#rubber flooring benefits

[unitedflooring]

Rubber Flooring for Indoor and Outdoor Sports Areas

Introduction

When it comes to creating the ideal sports environment, choosing the right flooring is crucial. Whether you're setting up a home gym, outfitting a commercial fitness center, or designing a multi-sport facility, rubber flooring offers a host of advantages that make it an excellent choice for both indoor and outdoor sports areas. In this blog, we'll explore gym flooring solutions and rubber flooring benefits, helping you understand why rubber is the go-to material for athletes and fitness enthusiasts alike.

Gym Flooring Solutions

1. Versatility and Adaptability Rubber flooring is incredibly versatile. It can be used in various settings, from weight rooms and cardio areas to basketball courts and outdoor training spaces. Its adaptability makes it a top choice for multi-sport facilities where different activities require specific flooring characteristics.

2. Easy Installation One of the standout gym flooring solutions is the ease of installation. Rubber flooring comes in tiles, rolls, and mats, allowing for quick and straightforward setup. Whether you're a DIY enthusiast or hiring professionals, installing rubber flooring is a hassle-free process.

3. Customization Options Rubber flooring is available in a wide range of colors, patterns, and thicknesses. This means you can customize your flooring to match the aesthetic of your gym or sports facility, creating an inviting and motivating environment for athletes.

4. Seamless Maintenance Maintaining rubber flooring is a breeze. Its non-porous surface makes it resistant to spills, stains, and moisture, which are common in gym settings. Regular sweeping and occasional mopping are usually enough to keep your flooring looking brand new.

Rubber Flooring Benefits

1. Durability and Longevity Rubber flooring is known for its durability. It can withstand heavy foot traffic, dropped weights, and high-impact activities without showing signs of wear and tear. This longevity makes it a cost-effective investment for any sports facility.

2. Safety First Safety is paramount in any sports environment, and rubber flooring excels in this area. Its slip-resistant surface reduces the risk of accidents, while its shock-absorbing properties help prevent injuries from falls and high-impact activities.

3. Comfort and Support Athletes appreciate the comfort provided by rubber flooring. Its cushioned surface reduces strain on joints and muscles, enhancing performance and reducing fatigue during workouts. This support is particularly beneficial for activities that involve running, jumping, and lifting.

4. Noise Reduction Rubber flooring's dense material helps dampen noise, creating a quieter workout environment. This is especially advantageous in gyms where multiple activities are taking place simultaneously. The noise reduction benefits extend to outdoor sports areas, where rubber flooring can minimize the sound of footsteps and equipment.

5. Eco-Friendly Choice Many rubber flooring products are made from recycled materials, making them an eco-friendly option. Choosing rubber flooring for your gym or sports area not only benefits the athletes but also contributes to environmental sustainability.

Indoor and Outdoor Applications

Indoor Sports Areas Rubber flooring is ideal for indoor sports areas such as basketball courts, volleyball courts, and fitness studios. Its resilience and traction enhance athletic performance, while its aesthetic appeal creates an inviting atmosphere.

Outdoor Sports Areas for outdoor sports areas, rubber flooring offers weather resistance and durability. It's perfect for playgrounds, tennis courts, and outdoor training spaces, providing a safe and comfortable surface for athletes to train on, regardless of the weather conditions.

Conclusion

Rubber flooring stands out as a top choice for both indoor and outdoor sports areas, offering a range of benefits that make it a superior gym flooring solution. Its versatility, durability, safety features, and eco-friendly attributes make it an investment worth considering for any sports facility. Whether you're looking to enhance your home gym or create a multi-sport complex, rubber flooring is the foundation for success.

[amywritesthings]

gojo satoru public bathroom sex beeeecause i was on something today?

Borderline illegal? More like egregiously — but Satoru made sure to stuff two of his slender fingers into your mouth to stop the inevitable argument budding on your tongue. “Can’t wait anymore,” is his only excuse as he leans to inhale the scent of you at your neck; feral like an animal in heat, like a rubber band snapped somewhere between showing up and finding out you’d worn the same icy silver dress he’d mentioned liking once in passing after seeing it on you during a New Year’s Eve party.

That was back then, before the two of you ended up in a limitless loop of play pretend. He’ll be civil so long as you pretend you don’t want any part of this — and to your credit, you tried. Casual acquaintances at work turned into lewd texts, and now? Well, the second course barely hit the table before the white-haired sorcerer lept from your little table.

“Meet me in the back,” is his only warning — and to your credit, you waited a whopping five minutes before sliding out of the chair to find where the individual bathrooms were located.

You barely made it through the door before he was on you, his large hands gripping either side of your face to drag you into a searing kiss. You speak in squeaks and whimpers, a protest somewhere in the middle, but Satoru Gojo is starving.

“You think you were going to show up in a dress like that and I’d wanna wait?” he muses as his free hand skates down the front of the sequins, marveling at its texture. Under his dark oval sunglasses, his eyes are alight. No water will quench his thirst, no meal his taste, when he’s parting your bare knees with his thigh. “I appreciate the benefit of the doubt, baby, but there was no fucking way I was— Shit, have you been wet this whole time?”

Gojo sounds utterly broken when his fingers skim past the hem of your skirt, only to touch the thin fabric of your panties. He grimaces as if he’s in pain holding back, the tip of his middle finger circling your clothed clit with ease. You whimper against the fingers in your mouth and nod to the best of your ability, and he exhales sharply.

“You’re fucking amazing, you know that?”

He never fails to tell you so.

Removing his fingers from your mouth, he quickly unfastens his belt and rips it out of his dress trousers with one hand, carelessly tossing it to the floor. He shoves his pants down far enough to release his aching cock, too aroused to even think straight. You love him like this; unhinged, untethered, for a man who is usually so tightly wound for the sake of the universe.

And it’s all for you.

As he hikes up your leg to hook around his hip, you can see the brief curve of a wolfish smile on his lips while he lines up. He pumps himself once, twice, before nudging the fat head against your folds. His other hand slides the fabric of your panties to the right, too needy to drag them off of your legs. When he wants something, he makes it happen.

“Fucking amazing,” he repeats breathlessly, before pushing up and into you with ease. You harmonize in groans of relief, relishing in the stretch and heat. “And all mine.”

[wilbursprincess]

October 2- Giving Copbur a Blowjob Under the Desk

Copbur x Female Reader

Warnings: A rather soft blowjob, praise kink, honestly just pretty wholesome lol

I didn’t mean to make this so wholesome, lmao. Enjoy!

Fic below cut!

“It’s going to be a long night,” Wilbur sighs, glaring at the pile of case folders like they owed him money. “You should go home and get some rest.”

I shake my head, heading for the coffeemaker and grabbing out our usual mugs. “Nope. If you’re staying, I’m staying with you. The company will keep you awake.”

He smiles wearily. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Wilbur was technically my boss. At first, it felt more like he was my superior, but now, it felt like we were on the same level. ‘Partners in not-crime’, he called us.

However, the last year had been a whirlwind. Wilbur went through a nasty breakup, leaving him single and lonely, throwing himself into work to distract from thoughts of her. I’d been single for as long as I could remember, so long I’d almost forgotten that sex was a possibility. I invited him over to my apartment to take his mind off his ex one night, one thing lead to another, and my legs were over his shoulders with our clothes on my living room floor.

Were we dating? No, not exactly. Friends with benefits, if I had to label it.

“Nice skirt,” Wilbur says slyly, eyeing the curve of my ass against the fabric when I bend down to grab the pencil I knocked to the floor. “I did a good job picking it out for you.”

I snort. “You mean the uniform skirt you assigned?”

“Because it hugged your pretty little curves? Yes,” he replies, going back to the file he’s reading through. “You look nice today.”

“Do I?” My hair was messy, lipstick smudged, and I’m sure the bags under my eyes were immune to even the best concealer.

“You always do,” Wilbur smiles. “I couldn’t ask for better company during these late nights.”

Despite fucking each other’s brains out a few times a week, we weren’t normally openly affectionate at work. I wasn’t sure what had gotten into him tonight. Sleep deprivation, maybe?

“Someone’s horny,” I snort, but his face gives away that it wasn’t exactly a joke. “Wilbur! We’re at work!”

He sighs. “It’s been a long day, and I had to stay awake somehow.”

“There’s no way we’re getting through this unless I take care of that,” I smile, wrapping my hair into a messy bun and securing it with a rubber band from Wilbur’s desk. “Didn’t you always say you fantasied about me under your desk?”

His face is a picture, shock mixed with joy and excitement. “Really?”

“Really.” I drop to my knees, ducking under his desk and resting my chin on his knee. “We’re normally more PG at work, you know.”

“I know.” Wilbur’s hand snakes down to his fly and undoes it. “But I can’t resist you when you’re acting like this.”

The tip of his cock grazes over my lips, sticky precum smudging my lipstick even more. “Go on, you know what to do,” his voice murmurs.

Wilbur’s dominant persona is almost impossible to break, and he keeps it up even when I first take him into my mouth, despite his hips jumping up in excitement.

“Fuck,” he groans, twitching against my tongue. “You fit my cock in your mouth so well.”

He’s being generous with the praise, especially because I can’t possibly fit his entire cock in my mouth. My spit dripping down his shaft helps me stroke him where my mouth can’t reach, something I know drives him crazy.

One of Wilbur’s hands is caressing the nape of my neck, the other squeezes my free hand. We’re not normally affectionate, strictly focused on getting each other off, so the moment of tenderness momentarily surprises me.

His thumb circles my palm as he dishes out more praise. “That’s a good girl,” he murmurs. “Just like that, it feels amazing.”

Fooling around with him at work was not something we often did. Actually, we’d never done it before, preferring to separate our work lives from our sex lives. It somehow made being on my knees even hotter than usual.

Wilbur starts taking control, thrusting into my throat so deep I have to fight my gag reflex. His cock drips with a mixture of my spit and his precum, streaks of lipstick all over his shaft and smeared on my face.

“Gonna… gonna cum,” he groans, thrusts erratic and sloppy. “So good, love.”

I continue to bob my head through his orgasm, bitter salty cum painting my throat as I swallow every last drop. Once Wilbur whines from overstimulation, I pull off his cock, neither of us talking as we bask in the aftermath.

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting him to say once he caught his breath, but I knew for a fact it wasn’t what came out of his mouth.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Wilbur asks, tilting my chin up so I’m forced to look at him. “I know this was just an agreement because we were both single, but I want you to be mine. You’re perfect and the sex is mindblowing. It would make me the happiest man alive.”

“Damn, I must’ve given you the most mindblowing blowjob ever given for you to say that,” I mutter, and he snorts.

“This is why I love you,” Wilbur replies. “What do you say?”

I grin, pushing his desk back so I can crawl up and kiss him. “I say yes.”

“Why don’t we leave this for tomorrow?” He asks, smiling against my lips. “We can go back to mine, make some dinner, and have a sleepover.”

“Sounds amazing.”

[misc-obeyme]

Spears Crossed

LISTEN. Nobody said I was good at titles, okay? Spear Lessons was bad enough, but I didn't wanna just call this Spear Lessons Part Two, you know??

Anyway, this is the second part to Spear Lessons. I am completely addicted to medieval sparring youtube now and there is no turning back for me. Also might be a little in love with Raphael, but that's a different problem.

GN!MC x Raphael

Warnings: none, 'tis still fluff

You stood in the RAD coliseum, your feet spread and knees lowered in a fighting stance. You clutched a spear in one hand, held up and slightly behind yourself, waiting. The large space was filled with tense silence.

Across from you, still several feet away, Raphael stood straight, but relaxed. His spear was held in his hand, pointing up to the ceiling. He seemed perfectly composed as he kept his eyes on you.

You crouched slightly, waiting for him to make the first move.

When Raphael stepped back, bringing his spear down into position, you knew he was deliberately going slow enough for you to see what he was doing. It irritated you just a little. After all this time, why was he still going easy on you?

Because of this, you were prepared for his lunge. You brought your spear down and around, tucking it on the inside of his to easily knock it to the side. It stabbed past your head harmlessly.

You took advantage of the moment and stepped forward into your own thrust, aiming the tip of your spear at his chest.

Raphael stepped backward, pulling the tip of his spear just beneath yours so it was positioned to knock you out of the way.

Your spear listed to the side a little as you pulled it back into yourself, rearranging into a prepared stance. The tips of your spears were now crossed and they clanked against each other faintly as you each shuffled your feet in preparation for the next attack.

It was a split second decision for you to take the offense, stepping forward before Raphael could, bringing your spear into line to hit him.

Raphael deflected your spear almost too easily. He may have started slow for your benefit, but you recognized when he got serious.

That was when his spear slid across the top of yours, the tip aimed right at your neck.

Your best choice was to duck, so you did. You took several steps backward to further avoid the strike. Then you turned a little to re-enter the fighting space and thrust your own spear out at Raphael. You kept your dominant hand on the bottom of the spear, using your arm's strength to send it out from you as far as it would go.

You nearly clipped him, but Raphael knocked it aside in time.

You were breathing a little heavily now, but you were proud of yourself for getting that close.

You didn't let up. You decided a series of quick thrusts was the way to go - throw him off by not letting him take a break from defending against you.

You moved forward with each thrust, your feet carrying you across the coliseum floor easily, the continual jabs from the spear being repelled each time. But you noted how Raphael's parries were getting sloppier and sloppier as you pressed him.

So you continued, kept going until you saw the perfect opening. Raphael's spear was already slightly off to the side due to meeting your last thrust. So you used your own spear to press his down, forcing the tip to the ground. Then you thrust, letting your spear slide up the length of his until the point reached his throat.

If you had been fighting for real, he would be dead.

Raphael looked at you over the tip of your spear, which was made of a harmless rubber and was now bent in half against his neck. His surprised expression suddenly melted into a smile and your heart constricted when you saw the pride there.

You laughed, overwhelmed at the fact that you had finally beat him. For months now, you had been sparring here in the coliseum and you had never once managed to hit him. Every time, Raphael deflected your attacks.

You dropped your sparring spear, a simple thing made of wood, letting it clank against the ground.

"I did it!" you exclaimed.

You didn't wait for a reaction from Raphael, you simply ran toward him and flung your arms around his neck.

There was another clank as Raphael dropped his own spear - also for practice and made of wood and rubber. His arms caught you and he stepped back a few paces from your momentum.

You suddenly found yourself staring directly into those blue eyes. They were as calm as they always were, but there was something else there now. A spark of feeling that you couldn't quite decipher. It was more than pride, it was fondness, it was accomplishment.

Memories flashed through your mind - all the days you had come here with your practice spear, ready to lose yet again. Every time Raphael had carefully shown you the nuances of handling the spear correctly. Whenever he took the time to explain to you what you were doing wrong. The adrenaline of a sparring match firing you up, the rapid beating of your heart, from exertion and exhilaration and something else you couldn't quite admit to.

"I'm proud of you, MC," Raphael said. "You've really mastered the use of the spear."

It was such a simple statement. It was just like him to say something like that to you so easily, with all his emotions simmering beneath them. He remained so calm upon the surface, but his words gave him away.

"You were still holding back," you said quietly. "I saw how you fell into the stance so slowly. Don't do that next time, okay?"

Raphael chuckled. "I won't, I promise."

You pulled an arm back so you could let your fingertips brush through his hair, just barely catching the edges of the gold diamonds.

All the feelings that had built up inside you throughout the time you'd been learning from Raphael finally spilled over.

It seemed that Raphael could see it happening in your eyes because his arms tightened around you.

That was all the encouragement you needed. You cupped his face with your hands and kissed him.

The spark you'd seen in his eyes flared up between you instead, a swirling flutter in your stomach as he returned your kiss.

You pulled away with a little gasp, your nerves jangling.

Raphael's eyes were shining. "MC," he said. "I want to give you something."

He let go of you, though you could feel the reluctance as he did. You waited, watching him.

Raphael lifted a hand, a glow surrounded him, and the rain of spears he was so well known for began. You didn't need to step out of the way because you knew they wouldn't touch you.

And they didn't. They didn't even hit the ground. Raphael grabbed one and the rest disappeared. It looked just like the Celestial Realm spear he had been using that day you first saw him on the grass on the RAD campus. Bright and shining, all gold and steel.

Raphael held it out to you. "I want you to have this."

Your eyes widened. "Y-you… what?"

He smiled, stepped closer to you, lifted one of your hands to hold the spear with his. "You've earned it," he said. "And if there's ever a day when you need to defend yourself for real, you'll have a weapon that will never fail you."

The thoughtfulness of this gesture made you feel like you might explode into a tiny burst of spears yourself.

"Are you sure?" you asked.

Raphael's expression became serious. "I have never been so sure of anything in my life."

You turned into him, overwhelmed. And although the bright and shining spear was still clutched between you, Raphael kissed you again. It was full of all the things he hadn't said - everything you already knew from the look in his eyes and the spear in your hand.

It was a bit risky, perhaps. You were both keenly aware of what had happened the last time an angel fell in love with a human. But you were also prepared for any adversity that happened to come your way. Even if it meant that in the end, it would only be the two of you and some stolen Celestial Realm spears.

Spear Lessons | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄: 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

☾ ━━━ CONTENT: teasing, oral (f.rec), protected sex, big dick binnie, clit play, praise, aftercare ☾ ━━━ WC: 1K ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+

The first thing Changbin did when he got in his car was call Chan. Giving his roommate a warning at least.

“Yeah?” the Aussie answered

“Are you home?” Changbin asked his friend as he pulled out of his parking spot with Y/n not far behind him

“Should I not be?” Chan questioned

“Up to you but I’m having company over.”

“Didn’t you just close up? When did you have time to pick up a girl?”

“It’s my new receptionist. I took her on a date after I gave her a tattoo and we’ve kind of started a friends-with-benefits thing.”

“Is that the one you told Han and me about the other week?”

“Yes. Are you leaving or are you staying for a show?”

“I’m locking myself in my room with headphones and working.”

“That works too. I’ll see you in the morning then.”

“Be safe,” Chan said before hanging up

Changbin rolled his eyes but continued his drive. Checking behind him every so often to make sure Y/n was still behind him. He pulled into the building parking lot and parked in one of the spots with an open space next to it. He met her outside of the cars before leading her up into his unit. Changbin opened the door for her and walked it behind her. He hung up his keys and grabbed her bag from her shoulders while she slipped her shoes off. Y/n looked back as he hung up her bag for her.

Y/n smiled at him as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him. Y/n pulled him in for another kiss. Changbin moved his lips with hers as he turned her to press her against the wall. Y/n moaned into his mouth as he lifted one of her legs around his waist.

“Bin,” Y/n moaned into his mouth

“Already moaning all pretty for me,” Changbin teased

“Bed, please.”

Changbin moaned in response before pulling his lips away from her and walking down the hallway to his room. Y/n smiled as she kissed along his neck as he walked. He took her to his room and kicked his door closed before pinning her down to his bed. Their lips reattached as he pushed up her shirt. Pulling his lips away and looking down at the work he’d done on her.

“Mapping out my next piece?” Y/n joked

“Making sure you’re taking care of it properly,” Changbin responded as she helped him tear the shirt away from her body and toss it onto his floor. Changbin leaned down to her chest, placed a few kisses on her breasts, then snaked a hand behind her and unhooked her bra.

Y/n pulled up his t-shirt, getting the fabric off him to match her before he made work of unbuttoning her pants and getting them off of her with her panties. He tossed the fabrics aside and laid down between her legs. He tossed the limbs over his shoulders and wrapped his arms around her thighs.

Y/n moaned as his tongue ran up between her folds. Lips wrapped around her clit perfectly as he sucked on the budget. Y/n threaded her fingers into his hair, tugging at the strands as his tongue rolled over the bud. Slightly rolling her hips against his face. Changbin moaned against her as he dipped his tongue into her.

His nose rubbed against her clit as he pulled her closer to his mouth. Trying to get every drop of her, especially when her high hit. Hips rocking against him as he held her close while she rode it out. Changbin’s tongue licked up every bit of her cum from her before pulling back and sitting up. Y/n watched as he tore off his clothes and leaned over to his bedside table. Grabbing a condom from the drawer and opening the foil, grabbing the rubber and rolling it down his length.

Y/n spread her legs open for him as he moved right between them. Changbin smiled as he grabbed her legs and spread them just right for him. Slowly he slipped inside of her. Falling for her moans as he stretched her open on his dick.

“Fuck,” Y/n whined

“Not used to me yet? I should fuck you more then,” Changbin smiled as his thumb gently rolled over her clit.

Y/n nodded, not being able to fix words at the moment as he slowly started thrusting into her. He leaned down onto his forearm and kissed her neck. Her legs and arms wrapped around him as he kept thrusting into her. Begging him for more.

“Take me so fucking good,” Changbin groan as he thrusted his full length into her

“Close bin,” Y/n whined

“Already? Is my baby still sensitive after her first orgasm?”

“Yes!” Y/n moaned

“Gonna cum on my dick? Be a good girl and make a mess on my dick for me.”

Y/n nodded as his tip grazed that perfect spot inside her. Her arms and legs tightened around him as he aimed for the spot again and again. Y/n whined as her orgasm got closer and closer before one more thrust tossed her over the edge. Body stiffening as he helped her through her second orgasm.

Changbin’s high came crashing down not long after she came down from her’s. Thrusting into her a few times as he filled the rubber. Holding himself up on his hands before he finished and pulled out. Cursing as he caught his breath.

Y/n laid against the mattress as she caught her breath again. “Water?” Changbin asked

“Yes please,” Y/n sighed.

Changbin got up and took off the condom, tying it off and tossing it before making his way to the small fridge in his room and grabbed her water. Opening it for her as she sat up. “Thank you,” Y/n smiled

“Your welcome,” Changbin said, “Want to stay the night?”

“Yeah. Too tired to drive now.” Y/n smiled

Changbin grabbed her one of his shirts and helped her clean up before settling under the sheets with her on his chest. Random TV show on till they either fell asleep or decided on round two.

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[lara-kaminari]

The benefits of the modern era

(Sebastian Sallow x F!MC)

AU University / +18/ ONE-SHOT / Explicit Language / Fantasize.

-----

Note: I had this thought and I had to write it down

----

Sebastian Sallow is a great lover of the modern era.

He loves advances in technology, medicine, music and art. It has evolved enormously in different aspects of everyday life. Who would think that today you press a button and you can communicate with a person twenty countries away? It is exquisite. So much to learn just one click away from achieving it.

However, above all the existing achievements of the human species, what Sebastian Sallow loves most about modern times are short skirts. Blessed invention of this new century, amen to freedom and free expression of bodies!

Perhaps, in a bleak time where light is produced only by candles and not by electric bulbs, Sebastian would be content to see the ankle of some neglected damsel. Now he pities those ancient customs full of false decorum and little skin-to-skin contact.

In fact, if it comes to that, Sebastian also loves the university library: It's comfortable, spacious, has those soft armchairs that are usually backless. Covered by a rigid fabric that can be made of different materials: leather, fabric, plastic, the interior is filled with soft materials such as polystyrene pieces which makes it adaptable to different spaces and uses. Its structure resembles a large cushion as it has no legs, resting its entire base on the floor. He can just lie down with a good book between his legs and enjoy the world from a different height.

The low height allows him to see the girls climbing the moving ladder to grab a book from the high shelf or those who spread their legs a little apart as they sit at the table in front of him.

And there he was. Sebastian snuck up stealthily, grabbed a book and leaned back on the colorful rubber seat in the corner of the place.

If anyone messed with him, he would make believe he was reading some very important history for his exam.

There was not much activity the first hour. Indeed, the warmth of the room and the comfort meant that sleepiness began to wash over him. It would have been a wasted morning except that, suddenly, he heard a stack of books fall and someone groan in pain, very close to where he was.

Sebastian sharpened his vision, the bookshelf hid a girl who now bent down to pick up her books. The position of the two was a blessing for him: the sight of striking green panties greeted him. Quite a sight.

The girl kept crawling to pick up all the scattered books. Something she was whispering, but Sebastian didn't give her enough interest. His attention was fixed on those high socks squeezing her thighs. The sight was enchanting and more so because she was swaying as she picked up each book without realizing she had a shameless onlooker.

Sebastian wondered how hard it would be to agree to such a fuck. Desperate bitches don't usually go to the library. Maybe she'd just be an easy-to-win bimbo. A couple of nice words and he'd have her in the bag. An hour locked up with her and I'd come home with that cute pair of green panties tucked in my pocket.

Those panties that fit those lips perfectly, Sebastian could run his fingers down the middle of those pretty legs and hear her let out good girl squeals. He could rip that fabric and fuck the girl in the middle of those soft couches while the stranger struggles not to scream. Maybe force her to bite the fabric of her panties to keep her quiet while he fucks her ass in the nearest bathroom.

He placed his hand above his fly, settling the future problem between his pants. This was no time to make a scene.

Sebastian moved back into the position of innocent reader when he saw the young woman shake out the bottom of her skirt with the intention of getting up. Perhaps, when she passed in front of him, Sebastian would catch her eye. A good conversation, a couple of compliments, nothing would make him happier than to feel what he could only taste with his eyes.

—Hi Sebastian, studying again?

Shit.

—Hi MC, you know me.

Fantasizing about his best friend he's known since the fifth year of high school is not a source of pride for Sebastian, this could become a problem if he doesn't undo that mental image right then and there. It was just a silly thing, no green panties and short skirts, just a misunderstanding.

—Sebastian, are you all right?

In an ancient era, he would be a man of honor who would not accept false advances. He would stand up, absolutely spotless, and say something like, "Splendid, my dear, never been better," and then walk far away without looking back. But this is the modern era and men don't have as many social skills as they used to.

Stupid modern era.

[cipheramnesia]

Vivisection

I sloughed the shell in a flourish of our shared sweat, blood, and mucus. Cold on the steel-grated floor lift, tech eyes wide over me as my psyche twitched itself back together from the needles. My eyes said you must be new but my mouth spoke in thick puked up fluid whilst my sopping slick shuddering fingers clawed nerve pads off my tits and slid catheter from my dick. All of us nerves had little twitches of pleasure as we found ourselves whole, and made it to sitting.

"Towel," I found language, and the tech handed it, eyes carefully elsewhere at the pink and red cockpit still quivering in urgency, wet with quenched desires. Methodically cleaned under the wet warm terrycloth ministrations, top to standing, adjusting to eyes and ears 'side skin and taste. The hangar was all echoes of more experienced crew on the teardown fifty feet up and down the shell, didn't need the look I turned anyway at my love, the crab. Rested claws in bands of carbon, four squat legs and rolling condensation off the quieting spiracles. Charred, twisting armor coated over with clotted brown patch like scabs and fading blue drips of other less evils' blood, sparkling at places from shattered refractive layers, spongy intrasteel glistening through here and there. Below it discharged glutinous tar from the trap, all spent oil and shock fluid plus shells and fused filters, burned heat hexes all and all bound for the reprocess, someone else's hand-me-down armor or shoes.

The wasp staggered past us to its own home sweet safety net so I hung the rail in a gentlemanly way and bade our tech meet my goddess in crime at her door. "They have their own lift," the tech observed. My goosebumps agreed, emphasizing the questionable temperature, but a lady must pay her respects. "I don't care," I suggested so we went.

Parked up under those gangly legs adripped with the glow and silver of thirty confirmed kills and gored holes through musculoskeletal tubing told the tale, I held my arms in chivalry as the mandibles underside the shell parted ways and dripped Ari into my embrace along side her own deluge of girl-juice and veined amniogel shreds. Knees buckled as my stomach protested my lack aforethought, but no one could dispute the benefits of a girl pressed against my breasts, slinging her long arms around me. She barfed over my shoulders, warm and phlegmy.

Ari'd pulled her cords in the shell like a good girl, still shook gainst my skin as she stuttered, "fuh- fuh- fuh-" while I jerked my head at the tech who shrugged. Outta towels, well my bad. Leaned us on the railing and thought about tonight, you know the human body's pretty heavy all said? "Your... skin is... freezing!" she articulated, not a request mere observation, but my arms acquiesced nevertheless. We leaned on each other watching black muck drain from the wasp's thorax, standing around naked in a pool of shell vomit. "Yer dumb," she added, hocking up more phlegm. "Now're both shlimy." The other shells crawled in with the tide, blasted with sterilizing powder and steam, various scorpions and mosquitos and spiders seeking succor as we finally made our way down the textured rubber steps.

"Fuckin so hungry," Ari slurred, dribbling blood and saliva while my own stomach answered midst shouts of our squad as they were reborn, crawling free and bloodied from the shell, some still babbled nonsense, tried to move limbs no longer bodied and no shame to them. "You threw up so much, 'spected," I said. Watched Spinning Jenny shaking mucus off his head, snapping teeth together.

"Gonna eat three horses," Ari added. "Fuck potatoes, my dick can fuck a pile of potatoes I'm starving." She shook my shoulder, my legs wobbled in tune, "Clingy bitch." But her hand stayed, fingers digging the tense muscles in my back, mine squeezed her hips. "Casey I want you to hold me down and force feed a gallon of cheese into me." Managed to cross the whole hangar naked, didn't eat shit. Techs hooted appreciating and I tried to bow but just did a cockeyed vanity wave. Brain twitched but kept my cool, remembered I don't see in sonar. "Maybe later tonight," I murmured sotto voce. I cleaned the fresh blood from my ears with a pinky finger.

Lockers, showers, Ari always liked when I soaped and dried her, little bit of a tease, ease of limbs back into bodily limits. She was wiping gunk from her eyes, still going, "I fuck shit swear I'm getting mission reruns in my sleep now. Bullshit we don't hang on to PDN memories, I've deffo had the same shit we throw at the elves in my head at night."

"They're not elves," I said.

"Whatever, magical monster tree bugs, I dunno, are you getting shell feedback?" I was toweling her thick curls, my own short hair dried sweet quick. Threw on those almost paper scrubs. Sexy. "Babe, we all got feedback, I'm not even sure how much me is in my mind."

She grabbed my hair and gave my head a little shake, "Lucky you, I'll fuck your brains out anyway," and blew my hair out my eyes. I grabbed her hand and pushed back, she swooned, we crushed hard as team shelled and molted, in bed or in field. Just a way to anchor, comes with the piloting, nothing new. Lots of pilots fall in twos and fours of strange bedfellow - gets you back in mind after so long parted. "Shut the fuck up," she said to my smile, shoved back, I reeled her in and smiled more til she punched my shoulder. "Fuck you, feed me." We joined the aching crowd clustering to the mess hall.

Slammed our piled trays on a table, minutes later. Scatter Hawk had beat us there somehow, last in the bay, first to the hay per usual. Jelly was still in their hair and they were tearing into a pile of beef flavored protein patties they'd slathered with garlic chili sauce and pickled carrot chips. Shoved it in their blood-smeared face with mixed results twohanding a fork, missed the target 30% of the time. "Glad you're a better shot with the 40," I suggested and they replied, "Slip your own dick sideways fish brisket," spittle and snot sprayed with each word, language not quite in the altogether I guess. I slapped some nerves back into their shoulder and they grunted wetly and appreciatively.

Ari pushed me onto the bench and dropped down, catted up against me and chugged hot sauce from the tube, followed by a fistful of fake bacon and chips dripping with jalapeños. "Thid fit gess weeper effy dah" she spat out with a mouthful of half chewed food, elbowing my ribs in the process, so I slipped my hand over her thigh and gave her a reassuring stim. I was busy with whatever passed for kimchi and pork flavored protein while the table started filling up with other pilots eating an entire day's worth of food in one sitting, trying to feel and speak and touch and taste all at once with mixed successes, all of us trying to pick our nerves up from the sludge being in the shell made out of our bodies. DeeDee shoved a fork at us and said, "Fuck were you, suckin dick? Tank's supposed to keep hits off."

"Yeah, take many hits?" I wiped the dribbled of blood off my lip.

"Like ten! Two in a lung!" He jabbed a beef patty for table wobbling emphasis.

Barely audible Ari whispered, "You're alive aren't you?" Head was drooped under her curled hair near to my level, flying below table radar, still about hit direct to a nerve with DeeDee's bloodshot eyes going big and Hellis beside scooting its flat ass away but none of us got further into what manner of dicks weren't or were sucked (my carefully planned speech - about the pincer move we broke while I was still jamming longways thanks and the relationship of DeeDee's dick being vaporized vis a vis our suckage - wasted). Squad command rudely storming our table with the demand: "Death Claw! Kill Strike!"

Silence resumed in sudden shock as he stood authority thrust chinward, all our eyes tracking the table. He repeated the command, "Death Claw! Kill Strike!" Silence abounded, roamed the plains, handed him a look of weary resignation as his lips, with all the distaste of gingerly dropping a dead rat into a toilet, formed, "Kitty Candy and Raccoon Enchantment," he struggled to recover his momentum but the wind was dead, "I need to speak with you both." Tablewide "ooooo" and Spinning Jenny added "someone's in trouuuble," as we took our ways in the talking wake of the baron of bluster.

Followed breadcrumbs of wet bootie prints and bloodsmeared walls back to the old bay so he could scream at us with an echo. "You semen stains mind explaining what the fuck you were doing back in that shitshow?"

Her nose was bleeding heavily again and I could feel Ari's arm spasm as she pushed close behind me, whispering without sound. I had answers mercifully drowned in a wad of spit and phlegm suddenly dumping into my mouth and down my chin.

"Gods you're all fucking sick. Disgusting. Got nothing to show for it?"

I swallowed another gob of something unpleasantly solid which mercifully shot from my lungs into my mouth giving moments for me to think forward. Rare enough, I treasured them. Figured best not mention what was the thing, blowing the drop bolts early cuz she wanted to try and fire the primary on the wasp from directly above a banyan whilst midair, sans stabilizers, which for the record she hit the thing but caught an extra eighth mile sky above the crate.

"Listen," I gurgled, wiped off my face. ("Listen SIR," he interjected, so I waved indulgently.) "Hurgle. My decoms pinged a hostile lake, looked like a stand of banyans an' a anthill so we bailed at drop beta." Ari's fingers drug out blood from under my paper sleeve, fuck ridiculous she's like eight inches taller trying to make my ass into partial cover.

"Drop beta," he repeated the words to emphasize their unwelcome intrusion to his shriveled brain. I realized the part of my memories with this squad commander's name got sliced in the shell. His face was twitching as bad as mine ever has. "There was no drop beta! There was one site, slash and burn, the end!"

"Well lucky you! We set one up before that swampfire cut our lines up, no thanks necessary please, you know we do it for the love of our jobs."

He looked at the melted up muscle and vatsteel carapace curves of my beloved crab and wasp. Some mirror shaved surfaces, bug blood all black where it congealed. "Fuckin trannies, disgusting, undisciplined- Why we hire so many I don't even-"

"C'mon, you know we're your best guys."

"You're literally my worst guys! If I had anyone else fucked in the head enough to shove into those- those fucking meat grinder abominations, I'd dump your freakshow asses so far in the back beyond you'd fart just for the conversation!"

I elbowed Ari in the gut before she said something dumber than I had in mind. "You know the old saying, a tranny in the shell will give em all hell."

His face snapped shut like crab's load-in maw. Gritted teeth rumbled, "Scrape duty for the next two hours." He shoved us out of the way off to ruin someone else's sex lives, his own probably.

Two hours and two trays of congealed processed protein with vinegar and hot peppers, we trudged down the narrow hall to bunk. The ganglia stopped twitching but it'd been a minute last I had this much elf blood under my nails and my hair reeked of burned polyfilament lubricant.

Ari stretched her arms back because the ceiling was too low for up grumbling, "Don't wanna spec nother fuckin face for a whole shift." I shrugged half drop slept and headed my roomways, brought to heel with her hand on my wrist. "The fuck you think you're going, you promised." Her, lips, just as crusted with blood and snot as mine still a cute pout in dire times.

I gauged my cramping stomach up against that hand and those lips. We hadn't been on-mission for a sec, and fuck for the moment I'm only human and very horny. Still. "You said-"

"People, I mean people." She punched the latch and I let her reel me into her narrow cabin, coming attractions you could call it. I said, "Babe, you gotta pick up your underwear - or anything - sometime." Ari grabbed a bottle of the rancid wine someone was making from cooking oil and caramelized vinegar. She put it against my chest, and put us against the stowage wall, and put her tongue into my throat. Her lips were gunpowder nachos, burning hot, both of us careless to chapped cracked open blood. I took a slug of the wine, with its notes of artificial PTSD raspberry flavor, as she pulled the bunk from the wall. I held up the bottle, tipped it to her lips, spilled it into her mouth, on her face, down her bare flesh and cheap scrubs.

Ari yanked it away and tossed it to the refuse under her fully unused sliver of a desk. I grabbed her by the front of her scrubs, they tore, so I grabbed her arm and fumbled us against the edge of the cot, struggling with my pants and paper booties. "Fucking elastic, now it works?" Ari tried to rip the pants off, snapping a yelp and a shock outta me when she snapped the band on my stomach, so I pushed my hand into her pants and grabbed her dick, hip checked her onto her back on the cot, then furiously yanked both our pants off. We smashed tongues and lips again, her guided by my fingers in her hair, me by her nails on my back, furrows through the grime mottling my acne scarred skin. I clambered onto her, a full tangle of legs and elbows with the sweet serenade of the cot, joints protesting weight and unwelcome thrashing. But I had hold of her now, me and my little growls, her softly repeating "please," as I pressed our hips, tits, lips together. Teased and pinched on and around her nipples, scratched the welcome back real world long her ribs, pulled myself to myself with her rhythmic panting breaths. Shudders passing through from her to me, traded in kind as we reminded our bodies and each other of the dwindling human embers in our chests, the dregs of what once was bright and happy in the world still enough between us to reignite into the shape we suffered through bereft of shells. A minute for our hearts to hammer together, to take in the mossy dried blood scent, the reek of sweat and metal, both of us hard and slick against one another.

When she murmured, we gingerly squirmed our legs and arms around and across each other til Ari lay on her stomach, the pathetic, thin excuse of a mattress rolled under her chest and arms. Lube was spread over her ass and my fingers with wasteful urgency. I worked my hands slowly down her back, gently caressing her sync ports with my thumb, watching them contract and gape with her moans. The lips of them tingled and sent pulses of pleasure through my hands from lingering protonerves. Moved downward to her ass and sliped in one finger at a time, stroking inside her folds, touching her walls, three in and rhythmic spreading and relaxing as she sucked in air, so I leaned up close and slipped my tongue into her neckport, the sphincter closed tight and opened wide and I could feel my ports sympatic response, taste her tasting tasting her. She twisted her pillow into knots and I pushed my cock into her as my fingers slipped out, slowly, feeling her tense up and relax.

Slivers of amniogel squished against my cock in her ass, protonerves shot echos of her through me, flaring and then crushed between us. We pressed ourselves closer, trading pulses back and forth, that one flashing minute of her ass against my hips and one hand on her dick, my face in her hair, one hand pressing into jer back ports, letting her suck the lube from my other hand. It was almost the ecstasy of feeling our minds dissolve into one another. Then we moved again. Hours or minutes, I felt her cum trickle over my hands and wiped it on her thigh as I kept going. Mucus spilled from her contracting back sphincters and my own. Fucking the trace of vat grown life to death until we might have a hope of sleep tonight.

It was humid and reeked of sex, everything about Ari barely fit, except for me, so we stole away these moments from each other to remember and forget. It was nothing in the world, but it was better than dying alone. My leg hung off the bed when we had rolled free of one another, too filthy to breathe and too wasted to shower. My elbow and hip hurt from banging against the wall. Her legs were curled up and her left knee jabbed painfully into my thigh, I couldn't find a place to put my right arm and it was falling asleep but the tingle felt better than trying to stand up. Head was jammed into my neck, couldn't be comfortable, I brushed tangles out of her hair. Muffled, she said, "You smell bad."

"You love it. You missed my pit stank, my demure little corpseflower." She made gagging noises into my clavicle. "I'm gonna have to go back to my nice bunk where the floor is clean, can't stay under my wing forever birdie."

"Whatever," I felt her lips mashed against me with each word, and braced for her to shove me off bed, but her arm just squeezed me closer. "Can so stay f'rever," she sounded almost asleep, her head pushed closer to me and she muttered something like "glove mew bits."

Rolled eyes, but pressed a little closer. "Sure, marinate some new strain of bacteria, they can spatula us out the morning." Unprepared by her momentary snuggle, my ass hit the floor in a pile of unwashed tanktops with a sleep slurred "fuck off."

I left my dignity in the laundry and blew a kiss. "You're gonna hate you in the morning if you sleep that way," she made and grumpy noise and wrapped herself around the rolled up mattress, trying and failing to fit on the metal cot. I tripped a little on the way out the door, on my half naked way to a luxury five minute hot shower to a low bid bargain cold sleep.

Dreams told tales from the shell. Techs all swore in the slice nothing transfers. True enough we lost a short term or three but that's the balance to cost against feedback, they said. Dreams were my four legs crushing earth compact from the drop jump as my decoms rolled over the banyans and bugs slinging spells, my nightmost terrors unfolding from the PDN and flooding their foci and fetishes. In the mindscape ground ran fluid under mechanized polyplastic muscle, the world putty with my gargantuan claws. Chaff launched from deep inside my chambered shell to spark the incoming green, a deathly spray to casual sunblock rads, no mind to armored skin.

Myriad wave of banyans moving, windblown, roots crawling, but there she is, my darting wasp hurling her thousand stings, finding targets in my trackers n hackers through the grassfield bugs. Their blood glows blue, all the work of their spells to brittle silver threads that fall to pieces. She lands and I bathe the hill in freaks, veritable fog of messy tracking til her thorax slides open and erects its throbbing, winged main gun, legs planted, struts in, and a hurricane throws banyan trunks to shreds, clears a canyon of death, and she screams, and I see the branches from the earth tearing her apart, I am slow, bogged in sudden mud, green spears her, the angry earth rips her legs from limb, black ichor and green coolant and I wake up screaming as she shouts for me to go. Clutching the metal edge to my cot, seeking my body again, for a moment unable to hear or see, I exist only as pounding blood and raw nerves til each flexed muscle brings me to human.

Some time passes to rise, rollout hours more hence, I spent time to feel my body, put on shorts and t-top and try to forget the dream and Ari's voice screaming for me to leave her.

I tried to sleep the echo away, then folded my cot and dug the glass bottle of beauties. Rattled a couple hatch-down to flatten it out. Nothing doing, no washing or wiping or jerking off removed the unwelcome night haunt, so I made my soft shod way down to mess.

Rigs like these, there's never quiet. Air cycles, night crew, the odd distant clatter we all always hoped wasn't the seconds off warning of full breach. I paused by Ari's door, halfway to clacking it, but moved counterspin towards mess. No sense both of us losing sleep over one misfire of psyche. Half light in the mess, couple plotters and binders poked listless fried protein and I took my separate peace with a cup of the juice. Sick sweet chemflavor kicked caffeine to my heart and guts enough to winnow away the hours trying a dozen different flavors of artificial spice on artificial food, feeling artificially alive.

DeeDee showed in first after rollout, guy was never not angry at me over some shit, angry at something, put a lot of that through the lines good for us. Hellis always hung round, I specced on their afterhours but never pried the privates. Wouldn't have minded a bunk with either, but oh well. Shadow Jumper and Stepper and Jenny and so on filing their way through gallons of sickening juice and overcooked daybreak. Ari was last in, skulking through the rising shine and din of the mess, caught a tangle of her eyes but crowds were parting our ways.

"See how long you last without that filter, you'd hurl minimal," Jenny kept prodding at Scatter Hawk putting away more forkfulls than any two of us, just grunting back, while DeeDee yelled down the table at Stepper over horrendous and audible farts. I couldn't find a minute to catch Ari's eyes, roll em back and forth with mine, she was digging a hole through her tray.

I spent a frustrated week shipping past her nights. Some asshole I learned was apparently in charge of the squad demanding press-ups and running laps spin wise. Got mad when I said we don't use any muscles and I had to do extra sit-ups, and I threw up and didn't see Ari in the lockers. Tear down on the crab, coming and she was on her grease stained way showers, grimacing. Asleep when I catted around her doors at the odd hours. Anxiety in my spare space left my skin crawling. Ran into her at the psyche cracker and said hey, how you doin? Ari said, "Fine," with those tangled up eyes.

"You okay? I do something you wanna talk?" Whatever was left inside my skull felt like it wanted me to vomit it through my ports. My intestines wanted my skin rippled.

She shook her head. "It's not. You're good, you're good, I just." She shook her head again, tugged the hem of her shirt. Bless I was horny as fuck but just wanted to untangle her eyes, please.

"Listen, I got-"

"Casey!" The skull breaker slid its door up. Check-in time, its glassed eyes and masked mouth glittered, jovial work for a septic system.

"Ari, one second doc. Hey."

Backing down the hall, miming apologies. "I'll see you around Case."

I got a good grade from the psyche. "Very little degradation today," it exclaimed. "Your connectivity must have been quite well balanced! If you maintain this synchronization, we can expect to keep memory and autonomic function nearly optimal. Please ensure you take your supplements to maintain neural plasticity, excellent work!"

It always ignored my questions so I didn't ask anymore but one time I looked up "autonomic" and I was not very excited about the implications. Clacked Ari's door on the way back roomwards, to no result. Shut my door hard, rattled more beauties down my gullet and lay on the floor, tossed aside my psyche chart with all its healthy green and admonishing yellow. Degradation did not feel minimal, I was fragile with worry and my body wanted to fly apart, uncontained by the shell and trembling with skin crawling fear. Nothing flattened, the spin felt too fast, and I wiped confused wetness off my face. I clenched fists to my sides and shook uncontrollably. When would the drop would come?

Rolled out and rounded up came down soon enough against my liking. Marched our asses cross to the bay and posted us up. The squad leader looked uniquely miserable for each syllable of "Kitten Candy! Raccoon Enchantment!" He might actually kill me if he figures out how I changed our call signs.

Ari lurked behind me, sleep deprivation coming off her in radiant heat. I'd woke on the aching floor to rollout chimes, back still sharp from the sleep I should've skipped. She'd been doing teardown some long hours fore we got the callout. "Since you two reliably fuck up anything more complicated than bright colors and shapes, you're doing drop targeting. Three sites, think you can handle it?"

"Probably not, SIR!" I said, and he was not amused, Ari flopped hands affirmatively over the task a drone could do.

"Get synced up because that's the mission. Fuck off, the adult pilots are talking."

Could've argued, didn't, not with the halides in my skull and Ari walking away for the wasp. "Hey! Hey." Caught up around and walked with her. "Lotta radio silence, you good? I mean, girl, you look like shit, but you good?" We reached the lift. My hand was more tentative on her shoulder than my first time trying on a bra. "Are, like, are we? You know, did I say something?"

"Shit, you're fuckin impossible," Ari pulled a smile from an awful place. "Never said nothing except all I wished-" She started climbing. "Ah, fuck off, you know you're good. So good I want... like, fuck. I'm good. Had feedback something fierce this week. Hcch." I walked behind her, hand at her back and lifted, she grabbed my wrist. "C'mon, bitch, gimme a boost up."

The tech up top had the wasp open, long tongue dangling, pink, dripping ready to enfold. The mandibles were an umbrella over us, the whole cockpit slung between a sensaray and fire platform up front and the main gun taking up most of the thorax, flightless wings for short jumps and bristled with beams and missiles webbed into veins and live nerves. Ari stripped off her clothes and I helped her with the mass of thick tubes dangling from the soft flesh of the wasp's underbelly. Gentle with the catheter while she gripped my shoulder, taping the skin contacts on, then slipping the fat red sync cables and their gently writhing filaments into the sphincter along her neck and spine.

"Hey." I looked up from making stirrup hands and Ari's fingers lifted me from kneeling. "You be here when we come back, kay? I don't wanna open this cage if I don't see your ugly mug waiting."

"You fuckin wish," I said. "Believe, I'll be here, I got nothing better to do."

She had that smile, eyes almost past her tangle. "Yeah, what the fuck do I care, you're just, like. Well fuck you, anyway, you better be here, no excuses."

I put my hands together and knelt. "No excuses, bitch." She stepped into me and I hoisted her up until the closing mandibles caught her and pulled her the rest of the way in. The wasp began to breathe, the metal and polymer exoskeleton tightening as it straightened. The multiplicably enfolded legs flexed all their joints. I made my way from Ari's lift to my own, perspective and spin distorted neath my crab all encompassing the view and my world. The stairway to its cockpit was considerably longer, but no aid was needed. Sixfold mandibles waited for me, tubes lay cross the steel grate for my own administration. That same tech still couldn't look as I stripped and strapped. Didn't need help with my ports, just held crab's feelers up and they squirmed their way to the intimate fibers of my spinal cord. I sighed and my ports contracted to pull the connections deeper to the nerve.

The tech muttered, "I can't cope with the freaky shit," stepped off lively. Probably thought I couldn't hear as I wound myself into the folds of the crab's intimacy, and was encased in the dark. The peristaltic folds squeezed and swallowed me into the wet warm depths in the heavy polycombine plate armor of our turret. Impact gel, amniogel, blood and mucus flowed over my feet and hands, the added nerves and plasm more deeply fusing us. I felt my vision shriveling through a tunnel, my gritty eyes black in my skull, each muscle of my limbs unfurled from bones to thread themselves into the limbs of a colossus. My spine grew through my skin to blossom across a carapace and turret, flexed my claws and the wide flat armor wings across my back, felt the hangar through its myriad complex electrical systems and programs running in constant state of adjustment. I could smell the synapses of the crew inside the rig, all the redundant added systems, multiple layers of security, still so vulnerable inside this soft underbelly. My web crackled and fluttered along my body. I could kill everyone around me with a thought and leave only my fellow, slumbering shells for company.

I vacuumed air through my body and filters, hundreds of pounds in a breath. Piece by piece I cut my mind free of its cage, each part of it a point in a web of a thousand stars to guide my way. How had I ever let myself believe I could be human? How could I be when I was this, so much more, the parts of my mind I never before realized were incomplete. Destroy me, I urged the crab. Consume the last of my flesh and bones, and let me free once and for all. I slipped my claws out of their bands and tested link with wasp - with Ari. She vibrated enthusiasm, her stimulant chemicals were flooding overtime, and I selected the clam path of her many input and system indexes to aid her, grant her focus to the still before the burn. The dropship waited and we obliged, neither of us patient for departure and planet fall, once again to taste the alien atmosphere and feel true gravity pull at our tissue and joints.

Countdown for slow minutes, and we jammed to our sync. I felt at peace, each part of my psyche sliced from itself, and we lay distributed across our body, through small cortexes fired with the parts of my consciousness. We ticked through systems and my subconscious night terrors spooled into projectors while my self sense expanded to the decom in preparation for target tracking. Ari and I could feel one another as we synced, her slender body and long legs torquing their secondary legs into alignment. Her deepest horrors became a narrow band of foci, accompaniment to each one of her eight gun placements

We swayed for a minute as the drop slid out through the bay doors til thrusted still in a white noise of rocket and atmosphere. Open doors spilled a flurry of blinding light and boiling air. We cut the cord and took flight. Fission cycled to jets and Ari soard around my less graceful lander module decel, both flirtatious and efficient. Earthshaking on point, I breathed in the beacon for the first drop target, then pulled myself free of deeply fertile soil, felled the odd red thornbush in the way of our determinedly stealth free journey. Ari was more nimble in her travels, caught us both up fair to the prep kit. My decom swept all sides of the range for crevices of organized blue, and looked through my wavspec for tattletale knurled arms and segmented torso trunks.

"Whistle clean," I thrummed to Ari and she slipped up through to the prep barely shifting a twig. My hearts beat in time to her showy work then my pace crushed the evidence in passing. Exultation flooded my glands and fluttered my filtration, we set to the lungs of the future. My claws could lift and move enough whilst Ari's more dexterous complex digits hooked in power, nutrient starter, bacteria loads. All color coded and writ large enough couple pilots couldn't fuck it up, track records notwithstanding. Few hundred and we'd be able to turn the toxic swamp of atmosphere to nearly breathable. Plenty for firsts, let them deal with the messy genes for the twenty-threes to come later. Not us, not our yards and acres of lungs filtered enough to breathe near vacuum. Minutes confirmed the bactomix was good, and we beamed our confirmation.

"Nice and tidy," Ari observed the dirt churned circle round the target. I tasted the ground, messy but starter ready.

"Good enough. It'll be dust in a year anyway. Grab a ride?" We're supposed to march it point to point, no riders no passengers, but it's slow n tedious. She grappled to my exo instead. Put a safe-ish distance from the drop target, hunkered. Earth churned to mud and boiled around my feet as we sank down, I wrenched all I could from dirt rocks clay, sprayed hot waste out my vents, and we exploded into the air on jets carved from living thorns and earth, second drop in record time. Nothing rumbled I could spec but still. "Tastes sour," I trembled contact to contact. Ari slithered down and crouched near my shoulder.

Moments she said, "It's stilled air, might be some action crosswinds." Her wings flexed a bit and we looked for the petrichor druid chemsign. At range I could pick out just the echo of their craft, the sizzle of their spells registered a bare zero zero DV scale. "Specced it, action's noways near," I thrummed between us. "Sus, though, we're ahead of schedule, let's walk it." She affirmed, and we moved like glass, opened the target pack and specced every step.

Thorns still, sharp rocks earth clay uphill still, air still, but the maddening aquamarine fuzz of rain cluttered my sights. Ari flexed her wings on her thorax again, rocket platforms twitched nervously. "There's too much fizzing," she hissed, picking up my discomfort. Gauss guns on her sensary pointed hither and yon. "Fuck it," I thrummed, "Bact's good, bail." She mounted me from behind and we dug in the dirt, boiled and processed and locked. Branches burst up from earthbound as every spec greenlined on me, and I screamed in sickeningly fractured agony.

I could feel my exo cracking where the branches of an Atlas banyan crushed around three of my legs, pain and fluids pouring out of my body. Had to be a twin trunk, at least. Even my spiracles bled. Jagged shapes stung my left claw and numbed one of my injured legs. I could hear Ari's screeching and felt her weight shift from me to the ground. My specs were greened out in swampfire, I could taste the ozone and my own charred exo, but I was blind.

"I can't scope!" Ari's panic crackled and echoed through my body, fuled the rush of toxic stims and lit up my heat sinks bright from overclock. "I'm on it, I've got guidance," I lied, throwing a narcofilter into com. I dialed in broad spec and fired a wave of chaff, unspooled PDN for mass nightmare. Swapped high-speed into UV infra sonic organize scope range til I could line out the elves. Ari's screeches spiraled in time to hits I felt in my neuron clusters, dirt and rocks rattled from being skywards. Contermanded a second hit of stims in my system, cooled collect.

Instant recovery between the chaff and PDN. The stinging cold geometry faded its intensity on my exo. I experienced the reward of disrupted Atlas' soundscreams enduring the mortifying ordeal of being scoped. Shortburst the dial range to Ari. Caught backflow of her relief. Found the seconds we needed to move.

The Atlases were over halfway out of the soil, still partly wrapped their heavy branches over Ari and me. Quad trunks, fuck. Druid support, double fuck. The fully exposed organizing casters ways off, spec a kilo or two, but their alien decoms were holding up to the PDN. I pulled back to Ari and my pain receptors shut off the instant my legs twisted and shed broken exo like ice, steel grinding itself each movement. I checked her stat. Half a leg and one wing had been torn off. Her body was coated with slick black and green fluid, mixed with white foam. Her secondary leg was intact and functional, but I could see six bad hits from those light spears.

I cut loose a second wave of chaff, narrowed for the type-beta shieldworks from the druids, scattered an arch of green spears - I put my wings and claws out front to do their job just in time to take the secondary hit of jagged blue geometry. My back legs twisted excessively past their limit. The tri-polyplate claws held, mostly, some smoldering layers blasted free and others melted. I tight focused neural disruptors at the Atlases, cut more chaff, joyed at their screams of fear and agony. "Ari, my target." She swayed but unfolded her stabilizer struts, hit one of them with three rockets, a particle shot, and a full sec from the gauss, frosted it's decom and tore up the left half of its body. Glistening dark blue blood exploded across the other two and it laid out, alive but no threat. Heat fins spread wide open white hot underside her wings, her legs. "Casey your fuckin legs they-"

I flickered low beams at the druids, didn't connect but gave em a minute to think, redirected a broad neural disrupt at our six, more encouraging screeches, I filled the crab with the worst of my mind to saturate multiple kilometers in the PDN of my own fears and nightmares. "Ari, not now, cover."

Even on a wing and half a leg she was a beautiful flower of agony, spread of rockets, heavy beams, blistered depslugs streaking from her to seek the druids proved weakest by their alchemical conversion to bright blue explosions of blood and bone. Steamed heavy off her sink. The second Atlas was fighting up through my disrupt. I hit it with a PDN flare mix, and didn't catch the green blue spellwork shield crackling twixt its bark til I had to duke it.

The Altas caught a claw with one limb, put two more into my main body, right center, and I was overwhelmed by the vomit stench of my tissue and exo and endo rupturing, polymuscles shredded, but I boiled my feet in deep with stage one for jump, and got my other claw on its middle trunk. My com was choking garbled but I said, "Ari-" before I felt the left rear third joint sheer and snap.

She was to me before I could waver with her forelegs' high beam up to max in its face. Light hotter than stars burst the banyan into three flaming pieces, sheer through the trunk, bloodless, charred beyond recognition in a second. She buzzed me. "We can't stay." The last of the Atlases was pulling a highdef organized multiplier out of the earth. Looked like pine tree trunk but carried in a single limb. I specced another Atlas closing. One good HDOM shot would dust my armor. One bad shot would vaporize Ari. "You're right."

I tried to spool up, but the PDN was dead, so I blasted chaff along the ground in front of the Atlas. Give it some hot shrapnel to work through, dialed the rest for max dispersal, and cut three quarters skyward. "Grab a lift," I snarled and she was on me. "And set your main."

The earth churned and my legs threatened to give, but held. "Case. I tried that last week, rec? I couldn't hit shit."

"Yeah. You tried it. We didn't." I hit the jump, we caught sky.

Ari's limbs folded around my body, and her remaining claws clamped, support struts pierced my exo secondary limbs unfolded to add more stability. She shifted the main rifle forward from inside her thorax and opened the remaining wing, heat vents fully extended, coolant spraying out of her wounds as it pumped triple time through her sinks. Her thorax flexed heavy with breath and the gun's wiring and nerve rigs flushed the scent of her excited musk around us. I wrapped my three remaining legs up over my body and clung to her, spun us with my wings on our axis. We had a beautiful aerial view of the remains of our own ambush, our legs fallen close like hands of dying lovers.

The main gun of the wasp would not be possible to see if we had human eyes. A three stage system requiring the finest care with aiming and multiple stabilizers to the firing platform ensuring a clean hit, combined with full heat dispersal for blowback. It would break up shield and decoms, disruptors and polyplate, followed instantly by a particle beam depslug mixture.

I wrapped my claws over her cockpit segment and she fired. The slug obliterated the Atlas, its multiplier detonating and spraying organized green spears haphazardly with blue geometry. The drop target went up and threw a cloud of concentrated bacto over what looked like eight kilometers. I saw the beam digging a canyon through the earth moments before the bacteria and debris blacked the site.

We were thrown, I lost a second leg and both wings. Deaf to coms. My chaff clattered off us, shredded our armor. The full thorax and both of Ari's rear legs were torn away by recoil and a furnace blast of overheating power couplings as I held fiercely, even when my left claw was cleanly severed by the last flash of the beam and my main body punctured and boiled by her shrapnel. I realized I wasn't deaf, I simply was unable to hear anything except Ari screaming and lost valuable seconds - nothing to see but sky and only rushing air over our spinning bodies.

I jetted waste from my secondary vents, they spat angrily but caught air. Risked it, held Ari with my only two legs and put my claw between us and the freight train rush up on drop target three. I hoped enough was left of her to hear me shout, "Impact Impact Impact!"

The ground was very wide and very fast and black. It was-

Nothing. Black.

Casey. Casey. You need to get up.

"Casey," Ari's hiss was a near inaudible comm. "Casey please... I can't move my legs."

I specced, half blind, dialed it through. There was a flicker of distant green. Move. I felt joints and plastic muscle, raw tissue and white foam dig the earth, I moved in a little circle. The drop ship was waiting - no pilot, just auto for a grunt mission in and out.

"I'm up," I lied to Ari. She hissed, "I know you aren't." I specced myself. One leg could move, claw somehow intact, thank you polyplate. Other legs just partial joints, trailed their hydraulics and burned nerves. Quarter chopped off the rear platform. "Am so," I thrummed and put my claw in the ground, levered. Slid my partial legs underneath and my one good one up. "I'm up." I started pushing myself along the earth.

Felt like dragging the big protein drums on kitchen duty, couldn't lift much as rock myself back and forward one side at a time. I found what was left of Ari.

"How's it look," she hissed. One of her two remaining legs was shattered in half a dozen places, congealed foam doing nothing for the fluid leaks. Her other leg might last. Sensary might even be salvageable. There were holes gaping in her deformed cockpit, gel and blood oozing through cracks. "Looks great," I thrummed. "You lost so much weight."

Her laugh wheezed. "You got one good leg Ari, I need you to hitch a ride." She fumbled in the mud and found the tattered edge of my exo, dragged herself half onto what was left of my main body, and I pushed. Her voice was distant now, "Hey Case, remember that night fight, we jumped a bunch of elves with a flashblind."

Just a few meters. "Yeah, pretty funny. Guess they remembered us." She wheezed again, her comm was rattling. "And that time we used ice for heat sig?" My claw hit metal. I strained on the loading ramp without traction. "That was pretty good too, yeah." Fuck it. I grabbed one of the less important control struts and heaved, pulled. Felt my innards and Ari slither along metal, almost home. One more pull. "Hey Casey, hey. Remember when the fuckin elves ambushed us with our same dumb ideas and you thought I should shoot em on the jump."

I punched the recall code, the hatch cranked shut, dumped the tangled mess of our bodies into the drop bay. Acceleration crushed us. "Yeah Ari, that wasn't the best idea ever." The rig loomed up. "Right Ari? I'm an idiot." The comm was quiet.

We were in the bay and I was in a pool of sludge. I could feel my legs and arms and bruises and my own real blood on my face. I could walk and and almost stand, crawling clambering falling down the lift stairs before the tech could say anything. He slipped after me, clutched railing and tried to keep his footing in the mucus as I went sidewinding to our sad and shattered shells, tech prying open the jaws of Ari's with hydraulic levers.

I shoved through as the seal cracked, reek of poisoned atmos and stagnant amniogel, the snap of bone and it fell open, pouring Ari onto the hanger floor, washed up against me. I was on my knees, she was in my arms. Bone showed through one of her broken legs and a bloody hole in her ribs frothed blood. Her bottom lip split so bad I could see her shattered teeth sticking through it. Blood from her ears, nose, eyes, whole body a contour map of bruises.

Ari's one good eye cracked and she gurgled wet and rough, "You look like shit, Case." She spit blood.

"Told you. No excuses bitch."

"Fuck. No exchs." Nitrile gloved hands pulled us apart, and meds were shoving tubes into her, slapping dermals on her. They had a stretcher. Someone shone a light in my eye, I felt the cold slap of a dermal on my shoulder blade. "No excuses," I slurred as loud as I could. He said, "You shouldn't be standing up." I didn't know if Ari could hear. "I'm gonna be waiting!" They hit me with another dermal and goodnight.

It was like that for awhile, before I could go back to my bunk. Lot of debrief, I got a commendation, which mostly meant some extra cash in my account if I lived to spend it. Some looks. DeeDee came by and said "Mad respect." Scatter stopped in with some nearly not paint thinner whiskey. Squad leader came in and chewed me out. Then some days in my smaller, worse bed. I lay on my clothes and punched back painkillers and beauties, then got out of my space and flipped the latch on Ari's room to get into hers.

It looked the same. Laundry unlaundered, whiffs of fermented sweat and sex, crumpled up wrappers for hot sauce, thermalprint hentai, congealed shampoo and soap blocks. I held a tanktop to my face and inhaled, poked around her trash listlessly til I saw a scrap of print. Her last psyche, pages of red and yellow, warnings cautions, parts of it printed red on black. I banged out of her room with it clenched in my hot fist, storming along the counter spin corridors to Ring 2.

Medical. Deep breath. I pushed the door in and gave Ari the biggest smile I could muster and she asked, "Oh no. What's wrong," from where she was still ensconced in tubes to keep her lungs working while the biogels slowly closed her skin over. "What do you mean, what's wrong," I forgot to separte teeth for talking. Maybe a couple weeks before she was walking wounded. "You got a smile like you dropped a battery pack on your foot."

She looked better with her lips stitched back together. Her new front teeth were steel. I blinked and shook and pursed my lips so I wouldn't snarl when I unfolded the psyche chart she'd left balled up under her desk. Needles prickled along my feverish forehead. Tried to find words as she shifted her eyes away from mine and just said, "Oh. That."

I dropped it on her stomach. "Why? You could've- It... Why?" I've been called poetic in my time.

Ari started to bite her lip then stopped. Rubbed her eyes with her palms. "Ow. Everything hurts - Casey, what are you gonna do when you get outta here?"

"Because you can- Huh?" I blinked several more times rapidly. "Uh, I dunno. Little place with some twenty-threes? Maybe a dog? Nothing too special, just wanted a shot at like... living yeah?"

"But you think about it and... y'know, you see something?"

"Yeah, I guess, I mean a little. Who knows?"

She shut her eyes. "Well I didn't see anything." Squeezed her eyes. "I didn't think I'd- Case, I didn't come here for a shot at living. I... didn't see that. That idea." Tears slipped out of her eyes and she grimaced, shoved her hands against them. "I never planned to live that long," her breath hitched.

I didn't know what to do with my hands, whether to move over to her, or what. I nodded to her closed eyes, felt stupid. "Ari, I'd, uh, like it if you did."

She let out a long breath and opened damp eyes. "That's what, I mean, I met you. It's been good, and like. I realized I had started thinking about it."

"Thinking about it?"

"About being alive. Somewhere there, I mean, like, I thought about that I might want a future if it had you in it. And I guess I freaked about the idea it might not happen, and I wanted to keep you somewhere safe where I wasn't going to mess that up."

I folded my arms. "Ari, I fucking swear." She looked back at me. "I don't care how much it hurts, move the fuck over right now, I'm gonna hug you so bad you break another four ribs."

She slid a bit, and I managed to half lay in the bed around the IV tubes. I managed not to break her ribs. Big, stupid and hot tears dripped down my cheeks and nose as I squeezed, then grabbed her hands in mine. "Every day you wake up. I'll give you that future. You might not see yourself and that's okay because you'll see me, and I hope that's enough."

"I kinda kinda love you bitch," I clutched her tight. She kissed me, stitches rough against my lips, and smiled as she did. "You can stay," she said.

"I'll stay." And I did.

[tparker48]

There was an event going on in the frat houses on the northside of campus, giants and tinies alike jumping at the chance to go as they ventured to the dorms past the trees. Along with them, was Packer, curious at the thought of mingling with the big leagues. Perhaps this was his chance to get involved, but didn’t know for sure if it was a good idea. But then again, he wouldn’t know if he stayed in his room the whole night. With that dreadful thought swirling in his mind, he decided to go, if only to hush the rushing thought in his head. He followed along the smaller barricades, fellow tinies walking inside while the rest of the towering giants waited along the stairs next to him..

 The benefits of being small, he presumed. Electric music welcomed his ears, booming through the dimmed room as he followed the crowd through two paneled doors. Lanterns stacked along the walls, casting its crimson glow as strobe light flashed the panels above. Along the main floor, many danced to the beat of the music, Tinies shrouded by pairs of tapping legs as giants danced higher above. It was vibrant, too vibrant for Packer’s taste. He moved around the crowd to the small escalators, taking it to the higher floors as he looked to the crowd below. It was there that he spent most of his time, observing the many students as drinks passed around to the jocks and cheerleaders along the floor. Taking a swig of from his straw, fluid started to build inside him, his cock flexing for release as it bulged into his pants.

“Damn it, I drank too much.” he said, waddling toward the padded cushions along the couch. Hopping off the desk, He followed the table toward the groups surrounding it. He could barely hear his own voice, the booming music from the speakers.

“Hey!..Yo! Does anyone know where the bathroom is?” He asked the surrounding crowd,  falling on deaf ears as they laughed and sipped their drinks. He tried waving to the passersby, fanning down anyone that would look down. Their had to be someone who would look, he thought

Continuing to wave at the crowd, one of the students turned his way, their cheeks growing red as they swayed around. “Hey, do you think you can tell me where the bath-” they fell onto the counter, Their hair casting over him like a net.

 He was snagged upwards. toggling at the strands of hair as he spun through the air. He tried to call out them in efforts to cease floundering, but it was to no avail, the drunk student continuing to move like a madman as they tossed around the couches. It was only when they cock his head did he finally get his wish, spinning through the air as he fell into  a sponge-like opening.

“And this is why I don’t drink.” he groaned, massaging his back to ease the impact.

 His gaze soon turned to the space around him, its walls surrounding him in a cylinder-like pattern. Clumps of rubber spiraled upwards to the slitted opening above, smell of dried musk flaring his nose as his face warmed. Where was he anyway? It wasn’t like any couch he saw out there, let alone a chair. He wobbled to his feet, his toes seeping into something slimy as it touched his sandals. Its texture was White as snow, gooey in nature as it soaked into his feet. It smelled salty, fresh as if someone..fucked it.

The area shook, muffled voices echoing outside as his body met the rubbery walls. Tapping from a microphone drowning them out.  "Alright ladies and gentlemen, we got a very special game. It's time for our contestants to come up, and play a game of ‘Can You Fill It!!’ "

He puzzled at the words, looking to the opening as shadows danced on the outside. The realization dawned upon him, this space wasn’t just a tube, it was a fleshlight. Rumbling came from below, straps locking from the walls before steps lingered. A sharp squeak came from the entrance, a nozzle squeezing its way through the opening as clear liquid oozed from it. It squirted a thick stream, sending a tidal wave of lube through the tube before it washed Packer to the bottom. It was so slick to move through, his feet slipping from beneath him as he splashed into the translucent puddle.

“Hey, I’m in here you know! Stop the game!” He said, floundered against the rubber.

"Looks like the contestants are ready. Let’s say we get this party started with our beloved host of the party.” The announcer said. ” Give them a round of applause as the first crack of this thing."

A shadow loomed over the opening, taking to the plastic lips like a stamp before it caved in. A bulbous head stuck its way into the folds, the slit in the center smacking with drool that mixed with the contents inside. It wormed its way through the rubbery tube, bulldozing into him as it crashed at the bottom. His torso was subdued, locked in place by the massive cockhead as white drool spilled into his chest. It was warmer compared to the gunk that drenched his toes, thick as it lubricated his face. As the slit retracted, the shaft began to thrust slowly, steamrolling over his body as it tapped at the end of the fleshlight.

He was bombarded,plunging into its spongy walls by the cock’s flesh as it retracted to the top. He placed his palms in front  to block the protruding manhood, but its kiss eventually met his form, carrying him with it embrace as it tossed him around. It drooled more, filling a puddle at his shoulder and along the rubbery folds. It was there that it finally erupted, unleashing a tidal wave of milky seed as it waves crashed at his back. It rose higher, the cockhead nuzzling into his body while splooging into his lap. Only a pool of warm cum remained, filling a portion of the chamber that rocked with each twist along the outside. 

He emerged, gasping as he wiped its substance from his face. “Ugh that in my mouth.”

 "What a wonderful display folks, as expected from our grand host. Now it's for the other two participants."

There was more? He didn't think he could handle another blast of that kind of magnitude. But the feeling seeped in that he had no choice, looking to the rubbery slit that pulled apart like a curtain as a thinner cock entered the cave.  Its slitted mouth gaped as it drank the seed filling the chamber, charging through the puddle like a torpedo. It crashed against the bottom, Packer barely having time to think before the shaft retracted and rushed again, pumping itself through the chamber as its aggressive grunts boomed outside. Dodging its strike through the tube, his foot snagged against the shroomed edges, its inertia pinning him beneath its underbelly and into the milky puddle. Cum filled his nose, seeping into his mouth as he dragged to and from the entrance. 

His back ached, and his vision dimmed as grinding filled his ears. Pressure increased as the rubbery walls flattened beneath him. The sound of water releasing filled the space, the girth of the cock bulging as its surface cushioned at his back. Seed erupted into the chamber once more, its wave split by a fold in the walls as it drizzled the corners. Its climax was quicker than the hosts, but more rough as its Rigid cock grinded at his back.

"The Alpha captain certainly knows how to rock it ay folks?" The announcer said, the roars of people echoing around the tube. "But it's time for Big Willy to take the stage."

Packer launched from the pool of seed “For who?!” 

 The crowd grew concerningly softer, heavy steps replacing them before a shadow cast over the slit. When a heavy thud came from the ceiling, A cock peered its ugly head inside, crowned by a layer of loose skin  that peeled back by the lips. When it pushed into the tube, he fell backwards as the ground slipped beneath him, Rubber grinding against flesh as the cock made its way deeper.

Its mass clogged the lips as it slithered its way into the tube, like a trash compactor as its walls compressed the space inside. He clinged to the walls, looking for gaps to cushion its blow, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to run as its girth flattened the folds beneath its meat.

He placed his palm along the bulky head, his sandals sliding off as his toes glided against the floor. When it crashed at the bottom, he wheezed as straps snapped on the outside, the skin unraveling over his head to bring him into its frowsty embrace. The space beneath the cock’s hood was like a blanket, warmth filling his face as the shroomed head coated with slime, tucking beneath his chin as the skin morphed around his  neck.

It was there, the pounds began. The sound was softer compared to the fleshlight, Squelches shrouding them while claps echoed through his ears. His stomach compressed upon the cock head’s weight, tenderized by its beating thrusts in efforts to satisfy its owner. The skin climbed higher over him, the thick meat pounding him into a flesh pocket as it wrapped around him.

"Look at him go folks, Big Willy's giving it his all in this competition. And it's only a matter of time before this volcano blows." The announcer said.

The grinds increased at a startling rate, Hinges creaking from the corners of the fleshlights as they withstood Big Willy's wrath. In a matter of moments, he felt butterflies in his  stomach when a hard snap muffled outside, his prison smothering him into the clammy skin as they used his head  like a Q-tip. His stomach continued to toss around, the pressure of the head not helping in the matter as it nudged against him. But it seemed to have grown worse, when a moan came from the outside. The skin surrounding him yanked off, the head retreating to the middle of the fleshlight. 

It hovered over like a dark eclipse, the slit sputtering as if it were about to speak. A wad shot from its lips, striking the walls before it smothered the folds in a waterfall of seed. Its flow grew, sending the cum around the chamber as he swirled to the very top. As it floated him  toward the shaft, he clinged to the loose skin for leverage, fighting against the current that threatened to take him under. It soon settled when heavy grunts ceased outside, bubbles coming from a gap in the opening  as cheers roared outside.

"What a wonderful display of dominance, Willy still holds the championship for the fourth year in a row. Just look at that smile on his face."

He clinged to the skin, weakly crawling into the pocket as his body slipped against it. When he thought he finally had a hold against it, the head dropped into the sea of seed. Granting him shelter beneath the skin, but not without sending the seed to Packer’s shoulders. As it crashed at the bottom of the fleshlight, it sat upon his legs as giant steps boomed around.

“Hey! Can anyone hear me! Let me out of here!”

**********************************************

Outside, The party dispersed from the event table to the surrounding activities, Big willy guiding himself through the crowds of people to the drink tables along the walls. He heard cheering from the left of him, cheerleaders palming a chant in his triumph as he swigged at his drink. An admirable reward he must say, it was nice to have praise for such a normal feat. But it didn't compare to the tightness that surrounded his manhood, the shaft hanging from his cock by the fleshlight. This was what he was proud of, the fullness surrounding his cock, the collection of his own seed mixed with others. It was a true sign of his champion title, and so he wore it with pride. Fondling over the milky liquid dripping into his pants, he couldn’t help but focus on the feeling inside. It was like being sucked by a really hot girl, but something tingly added to the sensation, like a tongue lapping at his skin. He didn't know what it was, but it felt good. He dropped the fleshlight to let it bob at his pants, taking another glass as he enjoyed the frat party.

[unitedflooring]

From Gyms to Kitchens: The Ultimate Guide to Rubber Flooring Solutions

Introduction

When it comes to flooring, rubber might not be the first material that comes to mind. However, its versatility, durability, and stylish floor designs make it an excellent choice for various spaces, from gyms to kitchens. In this ultimate guide, we’ll explore the numerous rubber flooring benefits and why it might just be the perfect solution for your next flooring project.

Why Choose Rubber Flooring?

Rubber flooring offers a range of benefits that make it a popular choice in both commercial and residential settings. Here’s a closer look at some of its key advantages:

Durability: Rubber flooring is incredibly durable and can withstand heavy foot traffic, making it ideal for high-traffic areas like gyms and kitchens. Its resilience ensures that it maintains its appearance and functionality for years.

Comfort: One of the standout rubber flooring benefits is its comfort. The material provides a cushioned surface that’s gentle on the feet and joints, reducing fatigue and making it perfect for areas where you stand for long periods, such as kitchens.

Safety: Rubber flooring is naturally slip-resistant, providing a safer environment in spaces prone to spills and moisture, such as kitchens and bathrooms. This slip resistance is a significant advantage in gym settings as well, where safety is paramount.

Noise Reduction: Rubber’s dense structure helps in absorbing sound, making it an excellent choice for minimizing noise in busy households and echo-prone gym environments.

Eco-Friendly: Many rubber flooring options are made from recycled materials, contributing to environmental sustainability. This eco-friendly aspect is a significant selling point for those looking to make greener choices in their home improvement projects.

Low Maintenance: Rubber flooring is easy to clean and maintain. Its resistance to stains and spills makes it a practical choice for kitchens and other areas where messes are common.

Stylish Floor Designs

Gone are the days when rubber flooring was limited to dull, utilitarian designs. Today, rubber flooring comes in a wide array of stylish floor designs that can complement any decor. Whether you’re looking for a sleek, modern aesthetic or a warm, traditional look, there’s a rubber flooring option to suit your style.

Colors and Patterns: Rubber flooring is available in a vast range of colors and patterns. From bold, vibrant hues to subtle, neutral tones, you can find the perfect match for your design vision. Patterned rubber tiles can add a unique visual interest to any space.

Textures and Finishes: In addition to color and pattern options, rubber flooring also comes in various textures and finishes. You can choose from smooth, matte surfaces to textured, non-slip finishes, depending on your aesthetic and functional needs.

Customizable Designs: Some rubber flooring manufacturers offer customizable options, allowing you to create bespoke designs that reflect your personal style. This customization can be particularly appealing for creating unique kitchen flooring or adding a personal touch to your home gym.

Applications: From Gyms to Kitchens

Gyms: Rubber flooring is a staple in gym environments due to its durability, comfort, and safety features. It provides a stable surface for heavy equipment, reduces the risk of injury from slips, and helps absorb the impact of dropped weights, protecting both the floor and the equipment.

Kitchens: In the kitchen, rubber flooring shines for its ease of maintenance and comfort. Standing for long periods while cooking or cleaning is less tiring on rubber floors, and their slip-resistant properties enhance safety in an area where spills are common. Additionally, the wide range of stylish designs ensures that your kitchen floor can be both functional and beautiful.

Conclusion

Rubber flooring is a versatile, durable, and stylish solution for a variety of spaces. Whether you’re outfitting a home gym or revamping your kitchen, the numerous rubber flooring benefits make it a smart choice. Its combination of comfort, safety, ease of maintenance, and design options ensures that you don’t have to compromise on style to achieve a practical, high-performing floor.

By considering rubber flooring for your next project, you’re investing in a solution that’s built to last and enhance the beauty and functionality of your space. Explore the many stylish floor designs available and discover how rubber flooring can transform your gym or kitchen into a safer, more comfortable, and aesthetically pleasing environment.

[rawmeknockout]

i hate getaway with a passion. but i KNOW that dick is GOOD. there has to be a reason why he was one of the hottest mechs aboard (according to jro anyway) sooo uh. reader rly enjoying that nasty spike?

It’s hard doing clerical work all day. It’s a cushy job most of the time, the benefits are good enough, and your skill set is perfect for it. But the mechs are the most infuriating, frustrating, unpredictable part of it. The part that you can’t just push off until later or snap at. You would rather take your chances back sassing Ultra Magnus than any of the volatile mecha onboard the Lost Light.

The worst of them all: Getaway.

You can’t really put your digit on why he’s the worst. He’s charming and funny most of the time, he proclaims to hold Autobot values very close, and he’s well-liked. But in your experience, he can also be passive-aggressive and pushy. It’s not that he strong-arms you into anything, but… You’ve certainly learned he won’t take no for an answer. Even though you try to be as friendly and accommodating as possible, sometimes you just don’t have the solution crew members are looking for. No matter how many appeals they file.

You get the feeling Getaway thinks he can charm his way into anything if he tries hard enough. Maybe he thinks other mechs’ minds are just a lock that needs particular picking. Maybe he’s just not used to being told no. Either way, you don’t know how you gave him the impression you would want to sleep with him, but when he offers to bend you over your own desk for a hard frag…

It’s hard to say no when you’re forced to watch the most handsome mechs you’ve ever seen walk around the ship like their frames aren’t optic candy. So many handsome mechs and you’re so sure that your (unofficial) position as Magnus’ assistant makes all of them off limits. One bad decision in your tenure can’t be firing worthy.

Getaway’s thrusts shudder and jolt the precious silly novelty items on your desk, scattering your neat stack of datapads. If you had taken a moment to think through your decision, you would’ve put all your items away into your desk. That stupid Rodimus-shaped rubber duck (a present from the mech himself) topples to the floor with a mournful quack. You catch the barely stifled chuckle from Getaway, but you don’t think it’s very funny. You like that duck.

Offlining your optics, you focus on his spike inside you. It’s an agonizingly perfect fit, fucking into that soft spot inside your valve that’s somehow so difficult to find with digits alone. You meant to buy a false spike ages ago, but it slips your processor every time. It doesn’t help that your habsuite is smack dab in the middle of the hotspot for battles whenever there’s rogue Decepticons, or sparkeaters, or evil sentient plants that come out of a rift in reality that Brainstorm created. Using Getaway’s spike would be a much nicer, cheaper replacement for relief. Assuming he doesn’t make you buy him a drink first. Swerve’s prices haven’t gotten any cheaper.

Even though he’s clearly just as cocky about how he fucks as he is at his most renowned skill, Getaway certainly has a reason to be. Two of his slender digits press firm circles into your anterior node, completely neglecting your dripping spike, as he fills your valve. You’re entirely focused on humping his circling digits, the added pressure of having him inside you just pushes you closer to overload. His thrusts deep and rapid. It’s difficult to voice it, in fact you would rather die than say it, but you want him to keep fucking you through your overload. Into however many subsequent overloads he would deign to give you, toppling through them like dominos. The bite of your own desk against your hip plates, your servos clutching desperately at the edges, knowing a mech could walk in and see you, it’s a euphoria you want to clutch onto. You want Getaway to wear you down with the pleasure, use your valve until his transfluid drips down your thigh plating.

Clerical work is so thankless, all you want is one good night cycle to get you through it.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: The Price of a Life

Read on Ao3

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Ship: Joel Miller x you (cishet f reader)

Tags/warnings: Dubcon, rough piv sex, that thing when you want it but you're too dry so it hurts - don't do it please just don't, creampie, Joel is bossy, enemies with benefits, unprotected sex (it's a postpandemic military dictatorship, there ain't no condoms, but there is in the real world, so slap rubber on that meat before inserting it), canon typical violence.

Summary: You are a FEDRA agent who find Joel Miller outside the QZ, but let him go because he saves your life. The next time you meet, he thanks you in his own special way.

Words: 2,546

 You have just entered the building for a sweep when you hear a clatter in the next room. Pointing your gun and flashlight against the door, you approach it on light feet, your eyes fixed on the dark opening. Nothing more is heard, and you can’t see anything, so you enter and immediately check behind the door.

The room is cluttered with debris and dust, a mausoleum picked out by years of raiders. There's a pushed over wardrobe in the middle of it, and you move around it to secure the back of it.

In the same moment as you see him, a man stands up from behind the wardrobe, pointing a shotgun at you.

"Drop it," you command him immediately, shining the light into his face. You recognize him from the QZ: he's one of those who burn bodies. And he deals drugs, you know that, too. The local FEDRA agents are well aware of him breaking curfew and doing supply runs outside the QZ, but as long as he keeps his head down, keeps them with pills, and doesn't cause trouble, they're willing to look the other way.

Actually finding him here is another thing, though. There is no way you can look the other way now.

He's staring at you, eyes as black as coal. You know from hearsay how dangerous it is, but this is the first time you see it for yourself. He looks ready to leap at you: his broad body is as tense as a pulled bowstring. All he needs is a window, a crack, and he'll have you.

"I'm warning you," you add, but you know that this is just about who draws first. He will pull the trigger on you. He does not move, he barely even blinks.

That's when you hear the hiss slightly behind you. You turn your head towards it just as the infected monstrosity attacks, and in the next moment a gun goes off, the shot making your ears ring. You jump back, expecting to be hit, but the infected has stumbled onto the floor and is bleeding out fast.

Heart racing, you turn back to the man, gun pointed at him. He, in turn, has his shotgun pointed at the infected, but directs it immediately back to you.

You take stock of the situation, and twitch when your walkie crackles. Your CO wants a report on the shot.

The man is completely still, finger on the trigger, waiting for your next move. It only takes you a second to decide. You lower the flashlight but keep the gun pointed at him. You press the com button on the walkie-talkie.

"One infected, terminated. It's clear. I'm coming out."

You receive confirmation from your officer, and start to back out of the room, eyes and gun trained on the man, flashlight lowered. Even in the half dark, you can see his obsidian eyes watching your every move. When you're out the door, you stop for a second and just look at him.

Last chance.

You lower your weapon and leave the building. When you step out to the sunshine, you realize you've been holding your breath since the attack.

Night has descended and with it, curfew. You patrol the dark, deserted streets of Boston, nodding to a passer-by that you know from previous patrols: he works late, and has a permission slip. You're not going to bother him again. His droopy eyes and shuffling steps tell you everything you need to know: he just wants to get home, to his bed, and sleep for as long as he can before it all starts again tomorrow.

QZ night watch might seem much easier than running missions outside the city walls, but it's just another side of the same coin. You're on your own, and you know how dangerous smugglers can get. Your arm will always bear the scar from one that got a little too close with a knife once.

A searchlight from one of the watchtowers passes by, illuminating the street, before continuing over the buildings. In the wake of the passing light, you see a figure slipping out of an alleyway and hurrying across the street. You raise the rifle and switch on the flashlight.

"Stop!"

The figure does not slow down, so you start to run. It disappears into another alley, with you in pursuit. As you turn the corner, you run into a tall, broad frame. The rifle is yanked from you, and you're slammed face first into the brick wall. You're wearing a helmet, but the impact makes you bite your tongue, and the taste of blood fills your mouth.

Before you've even gotten a good look at him, you know that Joel Miller is standing right behind you, sturdy arm pressed against the back of your neck, the length of his body pressed up against you, one of your arms twisted behind you back.

You made inquiries about him, discreetly, after the episode outside the QZ. The things you found out would have been blood-curdling to pre-pandemic you, but since the outbreak, you've done some heinous shit yourself. Joel Miller’s rap sheet, had he had one, seems almost normal now.

In the harsh light of day, inside the QZ, you would watch him carry bodies and throw them onto the burning heap of dead people. His ruddy face half concealed behind a bandanna, he was still easily recognized by the gray in his dark hair, the scowling intensity of his stare, and the way he carried himself. He seemed to be fueled by a quiet rage that only needed a spark to flare up and consume everyone around him, moved with fatigued determination. He had boldly met your stare from across the pyre, and there was something about the look he gave you that moved something deep inside of you, something you thought was dead and forgotten.

"Release me," you now spit, trying to snake your other arm behind you, looking for a grip of his head. Joel twists your arm a little tighter, and you let out a hiss. A little more, and he'll dislocate your shoulder or break a bone.

"Any other weapons?" he demands in a low rumble that does something to you despite - or perhaps because of - the threatening tone.

"Glock. Right hip," you yield, and Joel quickly finds the holster, snaps it open, and pulls out the gun. You hear it clatter to the ground further away.

The second he's holding the gun, you shoot out from the wall, using the momentum to bang your head back against him, hitting his chin. He curses but slams you back against the wall, like you are just a ragdoll who didn’t just use all your strength to try to break free.

“Don’t do that again,” he tells you, “For your own good.” Is that amusement you hear in his voice?

You spit blood but stay still. Joel is pressing you against the brick wall with his body, and you haven’t had a man this close to you in… well, a long time. There’s something stiff rubbing against your ass cheeks and your head swims when you realize that it could be something other than his holster. His warm breath burns the little stretch of skin that shows at the back of your neck, between your helmet and jacket. You smell him; smoke and stale clothing with a hint of dusty leather. Swallowing, you hope he can’t feel your pulse, because your heart is racing at an embarrassing speed.

There’s a scratch of static from your walkie as the tower wants a report from you.

“Tell them everything is okay,” Joel says immediately, releasing you enough so that you can answer and confirm that all is well. As soon as your hand is off the HT, Joel captures your wrist and turns you around. Just as you face him, the moon breaks out from behind the clouds, and you gaze up at Joel’s face, lit by silvery light. He comes across as even more menacing in the cold moonlight that deepens the shadows in his face, sharpens his nose, makes the gray in his hair and beard almost glow. His glower is the same as before, but there is something else there: curiosity.

And something deeper, darker. Your gut drops, your pussy clenches.

“Please, let me go,” you ask him, ridiculously polite. Joel releases your hand and slides his palm up your arm, fingers closing around your throat as he eyes you so intensely that you find yourself wishing you could just sink through the ground.

“I will,” he lets you know in a voice that despite its calm lets you know that he’s issuing a threat, “but only after you take what I give you.”

You swallow hard when you realize what he means, and he feels your throat muscles flex. His thumb comes to a rest over your windpipe, rough pad caressing your prickled-over skin.

“I… I let you go earlier!” you stutter, mouth going dry, yet pussy growing wet. Joel smirks as he pushes down on your windpipe.

“I know.”

With that, he leans in as if to kiss you, but hovers right in front of your face. Your face burns in shame when you realize that you’ve come forward in anticipation of the kiss despite the added pressure on your windpipe. He cocks his head, the dark smirk spreading.

“You might enjoy this after all.”

He’s embarrassingly right. When he releases your hands to unzip your jacket, you just stand there, passive in the moonlight, letting him pull open your jacket to throw an almost uninterested glance at your chest. He proceeds to your belt, unbuckling it and pulling your pants down without ceremony, your shorts following.

“Let’s see what we’re dealing with,” he murmurs as he shoves his hand between your legs, fixing you with his stare. Burning under the intensity of his dark eyes, you want to cast down your eyes, but find yourself hypnotized by him. His fingers push through your wet lips, causing a shiver to run through you. You whimper when he slips one finger inside you, not far, but enough for you to clench around it.

His grin is infuriating and makes your cheeks burn even hotter.

"Just be quiet and it'll all be over soon."

I don't want it to be over soon. The thought lands in your mind, makes itself comfortable, and renders you pliable as Joel manhandles you so that you're back to facing the wall. You hear his belt buckle snap open, his hot breath is on your neck, and then you feel his stiff shaft at your entrance. You press your eyes shut in anticipation and whine when he starts to push inside. You're wet, but not wet enough for him to just slip in. The friction makes you groan, and Joel immediately covers your mouth.

"I said be quiet."

You bite back on another whimper as he pushes deeper. Sweat breaks out on your forehead and you lean it against the cold brick wall. You should stop this, you should elbow him in the side, fight back, bite his fingers to cease his slow, painful invasion. But you can't, and you won't. Your fingers grasp at the coarse wall, and you clamp your teeth together, and you take it, let him claim you, inch after unwilling inch. When he's all the way inside, hips connected to yours, he stops still, hand sliding slowly down until his fingers slowly curl around your throat. You stay completely still, afraid to move, unwilling to move in case your non-compliance inspires him to just leave you where you stand. And that is the last thing you want, to be discarded and disregarded by Joel Miller.

"Is this what you've been thinking about up in that high and mighty tower of yours?" he growls into your ear, pulling out a little before thrusting back in, making you choke on your held back moan.

"You've been thinking about me fucking you in an alley like this, haven't you? I could see it in your face the first time I laid eyes on you."

Your Yes comes out as a pathetic little snivel, and he rewards you with another thrust. Your pussy is beginning to coat him in enough lubrication to move with less resistance, but you're still gulping at how tight a fit you are providing him with.

He ruts into you, faster and harder as lubrication starts to permit more movement. Nailing you to the wall, he releases your throat and places his hands on your hips instead, to help him ravage you with greater force. It's fast, it's brutal, and it's fucking good to be used, be useful, not just a pawn or hired gun for some faceless government agency, no, now you mean something to a real person, and you haven't been meaningful to anyone in a very long time. And it feels so good, his cock just feels so good the less traction there is, maybe you'll even be able to cum, fuck, when was the last time you had an orgasm? You push your ass out as your teeth sink into your lower lip, and Joel immediately picks up the pace, as if understanding what you are trying to accomplish. There is no more speaking, only muted moans, panting breaths, and the lewd, wet slapping filling the alleyway. You keep your voice down by biting down on the sleeve of your jacket, choking for every time Joel slams his hips into yours. Then he slows down, his breathing becomes strained, and he buries himself in you, all the way in, and you feel your fluttering core fill with thick, hot semen. His hips twitch, driving himself even deeper, however that even is possible, and your hipbones scrape against the wall. One of his hands is released from your hip and covers yours on the wall for just a fraction of a second before he pulls out and takes a step back.

You hear him zip up his jeans, and you turn around slowly, hoping your legs will carry you. He's looking at you from under heavy eyelids, the hint of a smirk on his lips.

"We're done."

You pull up your pants and find your voice. "I didn't even cum." You hear how whiny and bratty you sound, and lower your eyes when Joel steps up to you again. He places two fingers under your chin and raises it, forcing you to look at him.

"Maybe next time you won't chase me into an alley and try to shove a gun in my face," he instructs you in a voice that makes your pussy clench around the cum seeping out of you. His thumb drags over the corner of your mouth, and you become aware of the dried blood there.

"You're bleeding. Clean yourself up."

With that, he backs further in between the buildings, kicking your Glock to you before disappearing into the shadows. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, sort out your clothing, pick up your handgun and rifle, and step back out of the street. An excited smile spreads on your face.

So, there is a next time?

[ebongawk]

40! 🫡

40. “One of us is clearly smarter than the other.”

"What are you doing?"

Eddie was crouched down next to the cabinet under the kitchen sink. The Walkman in his ears was blasting delicious guitar licks – thank you so much Kirk Hammett for being a fucking god on the strings – and it was loud enough that he hadn't heard the front door open.

But Chrissy's cheerleader screech was enough to interrupt the beautiful guitar solo in Battery.

Chrissy was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, her eyes wide and terrified as she looked down at the bottles in his hands.

Fuck. She wasn't supposed to be home yet! She ruined her own fucking surprise!

Like, okay. So he and Chrissy had been dating for all of, like, two months when her mother found out. And living in the Cunningham home post-major freakout had been a soul-sucking ordeal for his tiny, badass little girlfriend. When it became clear that, no matter what that walking hemorrhoid of a woman had to say, Laura Cunningham could not convince Chrissy to break up with Eddie, she'd kicked her out.

She'd literally kicked her own daughter out for her dating life.

What an absolute cunt. (And Eddie did not use that term lightly.)

Of course she was gonna move into the trailer. Neither Eddie nor Wayne would have allowed her to get put up somewhere that wasn't gonna take care of her. They weren't insane.

The only problem being that their beautiful Forest Hills home had been housing two half-feral bachelors for the past twelve years. It wasn't, as realtors might say, move-in ready.

Too fucking bad that Eddie didn't realize the actual state of their unintentional and overlooked squalor until beautiful, squeaky clean and shiny Chrissy was sitting in the '70s-style bungalow living room.

Okay. Okay. Benefit of the doubt, he and Wayne were tidy. Like, whatever, there were a few stray food wrappers littering the floor and the trash was about three days overdue for a haul to the dumpster and maybe his bedroom was more beer cans and cigarette butts than it was fresh linens. But, whatever. It looked clean.

And then Eddie really looked. He really saw the rust and mildew stains in the tub and stains on the carpet that gave it kind of a grimy feel and the walls he and Wayne had kind of dyed yellow due to indoor cigarette smoke.

So, after waiting three weeks for Chrissy to actually make all-day plans with someone that wasn't him, Eddie decided to take advantage of the empty house and fucking clean.

Based purely on hazy memories of what to use from when his mother was alive, of course.

However, Chrissy's abject terror and screamed exclamation at his actions had him second-guessing his existence for a second there.

"Uh," he said, using one rubber glove-clad hand to yank the headphones from his ears. "Cleaning?"

Chrissy blinked. "Cleaning?" The pure disbelief in her tone stung a little. Like. Okay. So he wasn't the most kempt boy in town. No need to be fucking rude about it, sunshine.

"Yeah?" He looked down at the plastic bucket he'd unearthed from under a pile of Wayne's Nam blues. Who fucking knew how long it'd been hiding back there. "That alright with you?"

"You're gonna clean with that?" she verified, pointing at the open bottle in his hand. The one he was about to dump intoaforementioned bucket.

"Yeah?"

"Eddie. Is there something already in the bucket?"

Clear liquid winked up at him, little specs of dust floating around in it. Because he'd rinsed the bucket, of-fucking-course, but, like, not all that well.

"I don't see what that has to do with the conversation," he replied after a second, feeling somehow like a kid who'd been caught about to stick a fork in a live socket.

"Eddie."

"Chrissy."

"Is there bleach in that bucket?"

She looked pointedly down at the already opened gallon of bleach next to the bucket.

"Mmmmaybe?" he squeaked, looking down beneath his knees. "I was going to clean the floors. I thought it'd be okay to put bleach on the tile since, y'know, I have no idea what color they're supposed to be, anyway."

Chrissy hummed. "And, um, were you going to mix that in with the bleach?" She gestured again to the bottle in his hand. Eddie looked down at it, still taken aback.

"I mean." He shrugged. "I, uh, remember my mom using vinegar a lot when she cleaned."

At that, her eyes softened. She let out a little huff of laughter before crouching down next to him, gently easing the vinegar from his grasp. He let it go willingly, still so, so confused.

"Eddie," she sighed, tangling their fingers together and bringing his knuckles up to brush her lips against. "What do you get when you mix bleach and vinegar?"

"A very powerful cleaning ingredient." Though his confidence was definitely waning at this point.

She let out an adorable little giggle.

"Chlorine, Eddie. You get chlorine."

Oh.

Well. That would've been objectively hilarious, actually.

"So I'm right," he verified, eyebrows raised. "It's a very powerful cleaning ingredient."

"Oh my God."

"Y'know," he continued, gesturing between them with his occupied hand. “One of us is clearly smarter than the other.” He winked, pointing at himself and mouthing 'me' at her.

She laughed, rolling her eyes and standing. Pulling him to his feet by their clasped hands, she took in his ratty old t-shirt and sweatpants with interest.

"What's with the sudden cleaning bug, anyway?"

Bashful, Eddie gave another little shrug, half-turning away under the guise of surveying the trailer around them.

"I just, uh. Just–– y'know, wanted you to, like, want to be here and shit. And if getting my hands a little dirty to make you feel more comfortable is what it takes, then––"

"Did I do something that made you think I don't want to be here?" she asked, her voice soft and timid all of the sudden. Taking on that expression that meant she was about three-point-seven seconds away from a thought spiral.

"No, sweetness, no," Eddie assured her, taking her free hand in his and pulling her close. "I just wanted to, like, do something nice. Make this place feel more like a home and not, uh. A tobacco-infused pig sty."

Chrissy relaxed against him, her ear at the perfect height to hear the gentle thumping of his heart in his chest.

The one that beat just for her.

"You don't have to do that for me."

"I want to," he stressed, maneuvering her until he could press his lips to her forehead. "And I was waiting for you to be gone to do it."

"Nancy and Robin are outside. I just forgot my wallet."

"Skedaddle then!" He let go of her hands, grabbing her wallet off the counter and shoving it into her arms. She let out a bewildered squeak as he shuffled her toward the door. "Out with ye! I've got a witch's brew to make! A solvent to make the walls shine!"

"Don't––" She gasped in delight when he swooped down for another goodbye kiss. Then another. And a third as he struggled to unlatch the door. "Don't mix bleach and vinegar!"

Door opened, a quick wave to Robin and Nancy as he said, "No promises!"

"Eddie!"

"Love you, sweetness! Have fun!"

"If I come home and you're dead I'm gonna kill you!"

ask meme

[raenegade-accio]

Birthday: February 28th ♓

Height: 165cm [5'5ft]

Wand: Laurel wood with a unicorn hair, 13 ¼ inches and slightly springy flexibility

Favourite beast(s): Hippogriffs, Kneazles, Mooncalves & Thestrals

Amortentia scent: air after a rainstorm, cinnamon and maple wood

Favoured extra-curriculars: Apparition, Magical Theory, Alchemy, Music & Art

Distinguishing features: a pale birthmark on her left eye iris, unkempt hair strands, fingerless gloves, small freckles across the bridge of her nose.

Has a knack for: languages, defensive magic, playing the violin, rescue and breeding or handling of magical creatures and all animals, potion-making & baking (?)

Animagus form (if she becomes one): Clouded Leopard 🐆

Quidditch position: If Black hadn't cancelled it, she’d have loved to tryout for Chaser

Boggart(s): wildfires, or specifically, a man burning half to death (one which she unfortunately ran into once as a child)

Riddikulus: transformed into a heap of rubber ducks, collectively quacking as they hit the floor

Friends: Natsai Onai, Poppy Sweeting, Highwing, Imelda Reyes (GF ♥️), Amit Thakkar, Deek, Samantha Dale, Leander Prewett, Everett Clopton, Ominis Gaunt and Anne Sallow

⚘ Background

Wren comes from a small modest family in Dublin and was born to non-magical immigrant parents from East Asia, their families a long line of revered scholars and musicians. One day, her family decided to migrate to Belfast, in hopes of passing on their literary and artistic knowledge to their friends and colleagues, in an otherwise industrial city. Wren has had an idyllic childhood in Northern Ireland; nurtured and filled with great kindness, albeit she’s still conflicted by how little she knows about her own parents' heritage and upbringing since they do everything they can to remain ambiguous regarding this matter.

Wren and her parents encountered misfortune when large numbers of riots began breaking out in the city one summer in 1886, mere months before she could finish primary school. Tension reached a peak when arsons were taking place near their residence, and many of their friends had perished in the blaze. Belfast was deemed no longer safe for Wren. Her parents then made the abrupt decision of having their daughter attend a faraway boarding school in Brighton instead, with hopes Wren will be much safer there. Unfortunately the years that followed Wren spent friendless and isolated; there was harsh discipline and little learning.

To say Wren’s Hogwarts acceptance letter came as a shock is an understatement, when an exuberant Professor Fig arrived on their doorstep one stormy evening. In spite of witnessing signs of magic weeks prior, Mr and Mrs Zhang, albeit polite enough, were less than eager at an overflow of new knowledge regarding an alleged existence of a Wizarding World; each word coming from the strange man sounded more unorthodox than the last. Ultimately a proper demonstration of Wingardium Leviosa and Reparo, as well as the promise of a thorough and more importantly, safe, educational environment, were enough to sway their resolve. They finally came to an agreement in which Wren will decide if she is ready to be registered for Hogwarts, if Professor Fig is to tutor her everything there is to know about rudimentary magic for the remaining summer holidays under their supervision.

⚘ Personality

At first glance, one wouldn’t think Wren is able to thrive as well as she does in Ravenclaw of all houses, given she’s a bit of a klutz and seemingly not a fast learner, but she’s proven to be in fact quick-witted and intuitive; she sees no benefit in rushing her schoolwork therefore would rather take her time making sure the tasks are done properly. That’s not to say she won’t be quick to rise to new challenges, especially practical ones, and will excel almost immediately as long as there are demonstrations.

Those Wren is close with would know her as fun-loving and a sensitive soul, but isn’t above some good back and forth cutting banter or even initiating a heated duel when warranted. Despite giving the impression of an idle dreamer, Wren moves through life with a clear sense of values. At times, however, she may focus so intently on the tasks at hand - whether it’s burning the midnight oil to finish extra assignments or straining to stay awake rescuing Mooncalves - that she often forgets to take adequate care of herself, driving herself to absolute burnout before she can reach her goals.

While not particularly reserved or withdrawn, the schooling years Wren’s endured in Brighton made her wary of most adults, slow to trust her classmates and unfamiliar with the simple concept of reaching out. Nothing makes her blood curdle more than the thought of inserting herself in situations where she’s not wanted. All the more reason why she considers herself extremely fortunate with the social circle she has now. That isn’t to say she’s prone to self isolation. Naturally she’s perfectly content engaging in meaningful conversations with just about anyone if they make the first move. If able, she’s always willing to lend a helping hand, whether it’s a first year struggling schoolwork or an errand a broom ride away.

Nothing makes her happy quite like helping others, men or beasts. She doesn’t care if the given tasks are tedious or gargantuan, Wren is simply happy knowing there are folks who trust her to be patient, thorough and get certain things done. Yet despite her compassionate nature, Wren isn't one to believe in second chances. If she feels betrayed, deceived or belittled, she becomes uncharacteristically cold-hearted and unforgiving; while it isn't impossible to earn back her trust, she'll never forget. Wren is always actively looking for a sense of security and stability. She is committed to the relationships with her friends and loved ones but will not hesitate to cut ties if she feels like she can no longer trust a person.

⚘ Other trivia

She’s the only member in her family with freckles; they’re not as sun-kissed as those of her classmates, and in truth very faint, hardly visible especially during the winter. Amit nevertheless noticed them fairly quickly and mentioned they remind him of the constellations he’d come across when he’s out studying in the Astronomy Tower, till this day she still isn’t quite sure what to say to that.

She gets asked about her (Northern Irish) accent all the time, but has learned to make a game out of it though - every time someone asks about it, she changes her answer.

Wren actively wants to become an Animagus, but in spite of the extensive research and preparations made beforehand, she is unsuccessful at every attempt, having to repeatedly start over each time she accidentally swallows her Mandrake leaf.

She’d never admit this out loud but she really gets a kick out of other students’ Howlers, surprised just how informative the screechings of enraged parents prove to be and can only imagine amusedly the amount of Howlers she’d receive if her parents know of just a fraction of her misadventures.

Before her longtime burgeoning and pent up attraction for Imelda, Wren took pride of her immunity to Sebastian Sallow's charming magnetism, unlike many of the others. However she had a massive crush on Garreth, Amit and even Professor Garlick. Afterwards, Wren was deeply infatuated with Poppy in her sixth year for a long time.

Wren is particularly passionate about animals, even before she was showing signs of magic. After learning to wield her newfound abilities (including Ancient Magic), she finds herself slowly able to empathise and even communicate with almost any beast or creature - though it often leads to instances where a trail of critters follow her into school grounds while on an errand in Hogsmeade or walking in between classes.

It's not a common practice, as far as she knows, but she enjoys decorating her broom, adorning it with clever trinkets and mementos, such as Moondews, a pendant given by her Ma and the phoenix feather from Deek.

Wren unfortunately struggles with her severe pyrophobia, that stems from her early childhood on account of the numbers of fireburnings and arsons she witnessed from the tumultuous political climate at the time. She's learned to tolerate minor things such as smoke or slight scorchings, but still has to keep a distance from most fireplaces, refrain from using certain spells to do with fire.

She’s a huge foodie, simple as that. She finds snacking as enjoyable a pastime as a jaunt in Hogsmeade. If she’s lounging in the common room, you’ll likely see her munching on an apple. When waiting for classes to start, she’d be having pumpkin pasties in the corridor. One morning she's even spotted aloft on her broom, not flying, just nibbling on a cauldron cake midair while overlooking the Highlands.

When offered to learn all three Unforgivables, she's repulsed by how very tempted she is. Now knowing how to cast them, she dreads finding out if she's truly capable of using them. She tells herself she learned simply out of deep appreciation and respect for all forms of magic, but part of her, out of morbid curiosity, wonders what it'd feel like to be proficient with the Dark Arts.

Wren is ambivalent, at best, towards her connection to Ancient Magic. The notion of wielding one of the most formidable and arcane forms of magic should sound enticing… There were nights she spent wishing someone else could worry about Ranrok, Rookwood, those damned repositories and their ridiculous trials in her stead, that Ranrok and his loyalists would just go home, the poachers could jump off a cliff. She finds the Keepers priggish and infuriating. What she wouldn’t give to seal away the Map Chamber and never have to look into the jeering gazes of those towering portraits again.

⚘ Career & Aspirations

Healer - trained and became a Healer via the work experience programmes at St. Mungo's after her 7th year

Curse Breaker - applied months post graduation via multiple remedial exams on one of her worst subjects: Ancient Runes

⚘ Likes

Sunrises, sketching, Highwing, Pumpkin Pasties, speeding across the Black Lake on her broom, Cauldron Cakes, playing her violin, Butterbeer, kissing her girlfriend pestering Imelda Reyes, and the bird's-eye view when soaring above Hogwarts on her broom - she also has a nasty habit of launching herself off the highest cliff or the tallest tower when summoning her broom.

⚘ Dislikes

Spiders, raw eggs, people randomly petting her hair (happens more than most think), “Puffskein Dunkein” and trolls, though nothing gets to her quite like being micromanaged - the more overbearing the person is, the more likely she'd do the complete opposite of what's expected of her, wholly out of petty spite

- - - - - - - - RP friends:

Nosy the Niffler (@kiwiplaetzchen),

Hellendil Melinae (@theravenchild),

William Abbott and Elland de Strontium (@ask-elland-n-will),

Sienna Lee (@ask-sienna),

Allegra Fenwick and Clementine the Golden Retriever (@adallegra),

Theodora Devlin (@theodoradevlin),

Andrew Montrose (@ask-andrew-montrose),

Demetrius Haggarty (@demetrius-haggarty),

Felix Åberg (@ask-felix-aberg)

[sleepyymc]

yours. (sneak-peek)

a roommates w benefits with megumi fic i’m working on— hope you guys will be on the lookout for this

“bye cutie”

you nodded, not wanted to spend any more time than you should’ve with the male. he wasn’t anybody in particular, just a quick hook up. not that you should’ve needed one— you have megumi after all.

you huffed, feeling icky at the feeling of another man’s cum running between your legs. you knew megumi would be back from his hang out with his friends soon, so you quickly rushed to your room to shower. you didn’t want to smell like sex and another man in front of megumi, did you?

discarding your cum stained clothes, muttering to yourself how you won’t let another man touch you, noting how horribly the man did a job of keeping your room clean when all he did was give a half assed oral job and a 10 minute quickie. sighing, you jumped into your shower, quickly running your hands up and down your body to rid the feeling of the man’s hands on you.

you feel so guilty for going behind megumi’s back. but he’s been so busy lately ! it’s not like he’s your boyfriend anyway..

you frown at the thought. you always felt something more for the brooding male. the way he helped you carry your things like nothing when you first moved in. you thought it’d suck having a male for a roommate, but the first week in you didn’t think it’d be that bad. plus it’s not like you could afford to live anywhere else.

running your hands through your hair, you rinse away the soap and sweat, feeling better than before.

you step out of your shower, tucking the towel you had wrapped around your body under your armpits as you walked to your room. you heard the door open, a faint jingle of a pair of keys and feet shuffling across the floor. you feel a sense of excitement run through your body, rushing to your closet to clothe your body.

as soon as you finish pulling on your shirt, your door opens. you immediately turn, smiling as you spot the tall messy headed male.

“hi ‘gumi.”

he smiles back, barely walking through the doorway before you rush to hug him. inhaling his scent as you perch your arms atop his broad shoulders.

megumi grunts softly, rolling his eyes at the display of affection. he doesn’t bother to say hi back, sliding a hand up to your shoulder blades to push your face into his neck. he relaxes, enjoying the silence between the two of you— a contrast to the rowdiness of nobara and itadori he was stuck between just moments before.

he hums to himself, before spotting something in your room.

“is that..a condom?” he thinks, in disbelief at first.

he has to squint, seeing that recognizable shape of the knot and cum filled rubber below it. megumi furrows his brows. you guys haven’t fucked recently. have you been-

he pushes you away for a moment, ignoring the growing thoughts in his mind. he stares at your face, you blinking in surprise. you couldn’t be right? you wouldn’t !

would you?

his eyes scan your face, you tilt your head up at him. chuckling softly as you pull your arms back to cup his face.

“what’s wrong ‘gumi?”

the nickname rolled off your tongue so easily, he can’t help but feel relief in his system at the sound of it. enjoying the warmth of your palms against his cheeks for a moment. he then pulls you away, turning you around to the door.

“we should watch a movie.” he states.

you don’t hesitate to agree, missing his presence. you immediately turn on your heel to walk out of your room, going to make the two of you some snacks. it’s not an uncommon occurrence after all.

megumi glances one more time at the condom, quickly going over to the corner of your bed’s leg where it lied to discard it. he felt his brain nag at him that you were really up to something, but megumi can’t help but ignore it. you were the first person to truly have a normal routine with, a normal life with. although you two are nothing more than roommates, he loves you.

he walks out of your room, spotting you cradle a bunch of chips in your arms with two bottles of coke in your hands. he smiles, shaking off any of that anxiety. he’s going to enjoy watching a movie with you like always. just a normal day.

© sleepyymc 2022 - all rights reserved. please refrain from any modifying, translating, or reposting of any kind. plagiarism will NOT be tolerated. enjoy !!

[topsteelgymweights]

Benefits Of Rubber Coated Hex Dumbbells

These dumbbells allow to perform various exercises to lose weight, build muscles and increase bone density.

1. Quality feel and look

2. Hardwearing and robust

3. Minimize noise

4. Do not roll away

Why Buy Hex Dumbbells

Hex dumbbells offer a budget-friendly option for home workouts and have long been a cornerstone in the fitness industry.

Hexagonal dumbbells are designed with two weighted heads and a central handle shaft. The hexa shape of each head prevents the dumbbell from rolling, making them a practical choice for home gyms. Unlike rounded dumbbells, hex dumbbells stay securely in place when set down. Additionally, rubber-coated hex dumbbells offer extra protection for your flooring and prevent chipping.

Here, we also mention some exercises that you can perform with hex dumbbells:

1. Bicep curl

2. Goblet Squat

3. Bent-over Row

4. Dumbbell Chest Press

5. Dumbbell Lunge

By choosing the right dumbbells will help you to perform best workout to reach your fitness goal.