VN’s lately that it inspired me to make a playlist. Just something to listen to while I’m reading that I figured I’d share. Some songs I correlate to specific stories and characters (feel free to ask) but overall, it’s just lots of angst. I’ll continue to add to this in the future. Please, don’t judge my poor music taste or If this post doesn’t come out correctly. I am “old”. 

[sewersaga]

ytimn oc ship art

[sf-bl]

So, this image set is my attempt at drawing a scene from chapter 41 of the fantastic Lost and Found by @caffeinatedowlbear: the moment close to the chapter's end when Rhys finds himself looking at Jack across the table. Please excuse my lack of expressive words for why I loved that moment of looking so much. Due to brain weather, I can't decide which version(s) of the images to include here. As a workaround I'm going to post them all. Here goes:

And also:

A Jack for the road.

Let the degree of picspam signify how much I've enjoyed this universe and its exploration of the characters. That is: a lot.

[madaqueue]

18+ MDNI - f!reader (nasty freak boy who cums too early...i love him)

virgin!satoru who thinks he’s going to die. genuinely, he thinks his heart is about to explode out of his chest and his last memory will be the way you stare down at him with those lust-blown eyes and that awe-struck smile. why else would he be shaking like this, covered in a layer of sweat and lightheaded to the point his vision is swirling?

“are you ready, satoru?” is the only thing he can make out above the ringing in his ears - how can he tell you he only has a few moments to live when your legs are spread like this and he’s so hard it fucking hurts?

virgin!satoru who is the farthest fucking thing from ‘ready’ but he’d rather die than disappoint you, so he’s at least got to try.

with an unsteady hand he swipes the tip of his cock up and down your slit, watching the way the light sparkles with how wet you are, for him.

“you can put it in, baby,” and he fucking groans, he can barely look at you when you talk to him like that, all syrupy sweet and thick and dripping.

virgin!satoru who finally, finally, pushes himself past your entrance. his eyes are locked on the way you swallow his length, the way he’s so hot he can’t breathe, can’t get enough air in because it all smells like you.

virgin!satoru who cums before he even bottoms out. he’s trembling and whining and it only gets worse when your hands find his shoulders and pull him into you.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, fuck-”

“it’s okay,” you coo, and he’s so fucking warm, and he’s grateful he can’t see the smile on your face because he thinks it might actually make his heart stop.

virgin!satoru who straightens his back, slowly pulls his cock out of you and watches in awe as his cum leaks down your thighs, who can’t stop himself from smearing it through your folds with his thumb, who doesn’t miss the way your pussy clenches as he does.

virgin!satoru who’s already hard again, who no longer cares if he’s dying because this must be heaven, who stares back at you with wild, unfocused eyes as he says, “i think…i think i’m ready now.”

a/n: i think i blacked out from lust writing this

[saltwatersweets]

i wish i could put into words how much everything about this small bit absolutely FASCINATES me. the way that shadow milk seems almost guilty or sad by something, and then immediately doubles down and becomes work with a sick grin on his face. the way he is so clearly projecting himself onto pure vanilla (does he believe his entire life before his corruption to hold no value? does he view THAT life as a lie?) the way he wants pure vanilla to be just as ruined as he is, to BECOME him… their dynamic is so twisted in all the best possible ways.

[wardingshout]

ALTTP december warm ups and doodling (and one from today, happy new year)

[soapcloth]

CW: 18+ MDNI, mech!ghost x pilot!reader, scifi, noncon/dubcon elements, guided masturbation, temperature play, voyeurism - 1.6K words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

Another long night in the cockpit.

You could only grin and bear it at this point. Reaching compatibility with your assigned vessel was slowly eating away at your psyche- and worst of all, you couldn’t even leave; not when your prospected affinity levels with the infamous machine had been deemed unprecedented, and certainly not when you knew what happened to deserters.

Conscription was non-negotiable these days; the large colony you had grown up in now ravaged by some otherworldly force and desperately bleeding out resources in response, be it weaponry, rations, or bodies.

The faction had been gifted the GH-05t Mech as an act of goodwill, but ask any official and you’d be informed that the powerful, unused machine would serve better as scrap parts- the real kicker being that they were no longer equipped with the resources or the manpower to dismantle the damned thing. 

GH-05t was a battle vessel; had been lauded as a ground-breaker and a boundary-pusher with the integration of an intelligent battle protocol system, all trained posthumously off the stored memories of some long-dead pilot, surely without his consent- Simon, they had named it in an attempt to make it more user friendly and assistant-like in nature.

Hubris. The system failed to run, turning the fully-functional mech into a glorified mountainous paperweight due to all of the instrumental functions being locked behind unresponsive intelligence. You speculated that the machine had passed hands to save face- to keep the public hopeful despite the system refusing to wake up.

-Wake up. You groaned, slapping lightly at your face.

You hated it here, longing for lazy days on the bleak outer walls, surrounded by the buzz of cicadas and rustling long grass as you waited for your father to get back from the drillsite. Your parents had been so proud when officials showed up at your dilapidated front porch, neat suits, shining eyes, and big smiles blissfully ignoring the very same surroundings they had left to rot;  all while you reeled internally- shaken by the worst news you had received in your life. It was a death sentence. 

It had been years since that day, and you were absolutely sure you had only been given a position like this because of some made-up numbers all while they tried to remind you that you were special, somehow different from your peers.

All damned to the same fate in your eyes.

“-load of shit.” you hissed, rubbing at the uncomfortable neuro-valve hooked into the back of your flight suit. Frustrated, you kicked at the mechanical console snug against your leg, the low rumbling whirr of the machine staying the same in response- apathetic to your misdirected rage. 

A moment passed before you finally leaned back in your seat with a grimace.

You still weren’t used to the flight suits in the mech pilot regs. You almost missed the starchy cargo pants that were worn throughout training- both had been unbearably stiff, but at least the latter hadn’t been so form-fitting.It always freaked you out a bit; the pilot suits were more akin to sleek exodermis, responsive and shock absorbent- It felt wrong to have something so foreign covering your entire body; unnatural. 

Your hips squirmed in the seat, friction suddenly becoming apparent the more you thought about it. The low tone of your monitored vitals raised gradually with the fuzzy heat beginning to shamefully pool in your gut; making you all too glad these late night bonding-sessions were done in an all but abandoned mech bay- your observed progress dwindling along with your prospects as time went on without result. 

Grinding into the seat, you swallowed back the thick saliva coating your mouth, teeth catching on your dry bottom lip as you held back a low, audible shudder; eyes fluttering shut. 

The bulky panel separating your legs became all too appealing as you acknowledged the press of it at your sealed cunt, nudging your apex into the blunt peak while your gloved hands curled around the padding of the built-in armrests.

Then, there was a pulse at your core. 

Eyes snapping open, you became all too aware that the sensation hadn’t come from your body. Straightening up in your seat you were met with a dull blinking text on the panel that had never been there before- 

‘Battle Intelligence System 

STATUS: LOADING’

You were rooted in place as you witnessed the glowing, digital bar slowly fill.

‘Battle Intelligence System 

STATUS: ONLINE’

You scrambled to pull at the neuro-valve connecting your suit to the mech, only for the small port’s flight locks to engage; a stark hiss emitting from the cockpit door’s airlock.

“Disengage locks.” you commanded, completely lost on what was happening. 

There was a low, fractured robotic groan directly in your comms “-Fuck…” the voice was deep, aggressively masculine and breathy in your ear- the sound holding more human emotion than you were prepared to rationalize. “Where am I?”

“-Disengage locks.” you repeated firmly. 

“The fuck is this?” he snarled, apparently coming to as he barked out questions, disoriented. “-Who are you- why are you in m’head- Fuck, why can’t I see?” 

Your suit was flexing and constricting, going haywire in the confusion. “C-calm down!” you stuttered, a pendulum in your head swinging between gripping dread and the low, heady heat of unmet needs. “Just-Just let me see if I can fix this.” 

Panting shakily, you swiped at the flight panel’s screen- spotting something containing the words ‘optical’ and ‘sensors’, you tapped frantically.

There was an audible wince deep in your ear, then a growling hum met with silence.

“M'dead, aren’t I?”

“-You’re a memory bank- not a person.” you asserted, clarification necessary when it came to a massive mobile death machine. ”C-Can you lay off the suit, please?”

A pulsing wave passed the length of your suit as he listened to your embarrassed response over the comms, the sound of his voice bouncing around in your head. “Fuck, bet tha’ feels nice, yeah?”

A whine bubbled at your lips before you could stop it. “I- You’re not l-listening, Simon.” 

There was a long silence following your plea- air electric and tense.

“Tha’ name- How do you know it?”

“N-not the point!” you argued, only to be met with a full body squeeze- a threat. “-It’s the name of the o-operating system! P-please!”

He relented, your chest heaving as your muscles released tension.

“Well, if you an'I are so close...”

The screen flashed with a notice. 

‘[Main Cockpit Camera Feed - Status: Active]’

Followed by another

‘[Manual Override - Feed Transmission Blocked]’

“-Keep things between us, yeah?” 

Your head swivelled around to look for a camera, landing on a lackadaisical red blink coming from right above the reinforced windshield.

“You're a sight, aren’t you?" listening closely, you could hear the audible scroll of the lens focusing.

You frowned. “Let me out-”

You gasped as a cold heat focused at your core, reminding you that your suit’s temperature regulating measures were completely under his control. “-No need for fuss, we were just getting t’know each other.”

“Th…” you paused, panting softly. “-This doesn’t make any sense.”

“What’s not to get, Love?” there was a pause as your seat adjusted forward, bumping your cunt into the console. “Give us a show, yeah?”

You whimpered in response, pressure unbearable.

“Look at you.” he snarled, the deep sound goading your rocking hips onward. “Fuck- Wish I could taste you…”

There was a small noise from the screen that had your heavy lids pulling upwards- database bringing up the low-res file of a soldier. 

“-Look at the man doing this to you, love.” 

Your lips parted, eyebrows drawing downwards in confusion as you looked at the attached image; a masked man with voids for pupils staring back at you.

“Y-You’re not-” you gasped as a concentrated cold rushed your breast, nipples pearling up uncomfortably at the sensation- the friction of your undergarments and the newly dropping temperatures sending your head soaring as your hips worked at grinding into the blunt metal. ”-not r-real.”

“-I am.” His voice was a sharp, humorous growl that threatened you to challenge his word, followed by a single deep laugh. “Eyes up- on me, love.”

Your head bobbed as you glanced lazily at the file, unable to make any sense of the written data- not that it mattered anyway.

“Think you can finish for me?”

The suit pulsed rhythmically as you practically humped your seat with eyes screwed shut, the humiliation of your current position itching at something unfamiliar deep in your abdomen. With flushed cheeks, you chased the bubbling pot that made a home in your gut; willing it to boil over.

 “Look at me.” he ordered. “Need y'to look at me.” 

Glancing at the screen in a haze, the exomuscles of your suit flexed in response.

“No- Up.”

your head shot towards the camera, holding contact with the whirring lens as the overstimulation finally became too much- pussy fluttering in euphoria with elbows bracing you, hips pathetically grinding out the high. 

Struggling to catch your breath, you slumped back into the chair- gears adjusting your seat back into a comfortable position.

“Good.” the voice in your ear barked, before lowering incrementally. “-Good…”

The screen lit up with a notice that compatibility requirements had been met- although it didn't mean much to you in your state; chest heaving slowly while you tried to make sense of what happened. 

“Gonna’ let you out- but this has got to stay our secret, yeah?” 

You swallowed, eyelids tugging open as your suit tensed in warning.

“How copy?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Good,” he paused. “-don't need anyone but you poking around up here.”

[fanaticalthings]

I want an AU where after Jason gets brought back to life, he channels his inner rage and turmoil into the academics instead of murder

Talia has like infinite money and a crap ton of influence, so she can absolutely get Jason the best tutors and can easily get him into the most prestigious schools if Jason wanted to (she doesn't need to do that though because Jason's just smart enough to get into them on his own)

The major he chooses? Med.

Why? Because Bruce dropped out of med school.

Jason practically flies through all the secondary education that he needs to catch up on and is already en route to earning his bachelor's AND his master's.

And it'd be so incredibly funny if the way Bruce and Jason reunite in this AU was purely by coincidence.

Bruce (as Brucie Wayne) offers to show up as a guest lecturer at Hudson University (the school Dick attended but dropped out of so double points for Jason), maybe to talk about future career paths and job positions at WE idk

So as Bruce is just wandering around the campus, he randomly bumps into a student and immediately puts on the Brucie act and is all "Oh my, I'm SO sorry, I'm just a klutz haha" only to stop dead silent when he makes eye contact with a very alive, very grown Jason Todd, who also stops dead in his tracks, mouth agape, staring at Bruce like the world's about to end

And before Bruce can get his thoughts straight, Jason just bolts out of there like his life depends on it, and Bruce is just in shambles for the rest of the day.

It doesn't help that the person giving Bruce the tour is all like "Oh yeah, that's Jason, he's one of the heads on our student council haha, anyways, this way, Mr. Wayne." and Bruce is just stood there bluescreening.

----

Alternatively, it'd be kinda funny if this all happened AFTER the events of UTRH where after the final encounter with Bruce and Joker and the whole explosion, Jason's just like "yk what, maybe I'm just gonna turn over a new leaf and pursue a higher education"

So while Gotham's still reeling from the aftermath of Jason's near takeover as the top crime lord and Bruce is still painstakingly trying to figure out where his son went, the whole time Jason's just been chilling on a school campus and Bruce just so happens to bump into his son (who, last time they met, tried to kill Bruce and blew up the building they were all in) and Jason's just all normal-looking with his textbooks and nerdy glasses and Bruce doesn't know whether to scream or cry.

[vantablackdraws]

real sleepy hours

bonuses:

[may12324]

💖 The Fairy Godmother’s Apprentice  - a sapphic fairy tale Visual Novel and Dating Sim. 💖

When the fairy godmother goes away on vacation leaving you in charge , will you make sure stories stay on their paths? or will you change your fate and risk it all for romance....

This is a fake dating game, its not real unfortunately. But maybe some day, in the future! I just love womens, and fairytales, and dating sims; so this is a culmination of all three! (with a fun emphasis on hot butch ladies, we need more of them okay! the mermaid is muscular and hot too okay, i swear).

Any Australian game devs wanna make this happen? Come at me, I’m ready to go batshit bananas working on this as a real game,.