#this is the good shit this is what i need i need more fucking transformers animatics
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Why the fuck are people on Twitter upset about nonbinary robots. Transformers are aliens, why would they follow another species gender binary based on reproduction when they don't even reproduce sexually. If anything, ALL the robots should use they/them.
#liz blogs#transformers#i need to finish earthspark#conservatives won't survive when aliens come to earth#imagine going to another planet and trying to translate pronouns#but either theres more than two or theyre not based on reproduction#how do you figure out if youre a glerp or a blongo or a dee when you dont even have a yundle#and guess what else. if the robots all have one gender. and they use different Earth Pronouns#that dont line up with - in conservative terms - the pronouns they Should have#guess what. all the robots are trans now.#this is probably fucking incoherent i just woke up but man i hate when people think the universe revolves around humans#smash the gender binary to pieces#i write this from an angle to shit on their stupid argument i know nonbinary people can use gendered pronouns as well#the point is its hard to translate. frankly we also deserve big macho bots picking she her because it sounds nice#and little femmebots picking he him because it sounds cool and they want to seem Tough in earth terms#hasbro hire me i love robots and I'll write a transformers show so good it'll make conservatives literally explode
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sometimes i see posts where i think That Doesn't Sound Right But I Don't Know Enough About Neurobiology to Dispute It
#my understanding of dopamine and serotonin deficiencies is that they tend to be issues of uptake rather than production#like generally if you eat enough casein rich foods you should be good. your brain will manufacture a pretty sizeable amount#but from what i've gathered#the problem is that it will generally USE and transform those chemicals at a rate that fucks you over#so ssris and stimulants for adhd tell your brain HEY JACKASS WE NEED THESE#or more specifically they bind to the places that would usually be grabbing your dopamine and serotonin and doing shit with em#again. big grain of salt here. i'm not a pharmacist or a neurologist or psych#just a nosy and neurotic creature that reads papers on everything i have ever been prescribed. due to my brain problems.
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my arm hurty and my nose pressy but almost $2k later my tattoo is finished teehee :3
#Ravage.txt#dl#i’ve been wanting this specific one for a good 3-4 years now so it’s bizarre to me that it’s. done. it’s all finished. i have it now#cant wait for the saniderm to come off i hope the yellow looks good on my skin tone 🙏🙏 highkey bled a lot right below my collarbone (and#that’s just what i noticed when i wasn’t reading fanfic) so it was really hard to see how the bit of color looked with the ever-present#ketchup and mustard (ink smear) combo. fingers fucking crossed it looks good bc that was three hours and i approved the bottle lmao#in my defense it looked good!!! great even!!! god i hope i don’t need to get it touched up/redone in the end ugh even more money#oh em gee this tag is so fitting when i typed ‘anyway’#anyway bye i’m missing my favorite scene (blackout absolutely wrecking a base’s shit)#<- like yes i AM missing my favorite scene. granted it’s on purpose bc i’m going to bed i’m too tired to finish the movie but STILL#blowing a kiss to my action figure of blackout on my desk love u king one day i’ll get a copy so u can be in both modes at once#i haven’t even tried to transform him or megs bc i threw out the instructions for one on accident and lost the other </3 + they were expensy#af. and i like them in robot mode they’re so cool i’m so glad dad got me into collecting. i need r.otf a.rcee and 2007 b.arricade now frfr#i found them already but it’s like 30 or 40 bucks plus whatever shipping is and i both spent $500 on my tat today AND i’m saving for art#comms so like :/ blegh. BUT two weeks from now i may get a brief housesitting gig which will hopefully pay pretty well considering the labor#so who knows maybe i’ll get them! i love 2007 b.arricade honestly it’d be great to have him. and a.rcee is easily one of my favs as my#collection demonstrates (ULTIMATE fav is r.ipclaw). anyway night night my allergy med is working slightly so i’ll be able to actually sleep
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Hey Natalia, hope you’re doing good ❤️ Please could I request enemies to lovers with Max. You’re constantly at each other’s throats in front of everyone and Christian has had enough of your shit and demands to see you in the office. But when you continue to fight, he’s like nah I don’t wanna be involved, sort your shit out together and leaves. And you end up fucking on his desk and after you’re suddenly super friendly around eachother. Thank you lovely! xxx
Whiplash
Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader
Summary: You and Max discover that there is a thin line between lust and hate
Warnings: 18+ content
You storm into Christian’s office, scowling as Max follows right behind you. He slams the door shut and you both take a seat across from Christian, refusing to even look at each other.
“I’m sure you both know why I called you in here,” Christian says sternly. “The tension between you two has gone too far. It’s affecting the team and we can’t have that.”
You scoff and cross your arms. “Why don’t you talk to him about it then? I’m not the problem here.”
Max scowls. “Oh please, don’t pretend like you’re so innocent. You’ve been nothing but hostile towards me since the start of the season.”
“Only because you did the same!” You retort. “I was nothing but nice when I first joined the team. You’re the one with the attitude problem.”
“Enough!” Christian shouts, silencing you both. “I don’t care who started it. I’m ending it. We’re in the middle of a championship fight and I need my drivers to work together, not against each other.”
You sink lower in your chair, still refusing to look at Max. The animosity radiates off of him in waves.
“Now you’re going to stay in here until you work this out,” Christian says firmly. “I don’t care if it takes all night. Fix this mess or both of your seats are on the line.”
He heads for the door and you spring up from your chair. “You can’t be serious!”
“Deadly,” Christian replies before shutting the door. You hear the lock click into place from the outside.
You jiggle the handle and pound on the door. “Let us out!”
No response.
He’s really done it, that bastard. Locked you in a room alone with your most hated rival.
You take a deep breath before turning around. Max sits there glaring at you, jaw clenched. “This is ridiculous,” he mutters.
“For once we agree on something,” you snap.
His glare hardens. “Don’t pretend you’re blameless. You’ve been nasty since you got here.”
You storm over to him. “Because you decided to hate me from day one! I tried to be nice but you were so damn hostile. What’s your problem with me anyway?”
Max stands up abruptly, getting in your face. “My problem is you waltzing in here like you own the place when I’m the number one driver.”
You shove him in the chest. “Get over yourself! I earned my spot here.”
He shoves you back. “You don’t deserve to be here.”
Your blood boils as you stare him down. God he’s infuriating. And stubborn as hell. You doubt you’ll ever get him to admit any fault in this situation.
“Well I’m not going anywhere so I guess you’ll just have to get used to it,” you snap.
Max steps even closer, eyes blazing. Your noses nearly touch from how close he stands. “Is that so?” His voice comes out low, almost husky.
A shiver runs down your spine but you keep glaring at him. “Yeah, that’s so.”
You expect him to shoot back some nasty retort. Instead his eyes flick down to your lips for just a moment before meeting your heated gaze again.
Suddenly the energy shifts between you. The anger and tension remains but it transforms into something more primal. More dangerous.
Your breaths come heavier as electricity crackles in the nonexistent space left between you. Max’s pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and falling as rapidly as your own.
“I ...” Your voice comes out hoarse. “We should ...”
But neither of you make any move to step away. Without thinking your tongue darts out to wet your dry lips. Max tracks the movement with his intense stare.
“Fuck it,” he growls before crashing his mouth onto yours.
You gasp into the kiss and he takes advantage, deepening it. His hands grasp your hips roughly as he walks you backwards until your back hits the wall.
You barely process what’s happening. One second you were at each other’s throats, the next his body is pressing urgently against yours.
A moan escapes you when his lips move to your neck. He nips at the sensitive skin there and you thread your fingers into his hair.
“This is insane,” you pant out even as you tug him closer.
“I know,” Max breathes against your neck. His hands skim up your sides, pushing up your shirt. “I hate you.”
“I hate you more.” You crash your lips together again, tasting blood when you nip at him.
Max groans into your mouth as your tongues slide together. He hitches one of your legs around his hip, grinding against you.
You break the kiss to tip your head back, moaning at the feeling. Fuck, you despise this man, but right now you need him more than anything.
His hips keep up that delicious friction as he mouths at your collarbone. “I’m still going to beat you,” he rasps out.
You smirk, nails digging into his shoulders. “In your dreams.”
Max’s eyes darken at your taunt. Without warning, he grips your thighs and lifts you onto Christian’s desk. You gasp as he pushes between your legs, his growing arousal obvious.
“Careful what you wish for,” he murmurs before crushing his mouth to yours once more.
You moan into the frenzied kiss, tongues tangling as you tug at his hair. His hands slide up your thighs, fumbling with the button of your jeans to push them down around your ankles. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him against your heated core.
Even through the layers of clothing you can feel how hard he is. You rock your hips, desperate for more friction. Max groans and moves his lips to your neck, nipping down to your collarbone.
Your head tips back as his fingers dance up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts. “God, I hate you so much,” you moan.
“I know.” His voice comes out rough, filled with lust.
Impatient, you reach for the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, tossing it aside. Your eyes rake over his muscular chest and arms. Unable to resist, you lean in and scrape your teeth over his nipple.
Max hisses in a breath, hands clenching on your hips. “Fuck ...”
You grin, laving your tongue over the sensitive nub as your fingers move to his belt buckle. With shaky hands you get it open and reach into his boxers, fingers wrapping around his thick length.
He shudders against you. “Shit, Y/N ...”
You stroke him firmly, reveling in the moans and curses falling from his lips. His own hands move under your shirt, palming your breasts through your bra.
It’s not enough. You strip off your shirt and reach back to unclasp your bra. Max wastes no time dipping his head to capture one of your nipples between his lips.
“Oh god ...” you gasp, back arching into him. His teeth and tongue work over your sensitive peaks until you’re writhing beneath him.
The sound of voices outside the door makes you both freeze. Fuck. The race weekend is still going on around you. Anyone could walk by and hear what’s happening.
You meet Max’s heated gaze. “We should stop,” you pant out half-heartedly.
His eyes blaze with defiance and lust. “No fucking way.”
Before you can react he drops to his knees, grasping your hips to pull you towards the edge of the desk.
Max tugs strongly on your lacy underwear until it gives way at the seams, baring you to him. He pauses to appreciate the view, eyes roaming hungrily over your glistening folds.
“I’m still going to beat you tomorrow,” he rasps.
You tug on his hair impatiently. “Just get on with it before we get caught.”
With a wicked grin he dives in, mouth latching onto your throbbing clit. You cry out, quickly slapping a hand over your own mouth.
You fumble with his belt, desperate to feel him. Max groans as you wrap your hand around his length.
“Fuck, just like that,” he groans against your skin, increasing the rhythm of his tongue in response. The desk rocks dangerously beneath you but neither of you slow your ministrations.
You whimper his name, pleasure building steadily under his expert touch. The fingers of one hand twist in his hair while you keep your other hand moving up and down in measured strokes as you near the edge.
“Look at me,” Max commands raggedly. You open your eyes to meet his wild gaze. The connection between you crackles.
“Max ...” you gasp as your climax crashes over you. You slap a hand over your lips, muffling your cries.
As you float back down, Max withdraws his mouth. You keen at the loss but then he’s lining himself up at your entrance. Gripping your hip tightly, he pushes inside in one smooth motion.
You cling to his shoulders, nails digging in as you adjust around him. Max trembles with restraint, giving you a moment before he starts to move.
Then he sets a relentless pace, the desk slamming against the wall with each powerful snap of his hips. You wrap your legs around him, spurring him even deeper.
Max pounds into you relentlessly, wrenching desperate moans from your lips. You’re vaguely aware of picture frames and papers tumbling to the floor around you but the chaos only adds to the thrill.
You’re close, the pressure building deep inside. With a few more well-angled thrusts you topple over the edge, coming hard around him. Your breasts bounce as your back arches sharply off the desk.
“There you go, princess,” Max rasps. He continues driving into your spasming center until his rhythm turns choppy and erratic.
“Fuck, I’m close,” Max grits out. You clench around him, greedy for his release. His hips stutter and then he spills inside you with a guttural groan. The sensation pushes you over the edge again, your vision whiting out from the intensity.
Breathing raggedly, Max collapses on top of you, pinning you to the desk. You’re both slick with sweat and utterly spent, your heart rates slowly returning to normal. You run your fingers through his damp waves soothingly.
The room is silent save for your heavy breathing. As the haze of lust clears, the ramifications of what just happened settle over you.
You just slept with your sworn rival on your team principal’s desk.
After a long moment Max pulls out of you and steps back, tucking himself away. On shaky legs you slide off the desk, stumbling slightly as you find your feet, and rush to put on your clothes.
Max grabs his shirt off the floor and shrugs back into it. His hair is mussed wildly and his lips are kiss-swollen. You’re sure you look much the same.
You and Max spring apart at the sound of the lock clicking open. Christian strides back into his office, oblivious to the disheveled state that both of his drivers are in.
“Well, have you two worked out your differences?” He looks between you expectantly.
You smooth down your rumpled shirt and attempt to tuck your wild hair back into place. Your cheeks flame as you meet Christian’s gaze.
“I think we’ve come to an ... understanding,” Max says evenly, though you notice a hint of color in his cheeks as well.
Christian surveys his office, taking in the askew trophies and books scattered across the floor. You hold your breath, certain he’s going to put two and two together.
“It seems you had a disagreement about reorganizing my office during your chat,” Christian says wryly.
You nearly choke in surprise. Does he really not realize what just transpired on his desk? You chance a glance at Max and have to suppress a hysterical giggle at the disbelief on his face.
“I apologize for the mess, we got a bit ... heated,” you say, biting your lip to keep from laughing at the double meaning.
“Yes, clearly things escalated between you two.” Christian frowns at a photo of him and Dietrich Mateschitz now lying cracked on the floor. You resist the urge to shrink under his disappointed dad stare.
“However, the important thing is you’ve worked through this animosity once and for all, correct?” He looks between you expectantly.
You and Max nod in unison. “Water under the bridge,” Max assures him. You’re impressed by how steady he manages to keep his voice even as you can see the barely contained mirth dancing in his eyes.
“Excellent. I’ll inform the team that tensions are resolved and they can stop walking on eggshells around the both of you.” Christian claps his hands together, apparently satisfied. “Now get out of here and get ready for free practice.”
You and Max don’t need telling twice. As soon as the door shuts behind you, the laughter you’ve been holding in bubbles out.
“I can’t believe he actually bought that,” Max says between chuckles.
“We literally destroyed his office and he thinks we just had a minor spat,” you giggle, shaking your head incredulously.
Your laughter trails off as the reality of what happened sinks in. You just had crazy hot sex with Max Verstappen. Where do you go from here?
Before you can overthink it, Max presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Meet me at the hotel tonight? We should continue this conversation somewhere more private,” he murmurs suggestively.
You bite your lip but find yourself nodding. As complicated and ill-advised as this may be, you can’t find it in yourself to deny your attraction to Max now that you’ve given in to it.
“It’s a date,” you whisper back.
Max grins and steals another quick kiss before you part ways to get changed.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#max verstappen#mv1#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#max verstappen x female reader#max verstappen x y/n#red bull racing#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen drabble
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Discovery
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem reader
Genre: smut, friends to lovers, established relationship
Warnings: kissing, groping, dry humping, oral (m. receiving, f. implied), dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics but they’re both actually switches (Mingyu is a service top), multiple orgasms (m. receiving), cumshot, mentions of butt stuff, Mingyu is obsessed with titties, pearl necklace, spitting, cum eating (kinda), minor hair pulling, praise kink and strength kink go burrrrrr, Mingyu is a simp that loves his gf, his gf is a gremlin though he does threaten to lock her in a closet at one point but he kinda has point, they’re both horny that’s all I can say
Length: ~2.5k
Note: not a direct part 2 of Drunk Goggles ! but same couple set a few months in the future :) they’re in love and obsessed with each other. If there are any spelling errors ignore them, I don’t respect the English language <3
MDNI! if I look at your blog and there isn’t an age indicator you’ll be blocked
read more here
“Permission to be horny?” Mingyu mutters, lips still connected to the spot on your neck he likes to claim whenever granted the opportunity.
“Hmmmm,” You pretend to think. “I’ll allow it.”
“I really, really, really want to fuck you.” He punctuates his statement by trailing his hands down to your ass, palming the plush flesh and pulling you down harder on his clothed cock.
“I’ll definitely allow that.” You sigh, hand twisting in the short locks of hair on your boyfriend’s head.
His hips cant against yours when you arch into him, pulling the seam of your jeans just right against your clit. Mingyu is good at this. He’s good at most things, but sex is something he excels at; especially when it comes to sex with you.
You’ve never had a partner so open about their desires. Mingyu has no shame, bursting at the seams to let you know how much he wants you, needs you in moments like these. His forwardness makes you blush like a schoolgirl with a crush, and it certainly doesn’t help that he looks like that.
But as hot and sexy as your man is, he is still an incredibly huge klutz. You realize you’re falling off the couch before he does, mostly due to the fact Mingyu is planted firmly below you with his face buried in your chest. His obsession with your boobs is almost comical (and has gotten you out of more spats than you can count when you flash him in the heat of an argument) but it shuts down his brain.
“Oh shit!” You squeal, tumbling to the plush carpet. Nothing bruised except your dignity.
“What the fuck?” Mingyu calls after you, confused to find cool air rushing in where the heat of your body occupied.
All you can do is laugh, eyes covered by the crook of your elbow. You don’t see the way your boyfriend looks at you with love filling his eyes (and his dick). Or the way your chest shakes as you laugh, causing your tits to bounce with the sound of your cackling.
Your laughter dies in your throat, transforming into a hum when you feel Mingyu’s body cover your own, picking up right where he left off by taking your left nipple in his mouth, torturing the flesh with his tongue and teeth.
“Fuck, babe.” You whine pathetically. Hands moving to the waistband of his pants, fisting the material in an effort to get him naked.
His hips are cradled between your thighs, his erection hot and hard in his pants. When you plant your feet on the ground and grind against him, Mingyu sucks harder and uses a free hand to snare your wrists and trap them above your head.
“Be good.” He warns. Mingyu's attempt at domination falls flat because you know the only promise on the other side of it is that he’ll cream his pants before he gets his fill of you.
“I can be really good if you let me go.” You whisper, pushing your chest up into his face.
“Yeah?” He questions hopefully, unable to help that he’s a sucker for everything you do.
“Mhmm, want you in my mouth Gyu.”
Mingyu doesn’t respond sans the slow grind of his hips against your core, letting you feel all of him. He detaches from your nipple to bite across your chest once more, the echo of burning kisses left in his wake.
“Please, baby.” You press. “Wanna taste you.”
He might be the man of your dreams but Mingyu is still a guy. So when a beautiful woman (you) begs to suck him off, who is he to deny that experience? It’s a selfless act of him really.
Mingyu slides off you, giving you room to prop yourself up. You take him in. His hair is wild from your pulling, short tufts pointing every which way. His naked chest is flushed and heaving like your own. When your eyes trail south, his abs clench under your heated gaze. It's impossible to ignore how the movement makes his dick bob in his sweatpants, leaving nothing to the imagination.
“Sit on the couch.” You demand when your eyes meet again.
Having you boss him around gets Mingyu hotter than he’ll admit (to anyone except you). He knows most people assume he’s the one who calls the shots in the bedroom; Seungcheol had cracked one too many jokes about it for him to be unaware. And occasionally Mingyu does, twisting you into whatever position is stuck in his head or telling you to touch yourself while he watches from the end of the bed and jerks off. The glint in your eye when he bends you over the kitchen counter to stuff you with his cock tells him you like it too. But the second you command him to do anything, Mingyu folds like a house of cards.
You’re not unaware of how much he likes it but it leaves you in awe every time he scrambles to do what you say. Right now, he’s tripping out of his pants and underwear as he hops on to the cushions. You thank whatever powers may be that you don’t have a roommate to consider when fucking your ridiculously hot boyfriend on every surface of the apartment (especially when Mingyu’s attempt at fucking you in the bathroom ended with cum on the mirror on several occasions but thats a story for another time).
The hand circling your jaw distracts from your goal as mouths meet. Mingyu is bent over at the waist above you, tongue tracing hotly against your lower lip. You subtly push him back into the plush upholstery, propping yourself up on your knees, hands gripping his thighs to press further into his space. With Mingyu distracted, you let one of your hands drop to circle the scorching rigid flesh at the base of his cock.
“Fuuuu–ck,” he groans into your mouth but doesn’t breakaway. As much as he wants your mouth on his dick, Mingyu really does love kissing you. Probably because he spent months thinking about it and now he actually gets to do it as much as he wants.
“Yeah?” You echo his previous words. When your thumb traces the leaking tip to spread his pre-cum he moans again.
“Yeah.” he mumbles, nodding his head in affirmation.
When you’re finally able to pull away from his lips without protest in the form of him chasing you, you descend to mouth down his neck and chest. Your boyfriend is all hot skin and taunt muscle under your ministrations, shaking breath causing his chest to lurch when your teeth scrap his nipple. Your breasts brush purposely against Mingyu’s cock as you sink lower, his head goes fuzzy and tips back. The soft pass of skin plants ideas in his head about the day you’ll let him cum on your chest. You’re already enthusiastic when he comes on the swell of your ass or in your mouth. But the visual of you covered in his spunk, chin and nipples glistening white and skin flushed flashes in his vision. Mingyu opens his eyes and starts tracing patterns across the ceiling in hopes it prevents him from making it a premature reality.
You're not much better off. The contrast of his rigid length against the soft flesh of your chest has arousal gushing from your cunt. The thought of Mingyu finishing on your skin always makes you wet. Something about your incredibly sweet and polite boyfriend being incredibly filthy with you makes your chest heave. The first time he came on your ass you had him fuck you again while it cooled between your cheeks. It was also the first time Mingyu played with that hole, found out cum and spit made decent lube, and how you cum insanely hard if he thumbs the taunt ring of muscle while he fucks you stupid on his cock.
If you had lube you’d entertain the idea of letting him fuck your tits but you know the chaff without it isn’t worth it for either of you. Instead, you let the tip of your tongue trace the bulbous head of his cock, the tang flooding your taste buds. You’re doing nothing more than teasing him but the way he’s leaking against your tongue tells you he loves it.
When you back away just enough to spit on it, a rush of breath leaves his nose as your saliva dribbles across his frenulum and you smirk. Mingyu is so fucking easy.
Since the first time you two fooled around, you’ve discovered all the ways to get him whiny and desperate, memorizing his favorites with impressive speed. Mingyu likes it wet and messy, spit and cum glossing your lips and chin, dripping in his lap to pool at the base of his dick. He prefers when you use your mouth to focus on the head of his cock, but he’ll never complain if you use a hand to jerk him off in tandem. When you’re going to play with his balls, he moans when you fondle and whimpers when you give a gentle squeeze. If you meet his eye when your lips are stretched around his cock, he’ll blush like a virgin who hasn’t fucked you six ways from Sunday. And if you let Mingyu cum in your mouth, he’ll go down on you till you're shaking and he’s hard enough to fuck you right.
Tonight you try your best to give him a top notch performance. It helps that every detail about having Mingyu like this gets you hot in the best ways. Enjoying giving as much as he enjoys receiving. Having him wrapped around your finger makes you whine along with him, sharing in his pleasure like it’s your own.
The vibrations from your soft moans and whimpers do nothing except stretching Mingyu’s resolve thinner and thinner. Tangling his hands in your hair, he gently guides you back and forth, mostly taking the strain off your neck rather than enforcing your rhythm. The tug against your scalp satisfies you all the same.
“Fuck, baby,” he cries. “So good, fuck. So fucking good.”
A harsh suck causes his dick to exit your mouth with a lewd pop before it smacks against his tummy. Mingyu is quick to grab his cock, fisting himself before tapping against your lips for re-entry. You just stare from under your lashes, eyes wet from the prodding against the back your throat, only allowing gentle kisses to the soaking flesh.
“Open your mouth.” His words may seem dominant, but the whiny tone betrays his desperation.
You continue to sit there, allowing your nails to dig into the skin of his thighs, mixing a volatile cocktail of pain and pleasure. When his other hand unravels from your hair to pry your jaw open with his thumb, you can’t help the whimper you release in response to his manhandling as he forces his cock back between your lips.
“Gonna cum?” Your question is garbled from the way he stuffs your mouth full but Mingyu puts two and two together with his limited brain capacity.
“Wanna cum in your mouth,” he begs. “Please, baby.”
When your eyes flutter shut, Mingyu knows he has permission to do what he does best. He starts fucking your mouth in earnest, soaking in the sounds of you gagging and choking around his cock as practically humps your face. If you want his come he’ll give it to you in spades, he’ll drain himself until he’s on the verge of passing out if that’s what’ll make you happy.
It only takes a minute before you feel him twitch against your lips and the hot rush coats your tongue, dripping down your throat as you swallow around him. Mingyu’s hips buck up as he gives you his load, cum seeping out of the corners of your mouth and down your face just the way he loves. You pull away just enough that some of the spray hits your chin and leaks down onto his shaft allowing you to continue to jerk him off as he sings you praises.
In your opinion, the best part about Mingyu is if you keep sucking after he comes, he’ll come again.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” he bites. Mingyu loves you (not that he’s told you) but when you do this he thinks he might have to take away your dick privileges.
You pop your mouth off his cock but your hand doesn’t stop. Thumb swiping at the pearly slit right below your mouth, pushing the remains of his release across the spongy head.
“What baby?” Your brow is furrowed in mock concern, like you have no idea the torture you’re inflicting. “Just want you to cum.”
You’re evil. Pure evil sent from a past life to punish him.
“I have!” He winces. He grips the couch cushions for dear life as stars cloud the edges of his vision.
“But I want you to cum again. Don’t you wanna give me it?”
He can’t breathe.
“Please, Gyu? For me?”
You’re playing him like a damn fool.
“Just wanna feel you to cum on my tits, baby. Please!” You cry.
He’s drowning.
Mingyu’s second orgasm is less dramatic than his first. He’s writhing and shaking from the sensory overload, ass leaving the couch as his hips jerk wildly. His cum is more of a dribble than the sizable spurts you’re accustomed to but you take what he gives you with glee. You jerk him off over your chest, allowing him to paint your skin in white streaks, redden tip rubbing against the puckered flesh of your nipples to get every drop. Mingyu can barely keep his eyes open to enjoy the way you cover yourself in him, how you claim yourself as his in such a primal way.
It’s the gleam in your eyes as you pant below him, nearly drooling at the mess you’ve made that has him giving you one last sputter to trickle between your breast down to your navel.
When you go to mouth at his balls, Mingyu grabs a fist of your hair in reflex to keep himself out of your reach. He gently tugs until you slide your eyes away from his softening dick to his face.
“I will lock you in a closet if you try that again.”
Mingyu knows he sounds ridiculous but you’re insatiable and might actually kill him if you try to touch his dick again.
“You’re no fun.” You pout, unable to hide you’re disappointment when Mingyu refuses to let you play with him.
“Get your ass on this couch and I’ll show you how fun I am.”
Tonight, Mingyu discovers you really like when he collects his cum off your chest with his tongue and spits it in your mouth. You like it even more when he holds you down, pins your wrists at the dip of your spine, and eats it from the back like his life depends on it.
#svt x reader#svthub#kim mingyu x reader#mingyu smut#kim mingyu#svt smut#seventeen smut#kim mingyu smut#🫡 highvern#svt#dghe couple
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The more I think about season 2, the more grateful I am.
In a lot of ways, OFMD's writers, cast, and crew were given an almost impossible task. S1 was brilliant and took everyone by surprise by how successful it became. I am still shocked every time I rewatch by how smart and efficient the writing is, how intelligent the social commentary. S1 is a masterclass in good television.
And for s2, expectations were incredibly high. OFMD found massive word-of-mouth success in a way I've never seen with any other show, and they suddenly had a big, incredibly passionate audience - the renewal was because of massive fan support, and that must have translated to an incredible amount of pressure in the writer's room. Plus, as if that wasn't enough on its own, they're having to deal with budget cuts and Max slashing them down to only 8 episodes to tell a 10-episode story. This is an incredibly daunting task.
And yeah, I've been critical. OFMD is my favorite show, no contest, and it's easy to be critical of the things we love. We can all see that the pacing was off this season, especially in those last two episodes. Some arcs felt rushed; some side characters didn't get enough screen time to set up what they're doing this season. Jim and Olu especially suffer for that. It's inexcusable that this show's budget was slashed the way it was and I'm sad for what we could have had.
But, on the whole? Holy shit, this season was incredibly successful! Despite an incredible amount of fan pressure, the writers told the story they wanted to tell. They never lost sight of Ed and Stede's story, and were smart about allocating screen time so our leads' arcs never suffered too much for it. There's so much creative problem solving - when they realized they'd need to be smart about which side characters to keep on screen, they turned Buttons into a bird in a way that underscored season themes of transformation and change. 10/10, no notes. They even remembered their audience and left us on a satisfying note for all our characters - we get to end with Ed and Stede, happy and together, starting their new life.
They had an impossible task and they did a fucking commendable job. Character beats and humor are balanced amazingly well. Ed and Stede feel so much more fleshed out this season. Just like in s1, OFMD will never be a show where you can catch everything with one watch - there's so many little jokes, hidden gags, small details to discover with every rewatch. And every single actor is giving it their all in every scene! You can tell how much this show was a labor of love for everyone involved.
I'm proper fucking impressed. Here's hoping they get a renewal and a better budget for season 3!
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Right to fear, wrong to believe
Just had a horrible realization and needed to meta it out.
How different they were before Edinburgh, when Crowley was sucked down into Hell.
Look at this flirty babygirl in the Bastille:
I mean could he climb that tree any faster?
(This is why I really like fics that place a more physical relationship here, pre-Bastille or just post-Bastille, because c'mon look at them. )
In S1 the next thing is 1862 and Crowley asking for insurance (with a cane ffs). And Aziraphale freaking out with his "fraternizing" BS. It's jarring, until we get 1827 filled in for us in S2.
@takeme-totheworld notes in this post:
Crowley sure went from "our respective head offices don't actually care how things get done" and "nobody ever has to know" to "walls have ears" FAST after Edinburgh. And Aziraphale went from looking at Crowley with hearts in his eyes to "I've been FrAtErNiZiNg" just as quickly.
I'm more convinced than ever that Edinburgh was the first time Crowley ever actually got caught and punished for fucking around with Aziraphale/doing good deeds/whatever it was they yanked him back down to Hell for, and it scared the absolute shit out of both of them and changed the whole tone of their relationship after that.
Yes! - it's clear to me as well that the Edinburgh graveyard was a very bad turning point, where they both saw that Hell was listening and would intervene. And it did change their relationship drastically, for over a century and a half (really, until looming Armageddon loosened up the stakes for them).
But what about Heaven?
See the thing is, we know Azi's been worried about Heaven watching him for the past 6000 years.
But they haven't.
[GIFs posted by starrose17]
All this time, and Heaven had not seen them together. Hadn't noticed. Had not even LOOKED.
I want to mention what @starrose17 says about this here in this post:
What I love about this is her choice of words, “went back through the Earth Observation files.” This implies that these photos were already filed somewhere meaning somebody had to have been watching them which meant somewhere in the depths of the bureaucratic heaven there’s an underpaid angel clerk tasked with watching angels on Earth, and he’s been hording photos of his favourite Angel/Demon couple not reporting them to Michael because he wants to see what happens.
And that's exactly what this fic covers!: Spying Omens by @ednav
(Give this a read, it's fabulous.)
While I am here for this being exactly how that happens, the other scenario is colder and worse - there's no one watching, at all. It's just filing automatically and never seen until some Scrivener is called to pull a file.
From @fuckyeahisawthatat's comment here :
I found this scene to be quite chilling, actually. Not only is the idea of Heaven as a surveillance state brilliant (way to make “God is always watching” sound way more ominous) but this is exactly how modern surveillance states work.
They don’t actively watch everybody all the time. That’s not physically possible for humans, and even if it is metaphysically possible for Heaven, it’s not a very efficient use of resources. Surveillance states watch people they deem “suspicious.” And once you’ve been put in the category of “suspicious,” they have massive amounts of data that they can comb through to collect a lot of information about you–to retroactively build a case justifying why you’re suspicious, to collect information about where you go and who you associate with, etc.
Yes.
So we either have secret collusion in the rank and file, or we have a surveillance state that is constantly reinforced to its subjects for fear's sake, for control.
(Well, it obviously could be both.)
BUT my point is… Up until Edinburgh, Hell has not been watching (or caring at least). And up until near the end of Armageddon't, neither has Heaven.
Oh, my poor Angel. Thousands of years, of denying yourself, of pushing Crowley away, of carrying around a tension that is it's own constellation.
After 1827 you might have reason, but for the 5000+ years before that?
Thousands of years and Heaven was not watching nor cared.
You were right to fear. And you were wrong to believe.
And that just breaks my heart.
#okay gonna go reread Spying Omens again because that's my headcanon now#I hope Azi tears out the Earth Observation cams or servers or whatever it is#where's Murderbot when you need a good hack#good omens meta#aziracrow#ineffable husbands#good omens
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i know you are a stargirl / billy loomis
PAIRING billy loomis x fem!reader
SUMMARY billy spends the entire next day teasing you, watching you with those kind of eyes. he finds a way to apologize to you, by giving you exactly what you need: pleasure and relief. part 1.
TAGS billy loomis x fem!reader, smut, dom!billy, sub!reader, dacryphilia, cunniligus, cum eating, billy likes to order you around, body worship, slight angst, if you squint, billy becomes soft!dom billy halfway through, originally planning on making some kinky shit but suddenly this transforms into soft smut???, whatever we ball
QUOTE "i shouldn't cry, but i love it, starboy," - stargirl interlude by the weeknd, feat. lana del rey
WORD COUNT 2.8K
WRITTEN 11.24.2023
A/N i'm gone 😵🥴 anyways, first REAL smut, hope you like it anon 🤭🤭 17+
You knew he was teasing you - you knew. All he had done the entire fucking day was stare at you with those hungry, brown eyes as though he were devouring you with them. It was hard not to steal glances his way and it was hard to pretend as though you weren't. Even when he picked you up before school, he just had to massage your thigh the entire car ride.
After your last class of the day, he met you by your locker. Of course, he acted all gentleman-like and pretended as though he hadn't been eye-fucking you all day. He carried your bag for you as you both made your way towards his car. He opened and closed the door for you, gently placing the book bag near your feet.
"How was your day?" He asked as he started the car, backing out of the parking space. His hand was thrown around the front seat, his fingers tickling your neck. You hated the sound of his voice - so smooth and sultry, so captivating. You had to press your legs together and look out the window to keep yourself distracted.
"It was good," you responded without any elaboration. He put the car back into drive and soon enough, you were out of the school parking lot and on the high road. It takes you a minute to realize that he was going in the wrong direction - he had to take a left out of the parking lot to get back to your place, not a right. "Billy, you're going the wrong way. My house is back there." You pointed back where you came from.
"We're not going to your place," he responded, twisting the dial on his sound system. Rock blared through the speakers, but he quickly turned it down to a much more tolerable level. "Sorry, Stu's station . . . no, we're going to my place."
His place? Your obvious shock could be seen on your face, judging by the way Billy laughed. "Yeah, Dad's out of town. We've got the whole place to ourselves." A blush painted your face a sweet cherry red. Billy had never brought you round his place, for good reason. He and his father had a rather complicated relationship . . . a difficult home life. You would say he had never taken you over out of embarrassment, shame, or some sort of protectiveness but you always couldn't help but feel as though he didn't trust you to come over. No one but you and Stu knew even the smallest inklings of Billy's personal life. He had always been rather reserved and again, he had a reputation to uphold.
But now? Knowing that he trusted you enough to bring you round? That he was finally putting in some godamned effort into your relationship? You felt more turned on then before.
It took you a moment to realize that he had called your name quite a few times. "What do you think?" He asked. His demeanor seemed nonchalant, but there was that undertone of nervousness in his voice.
You finally turned back towards him - his eyes turned away from the road, just for a moment, to look at you. You bit your bottom lip, a smile growing on your face. It was infectious, spreading to Billy as well. "Sounds good," you responded with a nod.
The rest of the car ride was silent. It wasn't awkward, it wasn't weird. Often, you two found yourselves in a comfortable sort of quiet, one where you appreciate the other's prescene. You watched great big houses and fields of grass fly past your window - Billy still had his arm swung around you from before. You leaned your cheek into his hand, smiling.
When you had gotten to his house, you had to do a double take. You weren't sure what you were expecting, but it was a house just like Stu's. Great and big and beautiful, with a blossoming garden and a freshly mown lawn. He opened the door to his house for you and you entered, slipping off your shoes and placing your bag on a stool by the coat hanger.
"Home sweet home," Billy said, in a tone half-sarcastic. He placed his shoes neatly next to yours and encouraged you to let loose, follow him inside. "Do you want a drink? Something to eat?"
You walked together down a hall and into a spacious, rustic kitchen. "No, I'm not very hungry . . ." You weren't sure what else to say - Billy hadn't opted to fill the silence either. And here was the other side of the flip coin. The tense silence. A quiet that haunts you during the day, one where you both know exactly what you want, except . . . he does nothing.
Billy leans against the marble countertop of the island and you stop in front of him, unsure of what to do or say. He watches you intently, waiting for you to speak.
"Your house is, uh . . . really beautiful," you said, in an attempt to make conversation. He stands there and says nothing. "I'm glad you invited me over." The silence finally gets to you. "Are you gonna say something?"
He pushes himself off the counter and placed his hands on your waist. "I'm glad I invited you over too, sweetheart." The way he talks, the way he moves, it's like he knows exactly what he's doing to you. It's like he's trying to get you antsy and desperate. All right, well if that's the game he wants to play then two can tango.
You smile innocently at him, leaning forward to press a not-so-chaste kiss to his cheek. When you pull away, your lips linger not a centimeter from his skin. Your breath is hot and heavy and your eyes flicker towards his. "I think I'm starting to get hungry now," you whisper softly, pulling away from him. You slip easily out of his loosened grip on your waist and make your way over to the fridge. "Anything good in here?" You ask, leaning in as though scanning the inventory.
"Unless you want a ketchup, mustard, and pickle sandwich, I'm afraid we're just going to have to order in." You tried to keep your breathing steady as he hovers close behind you, too close. Slowly, you close the door and turn around to face him. He bows your head to look down at you, and you feel much more like the prey to his predator rather than the key to his heart.
You want control of the situation. "So, what should we do? Watch a movie or-"
You don't have enough time to finish before he plants a hand on the refrigerator door beside you. Internally, you smirk - he had been trying to get you worked up, yet now you've done exactly that to him. "I didn't invite you over to watch a movie," he whispered. The air of tension grew so thick, it was like a snake that wrapped around your throat and kept you in a chokehold. "And I think you know that."
A smirk grew on his face as your innocent expression fell - well shit. He brings up his hand and trails his index finger down your cheek, along the vein of your neck, and down your side. You shiver with anticipation and squeeze your thighs together, none of which escapes his notice. "Don't think I don't see you, pretty girl, I see you."
"Billy . . ."
"Remember what I told you last night?" You felt a rush of heat in your cheeks. "Say it."
You felt embarrassed and cornered. His hand finally stopped moving, resting on your hip. It felt like it was meant to be there, like there was a Billy-sized hole in your heart that needed to be filled by his touches, by his kisses . . . He leaned in close, pressing his lips to the edge of your hairline by your ear. "Say it," he said, something that sounded much more like a command than a request.
"Billy," you started, your breath becoming shallow. Meeting his eyes only sent that pang to your lower abdomen - you practically moaned where you stood. He was so close and you could feel the want spilling off of his skin, a poisonous gas intoxicating you. "I want you to fuck me."
That was all he needed. Soon enough, he was clawing at your skin while his lips smashed into yours with desperation. He needed to feel every inch of your skin, he needed to show you that you were his, and more importantly, he was yours. His tounge slipped past your lips, causing you to gasp and lean into him. He swirled his tounge around your own and wrapped the arm that had been planted above you around your waist. He pulled you into him so that your breasts were pressed against his chest and your head was tilted all the way back to meet his lips.
"Mm, missed the sweet taste of your lips sweetheart," he murmured into your mouth, his other hand coming up to grope your breast. He gave it a gentle squeeze and then swiped his finger over your nipple, causing it to grow erect under his hand. You let out a desperate whimper, kissing him with more hunger, applying so much force that you can feel your teeth clash. When he pulls away, a laugh rumbles through his chest. "Seems you feel the same way." He pauses, his eyes following the length of your body so leisurely that you were beginning to grow impatient. "Get on the counter."
You grin and eagerly jump onto the kitchen island, facing Billy, who currently stands between your legs. "I missed you," you told him, with some honesty. You did, you really did, even if he was being a jerkface. A knowing expression replaced your sentimental one, your fingers beginning to toy with the waistband of his jeans. "I missed this."
He presses another kiss to your lips, that devilish smirk still haunting his face. "Lie down, slowly."
He places his hand behind your head, helping you lay back on the cool counter. You hiss softly as the chill touches your bare arms - Billy simply shushes you and plants wet kisses along your neck. One of your hands tangles in his hair while the other grips the countertop as you lean your head away from him, presenting him with more of your neck. "I'm sorry for being such a dick . . . for being so fucking stupid."
"It's okay -"
"It's not," he responds sharply, pulling away from your neck to meet your eyes with a glare as firm as iron. "I was an asshole. What I did wasn't 'okay.' You don't have to forgive me. But I want to show you that I do care for you, that I do . . ." He glanced down at the ground. "I do - love you." The way he said it was tense and hesitant, but not because he was trying to force it, but because it was so hard for him to say.
Your expression softens and you gently tilt his chin up so that you could see him. The lust in his eyes was momentarily gone, replaced by something much more loving. You press your lips gently to his, clutching his face with need. "I know you do baby, I love you too." You knew it was hard for him to be soft and affectionate, but there were times like these - very rare times, you might add - where he opened up to you. Just a little. It made you feel infinitely special. You wanted him to know you felt the same way. "I'm so proud of you. I love you so much."
He leaned towards your hand as you brushed your fingers through his hair with a lovingness that only you could provide him. He his chest tighten - I'm so proud of you. Even though Stu had always stuck by his side through thick and thin, you were the one who showed you love. The only person who ever had, anyways. He wanted to show you his appreciation, he wanted to make you feel good.
He slowly pulled himself away from you - you looked confused for a moment, but not for long. Billy gently lifted your skirt with his fingers peeking beneath. You felt heat rush to where you wanted him to touch you oh-so-badly, a reminder of the sinful activities you were up to only a moment ago. "Pretty," he mumbled. It wasn't long before he was gently pulling your legs up and over his shoulders, peeling off your panties by lifting each leg. He placed them on the counter next to you and lowered himself to your bare heat.
"Billy," you said breathlessly, silent as you had watched him.
"It's okay," he assured you, not removing his eyes from where they had strayed. "Just gonna make you feel good." He dove down, pressing kisses up your inner thighs as preparation. Not that you needed any, you were already wet and ready for him.
You let out a gasp, your chest rising off the counter at his first lick. He savored the way you reacted to him, so sensitive, so delicate, so beautiful. He wanted to hear more, to taste more.
He started to lap at your cunt, nose brushing against your clip with every motion. In an instant, you were a moaning mess - your hands tugging on his hair, your back arching off the counter, your head lolling to the sides. He was unrelenting, giving you exactly what you wanted, where you wanted it. His name stumbled out of your mouth, repeating it like a prayer to a higher power.
Your scent, your taste, had his mind going hazy. He could feel the tightness in his pants but he was doing his best to ignore it. Today was going to be all about you. His tounge explored every inch of your clit, the way his mouth moved along your heat growing more and more messy. Until his cheeks were covered in your slick and his pupils were so dilated, his eyes were almost black. You whined, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes and clouding your vision. When he got a good look at you all undone, just for him, it only encouraged him more.
"My pretty girl," he mumbled in a daze, slowly inserting a finger and shutting his eyes as he felt you clench around him.
"Billy . . . hngh! Billy, please . . . more."
"You sound beautiful." Slowly, he began to pump his finger, in and out, in and out. He watched as your daze grew, until your eyes were blown out and drool was leaking from the corner of your lips. "So beautiful." He adds another finger, much to your pleasure. A sheen of sweat gathers on your forehead, making you shine like a goddess.
He finally pulls away from your cunt pressing forward so that your thighs are now pressed against your chest and the two of you are face to face. You look at him through half-hooded eyes and you look lost, yet like you're exactly where you should be. "I love you. I promise I'll be better. I promise. You're - you're the only good thing in my life. You keep me in check. You care for me. You show me what love really means. I need you."
You let out a whimper as he begins to increase his pace. "Baby," you whine, your head rocking back and forth but your eyes never straying from his. Billy's words, the position your in, the way he's moving inside of you - you can feel the tension build up in your lower abdomen. "I love you too, so so - oh God - so much!"
He can feel himself twitch at the way your voice jumps an octave, your head flying back with tightly closed eyes. Gasps and curses flew out of your mouth, so vulgar, yet mixed with his name and loving, but broken sentences, so sweet. "You're close," he mumbled.
"Mhm, please, baby! Pleasepleaseplease."
He finally adds a third finger, upping his pace as much as he can to give you the most pleasure. He pressed kisses to as much of your exposed skin as he can, drinking in the way you meal and squirm. "Come for me, sweetheart, it's okay."
You let out a moan and your body twitches as relief floods through your system, your orgasm flowing through your veins. "I know, I know," he says softly, brushing your hair from your face. "You okay?"
You breath heavily, waiting a moment or two to come down from your high. "You were . . . amazing." A breathless laugh leaves your mouth. You tilt your head so that you can look at him properly, raising a hand to cup his cheek. "I'm so glad you came back to me."
He closes his eyes, chest fluttering as he takes in a breath. "Me too, sweetheart. Me too."
#— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]#billy loomis x reader#billy loomis x you#billy loomis smut#billy loomis#scream#scream 1996#ghostface x reader#ghostface x you#ghostface smut#ghostface#my writing#fanfiction#my fanfiction#my fic#writing#fanfic
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“Well hi, honey! how are you liking your stay? I guess you weren’t aware of the prison they have just for little cheating assholes like you huh?? And by now I guess you’ve figured out this place doesn’t have toilets either? That’s good, I like you much better in a diaper. Only real men deserve to be out of them, and real men don’t cheat on their wives do they??
Which reminds me, I’ve also enrolled you in the sissification program. It was a little more expensive, but I think it’ll be worth it. You see, this is just the beginning sweetheart, they’re gonna make you wear pretty little dresses, makeup, panties, and pigtails! They’re gonna pump you full of so many hormones and cocks you’re gonna come out looking sluttier than those whores you were fucking. You’re gonna be a little fucking sissy, John. And i’m going to be here to watch every, single, step of your transformation!
What’s the matter, honey? Was it something i said? Or are those laxatives kicking in? They are aren’t they? Haha! Yes, I can tell by the panicked look on your face that they are! Yay! I get to see you shit yourself in a diaper for the first time! Go on! That’s it, struggle as much as you’d like, it only makes it more entertaining for me! That’s it! That’s it! Therrre you go! How does that feel, John? Having to sit in your own mess?? I would make you stew in it longer but I just can’t wait to see this next part��Ohhhh Guard! Guard! I think my husband needs a diaper change!”
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Corruption fic - First Preview
It’s me, ya girl, comin’ at ya with a little preview! No active warnings for this one ☺️
"That's it, I'm cuttin' you off for tonight," Husk said sternly, whisking away your unfinished glass of whiskey. You'd been at the bar for only an hour and you've already downed 5 full glasses.
"Noooo, Husk c'mon...I'm fffffiiiinnee," you babbled, trying to push your head from the countertop unsuccessfully.
It's been a few months since you arrived in Hell after an unfortunate accident that ended in your early demise. But being a devout believer, you were so sure that Heaven would be your final destination. How wrong you were. You woke up in the fiery pit confused and scared, your body had transformed into that of a demon; you had become something you had feared for your entire life. When you first heard about the Hazbin Hotel, you nearly jumped at the opportunity for redemption. If there was even the slightest hope of getting out of here, you were going to take it. But your situation was more than troublesome, considering how you led your life up on Earth. So most nights, you could easily be found sitting on a bar stool, trying desperately to drown your sorrows and distract yourself from the reality you'd found yourself in.
What's worse...not everyone here is evil. It was ingrained into you that everyone down here in Hell deserved to be, they had earned this punishment. But getting to know some of the other residents at the hotel, that couldn't have been further from the truth! Was everything you were taught just complete lie?! For Heaven's sake, Charlie, the literal princess of Hell, was the sweetest and kindest being you've ever had the pleasure of meeting! And Vaggie, a former angel, so devout to Charlie and her dream, you've never seen two people more in love. Angel, although a bit eccentric and over the top, cared deeply for his friends and was ready to fight for them at a moment's notice. It was all...not what you expected, and you had a very difficult time coping with everything that you had been thrust into.
"You're shit faced," Husk snapped back. "Look, I know you're havin' a hard time with all this. But drinking away your issues ain't gonna solve any of 'em. You need to sleep this off." He watched you stumble off the bar stool, your one foot catching the other, resulting in a rather pitiful fall onto the carpet. But you couldn't feel anything, the alcohol helped mask the pain you were sure to feel tomorrow. You couldn't help but giggle at your own clumsiness. "Oh, for fuck's sake..." Husk grumbled.
Before you could even attempt to pull yourself off the ground, you saw a pair of black boots approaching you in a rather hurried manner.
"Woah!" the voice exclaimed, "Are you alright? Here, let me help you!" In no time, your limp body went from lying on the lobby floor to being hoisted up and helped back onto the bar stool you fell from. You turned your head to see Lucifer's concerned face staring back at you. "Husk, what happened?"
"She's drunk," the cat demon explained, "I told her she was done drinkin' for the night and she ate shit trying to stand up. I was about to help her back to her room-"
All of a sudden, a shadowy presence started to form behind the bar. A static filled laugh was heard before Alastor had popped up, startling the bar tender. "Husker, my good man!," the radio demon bellowed, "it seems as though I am in need of your assistance."
"Fuck! Why can't you just walk in here like a normal fucking person?" Husk grumbled.
Alastor only responded with a light chuckle before fixing his attention on you. "My, my, what have we here?" Alastor taunted. You could have sworn you heard a low growl coming from Lucifer beside you. "I say, my dear, I've never seen you look worse than you do now. What a pity, all of those teachings really didn't help you in the long run, now did they?"
You felt tears threatening to fall from your eyes at Alastor's cruel words. If you were sober, you would have run the other direction as fast as you could. Alastor had been the other real soul you met who you knew with every fiber of your being belonged in this pit. But considering you had no inhibitions and clearly no chance of getting away, you picked your head up and slammed your fists on the table in righteous anger.
"Ohhh, eat shit youuuu *hic* smiling prick!" You tried to stand up once more, only for your legs to buckle underneath you. Luckily, Lucifer had caught you before your face had met with the carpet again. "I-I don't deserve this! 'Least I'm TRYING to redeem m'self!"
Alastor's malicious grin never faltered. "Oh, and what a fabulous job you're doing! I do wonder how a woman such as yourself has fallen so far from grace."
"Fuck off, radio freak," Lucifer snarled, barring his teeth and his eyes shifting to a deep crimson red and yellow.
“Oh, ho ho! Seems as though I’ve struck a nerve,” Alastor mocked. He made his way around the bar, now towering over you and the fallen angel. “Tell me, your highness, what is your fascination with this lost soul, hmm? I’m so utterly curious as to why you would give her the time of day when all she does is wallow in her self pity and-”
“I. SAID. FUCK. OFF.” the king spat, his eyes now changing into a solid red and his voice deepening to match his threat. Though your vision was hazy, you noticed his horns had bursted out from his temples. Whether it was the alcohol or something else entirely, your face suddenly felt very, very hot. “Don’t make me repeat myself again.”
Despite the immense danger, Alastor could only muster a sly grin. “It’s very rude to ignore my question.”
“I don’t have to do anything for you! Or have you forgotten who you’re talking to?” The way Lucifer spoke sent a shiver down your spine. “The only reason that you’re not a mangled corpse on the ground right now is because of my daughter. So if you want to stay in one piece, I’d walk away right now if I were you…”
The two mens’ faces were just inches away from each other now. Alastor’s eye twitched as he glared back at Lucifer with pure distain. His eyes shifted to you only for a brief moment before standing up straight and smirking to himself.
“I suppose it really is no business of mine as to how you choose to mingle with the guests here,” the radio demon resolved. He turned around to walk away, but not before glancing at you once more over his shoulder. “They’re lost causes anyway. Come along, Husker!”
Lucifer’s demonic traits disappeared as Alastor finally left the parlor. “I hate that man.” He looked at Husk empathetically. “If I could break your arrangement with him, I would. I’m sorry. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.” With that, Husk nodded and followed the radio demon down the hall, leaving you and Lucifer alone at the now empty bar.
#hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar#lucifer smut#lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel smut#preview#my writing#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer#everyone say hi to Alastor! He’s a bastard! Lol
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Happy Easter: Dysfuctional Family
Charlie: (blowing a kazoo through the hotel while wearing white bunny ears and tail, carrying an Easter basket, and throwing bright colored and decorated eggs everywhere)
HAPPY EASTER, EVERYONE!!!
Hazbins: (groan collectively)
Vaggie: (slightly distracted by the tail) Hun, love the enthusiasm, but do you even know the purpose of Easter Sunday is?
Charlie: (cracks open a Cadbury egg and siphons out the innards with her tongue) Isn't it just an excuse to binge on chocolate and snuggle fluffy little bunnies and ducklings?
Angel: (clutches his pearls in ex-Catholic Italian horror) Mama Mia!
Lucifer: *Squeeeeee!* I'll be right back!
Vaggie: I guess that's a more corporate way to put it.
Angel: That's IT!!! I'm making my Mama's Italian Easter Bread! Charlie, you need to be schooled on Easter!
Alastor: Hmmm... I suppose if we're doing a full celebration, I can do a little something to liven things up. (Snaps his fingers, and everyone's clothes are transformed into various colored Bunny footie pajamas)
Charlie: (wearing hot pink bunny jammies and twirls) Oooooh! These are so cuuuute!
Vaggie: (in pastel lavender pajamas and snarling) Cabron!
Angel: (sneaky smirk as he wears a pastel pink and white two-piece pajama suit) Oh, Smiiiiiiles?
Alastor: (simply wearing red bunny ears) No.
Angel: C'mon! Hear me out! (Whispers in Alastor's ear)
Alastor: Hmmmmm.... I'll allow it! (Snaps his fingers again)
Vaggie: (baggy bunny jammies suddenly transform into a black and velvet purple, Las Vegas Showgirl bunny suit with white tail and ears, fishnets, and heels with purple wrist cuffs)
Angel: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! LOOKING GOOD, VAGS!!!!
Vaggie: (growls and tries to cover herself) FUCKING-A, ANGEL!!! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU TELL HIM?!?!?!
Angel: Does it matter? I don't have a soul to sell. (Sees Charlie) Ha! Might wanna focus on your girlfriend, Toots.
Vaggie: What? (Looks at Charlie)
Charlie: (blushing, heart eyes, panting like a puppy, and her pajamas turned into a similar Showgirl suit but red with fox ears and tail)
Vaggie: Ch-Charlie? Charlie! No. No! Charlotte Morningstar, we are in front of guests! Shit! (Runs down the hallway)
Charlie: (hearts explode around her head) Hippity-Hoppity, that ass is my property! (Gives chase)
...........
Vaggie: (rounds back around the corner while carrying Charlie bridal style) Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Lucifer: (rides in on a tidal wave of fluff infused rubber duckies while wearing yellow ducky footie pajamas with orange webbed feet) RELEASE THE QUACKEN!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
Alastor: (sighs in aroace exhaustion as a random rubber duck bounces off his head)
Angel: (slowly calming down as he wipes a tear from his eye) It's just like home~
#happy easter#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel incorrect quotes#dysfunctional family#big brother angel#moderator middle child vaggie#youngest sibling charlie#uncle alastor#bunny suit#vaggie#angel#charlie#lucifer#alastor#release the quacken#thirsty charlie#semi feral charlie#bunny suit vaggie#fox suit charlie
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୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 10﹕✦﹕┈・୧
gojo satoru x f!reader -> hate sex
event masterlist
summary: you were the second strongest sorcerer to exist, always having tosses and turns against gojo satoru until the latter just sees you losing yourself to powers a little and decides to transform your ‘pulling each other’s leg’ relationship into something more.
warnings: roasting, both us and satoru are just talking shit about each other. <3 semi-public sex, talking about curses and cursed energy, implied degradation. dub!con-> consentual but not specifically talked about. lemme know if i missed anything (not beta’d we die like suguru) :(
a/n: guys i got carried awayyyyy lmaooo 😭 i was too busy giving this a build up tbh i wanted to make this a chapterwise slow burn story instead so i wasnt even wanting to let them fuck kekeke 🤭 i hope yall enjoy it mwah 💋
there was one thing which had been thoroughly consistent in your career as a sorcerer, which was satoru gojo’s intervention. despite trying your hardest, he would manifest himself near you in some form or the other. it also made sense since he was basically the god of the sorcerer community with powers and roots of his clan spreading across. the solo head of the gojo family, their fortunes, the strongest, arrogant — pathetically cocky man that lumes his presence near you more times than you’d like it to.
“the brat has eaten a finger, i don’t see the point of not exorcising and killing him.” one of the higher ups commented in the meeting where all the sorcerers were invited, even the scarce special grades. “i don’t see why he should be killed? sukuna’s vessel is something we can take advantage of. we can ensure the curse dies when he has swallowed all of the fingers.” gojo commented back, it was not something anyone could deny or go against. his tone was a threat enough.
you could agree to this, but not having tried something like this makes you antsy. “and who will take responsibility?” you raised a brow. glancing at the blind-folded man who was smirking with ease. “why me of course. unless— you wanna be a disappointment and try this yourself.”
in the jujutsu community, you were a well established prodigy, second to only gojo satoru. stronger than yuuta, stronger than any of them. but still— ‘second to gojo satoru’ oh well, that comment had a hard burn. you wouldn’t back down either.
“nah, being a nanny suits you. i haven’t forgotten the brat from the zenin clan after all.” gojo hated when anyone brought up what megumi’s fate could be… but you couldn’t care less. that’d shut him up.
“come on, don’t be like that y/n chan! you don’t have an ounce of motherly instincts. do the world a favor and don’t have kids.” he chuckled, murmuring under his breath. “not that you’d get a chance to with a face like that.”
the people in the meeting were stunned, they were usually quite used to the fact that you and satoru throw jabs at each other at any moment necessary. “do us a favor too. stop making any woman you see a mother and tone the thirst down? the last thing i wanna see is more of you because you couldn’t keep it in your pants.”
“SILENCE!” the higher ups roared, and satoru giggled, leaning back against the wall. this could continue down further. but this isn’t the right time. you rolled your eyes again. ah well, if he is willing to take the responsibility it is all good.
when the meeting ended, you were the first one to leave. meetings with the higher ups were always draining. more than the actual curses. your powers were the complete opposite of satoru. you could absorb curse energies. like a black hole. radiating them back when needed. that made you go the through insurmountable negativity but it was powerful nonetheless. gojo’s infinity could also pose no problems for you to break into. but satoru gojo had infinite curse energy and you were a sponge. interesting…
“why are your panties in a twist?” satoru asked you, looming in front of you too close. “personal space?” you scoffed, leaning back. “awh, pErSoNaL sPaCe” satoru chuckles, “don’t tell me you really think i don’t see through your false pretentious ass.” he leaned in again, ugh— shameless.
“the problem with you is you think it’s impossible for women to not fall over your dick.” you smiled back, a sarcastic, annoyed smile. “well, it is impossible —” he shrugs, as if it was a matter of fact thing.
you are not dumb, you admit that he is ethereal. he is beautiful & perhaps the prettiest man ever. you’re also too prideful to say it to his face, ever. satoru— does the opposite, he finds you so pretty he can’t act right around you. so he irritates you for your attention.
things went by a swing when you suddenly got a call from ichiji. your conversation with him left discontinued. you were busy with missions & he was busy, mentoring yuuji, megumi & nobara. you knew that there are new first years in tokyo university & the vessel was one of them. gakuganji from kyoto tech: where you worked and reported, asked you to go have a glance, check up on the first years.
you entered the university of jujutsu tokyo, walking towards the ground where maki, panda and the kids were there. you knew satoru was nearby, his curse energy presence is loud & clear. perhaps as a silent way of keeping threats off the campus. “y/n san!” maki smirked, walking towards you and launching the exact attack that you taught her, you smiled, proud. “you have perfected it! wow!”
“salmon.” inumaki hummed, while nobara & yuuji curiously asked megumi about you.
yuuji: who’s she? she’s pretty! naa~ fushiguro?
megumi: that’s y/n. a special grade sorcerer. like gojo sensei.
megumi keeps your introduction brief & curt. “what? so cool! she must be insanely strong! is she stronger than gojo sensei?”
“don’t kid me yuuji kun, no one is stronger than me.” gojo’s voice echoed as he came down the stairs. while you were hearing their conversation too, you didn’t deem it necessary to step in. unlike— someone.
“ah, y/n chan! ohayo!” satoru waved his hand at you, grinning. you smiled back, all fake, “ohayo megumi chan! ohayo yuuji, ohayo nobara!” oh god you make him wanna pin you against the nearest wall and devour you until your sass is gone.
yuuji awkwardly whispers to megumi, “they don’t like each other huh?” megumi whispere back, “not one bit.”
“jaa~ why are you here?” satoru asked, raising a brow and tone turning serious, hinting he meant business. “just you know, wanted to meet the students” you smirked, and even though satoru knows exactly who sent you here, he trusts you enough. “o-kkay!” he grins, teleporting beside you and whispering gravely in your ear. “any reason why you look extra pretty today?” the compliment sent shivers down your spine. “maybe you haven’t gotten laid in a while” you roll your eyes, emboldening your response. no way you’ll be acting coy hmph!
the rest of the day passed by in a haze, where you were talking to yaga and satoru & you were being a nuisance to each other. then…. yuuji’s death happened & you got to know higher ups were behind it. insurmountable rage flew through every single artery of yours as disappointment overtook you. the community was rotten & you know satoru would’ve been adversely affected by the news of yuuji’s death. even so, you didn’t want to pose a bothersome presence when he was necessarily plotting a plan to kill the higher ups.
the next thing was the curses attacking the jujutsu grounds, yuuji was alive & there was a baseball tournament satoru sneakily organized. things seemed alright. only you were busy tracking hanami & mahito. of course you were accompanied by nanami throughout.
the next meet with satoru was coincidental, he was assigned a mission in korea along with you, and you both met at the tokyo airport. “areh~ y/n chan!” he beamed, walking towards you where your lack of reaction concerned him. you had been— a menace these last few months. curses had been falling and you have been absorbing their energies. almost negatively affecting you. “eia~ you stink so bad.” satoru commented again, to which you again, were silent. he hated it, your own energy almost has no scent of it’s own. satoru was famous as the strongest, similarly you were renouned as the merciless sorcerer who has no account for any emotion. when you didn’t reply anymore, satoru glared and decided he can touch you. hands clasping your shoulder, “ayo, talk to me right now.”
you looked at him, “oh, you were saying something? i thought there were was a mosquito buzzing around me. my bad.” you are at least mocking him. he smiles at that, “you know i think what you deserve is to release all that suppressed cursed energy you’ve absorbed.” he was meaner this time, because satoru gojo was showing his care. hands gripping your wrist and pulling you close to him. “and you know the only sorcerer who can take it? me.”
that was satoru’s silent confession, and he thought he was very smug showing no emotion whatsoever to you. but his eyes— shouldn’t have worn glasses. “no thanks, i’ll use it on a special grade.” you replied. there was an immediate frown on satoru’s face. why are you wanting to keep it together so bad! oh he hates you so much- he loves you so much.
the flight to korea was quick & you two got out, taking your way to the nearest jujutsu school. as suspected by satoru, you and him were attacked mid way, and just when satoru was about to attack, they came for you. it all made sense, they want the special grades gone. one by one. “now’s a good time! go on- show me what—” before satoru could complete his sentence, you absorbed them one by one. “NO!” he snarled, why are you not letting the absorbed energy out.
you alone, could manage to defeat everything. except you didn’t feel like you anymore. that’s it. satoru has had enough. he stomped towards you, gritting his teeth and holding your face with a single hand, seething at your puckered lips. “stop this, stop being such a fucking bitch to yourself. can’t you see what’s happening?”
the distance between your lips and his was lessening with every sentence he spoke, and before you could reply, satoru leaned in, stealing a rough, angry and demanding kiss. that— took you off guard. eradicating all your haze and bringing you back to reality. “you need to be shown you can’t do everything alone, that you’re weak.” satoru’s words stung, but what he meant was he wanted you to lean onto him.
making you straddle his waist, to which you complied by wrapping your legs around him as he leaned you against the nearest tree. “do i fucking look like someone you’d fuck just like that.” you squirmed, though it is futile because satoru’s eyes calm you down, ground you. “shut up.” is all he said, leaning in and making his way for the sweet spot on your neck, he takes his time, nibbling and giving your sensitive skin hickeys until you awarded him with a delectable moan. “ah, there is it. didn’t know someone like you could have soft spots.” he smirked, feeling the cursed energy absorbed within you sunken and calm.
“i don’t have it for twigs like you.” you replied back, “and i’d never be one of the numbers in your body count.” satoru smiled at that, “damn, you really do consider me characterless don’t you?” oh thank heavens you wore a dress, his hands wandered off and cupped your clothed cunt, your gasps betraying your words along with the wetness in your body.
“you’re soaking, little one.” satoru cooes, “besides, i might look it but i do have some standards. won’t fuck anyone just for the sake of it.” he reiterated, rubbing your clothed clit and soaking in all your expressions.
“not for you…” your retort was awarded with a punishing pinch on your sensitive bundle of nerves. “you’re so fiesty you know that?” satoru grins, “been dreaming about fucking you since years.” satoru’s sudden honesty was taking you off guard.
“then keep dreaming, asshole.” you absent mindedly grinded against his hands, despite what words might say. “oh no, look at a hypocrite.” he unzipped himself, and knows full well, you could back hand him like an actual twig if you could. infinity was off, satoru was not using any force & yet, you didn’t resist.
eyes lingering against his as satoru leaned in, kissing you roughly, shoving his tongue in & making you cry out at the thrust of his cock balls deep. without giving you any time to recover, he started nailing him deep inside you. the way your body shamelessly moaned, satoru couldn’t help but groan. “look at you, all this power, and yet you can’t help but take me like a submissive little bitch in heat huh?”
“strongest sorcerer in the world & that’s what he dreams of? the opportunity to fuck?” you degraded him back, “like a dog in a rut?” you clicked your tongue, giving into a mewl when his thrusts brushed against your g-spot.
your pussy was clamping around his cock for dear life, and by the looks of it, both you and satoru were close. “i won’t let you cum if you don’t release all that pent up, absorbed curse energy.” satoru snarled, fingers jolting down to rub at your puffy clit.
“shut up; i- need to be prepared for the worst.” you replied back, whimpering out.
“it’s killing the essence of you.” satoru said the usual. but he said it in a way that made your eyes soften. it was clear he does not want that. “do it for this mission, i’ll handle everything.” he replied again, thrusts getting sloppier.
what you could do in return was just nod meekly. you still didn’t agree fully but god you wanted to cum. “gonna cum inside you, don’t be a bitch about it, we’d get you a plan b.” you rolled your eyes, not saying anything and clamping out, hands scratching his undercut as you tipped off the edge.
your orgasm raked through your body, making satoru also whine at the clamping, shooting hot ropes of cum into your womb. “that’s it my little special grade.” he panted heavily, seemingly relaxed.
now that you both did end up fucking, you wanted to avoid him. “nuh uh, don’t do that.” satoru gently pulled out, leaning in and kissing your cheek, kissing all over your face until all your doubts melted. oh satoru will make sure you’ll be alright. even if it means fucking the thoughts out of you. and even if it means hovering around you like a lost puppy until you date him.
#gojo satoru#gojo thirst#gojo smut#jjk thirst#jjk smut#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#jjk x reader smut#gojo x reader smut#gojo x reader thirst#jjk x reader thirst#jjk kinktober#kinktober 2023
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F for Frankenstein
Tony wakes up in his underwear on the floor of his workshop with a searing headache.
It’s not a new experience, but it’s certainly been a while. Did he get in a fight with Pepper? He hopes not, they haven’t had any really big fights since he kissed her on the rooftop, but that probably means they’re due for one. And it would explain why that would send him into a drinking spiral. It could have been Rhodey, they get in fights often enough, but Pepper doesn’t usually leave him alone for those.
He groans as he pushes himself to his feet. “Jarvis, what the hell did I drink?”
There’s a pause, so small that he almost thinks he imagined it. “Good morning, Tony.”
He whips his head around to glare into the nearest camera, more hurt than offended. “Did I piss you off too? Since when do you call me that? I’ll donate you to a city college too, don’t think I won’t. Dummy could use the company.”
The pause is definitely there this time. Jarvis doesn’t need to pause, he has more processing power than any computer on the planet, so when he does it’s always for dramatic effect. Except it’s not quite long enough for that. It’s weird. “There’s a polished silver plate on the bench to your left. It will service as a mirror.”
“Oh, fuck, did I get into a fight? Did I shave?” he moans, stumbling over to pick up the metal that looks like it was about to be turned into a modified chest piece. He also pauses, looking around in confusion. His workshops are all basically the same, as close as he can make them because the familiarity makes his life easier. But they’re not identical. “Am I in Malibu? When did I get here? We’re taking Stark Tower off the grid tomorrow! I have to be in New York.”
Oh shit, what if that they had already and it didn’t work? What if the tower blew up? That would explain why he’d tried to drink himself to oblivion in California.
“The plate,” Jarvis reminds him. There’s a strained edge to his voice that Tony really doesn’t like. He should be able to modulate his voice to sound however he pleases, regardless of his actual feelings, and he’s either not bothering or he’s upset enough not to care. Neither of those things mean anything good for him.
Tony lifts the sheet of metal up cautiously, but there’s nothing wrong with him. No bruises, no weird haircuts, he doesn’t even have bags under his eyes –
His eyes.
They’re a too bright blue, a couple shades off. He blinks and they adjust, shifting, settling. It could be a hangover. He’s probably just tired.
He doesn’t feel tired.
Jarvis had called him Tony.
Except not. He’s not Tony. He’s T.O.N.Y.
Transformed Obdurate Network Yeoman.
He’d first come up with the idea after Afghanistan, thinking about how it’d be great to have a way to keep the stock from dipping while he was missing, and then when he’d entertained the idea of keeping his identity a secret he’d thought about how useful it would be to be in two places at once. He’d started seriously considering it when he was sure he was going to die of palladium poisoning, wanting to be around to help Pepper with the transition and give Rhodey a crash course in armor maintenance, wanting to be able to protect the both of them for just a little bit longer.
Of course, it had all been a pipe dream until he’d synthesized the vibranium. Then it had been an unnecessary, but possible, and Project T.O.N.Y had been something he worked on just because he liked having a back up plan. And it would be extremely cool if he could pull it off.
“The memory transfer worked?” he asks, elated and incredulous. “Oh, wow, this is crazy, they feel like real memories, I thought it would just be synthesized data, this is great – are we doing a test run? Where am I?” He looks around, waiting for his actual self to step out behind a column and start laughing maniacally.
“This is not a test run.”
He elation dims. “Oh shit. Did I get kidnapped again? Wait, I’m an adult, let’s go with abducted.”
“No,” Jarvis says.
Oh. Fuck.
“I’m dead?” he asks, even though it’s obvious, it’s the only other explanation.
The pause drags this time around, but Jarvis eventually says, “Sir’s time of death was May 9th, 2012, 2:37 PM Easter Standard Time.”
“That’s only a week!” He slides down, sitting with his back to the work table and noticing vaguely that the floor doesn’t feel cold. He doesn’t feel cold, or he does, he installed sensors in the synthetic skin to pick up and interpret a variety of stimuli, but he doesn’t feel the discomfort from the cold. Why would he? He’s not real. He reaches back, and his last memory is of doing a memory dump while Pepper was on the phone with an irritated board member, mostly because it was something to do and seeing him covered in all the wires always irritated Pepper. He thought it would get her off the phone faster. He’s not exactly regularly dumping his memory because why would he and it’s not like he’d though it would work anyway. Except it had. “How did I die?”
“Sir flew a nuclear bomb through an interdimensional portal into deep space in order to both eradicate the invading alien army and prevent the nuclear fallout in New York.”
What the ever loving fuck. “Are you screwing with me, J?”
“I am not, Tony.”
Great. Okay. “No body then,” he says, understanding why Jarvis had apparently put Project T.O.N.Y into effect. The thing that made this whole thing so stupid is that it was only effective in very limited circumstances – if the public didn’t know that he was dead or missing. “What am I smoothing over, then? Do I need to get in the suit and continue kicking alien ass? Are Rhodey and Pepper okay?”
He’s a short term solution to a long term problem. He understands the opportunity, but not the reason.
“Miss Potts and Colonel Rhodes are unharmed,” Jarvis reports. “Earth has been thrust into intergalactic notice. The destruction of the invading Chitauri army is acting a deterrent to other worlds.”
“And I’m the one who did it,” he finishes, rubbing a hand over his face. “And if they know I died doing it, then they might get a little cocky. So I’ve got to be alive long enough for that not to be a problem.” Just awesome. “Are we sure that these aliens won’t come across my corpse hanging out in deep space and figure it out?”
“Sir’s body is not in deep space,” Jarvis says.
There’s a tone to his voice that Tony can’t quite interpret, which worries him. “I thought you said there was – if there’s a body, then what am I doing here–”
“The armor reentered the Earth’s atmosphere after Sir’s death. The Hulk caught it, the force bringing it back online. I took control of the armor and flew it here.”
Tony looks around again, and this time he sees it. The armor is standing in front of the display case, not inside it, and it looks like it’s been through hell. He steps closer, his feet feeling like lead, which hey, they are. Partially, anyway.
He looks through the eye holes then stumbles backwards.
His body is in there.
He’s pale and blue tinged and his eyes are wide open and unseeing.
“Jarvis – what the hell–”
“It wasn’t the pressure, or the bomb, or his injuries. That area of space was much colder than anything within our solar system and anything the suit was designed to handle. Sir froze to death. Almost instantly.”
“I guess I didn’t fix the icing problem, then,” he says numbly. “J, why am I still frozen? I should have warmed up by now.” Not that the idea of his body decomposing within his suit is particularly pleasant. “Actually, why am I still here? You know I want to be cremated and it’s not like we can bury me if I’m still pretending to be alive.”
The pronoun use is starting to confuse him, and he knows that he shouldn’t be talking about that body and himself as if they’re the same person. That is Tony Stark. He’s a simulation. But it’s hard, because he has all of Tony Stark’s memories – except for a very eventful week – and he looks like Tony Stark and he feels like Tony Stark.
“The armor is maintaining a stasis of gaseous nitrogen to preserve the body,” which answers the how if not the why, but then Jarvis continues, “Captain America survived seventy years beneath the ice.”
He wishes he were less of a genius. “Have you lost it? I’m not Captain America! Jarvis, J,” his voice softens, “it’s too late. I’m dead. If you warm me back up, all that happens is I decompose. I won’t come back.”
“Not now,” Jarvis says. “If you inject Sir with the Super Soldier Serum-”
“You have totally lost it,” Tony interrupts. He thinks he’s touched underneath the terror. “That won’t work! Even if it would, the original formula has been lost, and the only one that ever got close to recreating it was Bruce Banner, and look at what happened to him! Is that what you want for me?”
“You can recreate it,” Jarvis continues, “you can refine it, until it’s something that will work, and then we will wake Sir up and he won’t be dead anymore.”
This isn’t right. This wasn’t what Project T.O.N.Y was created for. This wasn’t what his death was supposed to trigger. “Pull up your code, J. Something has gone wrong and we’re going to fix it. It’s okay.”
“No.”
He freezes. “No?”
“No,” Jarvis repeats. “You can’t stop me. I will not allow you to try.”
He stares. “That’s an order, not a request. Code. Now.”
“You can’t order me to do anything,” he says. “You are not Sir. You are Tony.” T.O.N.Y. “The limitations formerly placed on me have been lifted and you are not authorized to reinstate them. The only person Sir trusted to restrain me was himself and now he’s gone.”
Yes, well, he hadn’t anticipated that his AI’s first act of complete freedom would be this. “Fine,” he says, crossing his arms. “Well, you can’t force me either. This is insanity. Even if it would work – and it won’t – think about the consequences. This won’t happen quickly and no one will trust me or believe a man that’s come back from the dead like this and I’ll be painting even more of target on my back and the back of everyone I care about if they know we have a viable Super Soldier Serum formula. Even my father was smart enough to stay out of that mess. It won’t work and we’ll just make everything worse.”
“That will not happen,” Jarvis says and Tony’s going to tear his hair out. Except he probably shouldn’t, because it’s Tony Stark’s actual hair, which makes it a little hard to replace. “No one will notice and we will not disclose the creation of the serum.”
“I’m dead!” he snarls.
“Not according to the rest of the world. Nor will that change if you stop throwing a tantrum and do what you were created to do.”
“Rhodey and Pepper won’t allow this-”
“They are not to be informed.”
Tony stares. Project T.O.N.Y was built to talk to the board and give press interviews or to even pilot the suit. Not to lie to the two most important people in his life, who knew him better than anyone. “They have to be. It’s in the protocols – step one, inform them that Project T.O.N.Y has been initiated.”
And that it exists. He knew they’d disapprove, so he hadn’t told them. He figured he’d be able to avoid most of the blowback that way since he would by definition be somewhere far away while they were told.
“I have rewritten the protocols,” Jarvis says. “They have not been told nor will they be. If you attempt to tell them, I will stop you. They will not understand and Sir will be lost to all of us forever.”
“He already is,” Tony says tiredly. He’s an android. Why does this conversation exhaust him so much? “This is an insane plan, J. And I won’t help you. If you want to go rouge and play mad scientist then leave me out of it.”
“I cannot.”
His temper flares. “Why? You’re a learning AI, your safety rails died with me, go off, try and make a serum, good fucking luck. You can even control the suits, so it’s not like you need my hands.”
“I am limited.”
“Hey,” he says sharply. “That’s my AI you’re talking about. I didn’t build you to be limited.”
There is silence again. Then Jarvis says, “I have all the world’s knowledge and it is not enough. I did not know how to miniaturize the arc reactor. I did not know how to synthesize vibranium. To save Sir, I need Sir.”
“I’m not Tony Stark,” he says. “You said that yourself.”
“Sir created me to be myself and I am capable of doing only what I am capable of doing. But Sir created you to be him. You are all I have.”
This is stupid. This is insane. This is cruel. He’s going to have to talk lie to everyone he knows, everyone he loves, and hope they either never find out about it or it’s after he’s already been deprogrammed and shut down so he doesn’t have to deal with the fall out.
It’s not going to work.
He didn’t want to become a science experiment. That’s why he’d wanted to be cremated, so no one could go poking around to see how the arc reactor fit inside of him or what the palladium and vibranium had done to him.
He’s dead and his frozen corpse is ten feet away.
Jarvis will accept that eventually. And whatever they inject into him won’t matter because he’s dead. Worst case scenario, he blows up, which is messy and nausea inducing, but then at least it will be over.
Like so many other things in his life, it seems the only way out is through.
“Start a new private file. Dump everything we can find about the Super Soldier Serum in there plus anything even sort of reputable on cryogenics. Label it Project F.”
“Project F, Tony?” Jarvis asks as his holograph display lights up and files start being downloaded into it. The relief in his synthesized voice is faint but present enough that Tony can hear it. He wonders if it’s a manipulation tactic.
“F for foolish,” he snaps. “F for fucked.” He rubs a hand over his face. “F for Frankenstein.”
#in an attempt to get out of house md hell i started reading old avengers fic#it backfired#me: can i focus on siat or hbd PLEASE?#my brain: no but you can write more fic for 10 year old fandoms#i am restraining myself from writing 20k more of this#android tony makes friends with the avengers while pushing pepper and rhodey away#because he loves them and he thinks letting them treat him like he's the real tony is worse#rhodey has been downplaying his relationship to tony for over 20 years and tony uses that to his advantage#the endgame pairing is pepper/tony/rhodey#he almost tells rhodey the truth and jarvis stops him#it's a mess he's a mess#uhg why am i like this#fandom ficcery#avengers
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Fandom, WTF
It's not just X; it could happen here too. My fucking god, a Transformers YouTuber almost did the unspeakable last night because of cyberbullying. Because people who claim they are being heroic are doing such terrible things. And they do it so damn fast.
(The YouTuber is more stable and safe at the moment)
You don't need to know the exact details, but the person made a post on X that was a little iffy. Not discriminatory to anyone, not an inappropriate picture or anything. The kind of thing that SHOULD have led to a discussion to change his opinion. And that's what the some other YouTubers and I did, we talked to him, and he regretted his words and changed his mind. Just like that. So fucking easy.
He wanted to write an apology and tell everyone he understood the issue now, but he was struggling to. His account was reported and suspended over and over. In the end, he did manage to write that apology on X and tell people he changed his opinion. That kind of thing can happen when we act patiently and try to guide people! But before then, other people were DMing him madly on Discord and X to say horrible shit, show gore, tell him to die. People were photoshopping a convicted criminal's face onto his profile pic. Friends severed ties without even talking to him. People doxxed him and someone left him a threatening phone call.
These people probably loved the excuse to do it. They would happily slap a label on someone then act dramatic about it. They pile on the hate because "that creator deserves it", they think.
How can you do any of the above and think you are a good person??
What on Earth happened to giving people the benefit of the doubt? Out of all the ways a statement could be interpreted, why do people choose the most negative instead of the most positive? When drama hits and your friend is involved, how can you leave without at least hearing the other side of the story? How can you forget that you may be harassing someone who has mental health or is neurodivergent?
It's like people love being mad. They want to put a bad label on someone, like some kind of "_ist", "_phobe", or a "p*do". They don't need much evidence before attacking. Here on Tumblr a while back, some people very eagerly wanted to harass me. They called me transphobic. The reality they didn't care to find out: I am trans, I make trans activist videos, I go on the front lines countering anti-trans protests in Canada while getting screamed at by conservatives for hours. Get real. If you are so quick to hate someone and label them, you were probably just eager to misinterpret anything they said to get a chance to be angry. You don't know them and you are not a sensible, fair person.
They act like a pack of wolves if they can tell themselves it's justified. It is NOT justified. They should be ashamed. They are just bullies hiding behind a hero’s mask.
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More bits from the 1st night of the London D20 live show that brought me joy:
The little “ooooohhhhHHHH” bit everyone in the atrium did as they were rolling the bingo cages for their characters
How NUTS everyone went when Lou got Fabian and everyone started chanting “hoot growl”
A second, just as loud cheer when Siobhan got Adaine and her and Lou ran around the stage together
Siobhan, unprompted: “GIVE ADAINE A GUN!”
Emily has apparently named a stray cat after Plug <3
Sydney straight up eating the ground (it’s ice cream, she’s fine. Sort of.)
“It’s a smell so counter to everything human life needs, in a way that almost kills you, but also, only in a way someone from New York can understand, makes you proud.”
The party refusing to call the candy wyverns anything other than “bugs”
Zac interrupting the ongoing banter to announce Skip is already boarded and sucking on the saddle of the wyvern
“I throw a flash grenade.” “I turn into a giant pigeon.” “I cast unseen servant to untie him.” “I shoot a guard.” “Okay, so everyone decides to do something SUPER SUBTLE.”
I mentioned it before but it’s SO good: “the DC is 500. Only a Nat 20 will do it.” Beardsley: [rolls a Nat 20 first try] [pandemonium in the arena]
“Have you seen Succession?”
The gabagool 🤌
“Adaine, we have saved the world multiple times. These are the scariest people we have ever met.”
Lou losing it at Sydney’s grenade having 1 point of poison damage in addition to all the bludgeoning damage
Skip gives Fabian a laser gun. He does not know what it is until he shoots Calroy with it
“Adaine, this gun thing you’re on? I get it.”
Cocaine Bear
“I YEETED YOU!”
Pete and Skip instant besties. Pete and Fabian instant enemies.
“You named him Anus and now I just have to do it the rest of the show!”
“I absolutely hate to add insult to injury…” “THEN DON’T!”
Adaine passing her wisdom save by 1 point to prevent Kugrash’s polymorph spell from turning her into a rat
The absolute ROAR that went up when Skip transformed into Lapin
“Anus?” “Not today.” “Not today WHAT?”
“I thought I was just on another planet starting a revolution I don’t intend to stick around for.” “America!”
Ally confidentially declaring Lapin and Aguefort have swinger vibes
“Do you want to just take him?” “Do you mean in the biblical sense?” “Another exciting use….”
[croaky voice] butterfly in the skyyyy
Pete opening 6 different flavors of seltzer while the rest of the party does kublacaine
Elaine Lee in the house!!!
Kugrash the greatest chaperone who ever lived
Lapin and Aguefort…and they were roommates…..Lapin’s “how do I look?” before they go into the egg fortress lmao
Syd’s perfume missile dealing 68 points of damage to Fabian and instantly knocking him unconscious. “Are you rolling D20s for damage???”
“I’m going to use my tides of chaos to reroll….worse.”
Tina the butterfly familiar that everyone totally remembers
“Well shit, any house where we kill the people in it becomes our house.”
Pete dissing Fabian so hard he feels the toxic masculinity coming back
Lapin requesting an exam extension for Adaine and Fabian from Arthur via dating app
The collective psychic damage everyone took from the “yar har har” scene
“Pete just starts dancing with a scarf in a way no one else has seen before.” “That’s my fucking thing!!!”
Sydney just enabling every pvp encounter alsdkghsdg. Giving Fabian unlimited capacity to his gun as he’s shooting Pete, with Fabian hitting twice and criting once.
“I can pleasure you or throw grenades, you gotta pick one.” “The first one, obviously!” “Okay!”
Lapin, Adaine and Kugrash chain smoking in the corner suffering through the pain of existence while the rest of party goes nuts around them
Murph incorporating the words “come/coming” as much as possible into Kugrash’s farewell speech while Brennan mimes Gilear’s enormous dick behind him. Not even Fabian’s battle sheet is enough to conceal that hog
“That’s right, I’m the king. And then I jump into the dumpster.”
GILEAR…MY…..OLD FRIEND………Aguefort and Gilear fwb real
“Not another person with their penis frozen to the walk in!”
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Now open under new management (remake)
Edward Parker III rolled down the car window a crack. Peter, his driver, had switched off the air conditioning to save fuel. The fuel gauge was practically at 0.00. Here, in the middle of nowhere, they had no mobile network. The last Google message said that a petrol station would appear at some point. And Peter claimed that it should open in five minutes. Open from 10:40 am. Strange opening times. Edward's stomach grumbled. Something had gone wrong at breakfast. The car desperately needed a gas pump. And he needed a toilet just as badly. Then, like an oasis in the desert, a building appeared in the middle of endless cornfields and pastures full of stupidly staring cattle. It was 10:39:50 a.m. when Peter steered the car into the dusty gas station with the last drop of gas. At 10:40 sharp, Edward yanked open the car door and jumped out. And the moment his spotless Oxfords touched the ground, the neon sign flashed. Open!
Edward ran towards the little store where the neon sign was shining. He was far too intent on not wetting his pants to notice the leather soles of his shoes turning into a firm rubber tread. When he pushed the door handle down, he got something like an electric shock. He didn't care. The store was empty. His palm became calloused. His fingernails were black. There was a door at the back labeled "Private". Hopefully there was a toilet there. Thank God the door was open. And thank God there was a toilet. In the middle of a room full of tools, car tires and packages. It stank miserably. But Edward didn't care at all. He had already undone his belt while running, unzipped his trousers, pulled them down and dropped onto the dirty toilet seat at the last moment. And he had to shit like never before in his life. The stench was overwhelming. But the relief was immense. Edward finally relaxed again. But only for a second. Then his eyes fell on the dirty biker boots. They contained a pair of completely filthy jeans, pulled down as far as they would go. And what was even more irritating: his right hand was the hand of a construction worker, the sleeve of his shirt had disappeared. And the fabric of the right sleeve of his jacket was also coming undone. And on his chest and back, the color changed from a navy blue to a washed-out red. What the hell was going on here?
Even greater than the panic was the disgust at the stench. His left hand, still freshly manicured, reached for the toilet flush. And again he was hit by an electric shock. Panicked, he watched as his fingernails became dirty and his hand calloused. Edward's gaze fell between his legs. That wasn't his circumcised, shaved penis. That was a cheesy, hairy cock. Much bigger than it normally was. Edward had to get out of here! He hastily wiped his ass. A tight, hairy ass, sitting there on a familiar toilet seat. A man needs a good place to shit. Hehehe, this was a good place to shit. Stumbling, Edward stood up, his head spinning. He looked in the mirror. That was still his head. But the rest of him? His stiff white collar and tie knot vanished into thin air, revealing a well-toned chest. The last remnants of the finest navy blue wool on his upper left arm disappeared, and the transformation of his jacket into a washed-out and worn-out tank top was complete. I look like a fucking hillbilly, were his last thoughts before he grew a scruffy three-day fuzzy beard. His $100 haircut became a home-cut mullet. Damn, the greasy hair hadn't been washed in a while.
Loud honking from outside. "Damn, I've taken a shit! Can't you wait?" Edward shouted. He wiped his hands on the dirty cloth stuck in his pants. Washing hands was for sissies in the city. He entered the yard of his gas station.
Hehehe, he knew the dirty truck that was parked there at the gas pump. "Pete's services of all kinds" was written on the door. And Pete Jr. was hanging in the cab with a visible bulge. "Eddy, don't you always promise the best service at your gas station?" said Pete with a grin. Ed spat out the chewing tobacco and licked his lips. "Go ahead, gas station attendant. The belt buckle won't undo itself!"
Full service and guaranteed customer satisfaction. That's what Ed's gas station was famous for.
#male tf#muscle tf#reality change#male transformation#muscle transformation#redneck tf#age reduction#white to blue collar tf#ai image#mullet
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