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teratosfavouritesnack · 4 months ago

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Hi can you do a part 2 of the ghost lover boy? Like Y/n is being repeatly being bratty and the ghost starts punishing her but of course she cant see him because he's invisible?

Hiii dear, thank you for your request and sorry for the late reply! I already had half an idea how to continue this story but I tried to mix it with your suggestion. Hopefully you like it 💜

ghost x afab!human - bratty behaviour (kinda), ghost creature doing ghost things, p in v, mirror sex, use of ghost hunting tools, it talks!!! :o

ORIGINAL POST <-

You were wrong. The ghost was no lover boy, just a prankster through and through.

You don’t know exactly how you expected the dynamic to evolve after the events of that day, but you certainly didn’t think it would change so drastically and… not really for the better.

Has this been its intention from the very start? To harass you, play with you and your emotions until you surrendered and offered yourself to it , only to then take it all away? Has it only been having some fun with you and did not in fact care about you at all?

You wish you had an explanation for its sudden disappearance, but you don’t. And you’re so upset about it. So upset that you can’t find peace in your own four walls, because everything makes you think of it and all its stupid pranks. So upset, you can’t even find pleasure in touching yourself anymore because you can’t fuck your cunt the same way its fingers have, you can’t recapture that tingly, almost electricity-charged pressure you felt inside you when it pounded your hole with its hand, no matter how much you attempt to.

You’re losing your mind. It can't just give you a taste of something so delicious and addicting and then take it away a second later! It’s not fair! You need to catch its attention again, try however you can. You exasperate the things that always induced it to harass you; unashamedly bending over the furniture and waiting for it to grind against you, pushing your ass in the air as much as humanly possible whenever you’re doing the laundry, spending a longer time in the shower box hoping it would join you, walking naked around the house more times than not to give it easy access to every inch of you… You do anything to get it to touch you again but nothing seems to work. It’s as if it has completely vanished, as if it’s gone for good from your house. But somehow, you know it ’s still there. You can feel it. Watching you. Maybe laughing at you, at how desperate you look and act. It ’s mocking you, you’re sure.

Resentment merges with desperation, pushing you to buy some of those fancy gadgets paranormal investigators use on their hunts. You place sensors throughout the house and always carry a spirit box on you. You’ll catch its invisible and elusive ass one day or another, you’re sure! To what end? You don't truly know. You didn't think things through. Perhaps you just want to take a win over the ghost, instead. Annoy it, as it has done to you. But as the days pass, the sensors don’t pick up any signal, the spirit box is dead silent and you feel bluer than ever. All is calm...

Until it isn’t.

You invite people over, something you learnt in the past the ghost does not like in the slightest. But the ghost isn't around anymore, is it? You have no reason to be concerned about what it likes or not.

Except you have, because it is still here. Hiding so well from all your stupid tools. Pissed off by their presence, yet even more by the strangers you allowed inside its home. Especially that one fool who seems to orbit around you like a moth to a flame. It hasn't been this displeased in ages, and it can't keep itself hidden any longer. It needs to reclaim its possessions.

The sensors go off all at once, causing everyone to jump in their seats. You told your friends about your haunted house before, but no one believed you; now they all do as the lights go crazy and all kinds of trash is thrown in their faces, forcing everyone to rush to the exit.

Everyone except you.

You’re shocked… but also delighted. You secretly wished something like this might happen. You hoped that disregarding its desires would lead to retaliation. And when you feel that familiar thrilling touch on you again, oh you are ecstatic! Its grasp is a little rougher this time, as it grabs you around the waist and drags you all the way to your bedroom. All the way in front of your large mirror, where you watch your clothes come undone, ripped by unseen fretting hands. Where you can see one of your legs pulled off the ground and your hole stretched open by... nothing. It's mind-boggling to feel so stuffed while being unable to gaze upon the thing that makes your sensitive walls throb so desperately. When it starts to move, you realize it is the ghost who's inside you, with its cock swallowed to the hilt by your cunt. The sensation is unbelievable, so blissful, and unlike anything you've ever experienced before. You don't have any words to describe it. And even if you did, you'd forget all of them. Your mind goes blank when you feel its hand seize your jaw and turn your head downward, forcing you to stare at your hole spreading open and shrinking again as it pushes its length all the way into and then out of you in slow but deep thrusts.

Is this a punishment? Is this a reward? Is this a way to claim you as its own? To make you realize that it is in charge.That it can toy with you anytime it wants, and you have no say in the matter. Whatever does this mean... You do not care. You only care about the pleasure rising in your lower belly, the heat pervading your entire body, the exquisite pressure you feel in your womb as its cock finds that precious spot deep inside you, with one arm wrapped possessively around your waist and the other keeping your leg up.

You’re so out of it, so lost in seeking your release that your ears almost bypass the robotic beep coming from your pants, sprawled at your feet. However, the disembodied voice that follows reverberates through your entire being, instantly pushing you over the edge with a muted scream.

"Pretty. . . . Cunt. . . . All. . . . Mine. . . . . Taking. . . . Me. . . . So. . . . .Well. . . . . Made. . . . For. . . . Me."

You hope it will never leave you again, but if it does... Well, now you know how to make it come out again.

🪷. You can leave me a tip on ko-fi if you want to support me

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flying-nightwing · 6 months ago

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Moonlight by the Docks (And They Say Romance is Dead) - Slade Wilson

Hi. It's been a while. But guess fucking what babes, I'm pulling all the stops to be forgiven. It's been more than a YEAR in the making, and mark my word it probably won't happen again so take it all in, but here is the Deathstroke smut a LOT of you have been wanting. Y'all, this is the long awaited sequel to Tango à Deux. Please forgive me?

(it's technically a sequel but can be read as a standalone if you accept that batsis and Slade already know each other)

Also, enjoy!

Pairing: Slade Wilson x Nightshade!Batsis

Word count: 4721

Warnings: violence, death/killing unnamed NPC, porn with plot, dirty talk (lots of it), unprotected sex, p in v, batsis and deathstroke fighting for dominance (NO classic dom/sub dynamics bc that's a pass for me), more dirty talk, body fluid, kinky shit, creampie, biting, rubbing, rough sex, reference to voyeurism, major praise kink, everything is extremely consenting and willing by both ADULT parties, might have missed something but I think if you made it this far you're into it.

Have fun ;)

“Nightshade, status”

You barely heard Batman's hushed check in as you barrelled into a boarded up window, breaking the moulding wood with your shoulders and rolling out of the building as bullets rained over you. You wasted no time getting back on your feet, starting to sprint away from the semi automatic rifles rapid firing in your direction.

“Nightshade, status?”

“JUST A MINUTE” You yelled as you dived behind a large container, flinching at the sound of the bullets hitting the metal and ringing loud into your head. “Fucking fuck shit”

“What's going on?” Batman's voice grew agitated despite remaining a low hiss. “Talk to me Nightshade”

“Wrong fucking intel!” You replied as you jumped on your feet again, taking advantage of the opportunity window their reloading gave you to run across the dockyard to find better cover. “It's happening now! There's at least twenty guys here, all trained and armed to the teeth. And they're all on my ass right now”

What was supposed to be a simple recon mission with a possibility of stealth takedown op turned into a giant mess at the first opportunity. The second you slipped into the warehouse, you quickly realized that the three guards on shift that you had been briefed about was, in fact, a small militia that was ready to be deployed on some combat mission, or that's what you believed was being said before you got made.

You would have also liked to know in advance that the building was littered with state of the art tripwires, movement detectors and heat sensors. Alas, you had gone in believing it was just a normal warehouse, and you had realized a moment too late you had triggered pretty much every alarm on the upper floor and very much alerted the militia of your presence.

“Tell me your position, I'm coming”

Your eyes went to the containers around you, taking as much information as you could without slowing down. Going into the maze of old containers was a great idea until you had to describe your surroundings. “I'm westbound, but those crates all look the same, B”

“On my way”

You ducked as much as you could to make yourself smaller as the symphony of bullets bouncing on the metal caught up to you. You took a hard left, trying to remember which way was more likely to not end up with a dead end, then went to your right. You could hear them shout, not giving up the chase, but you still tempted a look over your shoulder. They weren't on you yet. You faced forward and picked up some speed, rounding the corner towards the darkest and narrowest path to the left.

Before your eyes could even adjust to the shadows cast by the containers, your feet lifted off the ground and a large gloved hand was slapped tight on your mouth. On instinct, you began trashing to get away before your back was pulled flush against a hard armoured chest with a strong arm locking your waist against it.

“Quiet, little bird”

The militia paused at the crossroad, then after a string of barked orders, turned right. At the same time, your brain took in the orange and dark grey of the armour around you and pieced it with that voice you couldn’t mistake for anyone else's. You stopped struggling, yet, he didn’t release you. His hand was still firmly cupping your jaw while you could feel his other arm flex around your waist.

He tsked as the echoes of the yells grew more distant. “Once again getting in my way. What will I do with you now?”

You replied something, but it was muffled by his glove. You reached up and pulled his hand down, but he still let it linger on your neck once your mouth was free. You felt a bit weak in the knees and cursed yourself for getting turned on so easily, and even more for your next words. “Hopefully finish what you started last time if you’re not a coward”

Oh, that was so not the thing to say right now. You felt his hand around your neck tighten enough to be noticeable, but still loose enough for you to weigh your next words carefully. The yells once again grew closer, telling you the militia found a dead end and were backtracking towards your position.

“Do you really want to do this right now?” His voice was so close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. As much as pouncing on him right there and then was generating divine images in your brain, you were still being hunted down by an enemy who’d be on you much sooner than later. And well, if you died riding Deathstroke, Bruce would bring you back to life just to kill you himself, his own code be damned.

“As much as I wanna say yes,” You breathed back. “This bunch of angry men want me dead, so I believe the smart thing would be to deal with them first”

He released you. “Alright then. I’ll be here”

Your feet were fully back on the ground and you turned around to face him. Wow. You had been so right in your assumption that his other suit–namely, the one he was currently wearing–would be hotter on him. Even in the dark, he looked positively glorious and mighty delicious in all that armour, and with a small armoury worth of weapons strapped all over his, big, strong, menacing body–

You forced yourself to calm your thoughts down. “A little help would be appreciated”

“Why?” You couldn’t see his face, but you just knew it was full of smug arrogance. “I’ve got my own mission here. Who says they're part of it?”

You glanced in the direction of the ever growing noise, then back to him. “C'mon, I'm literally about to have sex with you, the least you could do is make sure I'm alive for it”

He sighed loudly. “I suppose you make a compelling point”

The militia rounded the corner and spotted you as Slade stepped between their fire and you. In one swift movement, he pulled out his sword and twirled it in his hand, as if provoking the armed men in front of him. For a moment, he just stood there, shielding you from the onslaught of bullets suddenly incoming your way. They all bounced on the front of Slade’s armour, painting him off as some kind of god of war, and you couldn’t help but gawk at the sight. You were so caught onto just how hot he looked that you almost didn’t register him springing into action and starting to cut through the group.

You reached for your karambit blades in your thigh straps and followed him in, making sure not to stray too far from his shadow to keep your cover from the fire.

You waited for the reload to duck under his arm, sliding on your knees in a spin and slicing the tendons of two men. That sent them straight into the path of Slade's swords, adding to the bloodshed. You swiftly returned behind him as another round of bullet was fired, but by the sound alone, the number of gunmen was plummeting.

The next reload came and you once again stepped away from him as he brought his two swords down onto some poor son of a bitch. You noticed a knife coming down and aiming for the small opening between his suit and his mask, so you sprung into action.

Literally.

You used his propped up knee to propel yourself up and jump onto the guys' shoulders, gripping onto him by squeezing your thighs around his skull. He tried to get you off of him by spinning and thrashing like a mechanical bull, but you held on tight. He was getting desperate to throw you off as pressure grew around his head, lifting his knife in the air to stab your leg. You were faster however, reacting on instinct and plunging your karambits into his neck.

He began sputtering as he tried to claw at his throat, blood squirting out of his artery and onto your suit. He dropped down to his knees and you got off, only then noticing he had been the last one standing. Key word, had been. He fell down on the floor in a puddle of his own blood as you observed him. Then, you felt like you were being watched intensely.

You trailed your gaze up to see Slade on his feet and unmoving among the carnage he had mostly caused. You couldn't help the thoughts that flashed into your mind, or the way your body reacted to it. You closed your eyes and let out a sigh, wondering what the hell was wrong with you.

Because somehow, you found it fucking hot.

And the fact that he did all of that just to get a taste of you? Yeah that did it. You completely switched your brain off as your feet took determined steps to him, quickly closing the distance to him and paying no mind to the bodies littering the floor. The second you were in front of him, you ripped his mask off and kissed him hard.

And he was ready for you. Without a single after thought of hesitation, his gloved hand yanked your hood back and cupped your neck, dragging you back in the shadows with him.

Just like the first time you sneaked out in a quiet place to make out, his lips were rough and insistent on yours. His hands were busy mapping your body, gripping your hips tight as he pushed you back onto the metal of the container. Like a reflex, his fingers seeked your back for a zipper, but found none. He kept searching for the proper way to undo your suit, until he pulled back with a glare of frustration.

You rolled your eyes. “I'll take care of mine, take care of yours”

Of course it was hard to figure out, it was made as such. But telling him that would only push him to try and get it and you weren't nearly patient enough right now to nurse his ego.

In practiced motions, you undid your belt and unclasped several buckles that held the top part of your suit to the bottom. You barely had the time to pop off the button of the waistband that you were pushed once again on the cold metal, a much larger hand quickly replacing yours.

Your pants were quickly undone and his hand slid down your stomach, reaching their destination with haste. You gasped as his calloused fingers began working on your clit, rubbing it in circles at a pace that was both tortuously slow and absolutely fantastic. His free hand slapped on your mouth just as you let out a moan that would have definitely bounced around the whole shipyard.

He tsked. “As much as I would like to hear you, I'd rather not get interrupted by another armed militia. You'd agree, wouldn't you?”

Your breath shuddered and you nodded. Still, his hand didn't go away.

He gave you a smug smirk. “I'll keep it there just in case”

You didn't even think about arguing, instead, you squeezed his forearm to encourage him to keep going. His fingers expertly worked you, alternating between pressure and friction and making your eyes roll back into your skull. Your hips followed his movements, chasing more friction from the fabric of his glove. You were greedy for him, for his hands, for his body. All you wanted to do is take, take and take, and luckily for you, he seemed more than happy to give it all to you and more.

“That's it little bird, fly for me”

His hand moved just right with his words, and you couldn't do anything else to obey his command. You let go and came harder than you had in years, your vision going completely white for a second. Good thing his hand was muffling your voice, otherwise you were sure the whole city would have heard your scream bouncing from the dock.

When he was certain your whimpers had quieted to an acceptable level, he took off his hand from your mouth and caressed the side of your head. “I think I like you like this” He hummed. “Being a good girl for me”

You were already half coherent from your orgasm, but him calling you a good girl like this, even if it was most likely condescending, was definitely getting you worked up for round two. “Fuck, if this is what you give me every time, I'll be whatever you want”

Oh yeah, you were NOT thinking with your brain at the moment.

And the groan coming from him did not help calm down your heartbeat. And judging by how his entire body flexed along, you could only figure out those words of your equally turned him on, creating a feedback loop that threatened to keep you here with him until well past sunrise.

Like a man starved, he shoved you back into the wall with his whole body, pinning your naked hips with his. You took in a sharp breath when his hard cock rubbed against your sensitive clit, spreading your orgasm all over his pants. Before you can make any more noises, his lips were on yours, reclaiming back with interest his dues from the previous ride. The grinding of his hips against yours drove you delirious and made you forget everything that wasn't about him right now.

He reached between his body and yours and pulled out his cock, letting it bounce on his chest piece and stand proud, already glistening with precum. Just like the rest of him, he was huge. Good thing you had a whole waterpark going down there, otherwise he would never have fitted. He snaked his arms around your thighs and put his hands on your ass, then hoisted you up like you weighed nothing more than a feather.

“Not one drop on this suit” You warned breathlessly as he lined himself with you.

“What, no more ruining your clothes?” He raised a teasing eyebrow.

“That dress was worth pocket change compared to this” You replied, eyelids half open as you forced the moment of clarity. “Buying me a new one would have you file for bankruptcy”

“Fine, no stain whatsoever” He drawled out, leaning into your space once again and ghosting his lips on your ear. “Will you be my good girl and take it all inside then?”

The spell you had broken returned tenfold over you as your knees buckled. It took you several seconds to find your voice and prepare an answer that wouldn't be an embarrassingly loud moan. “If I say yes, will you get going?”

The pressure from his tip at your entrance alone made you whimper in absolute delight. This is what had been peeking more and more often in your naughty dreams ever since you met, and more often than not they ended with your hand doing what you now knew was a mediocre impression of his.

Slowly, he lowered you into him until you couldn't go further down. You were so full of him it was literally impossible to think about anything other than the pressure between your legs and the massive cock impaling you. That too, had been greatly underestimated by your imagination. Nothing would have done the real thing justice. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him just a little bit deeper, and it took all of his restraint not to start fucking you like an animal after that.

“Fuck little bird,” He said, his voice low and rough. You hadn't started moving yet, but a quick squeeze around him made him let out a low grunt that you would definitely replay in your head later on. “You always take ‘em that easy?”

“I think that's only you,” Feeling bold at how much he tried to act tough about it, you decided to return the favour. You snaked your arms around his neck and pulled yourself closer, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses up until you reached his ear. “Maybe your little bird has just been dreaming about getting railed by the big bad wolf one night too many to give him any resistance”

He switched his hands from your ass to your waist and pushed you back roughly on the wall. The angle changed and stars flashed in your vision for a moment.

“Why don't you tell me about those dreams?” His words were demands and he started moving inside of you, hips thrusting forward in a tortuously slow movement. Yet, it made your body sing along, meeting him halfway.

“It always starts with you dragging me off to a dark secluded place after I said some shit to get you hard” You smiled as he kept hitting the right spot. Your focus on his questing was a lifeline you gripped with all you had not to just become some fucked out doll for him. You intended to make him work a little more before getting to this point.

He gave you a particular hard thrust that made you gasp for air. “Keep going on, little bird” He grunted in your ear.

“And then– Fuck” You threw your head back on the wall. He wasted no time claiming your open neck, grazing his teeth on the skin. “No marks either”

You could practically feel him rolling his eyes, but he backed off with the teeth and kept going on with his lips. “And then what?”

“And then we rile each other up properly” You smirked as you threaded your hand in his hair and gripped hard. The low reverberating moan that came out of him combined with the very obvious twitching of his dick inside of you nearly made you finish right here and there. “Your head between my legs, taking good care of me…”

His thrusts definitely picked up speed as your words hit their mark. He did nip your neck at the moment, but it was light enough that you let it fly.

“Then when you show that you know how to warm me up, I'd get down on my knees–” That made his hips jut forward and hit a deep spot in you that made you moan like a whore. “Maybe– Maybe even let you fuck my face if your tongue made me cum hard enough–”

“Fuck, who knew Gotham's little princess had such a dirty mouth on her, huh?” He straightened up and returned his glove to your oversensitive clit, brushing it hard enough to catch your voice in your throat. “What would everybody think if they saw you so eager to be my good little fuck toy?”

That would be a proper scandal indeed.

“I don't care what they'd think” You managed to mumble. It was getting harder to keep your mind sharp now that he had begun rubbing you again. “They can even watch, as long as they don't interrupt”

You should have kept your damn mouth shut, you realized seconds later. You had obviously called irony upon yourself just by speaking the words.

“Nightshade?”

It was like you were suddenly doused with a bucket of ice water. You grew rigid as your earpiece came to life with probably the last voice you wanted to hear right now. Your eyes slowly widened as you remembered that your father was on his way to be your backup. And him walking in on you and Slade wouldn't be as low key as it had been with your brothers. There would be bloodshed.

Slade obviously noticed your change of attitude and paused his thrusts. You dreadfully raised your hand to your comm and double tapped it to turn on the mic.

“B?”

It took a few seconds for Slade to understand what was going on, and the shit eating grin he gave you told you he definitely wouldn't make the next step easy. With his good eye never leaving your face, he began thrusting again, challenging your murderous glare.

“I got delayed by another armed group in the shipyard,” He explained. “I’m on my way now. Where are you?”

You thanked whatever divine intervention that put obstacles on his way, because you had totally forgotten about him once you had caught sight of Slade. You were in an uncomfortable situation, but not as much as if he had walked on you. You took a moment to come up with a good enough excuse to keep him away just a little bit longer for you to get out of this mess. In the meanwhile, Slade still kept at it, obviously trying to make you slip. “Um, I–” You coughed to hide a gasp as he hit you deep.

‘Fuck you’ you mouthed to Slade, which he replied in the same fashion, ‘Already am’. That fucker.

“Nightshade, what’s going on?”

You could have killed him right there if he hadn’t been doing it so right.

“Nightshade?”

“Yep, uh,” You took a deep breath and got a hold of yourself. Batman was getting impatient and you had to start being credible. You made a show of coughing exaggeratedly before speaking your next words, your eyes never leaving Slade's. “Just got sucker punched. It's fine though, it just took me by surprise. T'was nothing but a weak shot”

Slade’s smug expression faltered just a little, and you gave him your own version of the shit eating grin he was no longer giving you.

“Ok, where are you now?”

“I've backtracked and now Northbound, but I’ve got it under control” You took the opportunity of your previous lie to breathe deeply and counter some of the absolutely not family-friendly noises that were threatening to come out of your mouth instead of words. “But I’m not the only one here–” Deep breath. “I was being chased, and then I wasn’t. Only a couple of guys kept my trail… Somebody is picking out targets here. I think it would be smarter to fall back on the meetup point and recon”

“... Are you sure?”

“Positive” The word came out short and dry. “I think they might have done the same”

“Alright, I’ll reroute”

“I’ll catch up to you” You managed to say without tripping. “Nightshade out”

You made sure your comm was definitely off before hitting Slade on the chest. He only let out a quiet chuckle at what most likely felt like a breeze to him. “Asshole”

He leaned forward and rested his whole forearm on the container behind you, then thrust up. The new angle had you rolling your eyes in your skull, seeing black and orange stars in the blur of your vision. “Gotta make you pay somehow for all that work you made me do”

“As if you haven’t enjoyed it– oh”

He resumed his pace from before the untimely interruption, effectively cutting off your train of thoughts. “Now little bird, I believe you have somewhere else to be. Such a shame I don't have time to make you beg for it”

“Mhhfp, fine” You muttered as your arms went back around his neck. “Just because you have been quite compliant with my demands–”

He seemed confused for a second, until you pulled yourself up and nuzzled against his neck, letting out your prettiest little moans every time his hips hit yours. With your voice low enough just for him to hear, you gave him what he wanted.

“Please Slade, I need it” The out of rhythm thrusts and the low grunt that you felt through his chest told you everything you needed to know. “I need your cum inside of me, fuck your cum into your good girl”

He slapped a hand on the wall behind you and wrapped his other arm around your waist, moving you faster up and down with his own thrusts forward. He grunted louder and louder in your ear, getting closer to his release. You had no idea if it was the begging or his reaction to it that turned you on, but you were getting pretty close as well.

“Fuck, little bird” His voice was rough and low, and you couldn't help the nip to his throat instead of something louder. “I'll ruin you– I'll fucking ruin you”

“Please ruin me” You whined, feeling the familiar crescendo of your orgasm build. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, please, I'm so close, please don't stop”

“C'mon, be a good girl and cum for me”

He drove you into the wall with his hips and the friction of his belt on your clit drove you to the edge. You had expected it, but holy shit, your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your walls clenched around him hard and you pulled him deeper into you with your legs, holding onto him with everything you got. Your vision fully went white and your teeth bit into his neck like they had a mind of their own.

After a string of swears, he completely lost his rhythm and stilled, his hips sputtering forward and spilling inside of you with a low moan that almost got you ready for another round.

You didn't move for a moment, focusing on catching your breath. Your eyes were half closed, glazed over, watching sweat pearl over Slade's exposed skin and your bite mark slowly disappearing on his neck.

“Something interesting about my neck, miss Nightshade?”

A genuine smile curved up your lips at his comment; the same he had made all those weeks ago when you were waltzing around the dance floor. “Just admiring the view, that's all” You signed, content. “Why, are you afraid I will bite it off?”

He shook his head, looking up at the sky in a failed attempt to appear annoyed that you also remembered exactly what you replied.

“Huh, I guess you were into it after all” You mumbled as you slowly let yourself slide off of him and fell back on your feet.

He took a good look at the mess he had made, seeming satisfied at how your knees slightly buckled as you hit the ground. Without a word, he pulled himself back in his trousers and readjusted his belt.

You then started to pull back on your suit, the rough material now sitting uncomfortably on your sweaty skin. “That's gonna be a bitch to clean…” You thought aloud, realizing tonight's run was far from over and the many body fluids would have time to nicely settle in the fabric.

“You said not a drop on the outside” Slade commented, then pointed at the clearly not soiled outside layer of the suit. “And none there is”

You couldn't help but laugh as your eyes subconsciously went to his own suit, where the glistening on his thigh guards extended to darker spots on his trousers. Anybody catching a glimpse of it would know exactly what caused the wet spot, and nobody would mistake it for him soiling himself. “Can't say the same for you”

He looked down, then frowned in what you could only describe as a cartoonish way. “Hm. This is upsetting. Whatever will I do”

Both of your eyebrows shot up as you let out a short laugh of disbelief. “What that… a joke?”

He only gave you a stern look that didn’t quite reach his good eye as he put back his mask on.

“Oh, he has a sense of humour now? Who would have known” Despite your half dizzy state, your brain still found enough drive to tease him about it. Considering he was rearranging your guts minutes ago, you believed it was now fair game.

He pointed a warning finger at you after he finished making sure everything was strapped correctly on his armour. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood”

You rolled your eyes as you flipped back your hood on. “Yeah I fucking bet. ‘Can say thank you Nightshade about it”

As expected, he elected not to comment on that. He only turned around and looked over his shoulder. “Until next time, little bird”

You did gratuitously check out his ass as he walked away, then prepared a damn good reason to give Batman to explain your dishevelled state.

#slade wilson x f!reader #slade wilson x batsis!reader #slade wilson x reader #deathstroke x reader #deathstroke x f!reader #deathstroke x batsis!reader #dc fic #dc writing #dcu #DCU fic

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wulvercazz · 1 year ago

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🌧️Memories🌧️

part 3 is hereee, this one is a bit longer too :>c Next part will be a written-only update, btw!

Previous~

Even after weeks of working so close to Grimmjow every night, listening to him complain about how much he touches him, hearing his taunts and questioning his skills, he still can't properly wrap his head around how easy it is to fall into conversation with it. Him - he supposes. He's gotten startled several times now, in the middle of the night when he works on trying to put Grimmjow back together, when he's met by the icey, robotic cyan of his optic sensors instead of actual human eyes.

But he tries not to think too much about it. The least he needs right now are life-altering revelations- Grimmjow's creator is simply a genius who created an impecable code, that's all. Nothing about the silent pondering behind his synthetic face can be human, even if something in his gut churns everytime he denies it.

His uncanny valley reaction is just dusty from all this time of working around their fabricated faces.

None of them look quite like Grimmjow, though, now that he's mostly put together what parts of his body he could bring with him, he's... not as nightmarish to look at (or listen to) anymore. Perhaps even handsome, with that nasty gash in his right cheek-jaw faceplate and all.

But this is only superficial handiwork. Sure, the gross mess of cable-guts is now nicely rearranged and set back along his metallic spine; even while the materials he used clash with the clean cyan and metal and white of his creator's masterpiece, and the jagged ripped edges of the synthetic meat-gel are shaved down to a clean cut. The disfigured nub that hanged from his left shoulder removed completely, and the inside is still but a barren puzzle. He's missing too many pieces.

Grimmjow can lift himself, barely, holding his weight in his sole standing limb; serving him more like a stiff table leg than an actual arm. He can control his face well enough to mock him all along. But the rest of him sits frozen in his work table, and he's even more confused by his insides than he was about his outside - no one works with technology such as this, no one worries about innovative mechanisms looking human. He's almost tempted to give his old man a call and ask for his medical expertice to help.

Every time he sighs in frustration, Grimmjow's eye attempts to twitch harder in annoyance; his surprised the thing hasn't popped out it's socket.

"Why do you care at all?" He asks, again, for the thousandth time this week. Each time he asks, Grimmjow sounds more and more just as frustrated as he does. And every time Ichigo doesn't know what to answer, but bouncing ideas off someone has always helped him get unstuck.

"Whoever... built you..." he says it almost tentatively, like Grimmjow isn't aware he's not human, "had clearly a much more advanced understanding of androids than me. More advanced even than pretty much anyone who's made android fabrication their life work... but the technology is so..." organic, he wants to say, instead, he lets his words die with a sigh. "I don't think I can fix you without their help."

"Then don't." Grimmjow grumbles, like its the obvious answer.

"But- it's-- you are-" Ichigo's not even sure why he's arguing with him, but somehow the idea of stopping now is... "it doesn't seem right."

Grimmjow stares blankly at him, but he can tell the android's judging him with every bit of elctronic fiber in his being.

Stubborness sets on his brow. --

He should've done this sooner. Ichigo hides under his crusty old parka and uses the dim light of his work glasses to skim every sticky corner of the alley he found Grimmjow in. It's a long shot, if it's even here at all; it's been weeks and he didn't see it at all the night he brought him over... but then, it was dark then too. He's more and more thankful for his work gloves with every sopping wet piece of trash he lifts off the ground; more thankful to his ratty parka when the rain just grows heavier and heavier, enough that even the layers of lit up buildings and roads can't stop all of it from licking his face and sopping wet ankles.

There's still pieces of broken metal everywhere, broken white plates of fake musculature accumulating water and dirt in their crevices, lumps of what he hopes is mushed up stinky trash littering every cranny. He swallows back the urge to vomit and lifts up another water-soft piece of cardboard, and he almost pukes anyway when he sees the core, caked in more lumpy trash. He's not sure if it's an excited or a disgusted nausea, but at least he can go back home. Victorious, for once.

"You sure to do this you gotta get all up on my business?" Grimmjow asks above him the next night; Ichigo's got the dry, clean, memory core in one hand as he feels for the correct bits and pieces to press on on the back of the large port in his middle.

"How else will I reconnect your memory core?" He barely mutters, too concentrated on getting the thing to fit porperly; too focused on work, even though this is technically a side project, because finally something is moving forward. "Just stay still already." He shots right after when Grimmjow fidgets again in his spot.

He looks up, only for a second, when Grimmjow doesn't retaliate with another insult or jibe; his glowing eyes are looking away, and his hand suddenly feels hyper aware of how 'in his business' it really is. If he were human... and, fuck, he really needs to stop making this idiotic comparisons... he'd almost expect to catch Grimmjow blushing.

He stops thinking altogether, because shame is simply impossible in a droid, and instead keeps his mind on track with work; "you'll get back full access to your memories as soon as this clicks in place, alright? So... take it easy, I don't need you bursting something because we overloaded it with information."

"Just do it."

Ichigo waits for just half a breath, and with a soft click the core is inside, lighting up in the same bright cyan as the rest of him to signal it's successful reconnection.

Grimmjow's face goes blank, and for a second such an android-like expression worries him. His eyes more devoid of emotion even than when he slept, half torn apart; the light in his eyes glitching sickeningly like they're looking through at inhuman speed. And then... nothing. Grimmjow's eyes fall closed and so does the light in his body extinguish all across.

"Grimmjow...?" He barely mumbles. Grimmjow's lights turn right back up and his eyes open wildly, what little he can move of his body jolting in place like he's fighting back something. Ichigo's barely had time to stumble back to safety when present time returns to the android. The way he looks at Ichigo is only different in the way he seems to look with even more understanding in his eyes, and that alone would be more worrying if only he wasn't so concerned at the time.

"Professor Jaegerjaquez will not be helping you.. or anyone." He says in the most robotic voice he's ever heard from him, suddenly appropriate enough that it feels like he's reading from a script, and Ichigo doesn't even get the chance to ask him to elaborate because Grimmjow's chillingly human voice comes back to say; "I watched him die."

Next~

#Android AU #ichigo kurosaki #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #Android!Grimmjow #ichigrimm #一グリ #robot gore #Bleach #grimmIchi

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things-about-cars-in-posts · 7 months ago

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what do you like about cars?

I think you knew, upon asking this, that I could only ever have answered with either an ironic one-liner or a dozen-part novel. And unfortunately, this is already the second line, so novel it is. So then, without any further ado than the literal half year that’s gone by since this was asked, let's go.

1. Engineering matters

At the end of last year (aka when I started writing this, yikes) my dear old iPhone 6S moved on to a new home because it simply wasn't keeping up with me anymore. (And again, I was using an iPhone 6S in 2023. If I say a phone is too slow, it's too slow.) I had plenty of criteria for the replacement: a smallish screen not overboard on resolution, ideally a physical media control button and/or vibration toggle, repairability, a FUCKING AUX JACK... Something like the Sony Xperia 10, whose only real issue is marketing so trash you've only just now learned Sony never stopped making phones.

And yet...

This fancy wallpapers-sporting foldable is a Motorola RAZR 5G, a phone whose too-big screen already broke (though at the edge due to adhesive issues) and those who dared try warn repairing it will be as hard as phone repairs get. Why the fuck did I buy this? Well, because it has something more important than the aux jack, proper sizing, and good cameras: it made me go “That’s so cool!”, and when’s the last time a phone made you say that? It's the cusp of a new technology, and whether it becomes the future of phones, a future of phones, or just a weird footnote, it is an island of interesting in a sea of boring. And sadly, even this island is rapidly sinking. The drive for new form factors has already boiled down to the same two phones and their evolution is sinking into the usual millimetric proportion tweaking, camera rearranging, touchscreen expanding, case material switching, fingerprint sensor moving, and spec improvements not even manufacturers can come up with use cases for. I mean, seriously, how does the iPhone 15 differ from a software-updated iPhone X (which is apparently not pronounced "x", so I guess the iPhone Twitter)? Nothing is new. Nothing is tackled differently. The user experience does not differ. And why should it, when iPhone users will get a new one out of habit anyway and many are so tech illiterate moving a button could hospitalize them? Five generation newer and 150% faster are numbers you basically have to trust, because they don't make a difference that matters.

But in cars? 150% faster will matter alright. Even just looking at it. Cars are a visceral experience to even witness, let alone ride in or drive, and the frantic engineering pursuits for performance and overall capability actually have impactful real world implications beyond "some pockets will bulge 1mm less". And their engineering involves so many fields that there’s always a breakthrough going on somewhere - which leads to another reason their engineering is so interesting: there’s simply so much of it that anyone interested in engineering will find something for them, no matter their level or sector of expertise! Interested in mechanics? Well, obviously you’ll have a field day! Aerodynamics? Don't even get me started! Electronics? You're getting more goods by the year! It spread from engine management to safety assists to infotainment to ergonomic adjustments to even suspension and aerodynamics! Sound design? Even just working on the way engines sound is a profession of its own, let alone making these barrels of metal and glass propelling themselves at triple digit speeds through hundreds of explosions a second things you can comfortably have a conversation in - and that's not even mentioning horns and chimes! Hi-Fi? We’ve spent most of a century trying to get concert hall sound from a tiny tin can where everyone sits off-center and everything bumps and shakes around and you have maybe room for two components* a third the normal size and speakers can only be in a handful of places you wouldn’t want them which may well be the next room over**!

And this is just engineering.

*Like everything in the car world, there are exceptions to that

**For those unfamiliar, subwoofers, the speakers dedicated to, indeed, sub-bass, due to their frequent humongousness are often installed in the trunk.

#stay tuned for part 2!#sony phones *are* great btw #they are sold in actual colors and they're full of cool features #their aux jack can double as a stereo input!!!

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sleepysuburb · 3 months ago

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chinnery, pauline, bernice and mrs levinson 😩

these feel TARGETED

under the cut because i have a lot of hcs and they might get long

chinnery

he'd love a pet of his own more than anything, but can't have one for obvious reasons. instead he has a bunch of those little animatronic toy animals with touch sensors, so he can pet them to decompress after work.

once he starts drinking he finds it extremely difficult to stop. more than once he's gone for a half pint to take the edge off and wound up blackout drunk and sobbing. at this point barbara's fairly used to him being in floods of tears in the back of her cab.

he smells like disinfectant, silage and wet wool. it's not unpleasant, just musty and weird.

he's hopeless with dating. yes, he's tried it - but as soon as someone finds out he's THAT vet, they make an excuse to leave and never talk to him again. even attachments wouldn't help him and to this day he's devastated they put 'not at all kind to animals' on his profile without even asking him.

pauline

he can't sleep without his nature soundscape cassette. either it's birdsong and rainfall, or a sleepless night.

bernice

she's an astrology freak and treats herself to a trash mag every few days, mostly so she can check her horoscope.

she's rarely sick, so when she is she makes it a whole event. constant complaining, duvet on the couch, game shows, cartoons and bargain hunt on the TV all day... whoever's there looking after her has to make her chicken noodle soup - and feed it to her - and keep her topped up with lucozade, otherwise they're "ruining it".

tells people she drinks black coffee, but she actually loads it up with mental amounts of cream, sugar and syrup.

she has hoarding tendencies. it's a constant battle to keep her space clean and tidy, because she has a habit of trawling charity shops and grabbing any bric-a-brac, clothes, books or soft toys she takes a liking to. no, she's not getting rid of her garfield plush collection, she's imprinted on them all and it would be like chucking out family.

her eyesight is horrible and she's blind as a bat without her glasses. one time in prison she got into a fight and broke them, and requested to be sent to solitary until they were fixed so she wouldn't have to worry about fumbling her way around.

her favourite pen is the one mickey gave her at the end of his restart course. that's what she'll say if you ask her in front of him, but her actual favourite pen is a metallic pink gel pen she never uses to keep it in pristine condition.

under her clothes she's absolutely covered with tattoos, all blue linework and traditional designs (mermaids, anchors, stars, angels and devils...)

mrs levinson

she has a massive unlicensed weapon collection, but being the vicar, everyone turns a blind eye.

she hates christmas, but her favourite holiday is halloween; she likes drenching herself in fake blood and revving a real chainsaw at trick or treaters to scare them away, and then steals the sweets they end up dropping.

the communion wine hasn't been wine for ages, but somehow nobody's noticed she swapped it for vodka with red dye in it yet.

despite everything she loves her job because she enjoys hearing everyone's business. it gives her a huge amount of power to know the intimate details of everyone's life, who's shagging who, who's got crippling depression, who's stealing from work... she could ruin everyone's lives in an instant, but she likes to bide her time until someone really pisses her off.

she's a bottle blonde. for years she had mousy brown hair and hated it, thinking it made her look plain and dull. pretty soon after she bleached it, iris bleached hers too in competition, so now it's a constant battle to see who can maintain it the best.

she's cycled through lots of self-employed jobs to try and find purpose after eddie's death - counselling, making her own jewellery, countless pyramid schemes, the massage parlour. none have worked out.

she does some "romance" (read: dirty) writing in her free time under a pen name, and it gives her a real ego boost to go out in royston vasey and hear people discussing her books without knowing she's sitting right there.

any 'designer' clothing or bags she bought after eddie's death are likely cheap fakes. nobody except her would ever know, but she does sometimes get paranoid that someone's going to see the wonky coach logo on her handbag and call her out for it.

she has hookups occasionally, with both men and women, if the loneliness gets too much for her. her sexuality is complicated and she doesn't want to label herself, but as time goes on she's finding herself favouring women more and more.

#thank you ml!#tlog #league of gentlemen #the league of gentlemen #matthew chinnery #pauline campbell jones #bernice woodall #judee levinson

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cleverwordsandotherstuffilike · 16 days ago

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A city in the Netherlends once had a problem with citizens throwing their trash on the ground rather than depositing it in the trash cans; the city administration discussed how to solve this growing problem. They tried doubling the fine for littering, but that had no effect. Another proposed solution was to patrol the area more often, but this didn't work either.

A suggestion to install sensors that would detect each time garbage was placed in the trash cans and pay 10 guilders was promising. However, this practice would have bankrupted the city. Finally, they came up with the idea that a joke would be played each time trash was thrown into the trash can (the jokes were changed bi-weekly). This was a great success, and the city was cleaned up.

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superman86to99 · 4 months ago

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Action Comics #701 (July 1994)

"THE FALL OF METROPOLIS," Finale! The final (for now) battle between Superman and Lex Luthor! Wait, isn't Luthor practically a vegetable now? Is this just 22 pages of Superman beating up a cripple? No, it's actually a fair fight because Lex is back to his old Pre-Crisis habit of wearing purple robot armors (I guess they're traditionally more green than purple, but still).

As seen last issue, Lex's paralyzed body is being taken to S.T.A.R. Labs in an ambulance so they can administer the cure to the Clone Plague that left him in this state, but he's got other priorities: mainly, punching Superman. Following Lex's programming, a Kryptonian Battle Suit (the same one that Superman just sorta left laying around in Metropolis during "Reign of the Supermen") comes to retrieve him, trashing that poor ambulance in the process.

Now able to see and hear again thanks to the armor's sensors, Lex witnesses the destruction in Metropolis for the first time and is like "I can't believe I accidentally destroyed the city I love... anyway, let's destroy it some more!" More specifically, he wants to destroy the statue of Superman that stands atop what was once his tomb.

Superman comes to stop Lex from causing even more property damage (and prevent him from showing what's inside the tomb and spoiling a storyline that isn't supposed to start yet...). Superman evades the armor's punches and missiles, but Lex is able to club him with the statue itself -- which you already saw on the cover, but I'm showing it to you again because it's such a cool image.

Lex tries stepping on Superman and burning him with ignited rocket fuel (so hot that it turns the armor's hand into a stump), but Superman is Superman, so he ends up ripping the suit open, taking Luthor out... and flying him to S.T.A.R. so they can give him the cure. Because, again, he's Superman. But, unlike Superboy and other Clone Plague victims, Lex doesn't simply go back to normal after getting the cure: he's still paralyzed, probably because his clone body was "grown more quickly" than the others (he should sue that Dabney Donovan fellow for his shoddy rush job).

Of course, Lex blames Superman for the results of his own dumbass choices and swears that one day he'll make him pay...

...but, for now, he better get comfy in that bed, because he's gonna be there for a good while. THE END!

Plotline-Watch:

That closes the actual "Fall of Metropolis" storyline, but Metropolis will remain fallen for a little while longer.

This is also the end of the Clone Plague storyline, since Lex was the last surviving clone to get the cure. If you're wondering what happened to the Underworlders: at S.T.A.R., Dr. Kitty Faulkner says they all "seem to have perished." Damn, even the babies? That's brutal. Considering they never appeared again except in flashbacks, Kitty is probably right, but I prefer to believe they simply retreated even deeper underground and never had to deal with the surface world's bullshit ever again.

Lex wearing a green/purple armor finally fulfills the tease seen on the first page of 1986's The Man of Steel #5, when we're made to think a random goon in a proto-Lex-Men suit is Lex. Then we see businessman Lex himself and it's like "Ha! You thought this Lex Luthor would ever be caught dead inside something so corny? Dream on, nerds!"

This issue is written by Karl Kesel (plot) and Louise Simonson (dialogue) since Roger Stern left in Action #700 and the new guy hasn't arrived yet. Speaking of Stern, that blurb at the end saying that hopefully both he and Lex will return one day is exactly what's gonna happen, but it won't be in Action or any of the existing Super-Titles...

Shout Outs-Watch:

Awesome Kryptonian Battle Robot-sized shout outs to our supporters, Aaron, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, Bheki Latha, Mark Syp, Ryan Bush, Raphael Fischer, Kit, Sam, Bol, and Dave Shevlin! Join them (and get extra articles) via Patreon or our newsletter’s “pay what you want” mode!

And now, keep reading for the great Don Sparrow's take on this issue, Roger Stern's run in general, and what does Clone Lex have between his legs...?

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):

We start with the cover, and it’s appropriate for a title like Action—Superman’s Kryptonian warsuit duking it out with the Man of Steel at his own memorial. Great sense of motion from the rubble flying off, without motion lines, which is a real feat. It also reveals that the Superman statue in Metropolis Memorial Park is in fact stone or concrete. This whole time I was imagining it was bronze (we don’t have many stone sculptures in my neck of the woods in Northern Canada, as they tend to crack with the wild temperature differentials).

Inside we’re treated to back to back splash pages to open the story, both with a great look at the rogue warsuit in action. The image of the suit plucking a stark naked Lex Luthor is a pretty memorable one. And if you’re a fan of nude Lex, this issue doesn’t disappoint. I hesitate to even mention such a thing, but is this is the first canonical appearance of Luthor’s pubic hair? Moving on…

[Max: I always took that as a shadow. That panel did make me wonder if Lex's clone body had everything, or if perhaps he asked Dabney Donovan to forget certain parts and just focus on making sure his pecs and abs remain rock hard even if a plague turns him into an old person.]

The image of Superman flying in to combat the Lex-driven warsuit is an all-timer, and would have made a great sticker.

The battle in this issue is reminiscent of the "Doomsday" storyline, in that we’re treated to super-sized panels, with only one or two images per page. This is a treat, as the artwork really gets to breathe, but it has the unfortunate effect of making the issue a pretty quick read, as there’s a lot less text than in a normal issue. It also makes my job of picking the standout panels a little harder, as they’re all pretty stunning throughout the book. The image of a raging Superman, having just thrown some missiles back at Lex is a good one, and very en vogue in this era, the peak of Image Comics grim & gritty style. The image of the warsuit brought to one knee was another standout, as I really appreciate the difference in textures, the sold lugubrious brushline on the warsuit denoting its shininess, against the greasepencil looking streaks in the sky illustrating tendrils of smoke.

We get another intense Superman image on page 19, where Superman marches out of the flame undaunted (visually recalling the utterly badass house ad for the Super titles in 1990). One of the final images we see is Superman carrying the limp, near-dead body of Luthor into flight. Again, I think decency dictated this pose—surely carrying him in both arms, pieta style would have been safer for the passenger, but then we’d get an eyeful. Is there a reason Lex couldn’t just be wearing underwear throughout? [Max: Lex hates Superman so much that he refuses to wear undies on the inside OR the outside.]

SPEEDING BULLETS:

Well, at least Superman also acknowledged that leaving the warsuit on the docks was stupid.

This issue seems to reveal that Kryptonian metal isn’t all that much more durable than regular metal, as Superman shatters the leg of the warsuit pretty easily. In the silver age, it was unscientifically explained that Kryptonian metal was also super-charged by Earth’s yellow sun and lessened gravity, making it way stronger than conventional metal.

It’s a rare thing that a cover image comes to pass but we really do see Lex knocking Superman through his own memorial in a great splash on pages 10-11.

For such a knock-down drag out fight, taking the suit apart seems pretty easily for Superman on page 20—the very next panel, Lex is out of the suit, and in Superman’s arms.

A side by side comparison reveals that they really did redraw Lex on the last panel, despite similarities to how he is shown on page 12.

We are left with a small farewell caption to the great Roger Stern, with a hint that he—and Lex—could return to the super-books in the future. “When we least expect it” would prove to be a little over a year later, but we’ll drive off that bridge when we come to it. Perhaps because he’s not a writer/artist like John Byrne, Dan Jurgens or Jerry Ordway, it took a little while for me to recognize Stern’s greatness on these books. But his Action Comics title consistently had some of the very best characterization and consistency in all these stories. So many of my favourite moments (Lois finding out Superman’s secret identity, Batman getting Luthor’s Kryptonite ring, the return of Amanda McCoy, the introduction of Maxima) were all Stern scripts, and that’s saying something. While in retrospect, I don’t love Supergirl being a protoplasmic synthetic entity, or Lex Jr. being a secret Aussie clone of Lex Sr. (storylines that mainly featured in Action) those were interesting options for their time, and certainly don’t stand in the way of Stern being among the all-time greats when it comes to Superman writers. And, from my own weird personal point of view, much of the spiritual stuff I’ve collected over the years in our now-famous Godwatch feature has come from Stern. So, God bless you, Roger Stern!

In an interesting sidenote that has no better place than here to mention—were you aware that in the Law and Order franchise, there have been dozens of characters with the last name Stern, which originated as a shout-out to Roger Stern from fellow comics writer turned Law and Order writer Gerry Conway (creator of no less than Firestorm, Power Girl and Killer Croc)? There’s even a particularly creepy episode of Law & Order: Criminal Intent where a perp has that exact name. Conway also frequently used Hudson University in his episodes, which comics fans know is the alma mater of one Dick Grayson—which essentially means Law and Order is set in the DC Universe. Cha-chunk! [Max: Wait, does that mean all of the DC Universe takes place inside some kid's snow globe?]

#superman #karl kesel #louise simonson #jackson guice #denis rodier #awesome kryptonian battle robot #underworlders #kitty faulkner #fall of metropolis #clone plague #lex luthor's dingus #or lack thereof

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dumvixerum · 7 months ago

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So, I thought about androids having a stomach, and I think that some models have like a trash in their belly to put everything that goes in their mouth. Maybe cooks ? If they want to taste smth. And that would also explain why Alice can eat, since Kara also makes food for her.

From my point of view, Alice is like a life-sized doll, one of those creepy babies that our family always gave to us girlies (gave me chills tbh I hate dolls 💀) so she probably could eat stuff, but Todd (or herself or kara ofc) had to empty her "stomach" once in a while.

Connor probs don't have one, but I would think his tongue has extra sensors so he can analyze liquids and stuff.

#just me rambling #but this shit has been stuck in my head since the first gameplay i watched like-#but honestly it's sooo interesting to ask yourself those questions #i love thinking about those small things that are in fact really important :]]]#dbh #alice detroit become human #detroit become human #dbh connor #connor rk800 #alice dbh #stomachs #okay that's a weird tag 💀

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hidefdoritos · 10 months ago

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So, for Christmas break, I've been staying with a very considerate older couple. When I got here, I found out that they're also...comfortably wealthy. I wish I could have been live-blogging my stay here, but this summary post will have to suffice.

MOSS'S MUSINGS: HOUSEGUEST EDITION.

-Ask which dishes you are allowed to use. I didn't know this would even be a question--I grew up with one set of dishes--but it matters. The dishes we've been using are red with snowmen on them. Tonight I put my soup in a red bowl with Christmas trees around the edge. That was wrong and bad. I have been told that they "prefer I not use that" because it is "for special occasions," and was told to "set it aside so I can hand-wash it." Side note, rich people also own things that can't go in the dishwasher. Thankfully they told me about this ahead of time.

-In general, they make requests when they mean to give you instructions. "I'm having some ladies over tonight, so if you'd like to clean the bathroom, that would be fine." = I, Moss, need to clean the bathroom before I leave for work this morning. They're secret instructions--instructions in a suggestion-shaped suit. I like to think of it as a secret code that I'm very smart for solving. It helps me to not tear my hair out.

-House thing that shook me to the core: They have heat vents on the floors under the sinks! So you can wash your hands or wash dishes and your feets don't get cold!

-Speaking of heat: heated mattress pads exist! It's like a heating pad for your whole body. High settings are nice for muscle aches; low settings are so cozy to sleep on.

-Speaking of mattresses: The guest room has a Sleep Number mattress. I think it's a scam. It's a balloon under your mattress to adjust the firmness/softness. I am 240 lbs. If it isn't over half inflated, my butt's on the bedframe.

-They are weird about trash. All food waste is handled separately and taken straight to the bin in the garage so it doesn't smell. The kitchen trash can lid has a motion sensor. It's automatic. Scared the daylights out of me when I first walked past it to get water at night.

-Speaking of water, ask what water you should use. Tap is not acceptable to some! My hosts have a fridge dispenser. Unfortunately it dispenses cold water. I have worked around this by getting water in advance of my needs and letting it change toward room temp. Also, you can't put drinks on the furniture! Wood is different from the plastic-coated OSB furniture that I grew up with. I must remember now to use coasters because any spills or drips can leave white marks.

-When they start discussing money, try not to let your mouth drop open at the amount of zeroes. One host bought a new car and was bragging to me about how he only paid $28,000, and that was actually $5,000 off for having a certain type of credit card. I just worked the mental math for the discount percentage to keep my brain from exploding. $5k is more than I paid for my entire car. My family motto is "Buy used and drive it 'til the wheels fall off." I did not say so.

-Most importantly, they've been extremely kind and generous to me. They dropped my rent for the month down to almost nothing. They bought any groceries I expressed interest in. I'm going back to campus with some of the best homemade soup of my life, and a coupon for an oil change, and a new appreciation for dark chocolate almonds. When I got here, my hostess had set up a desk for my sewing machine in her sewing room (!! a whole room for sewing!!) and taught me to use a rotary cutter and an iron that's entirely too complex.

tl;dr rich-ish people are super weird about some things you wouldn't expect, and your head will explode a few times, but they're still people and my overall experience has been great.

#houseguest tag #moss's musings

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ephemeralbutterfly · 4 months ago

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Fluffy Steve Fest Rec List: July 4: Birthday

Hello everyone! I am doing daily themed rec lists for @fluffystevefest. The fics are related (some more loosely than others) to the daily prompts. The number of fics for any given day and prompt varies, but I have at least one fic for each day. There's also a wide variety of fic types and ratings, so I hope there will be something for everyone.

The lists are vertically long, so I've put them behind a cut.

Today's fics are a grab bag.

Happy birthday, Steve!

Dancing

Captain America Finds His Fella by PR Zed (@trappingsofzed)

Rating: Teen Pairing: Stucky Summary: When she reached her eighties, Audrey though she was done with change. She thought things would continue as they always had. Instead, Steve and his friends have brought her more change than she'd gone through in the twenty years before. She gets used to one routine, and then a new one crops up. Or what happens when an elderly USO showgirl helps her super hero friend and his boyfriend. Comments: This is the third part of the Captain America Has a Fella series; I recommend reading the prior parts first. Steve isn't the one dancing here, but dancing does feature prominently.

Wishes

Against All Odds by spinawren (@wrenaspun)

Rating: Teen Pairing: Can be read as gen or as Stucky preslash Summary: Steve wakes up feeling so terrible that his first thought is that the serum somehow has worn off. His second thought, when he opens his eyes to see hard grey pavement, is that maybe he’s been sent back in time. He’d definitely spent a few nights next to trash cans in seedy alleys in the 30s, and stranger things than time travel had happened in his life so far. What was one more thing to add to the list? When he manages to wrench his head downwards enough to look at himself, though, he realises pretty quickly that he’s an idiot. And that he’s a cat. Summary: Steve wants to help Bucky. Thanks to magic, he gets that wish granted, just not in the way anyone would expect.

Little Red Button by scribblywobblytimeylimey

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Stony Summary: Sequel to 'All There in the Manual' for firelordstark: “[I]t would be interesting if roleplaying an android were an actual kink of his and not just his subconscious trying to construct a situation where Tony would be interested in him.” (What do you know? Freud was right.) Tony takes so well to Steve's suggestion he starts to wish he'd mentioned it sooner. It's easy to believe the rest of it – that he's the sex-toy android Tony built for when Steve's not around, built to please him, modded within an inch of his life to react to pressure sensors in all the right places – when Tony's even gone as far as to integrate a voice modification filter that fits like a gag but lets out every last sound, not quite in Steve's voice, but flattened a little with a tinny edge, just like he *would* sound if he *were* a robot sex toy. And that's not even all of it. One of these days, he's going to learn to never underestimate Tony Stark. Comments: Steve gets his sexy desires met in this fic. It is not necessary to read the prequel to understand what's going on. Do mind the tags.

Party

Make It Till You Fake It by AggressiveWhenStartled

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Stucky Summary: “Ned,” Peter said, like a drowning man sighting land. “Ned. Captain America and the Winter Soldier are fake dating right now and it is the most painfully awkward and obvious thing I have ever seen, all of us want to die, Ned.” Comments: Funny and lighthearted. Somehow both borderline crack and also entirely in character and believable. It's not a birthday party, but there is a party featured.

#fluffystevefest #steve rogers #captain america #rec list #recs #marvel #bucky barnes #winter soldier #tony stark #iron man

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thehomophobe · 27 days ago

Text

When encountering a child 🧒: Part 1

Freddy 🐻: It was a few minutes before closing time and Freddy decided took take one last look through Fazerblast before heading back to his greenroom. All the S.T.A.F.F. bots were all taken to maintenance after a huge birthday party blew out the laser tag arena. Let's just say...the kids got a little rowdy...

The only source of life (in this case robotic life) is the little wet floor bots, warning any unexpected visitors of the mess. And of course, Freddy himself. So when the soft sobs swam into his audio receptors, Freddy became alert. The arena was pretty dark, so he had to rely on the optical sensors for finding the source.

*sob sob*

The sound was close. Just around the corner. Freddy tries to quiet his footing, but with his metallic feet it was hard to soften them. Behind a panel reveal a small child in gray, silently sobbing in fetal position. Upon closer inspection, the child was unharmed but distress levels rose and fell slowly. They must've been overstimulated by the arena.

"Superstar, are you lost?" Freddy kneeled to the child. They back away in fright, scared of the muscular android in front of them.

"I do not mean any harm. I only concern for your safety." Freddy stated as he scanned the child's face.

NO GUEST IDENTIFICATION FOUND

"I can not find your guest identification in the system. Tell me, what is your name?"

"(Y-(Y/N)..." The child sucked a breath.

"Are your parents still the Mega Pizzaplex?"

The child calmed down after seeing the android really didn't mean any harm. Sobs and pants of fear die down to normal breathing as their heartbeat lessen softly. "N-No...They left me..." The child said timidly. "They all left me..." Tears slid down the cheeks of the kid's face once more. Freddy felt bad, doleful for the child situation. How would their parents just leave them here without taking a second glimpse back.

"That's...horrible Superstar..." Said Freddy. The lights slowly dim away. The plex was closed; it was too late for anyone to leave or come in anymore. For the time, Freddy wanted to give the child at least a comfortable place to stay until the plex opens again.

"Would you like to stay in my green room until the next dawn? I will help you find your parents until then."

The child nodded, wiping away the leftover tear streaks and held Freddy's outstretched hand.

Chica 🐔: Closing time. Which means snacking time!

Between the soft ambience of background music, clunky shoes clicked onto flooring in haste. Chica makes a mad dash passed security bots, hiding behind boxes and implanted greenery when needed to. A tough mission but she was built for this. Mazercise was her daily training session, if she runs through the entire thing she can run pass these guys. "Hang tight frozen pineapple pizza. I shall reunite with you on this very night." Chica internally monologues. Recently she watched a cool heist movie with a coworker last night after they fixed the screen in the arcade.

And now she feels like one of the characters. On a dastardly mission with high risk and high reward.

*(insert a montage of Chica passing by dozens of security)*

After the final mile, Chica swiftly made it into the kitchen. During her break-in she temporarily disabled the worker bot inside. Can't have any witnesses.

Synthetic hands rubbed against each other in triumph and mischievous glee. "Alright, now where is it...?" She ponders. It's time for a kitchen hunt. Around every corner, inside every crate and cupboard, she goes aimlessly around the kitchen.

Because she forgot where the kitchen staff left it.

"It's not here either." Chica whined. With a finger tapping against her chin, she pondered. If she was a full box of frozen pineapple pizza, where would she be?

"OH! In the trash!" That's gotta be it. It's just a quick trip to the trash pile, nothing to big for her to handle.

*rumble rumble.*

"Hm?" Chica turned to the sound. Was someone coming? The door isn't locked so anyone can get in. Well, any bot can get it, the human staff had already left. *bamp*The sound of plastic dropping made the gynoid flinch. "Hello~?" She called out. Just making sure it's not an actual person.

*shuffle*

It's...it's...it's...

It's coming from the sink cabinet.

Chica stepped lightly and quietly (despite having chunky orange heels on) towards the living cabinet.

*shuffle*

It shuffled again! The sink is alive!

Wait wait wait...it's probably just a raccoon that snuck in. Chica shrugged and open the cabinet with ease...

...

Well it's not an animal, but it is a little kid.

The child was tiny, which explains why they could fit in the cabinet. Light grays were the color of choice for the kid, but little crumbs of brown, yellow and pink speckled their shirt. And well as their mouth, which was awkwardly straight.

"Hey! Did you take my pizza?" Chica raised a brow. The child turn frightened after hearing her demanding question. They shakes their head in fear. They felt guilty, even if they didn't eat the gynoid's pizza. Chica, after seeing this honesty and the fear emitted from the child, took a step back. She didn't mean to scare the kid, she just asked if they knew where the pizza was.

"Aw I'm sorry sweetie. I didn't mean to be rude." She said doply. "Come on, let's get you out of their." She gently grab the child out from the sink and into her arms to get a better look.

NO GUEST IDENTIFICATION FOUND

"Huh? That's weird. Usually every guest registers into the plex at the entrance. How did they get in?" Chica wiped the crumbs off the kid's face as she thought out loud.

*grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr* A tummy rumbled.

"Hehe. Guess you're still hungry huh?" The child nodded. "What's your name sweetie?"

"I'm (Y/N)." The child giggled.

Monty 🐊: "COME BACK HERE BRAT!" Monty growled. Tonight, all of nights, had to be when a kid snuck into the plex last minute. Those security bots really are stupid. And now because of them, Monty going around chasing the kid in Gator Golf. The kid was fast. Incredibly fast. But luckily for Monty, he's got more stamina since he charged after the last performance of the night.

Currently, the kid stands on top of one of the gator head in the course, waiting for Monty to make a turn. Whether it be right or left, they'll the opposite. What they don't know is what if Monty chose to crawl upward towards them. Behind the gator head was the pools of water, which were cold and still. Monty approached the kid slowly, like a carnivore hunting for fresh meat.

"Come on kid..." Monty groaned. Not of physical exhaustion, but of mental exhaustion from chasing this kid up down left right throughout the entire golf course. The doors leading outside the course were locked so the kid couldn't escape. The closer Monty got to the kid, the farther back they went.

But the kid knows that any further could lead into the freezing water.

"You don't want to take a swim, do ya?" Monty asked. The kid giggled and shook their head. They shifted left. They shifted right. They were definitely cornered.

...

*slip*

*splash*

Well...it was bound to happen. The kid fell into the ravine, disturbing the still waters of the course. Monty huffed, this kid...

The child flailed in the water, whether it be due to the cold or that they didn't learn how to swim. The android groaned like a tired father who was always overworked to the bone; two fingers pinched the synthetic nose bridge.

The reason why he's acting like this is because he knows this kid. He knows this rowdy child who always worn a child leash by their parents and somehow still manages to get off of it. He also knows that he was this kid's favorite.

"Hang tight hatchling, I'ma comin'" Monty reassured the kid as he took his clothes off, avoiding any questions on why his stage clothes were wet. He waded, the water barely reaching the shoulders. The waters in the course were deep, but not too deep. Underneath the murky pools lied the goofballs whiffed from today's course and were left to rot below. He could tell; he was stepping on all of them. The kid held onto Monty's torso and carried out the pool, wet with tears and chlorine.

"Jeez, I really gotta teach you how to swim."

#fnaf #fnaf security breach #five nights at freddy's security breach #security breach #fnaf sb #security breach headcanons #glamrock freddy #montgomery gator #glamrock chica #glamrock chica fnaf #platonic #child reader

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bluepoodle7 · 9 months ago

Text

#MonsterxMediator #NauseAxe_404 #Nick #IfNickWasAIllbleedLevel #MyThoughts

When I first saw Nick from Monster x Mediator in a youtube let's play video he gave me Woodcutter lumberjack vibes mixed with a yandere lover.

I really like his design and the way he said he knew a character by a blog felt like something that would happen in Zable's realm jumping travels but not have the walkie talkie just randomly appeared in the room not knowing the place.

Zable would probably write the 100 pages story about him being a boss in a Illbleed fan game then the B movie plot twist is him killing the Illbleed worker "controlling" him then chop down the exit to just leave the park not wanting the prize money.

I mean what does a immortal being need with money?

But just leaves but with the love interest crying that they want the prize money.

I also imagine the longer the player takes in the level by using the item sensor collecting items to heal up before battle, just standing around letting the time go, or just seeing the new traps in the level.

I can see Nick gets bored of waiting and just kills the Illbleed control worker and when you walk in the boss room he acts like you stood him up on a date but it was actually the boss battle with the boss room trashed up with axe marks everywhere.

Then you actually have to battle him to get him to leave with a axe yourself.

But you finally get to use your items in battle which is a first and last time this would happen would to give him a newly written story which would stop the battle with a cutscene of him just reading it sitting down.

Would be funny for the player to rescue him out of the level but you don't get the extra prize money for completing the level on time to get a different cutscene.

I imagine the gimmick of the level is the time limit your character gets before entering the boss battle stage.

The longer you take the more B movie silly the cutscene will be while if you do it on time it would be a normal cutscene with the Illbleed worker still alive.

But in the story you get more points when you get the B movie cutscene.

When the character is fighting Nick I can imagine the player also having a Axe themselves to attack and having a long robot glove hand weapons that pushes him close to the boss exit.

The goal is not to kill Nick but it's like a sumo wrestling match to which person gets pushed close to the either of the doors which would stop the battle.

If the player wins then a cutscene would him leaving the boss area while the Illbeed workers try to capture him but he pushes them out the way killing them.

If Nick wins it depends on the time limit.

If you are on time then he can kill you with his axe or choke the player which will cause a bleeding death or strength empty.

If the time limit if past then when Nick was going to kill you with his axe then a robot worker steps in to catch the blade then tells the player to run to the goal with him chasing you with the blood all over him which means he killed that worker.

Once you reach the goal of the level ends and you renter the hubworld where he's just there to chat with the player like he's a actor in a movie that was just playing how role.

Maybe see him drinking a couple of Hassy with the cans around him.

Also have Nick do that laugh he does and have the player randomly laugh back but awkwardly while saying "Why are we laughing?" then have the cutscene just end like Nick was going to say something but the game cuts him off.

If Nick had a Pokémon team.

He would have a shiny Haxorus as his main Pokémon for comfort.

Nick would have a Golurk too as a swapout for the last Pokémon.

Image not mine but link is there.

Haxorus - #612 - Serebii.net Pokédex

Pokémon Team Planner (richi3f.github.io)

Golurk - #623 - Serebii.net Pokédex

Basically the Illbleed styled fight but would have a Killerman boss stage with room to run around in and maybe try to make Nick trip due to how tall he is then just push him with the long range hand weapon to push him out of the stage.

A blog about obscurity stuff, plushies and food. on Tumblr: #Illbleed #WoodcuttersAxeWeapon #TheAxeWeapon The Woodcutters Axe and I like it that this Axe shrinks. 6:36 (On...

Now I want art trade of Nick and a Woodcutter enemy to swap clothes.

That would be awesome.

I can also see my oc Zable Fable say when finally pushing Nick to the exit with the long robot glove hands weapons.

"It's time to catch these hands."

I wish we got more info on Nick from Monster x Mediator.

If Zable Fable would interview him and ask questions like.

"Can you let me hold your Axe and talk to you?"

"Like does his species bleed?"

"What is his favorite food?"

"Have you touched any grass lately?"

"Have any other hobbies besides my blog and me?"

"How long have you had your axe?"

"Are you single?"

"Do you have any friends or family and can I meet them?"

"Can I see your face and are you okay?"

"What's is your favorite color?"

"Do you like to travel places? "

"Want to travel with me to random places?"

"Am I cringe?"

"How you are feeling big guy?"

"Am I your first superstar or just one of many?"

"How do you get your teeth so white and nice looking?"

"I know you say you are broken but I can try to help repair you."

"What was your childhood like as a Soulless Beast if you had one?"

The games, videos, and images not mine but links are there.

MONSTER X MEDIATOR by HeadLocker (itch.io)

Ringside but the reporter never shuts up (youtube.com)

I wanted a gif of the reporter interview from Rhythm Heaven.

[Rhythm Heaven Fever] ~ Ringside (Perfect) - YouTube

https://gifmaker.me/video-to-gif/viewimage/20240918-20-EzMWMCFPLe1zFaQj-1rQzdU-hnet

If someone can customized Nick in Soul Calibur that would be cool.

Like him having Astaroth or Berserker body type with his axe in hand.

I would give Nick the Soul Edge axe.

This is what I think Nick sounds like.

Soul Calibur II - Astaroth English Voice Clips (youtube.com)

Video Game Voice Comparison- Astaroth (Soul Calibur) (youtube.com)

I wish Soul Calibur was on the switch so I can try my best to customized John Doe and Nick so they can fight each other.

Maybe make Zable Fable too.

If John Doe was in Soul Calibur I think Voldo would be a good body type for a custom character since he attacks weird and Nick is Astaroth.

Video not mine but link is there.

Soul Calibur 2 - Voldo arcade mode (youtube.com)

I would also put Alex Blood in Soul Calibur as a custom character.

Since Alex Blood or Sanya is 8 ft tall.

So how tall is Nick or NauseAxe_404?

A blog about obscurity stuff, plushies and food. on Tumblr - #Alex Blood

(If Zable Fable had kids with Nick.)

If Nick and Zable had kids then the species would be called a Soulless Fella if it's more Soulless Beast in appearance with pointy ears and a Funny Beast it would be more jester like.

Both offspring would both have stitching on their bodies and look humanoid with tails.

This one really feels like him.

Soulcalibur V - Astaroth Voice Set (youtube.com)

Berserker | Soulcalibur Wiki | Fandom

Soulcalibur 2 HD Online - Extra Arcade with Astaroth - YouTube

Best Astaroth designs? : r/SoulCalibur (reddit.com)

Berserker | Soulcalibur Wiki | Fandom

Soul Edge (Axe) | Soulcalibur Wiki | Fandom

Another good voice for Nick.

My favorites 0:37, 0:41-0:44, 0:48-0:49,0:58-1:00, 1:40-1:42, 3:32-3:33, 3:36-3:44, and 3:45-3:46.

Video not mine but link is there.

Soulcalibur VI - Astaroth Voice Set (youtube.com)

Zable Fable Interactions With Nick

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

Zable Fable would be shocked if any version of the character blocked Nick and would said it was a accident due to the blog website this character used had too many fake sexy bot accounts that were spamming their page then accident blocked him before checking out his account.

Maybe have Zable say this while unblocking him in real time.

" I'm sorry dawg so no hard feelings."

If Fable was in control will try to eat Nick's axe this is in Zable's human vessel body to stop that attack that was harming the vessel body.

It's like storing a weapon for later but within the body.

Fable will give the weapon back if they feel like it's the right time.

Fable while in Zable's vessel body would have Nick's axe stored in the vessel body would try to trick Nick into running at the vessel trying to choke them while Fable holds onto the door knob to open it if he gets close to successfully get him out the room.

Have Fable cough back up the axe to give back to Nick then have Nick hitting the vessel like fall down bear.

Videos not mine but link is there.

Fall Down Bear! (youtube.com)

Illbleed (Dreamcast) Part 24 (youtube.com)

If I my art was really good I would draw Nick as a Wood Cutter in the outfit as last minute enemy in woodpuppets that replaces the boss of level 3 since it wasn't working.

Video not mine but link is there.

Illbleed Lumberjack (youtube.com)

Zable would probably would give Nick this weird Meanies headless duck plush this character randomly found.

I wonder how he would react to that?

Images not mine but the plush is mature and link is there.

Meanies Series 2 Donnie Didn't Duck Bean Bag Plush | eBay

Nicknames Zable Fable would give Nick.

Fanboy, Stitch, Mr. Woodcutter, Axe Master, Soul Calibur, Rhino Guy, Meme Man, Superfan, Big Man, Mystery Guy, Reala, Big Smiley Nerd, Laughing Man, Shy Guy, Monster Mash, Error Code Man, and Mr. Noms.

#MonsterxMediator #NauseAxe_404 #Nick #If Nick Was A Illbleed Level #My Thoughts

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