Latest Posts by morsartis - Page 2

Miscommunication

Gamzee x Standoffish!Reader

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Life wasn’t always kind, it didn't wait for people to catch their breaths, it didn't let you get used to what it threw at you, and it certainly never slowed down. Life had taught you the best thing to do was to meet it halfway and keep trudging. You had built a calloused exterior over time to deal  with it. The sort of exterior that pushed people away because you couldn’t bring yourself to accept a hand held out in your direction. There was always some clause, some string, attached and you’d be damned before you fell for it. So for all of life’s pitfalls you’d hardened yourself against the potential. It worked as long as you didn’t count all the people you never meant to rub wrong- which you rarely did. If people were meant to be in your life they'd chip away at the walls you'd been steadfast in reinforcing, though you could admit to yourself you often made it far harder for people than you meant to. A small sacrifice for protection against getting hurt again.

Or so you had told yourself.

You’d been happy to be a prickly douche to whoever so much as looked at you for too long, snapping and glaring at every little thing life threw at you, and then you'd met Gamzee. The most spaced out, laid back motherfucker you had ever seen. Nothing fazed the troll. No barbed comment, no sneered look, no potential fight. It was as if he lived in a perpetual bubble of chill and good peace. After awhile it seemed almost cruel on your end to be mean to him at all. You’d been looking for a roommate to share your apartment with- rent was getting tighter each day and you knew it was only a matter of time before a check finally bounced- and Gamzee had simply made himself right at home. 

You had wanted an Alternian roommate specifically to guarantee they’d mind their business so you could mind yours. Too bad Gamzee never got that memo. Or maybe he had and simply ignored it. Just like he’d ignored your attempts to make him leave you alone and stop letting himself into your room to “hang” or sprawling along the couch to be in your personal bubble. No matter how many times you snapped and snarled and attempted to get him to do as everyone else did and fuck off he had remained. In fact the more you tried to scare him off the more he seemed to make himself right at home. It completely baffled you at first as to why you couldn't make him leave and then slowly you had begun to accept it. 

Begrudgingly and with the same level of discomfort as someone having their teeth pulled. 

That seemed to be all Gamzee needed to get truly comfortable. The minute you had begun to see Gamzee as a friend and start to open up to the clown he’d dug his claws in with all the glee of a child refusing to let go of a beloved toy. He invited you everywhere with him, sometimes not even waiting for an answer. You had thought it the desperate actions of a quadrantless troll- until he finally introduced you to his “palest of diamonds”. Karkat was like looking in a fucked up funhouse mirror. The two of you snapping at each other and pushing away in all the similar ways. It was no wonder Gamzee had seemed so comfortable with you. He had a type! And apparently you fit the bill. It had taken much longer for you and Karkat to get acquainted than it had with Gamzee but when you did it was clear the clown had used the same tactics he was using on you now to get Karkat as his moirail. 

A complete and utter disregard for your stubborn and standoffish nature. 

Though according to Karkat your long term roommate had a dark side, one you hadn’t seen and was hard to believe, but sometimes you thought you caught glimpses of it when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Calculating lucidity that would flicker in his otherwise stoned and glazed over eyes. It was easy to dismiss. 

But today you were reconsidering that dismissal. 

It had started out all the same. You’d had the day off work and had taken to lounging on the couch with your phone using the TV as background noise. Whatever conversation you had started out having with one of your few friends had devolved into archaic memes and had long abandoned coherence a good fifteen minutes or so ago. Gamzee would be home soon, you had memorized his schedule out of necessity from the times he’d wandered into the bathroom to grab some of his things while you had been showering. The mortification had been brutal and your landlord had banned changing the locks in the apartment for reasons lost to you. So the bathroom lock remained broken and you had memorized Gamzee’s schedule as a consequence. Since then there had been no mortifying bathroom mishaps. Not that Gamzee had seemed bothered at any point, he hadn’t been creepy about it either, just grabbing his things as if you weren’t there at all. You weren’t sure whether to be grateful or concerned but had settled uneasily on grateful. Today was no different than any other when he got back. Humming and chuckling to himself as he shed off his jacket and left it on the floor when he came in- another losing battle with him- before wandering into the kitchen without a care in the world. It was as if he hadn’t even realized you were home as he rooted around in the fridge for what you assumed was faygo. The two of you would have to go grocery shopping sometime soon, food and drinks were getting low again. You could hear him shut the fridge with his hip and the soft hiss of carbonation as he unscrewed the lid on his soda and wandered into the living room where you were still curled up on the couch. For a moment neither of you said anything and then you could feel as his eyes slid to and over you. Again that rare lucid clarity came to his eyes in a brief flash before it was replaced by the ever present glaze as he smiled wide to see you. 

“Hey buddy! You all up and got the day off?”

“Yeah. Figured I’d just relax.”

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.” He was still smiling that crooked smile as he hooked one long leg over the top of the couch and began climbing over it. You watched mildly unbothered by whatever strange fancy had struck him now as you continued sharing memes on your phone with your friend. Unfortunately that was all the acceptance Gamzee needed to plop onto the couch and then flop directly on top of you.

“Gamzee what are you doing?” You asked calmly. Maybe a little bit tiredly knowing from the start that it was a losing battle. 

“I’m just gettin’ my cuddle on.” He replied cheerful as ever. One arm snaked underneath your back to wrap around you as he began slowly inching his way up your body to rest his head on your chest. He’d had the fortunate thought to tilt his head so you wouldn’t be gored by his long goat-like horns. But it didn’t stop him from snuggling himself closer. Sighing heavily you set your phone aside and wrapped an arm around his neck. 

“Didn’t we have a talk about this yesterday?”

“I dunno. Did we? I just wanna get my motherfuckin’ cuddles on. Feelin’ all sorts a clingy lately.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked curiously but Gamzee’s mind was clearly already drifting away as he snuggled into your hold. One of his hands dangled off the couch with the bottle of faygo and you hoped he wouldn’t drop it. It took forever to clean up and you’d just cleaned the rug not even three days ago. For a while the two of you just laid there, Gamzee’s ear twitching as he listened to your heartbeat. His clawed fingertips on the arm wrapped around you tapped what you figured must be the beat of your heart on your side. You were half asleep underneath him, the chilled weight of his body helping calm you, when he finally shifted. You glanced down at him and found his chin resting on your chest as he looked up at you. Again that lucidity had returned to his eyes as he watched you. 

And then the unthinkable happened. The thing that turned your thoughts on the clown upside down. 

He slid in closer and before you realized what he was doing he had pressed his lips to yours. The first thing you registered was that they were cold, the second thing had been the slick slide of the greasepaint he wore as his mouth moved against yours, and the third was the way he was still staring at you. His eyes were still open, still watching, as he pressed his mouth to yours insistently. Your sound of confused surprise was muffled as he shifted his head just so and his tongue licked across the meat of your bottom lip. Eyes wide and shocked you tensed and he nipped lightly at your mouth before pulling away a more smug smile on his face. 

“You taste like popsicles.” He told you voice pitched strangely. Swallowing nervously you struggled to find words to even say to him. 

“Gamzee?”

“Hm?”

“What the hell was that for?” You hated how meek you sounded but the shock had been too great. He’d never even given you an inclination he saw you as anything more than a good friend.

“A motherfucker can’t just all up and kiss his matesprit?” He asked, clearly confused. 

“Your what?” 

His eyes suddenly went as wide as yours, a startling look on his face as he seemed to struggle to keep them open most of the time. 

“Oh shit.” He breathed, “I forgot to ask you.”

Okay okay but consider a fic about Gamzees s/o thats really tough and standoffish but is only soft around Gamzee. Bonus points for cuddles.

Well after far too long its finally done! I only rewrote the entire thing seven times because I felt I didn't do it any justice lol. But it's posted now! I hope you enjoy it anon!

Got some stuff planned for the 413 month but work and life are gaining up on me. But I will do my best to get as much posted and written as I can when I get the chance! Be ready for the occasional spam of fics!

YES YES MARCH HALLOWEEN POST HOW IVE MISSED YOU

Comfort

Somewhere you could hear distant music, the notes soft and faint to the point you could delude yourself into thinking it was only in your head. The music coupled with the open window and the gentle breeze that would sway through your curtains created a sort of softness to the atmosphere. Or maybe it was the lethargy caused by the summer heat. You could never be too sure on that one. Laying on your bed you continued to lazily card your fingers through soft white curls. He’d fallen asleep some time ago and you were pleased to know he was getting any decent sleep at all. His weight was a comfort, head pillowed slightly below your chest and one arm wrapped underneath you around your waist. Had someone told you he was cuddly you might have laughed, but in a way it made a strange sort of sense. He was a twin after all, once upon a time he’d been so close to another as to share the same womb. You wondered if that was a thing with twins, if they’d spend their whole lives craving that sort of closeness with somebody. 

It had to be lonely if so. 

Your eyes drifted to your ceiling, the stars you’d placed there sometime in your youth when things were simple and you had yearned for the vastness of space to swallow you whole. Even pain, even suffering, had seemed simple then. But that had been long ago and you would never know how to explain to that younger self of yours what had led to your current situation. You couldn’t really explain it to anyone at all. Nails lightly scratching along his scalp you tried to recall when this closeness the two of you had had started but that moment was a blur amongst soft niceness you’d shown him since you had known him. It was in your nature to be kind and you had long stopped trying to deny yourself the urge to tend to others. Just as it had been in your nature to be cruel so that you could not be hurt. 

In his sleep Pietro shifted, tightening his hold. A freed hand shimmied under your body, curling loosely around a shoulder blade, before he settled. Wrapping an arm over the lean expanse of his back you let him curl close and intimate. Despite the intimacy there was no desire there. No lust. Just a warmth from the unspoken trust between you. In all the time you had known him he had been a friend and an enemy and a companion. A myriad of complicated truths and history between the two of you. 

An old friend.

Watching him now in his vulnerable sleep your eyes found the scars that peeked from underneath his shirt. The faded burns of hateful fire, the jagged scratches of war, and the stinging straight slashes of betrayal. When you had first tried to know him he’d been wild-eyed with stolen youth. Expecting a knife in the back that you never gave. He was cruel then, cruel in his suffering for fear of much the same. You had your moments of cruelty too back then. Time and experience had curbed that cruelty and dulled it with compassion and melancholy. He carried with him a great never ending sadness behind quick wit and sharp barbs. Once, when he’d been vulnerable and you had simply been there he spoke of a community afraid to love him in fear he’d be snatched from them. Of a time and place where his differences didn’t just affect him but his entire family. How he strived to embrace his own culture with the hope it would be brave enough to embrace him back. The fear his mother had, his aunt you would learn but she had always been his mother in his eyes, that he would be taken from her simply because he looked different than what the world thought the Roma should look like. That one day someone would snatch her own child from her and claim he’d been stolen from them instead. You would have liked to claim that you’d had an intelligent reply to that confession but you’d been younger then and newer to the world- suffered in different ways to the man that would become your friend- all you had been able to do was listen and offer him a hand to hold. Miraculously that had seemed to be enough for a while. You had educated yourself after that, made a better effort to understand so that he wouldn’t have to explain at every turn. 

Perhaps that had been a turning point between the two of you, one of many. A genuine attempt at understanding him when he felt isolated. Or perhaps that had been a mere moment and the turning point had been something else. Either way you had gotten to know him and he in turn had gotten to know you. Despite the terrible things you were both capable of, despite the way you had both hurt each other at times, despite every hurtle and thorn and fight between the two of you somehow you had managed to hold onto each other. You would never be sure if the way you wordlessly let him in and out of your life was healthy, if the hurt between the two of you ran deeper than either of you were comfortable admitting, but you had your moments. Moments as soft as this where the two of you were simply people. Simply seeking comfort. You could live with that. With knowing that Pietro found comfort when he needed it not just from his sister but from a friend. 

Even at your most terrible you had never denied him that. Even at his. Maybe that made you foolish, but you couldn’t deny that it could be sweet. Rubbing a hand over his back you closed your eyes, letting the afternoon heat lull you. In your bones you knew something would call him away, that some disaster or world altering tragedy would ask for him, demand his help in blood. But for the moment it was you and him in the safety of your childhood bed, a moment suspended in time and softness. For now there was the surety of comfort, the steady weight on top of you and the warmth of skin. A togetherness you rarely shared with anyone else. 

For now that was enough.

ur government assigned gender for the day is the first thing u get when u click this link to a randomised wikipedia article. NO REROLLS . i am the  trollsteineggje mountain in norway

Rodimus x Professional!Reader Pt. 3

Warnings: This one is definitely smutty.

This is entirely from Rodimus POV.

Part 1- https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/712466508763299840/rodimus-x-professionalreader-pt-1?source=share

Part 2- https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/712534482204377088/rodimus-x-professionalreader-pt-2?source=share

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“Please let him know that if he fails to follow your direct orders again he will be transferred regardless.” His voice was cold. Far colder than he’d ever wanted to use with you. “I’ve transferred the documents to you for review. Good night.”

He left your quarters quickly after that, the anger on your behalf feeding into the possessive hunger seeing you in such a state had caused. If he had stayed longer he feared what he might do as it was Rodimus stumbled into his room in a daze, the sight of your pretty red panties seared into his mind along with a still lingering emotion of possessive rage. Did you even realize it was the same red as his paint? Did you wear the pair often? His mind jumped to the times he had to sit through boring meeting after boring meeting with you, had you been wearing those panties then? That bra? His fans kicked on at the thought. The mental image of you in the lacey fabric had him groaning in arousal. He knew it was wrong, that he shouldn’t, but his hand found his interface panel latch without a thought and soon his spike was pressurizing at a near alarming rate. Servos wrapped around the base of his spike Rodimus hissed and sighed. He could see it in his mind’s optic, you bent over his desk while he was glossa deep inside you. Crying out for him so prettily, little pleas of ‘sir’ and ‘captain’ and ‘Rodimus’ falling from your lips. Mind too far gone to even worry about that sorry excuse for a commander. Those panties pooled around your ankles as your legs shook. You’d be so tight around his spike, he wasn’t even sure it’d fit. Just the tip might be all your body could take and it was that thought that had his hips jerking in arousal. Would he have to fuck you in his holoform? Would you like his holoform? He’d used it so rarely but when he had humans had seemed to think he was attractive. Attractive enough to hit on at least. He bit down on his lip to stifle a particularly loud groan at the idea of his holoform fucking you in the backseat of his alt-mode like those old Earth movies liked to show. Your pretty valve- there was a human word for it but his mind was too far gone to come up with it- snug around his spike with your legs wrapped around his hips. The moan that left him at the thought of your eyes all teary and hazy from lust and pleasure bordered on pornographic. Would you claw at his back? Beg him to fuck you against his own seats? Rodimus turned his optics back online abruptly realizing he was still leaning against the door of his room jerking his spike like an adolescent sparkling having their first dirty fantasy. Venting erratically Rodimus shuffled towards his berth and flopped down on it. Propping one leg on the berth and the other on the floor he let his helm fling back against it with a clang. Servos finding his spike again offlined his optics to the thought of you riding his holoform, still wearing those panties and bra. The panties had been pulled to the side so he could thrust his spike into you and the bra had been pushed up so he could mouth at your chest. He could taste the sweat on your skin, feel the burn in his scalp when you tugged his holoform’s hair. A new thought came to him unbidden as his overload neared. The fantasy changing to him watching you shamelessly rut against his spike like an animal in heat. His spike is big enough you’re able to wrap your thighs around it for leverage and the pressure and feel of your skin against his spike has his hips stuttering. You mouth at his tip, sucking and licking like its all you can fixate on as your body grinds and grinds and grinds against his spike. Your eyes meet his as you swallow what little of his spike you’re able to and start humping his spike hard and fast. Its over as quickly as it began. Rodimus overloads all over his own servos and hand your name barely bitten back as his hips undulate of their own accord. Even his valve gives a gush of transfluid as it throbs with want. His entire body seems to spark with that arousal. He’s still ridiculously turned on but the fantasies his mind wants to feed him now are far worse than his previous indulgence. He locks them away quickly, never to see the light of day again.

Rodimus x Professional!Reader Pt. 2

Warnings: Kinda smutty?? Possessive feelings.

This is from Rodimus POV.

Part 1- https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/712466508763299840/rodimus-x-professionalreader-pt-1?source=share

Part 2- Here

Part 3- https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/712534804211662848/rodimus-x-professionalreader-pt-3?source=share

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Rodimus liked to think he’d done well in getting close to his human liaison, especially after what had happened with Commander Hennis when the humans had first come aboard the Lost Light. She had been a well respected woman, no nonsense, she had reminded him of Megatron in a way with her complete command over her crew and the clear experience she had had. It was a tragedy that he hadn’t had the time to get to know her the way her crew had before they were ambushed. She’d given her life to protect her crew and give them the chance to get away and in that chaos where her co-commander had floundered a new face had taken charge. You had been a bit of a nobody in the sense that while your crewmates knew you enough to be friendly you had faded into the background to follow orders. It was a little funny in a tragic kind of way to learn that you’d been part of a space program that was never supposed to see combat and had been put into Commander Hennis’ crew at her own request. He hadn’t had the chance yet to learn the story on that. But he had seen you rise up to take charge when everything had fallen into chaos. You used your own connections to the crew to help them first as a sympathetic shoulder and then as a voice of reason when it became clear that under Commander Jameson your crew would mutiny. Rodimus and Megatron had seen how Commander Jameson had been more concerned with humiliating challenges of authority than getting his own crew out of the firing line of your enemies, had seen you dutifully guide and assure your crew of a direction- taking suggestions and working to work with your crew as a unit instead of an outright authority. You had been the leader the crew had needed in the time of Commander Hennis’ passing. Which had made your promotion as the technical human captain and liaison to Rodimus obvious. 

Unfortunately Commander Jameson had disagreed. 

Rodimus hadn’t had much to say about the commander before your promotion. He was rude only in the way a former drill sergeant was, he wanted to be obeyed without question, but he also did his job to a remarkable degree. At least so long as you weren’t the one giving the orders. He argued and questioned you on everything and worst of all, you simply let him. Treating his complaints and questions as genuine no matter their absurdity. Your professionalism only served to anger the commander more as you failed to rise to the bait. It only proved their decision to promote you was the right one as your attitude towards Jameson had made the crew feel safe enough to approach you with concerns they felt were trivial. Sometimes they were, or other times they were genuine issues that wouldn’t have been caught had you not made yourself so open to your crew and the crew of the Lost Light. Despite not being a fan of overly professional types your warm demeanor had made it hard for Rodimus to hold any annoyance with you. You were no Ultra Magnus, which was for the better he supposed. Which made Commander Jameson’s constant complaints and accusations against you all the more annoying. Everything you did didn’t seem good enough to the man, he argued against your continued authority like Rodimus would change his mind just to prevent a further headache or fight. Instead it only made Rodimus all the more aware of you and your apparent inability to reprimand Commander Jameson’s insubordination. The more he argued with the commander the more he felt possessive of you. It had caught him by surprise at first, that swell of possessive fury when he’d walked in on the commander yet again arguing against some decision you made as you patiently explained yourself. He might have continued to keep out of it if he hadn’t noticed a tiny detail when the commander had finally stormed out to do his job, your hands were shaking. A fine tremble you hid by putting them in your lap and straightening your posture from where you sat at your desk, taking deep breaths in before releasing them slowly. When you’d opened your eyes, before you had noticed Rodimus was even standing there, you had looked exhausted and teary-eyed. All of it gone the minute you blinked and saw him standing there. That image had stuck with him like a plague as he continued to watch the commander make an ass of himself. 

Which was why he had already drawn up Commander Jameson’s transfer. Convincing Megatron to sign it had been laughably easy. All he had needed was your signature and then he wouldn’t have to fight the urge to wring the human’s neck. When he had heard the human crew was partying it up at Swerve’s he’d assumed you’d be with them. You liked to keep on friendly if still professional terms with them and if invited you had yet to turn the offer down, using it as a chance to ensure your crew got to their own quarters safely after drinking away their troubles. He hadn’t wanted to trouble you or potentially ruin your night with the documents and had simply planned to transfer and leave the documents in your quarters for when you eventually made your way back to your room to sleep.

Entering your room had been easy, as captain he had clear access to all rooms aboard the ship and that included his fellow captains. He didn’t even hear the water in the bathroom running as he made his way to where you had propped up your datapad. It was then that the bathroom door slid open and he was left to freeze where he was standing. Just like before you had that tired expression on your face, the only difference being a vague contentment you must have felt about heading towards your bed. At least until you finally saw him. You straightened up immediately, the flush to your cheeks caused by the heat of your shower draining away. Water trailed down your skin in distracting rivulets, the towel stopping at your upper thighs and pulled tight around your body. You’d begun clutching it like a life line as your eyes blew wide. 

“Captain!” You sounded breathless. Most likely from surprise but Rodimus couldn’t help the shiver that wanted to wrack through his frame. Heat pooled in his face as his fans kicked on faintly to cool him off. He knew his optics must have been blown wide. 

“I-,” His voicebox turned static as he attempted to ignore the way your towel left so little and yet so much to the imagination. “I didn’t realize you were here.” 

“I thought I’d get an early night, Sir.” Your voice was bashful and Rodimus was taken aback by the way his frame had heated at you calling him ‘sir’. Your eyes darted to the side and he watched as something akin to horror flashed quickly across your face before your eyes darted back to him involuntarily. His optics followed your line of sight and he froze, joints locking in place. There were your usual drab pajamas, he was more than familiar with them as you often wore them to bed and would come barreling out of your room in them should an emergency pop up that left you little time to dress. But that wasn’t what had made him freeze and lock up. No. It was what was on top of your standard sleepwear that had his mind going in multiple directions at once. His optics had seen the lacey set of panties first, a cute lace trim with mesh cutouts along the sides that would give someone an uninterrupted view of your thighs save for the lace, the cute little lace trim that made an almost guiding arrow to where your valve would be if you were wearing them. He meant to look away but had only succeeded in further short circuiting his brain when he saw the bra. It had the same lacey frills- though there was more volume to the frills than with the panties- down the front and he could see the rather cute bows that were stitched to the straps giving it the illusion you could unravel it and find-

Find-

Oh Primus. 

He knew his face must have been flushed, his fans barely able to cool him down as he couldn’t even tear his eyes away from the set. 

“Ahem,” You cleared your throat pointedly and he cursed himself mentally for staring, “Was there a particular reason you were coming into my quarters Captain?”

He straightened up so quickly it was a wonder his plating didn’t creak as his grip tightened on his holopad begging for strength. 

“Ah- yes. There was- well… Ahem. To be honest-,” He was stammering and he couldn’t stop. Looking at you wasn’t helping with the way the towel had slowly begun to slip and he was certain if you dropped it any restraint he thought he had would be gone. “I wanted your opinion on a transfer I’ve been considering.” 

“A transfer?”

“Yes. One of the humans here.”

Just like that you were back to being professional. Even still wearing nothing but a towel you managed to exude an air of control. Luckily for him just the thought of Commander Jameson was enough to kill any arousal he had for the situation. Though he wasn’t sure if the possessive annoyance that name evoked in relation to you was any better.

“May I ask the reason for transfer?”

“Insubordination.” He replied, unable to control the flat rage that Jameson had evoked in him.

“And the crewmember?” You asked. He wanted to scoff, it was obvious who he wanted to go. The rest of your crew had done well to integrate and even better to get along and follow orders. There was only one person it could have been and your apparent ignorance made that annoyance flare up all the more. 

“Commander Jameson.”

“What?” You asked the question clearly slipping out before you could stop it. Why were you so surprised?

“I think it would be best for both the crew and for Commander Jameson himself if he were placed with a different vessel.”

“My apologies then Captain, I had thought that Commander Jameson had been merely targeting me due to the promotional passover that occurred following Commander Hennis’ passing.I hadn’t a clue he’d been lashing out towards other higher-ups. Please allow me to talk with him and discuss these matters, I shall ensure he keeps his issues with the chain of command solely with me.” 

“That’s the problem!” Rodimus shouted, waving his arm through the air. You jumped. “He shouldn’t be treating you that way in the first place! You received the promotion because you earned it. Your crew would have been killed if you hadn’t made the calls you did and kept a level head. While Commander Jameson was too busy trying to prove himself you were putting in the actual work. You brought your crew together, you led them into action, you pulled them through that dark time. Not him! I am tired of hearing his baseless complaints about your leadership. You’ve gone above and beyond what was expected of you for the sake of your human crew and your cybertronian companions!” 

To his amazement he realized you were blushing, the flush traveling from your hairline down to your chest and Rodimus had to swallow back all the dangerous thoughts he wanted to voice at the sight. 

“I understand that Rodimus and I thank you for your conviction of my skills,” You replied soothingly, adjusting your hold on your towel, “However, I have a duty to my crew. Commander Jameson’s grievances are with me and me alone. Outside of that he has followed all his orders from other officers to a perfect T. Unless there are incidents I haven’t been informed of..?” You trailed off waiting for a reply. He hated the fact you were making a valid point, that he didn’t have a list of grievances a mile long to present to you other than his utter contempt towards the commander. 

“... No. He’s followed orders from other crew members well enough.” He admitted begrudgingly. You offered him a sincerely sympathetic smile that had the possessive feelings he was trying to valiantly to push down bubbling up like acid. 

“Then I owe him the chance to discuss options with me first before the call is made for him. If he wishes to transfer then I will be happy to have him transferred, but if he wishes to stay then that decision should be respected as well.”

He fought back the urge to scowl. If he had it his way Commander Jameson would be taking a surprise trip out of the nearest airlock. 

RB if you think CD drives in computers are not obsolete, but in fact still necessary, despite being artificially phased out

Rodimus x Professional!Reader Pt. 1

The first part is from Reader's POV and the second will be from Rodimus' POV.

Parts:

Part 2- https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/712534482204377088/rodimus-x-professionalreader-pt-2?source=share

Part 3- https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/712534804211662848/rodimus-x-professionalreader-pt-3?source=share

----

Hot water beat down on your back as you rested your head on the shower wall. Everything ached. From your toes to your scalp you felt like one massive bruise. It wasn’t uncommon for you to get back to your quarters feeling drained and tired. Ever since the Lost Light had taken on human crew members your hands had been full, especially following your commander's death. A day that still weighed something fierce on your heart. You’d had to step up- despite the fact that you hadn’t been next in line to lead at all. There had been too much panic, too much grief, and you had done what you had always done in the face of terrible personal tragedy and chaos. You’d buckled down and taken over. Somehow that had led to you being promoted as the human liaison to the captain of the Lost Light. It was an honor certainly but it was something you struggled with. All that responsibility on your shoulders, Commander Jameson had grown livid when the promotion had passed over him and went to you instead. His contempt and judgment was yet another thing that weighed you down. He made it clear that he had little to no respect for you or your new position. It had led to endless fights over the tiniest things that shouldn’t have been fights in the first place. 

Sighing heavily you blinked past the water running down your face. The need for actual running water on the Lost Light had been Commander Hennis’ first petition when you’d come aboard and after her death it had only been right for you to continue that petition. You were grateful for it. Slicking your hair back you took another moment to simply breathe. One deep breath in and then the slow exhale. Shutting off the spray you blindly reached for your towel. Wrapping the soft fluffy thing around yourself you relished its warmth as you stepped out of the tub and into the slightly cooler room. You cursed when you realized you’d left your sleep clothes on your bed. Stepping into the main portion of your room you froze, the blood draining from your face so quickly you almost felt light headed. Clutching the towel tightly to yourself you straightened up immediately. Shit, you were way too underdressed, your hair was still wet and tangled, you were wearing a towel. 

“Captain!” You resisted the urge to salute if only because you feared losing your towel. Rodimus froze, optics wide as he glanced down at you. Jesus, you could die of mortification. 

“I-,” His voicebox made an odd sound you could only describe as a radio dial, “I didn’t realize you were here.”

“I thought to get an early night, Sir.” Oh you just wanted to curl into a ball and die. This was so unprofessional. God, you even planned your own pajamas to be professional in case of an emergency. Why did he have to walk in now? Why did you forget your clothes on your bed? You glanced at your folded clothes and felt a new mortification rising when you realized you’d done like you usually did and placed your underwear on top. Your very nice, lacey, underwear that you rarely got the chance to wear and only decided to wear tonight to make yourself feel nice. As a secret little pick-me-up that only you would know about. The red stood out starkly against your grey sweats and space program t-shirt, the clothes far too professional to even consider what you might be wearing underneath. Even the sports bra you’d chosen was cute with its little lacey front and tiny decorative bow. As if sensing your mortification you could only observe in horror as Rodimus followed your gaze to the clothes you’d plainly laid out. If it were even possible it was as if he froze and locked up more than previously. 

Was- was he blushing?! 

Your face was officially on fire you were simply going to kill yourself. Anything to escape the mortification. Your co-captain, your liaison partner, knew what you were going to wear to bed and he’d been around human culture long enough to understand exactly why you might have been embarrassed. Grasping at straws like it was all you could do, you tried to regain control of the situation. 

“Ahem,” You cleared your throat drawing his attention back to you, “Was there a particular reason you were coming into my quarters Captain?” 

Rodimus straightened up quickly his grip on his holopad tightening. 

“Ah- yes. There was- well… Ahem. To be honest-,” He was stammering, god you were never going to live down the embarrassment, “I wanted your opinion on a transfer I’ve been considering.” 

“A transfer?”

“Yes. One of the humans here.”

That wiped the embarrassment straight from your system. Technically Rodimus could transfer whoever he wished at any point so long as Megatron signed off on said transfer. It had been an unspoken rule since Commander Hennis’ and since your own tenure that all human transfers were to be decided by the human liaison. For Rodimus to even consider transferring a human without giving the full reigns to you must have been serious. 

“May I ask the reason for transfer?”

“Insubordination.” The way he said it left little room to question. His voice was grave and serious in a way you rarely heard from your usually compassionate companion. Clearly this was not a decision he had made lightly. 

“And the crewmember?” You asked after a moment when it became clear he was not going to elaborate. 

“Commander Jameson.” 

“What?” You asked the question slipping out before you could help it. To say you were shocked was an understatement. You had thought that Commander Jameson had been wise enough to keep his displeasure and insubordination pointed towards you and you only. 

“I think it would be best for both the crew and for Commander Jameson himself if he were placed with a different vessel.” 

“My apologies then Captain, I had thought that Commander Jameson had merely been targeting me due to the promotional passover that occurred following Commander Hennis’ passing. I hadn’t a clue that he’d been lashing out towards other higher-ups. Please allow me to talk to him and discuss these matters, I shall ensure he keeps his issues with the chain of command solely with me.” 

“That’s the problem!” Rodimus shouted, waving his arm through the air. You jumped. “He shouldn’t be treating you that way in the first place! You received the promotion because you earned it. Your crew would have been killed if you hadn’t made the calls you did and kept a level head. While Commander Jameson was too busy trying to prove himself you were putting in the actual work. You brought your crew together, you led them into action, you pulled them through that dark time. Not him! I am tired of hearing his baseless complaints about your leadership. You’ve gone above and beyond what was expected of you for the sake of your human crew and your cybertronian companions!” 

You could feel the flush traveling from your cheeks all the way to your shoulders the flattery soothing a sore spot you had been nursing for a while now. But still, despite Jameson’s clear dislike of you, you had a duty to him as his superior. 

“I understand that Rodimus and I thank you for your conviction of my skills,” You replied soothingly, adjusting your hold on your towel, “However, I have a duty to my crew. Commander Jameson’s grievances are with me and me alone. Outside of that he has followed all his orders from other officers to a perfect T. Unless there are incidents I haven’t been informed of..?” You trailed off waiting for a reply. 

“... No. He’s followed orders from other crew members well enough.” Rodimus admitted begrudgingly. You offered him a sincerely sympathetic smile. 

“Then I owe him the chance to discuss options with me first before the call is made for him. If he wishes to transfer then I will be happy to have him transferred, but if he wishes to stay then that decision should be respected as well.”

That was clearly not what he wanted to hear. Rodimus’ expression turned stony, every bit the captain he had to be instead of the mech you had gotten to know. 

“Please let him know that if he fails to follow your direct orders again he will be transferred regardless.” His voice was cold, a sort of anger that sent chills down your spine. You’d never heard anything like it. From Megatron you might have been able to keep the surprise off your face but from Rodimus? The change was too intense not to show your shock. “I’ve transferred the documents to you for review. Good night.” 

Just like that he was gone leaving you standing there shivering from the cold in your towel wondering what had gotten into the normally sunny optimistic mech. Swallowing nervously you shuffled towards your pajamas and got dressed. Everything would have to wait until the morning but already anxiety was beginning to set in. What would you do about this? What could be done to fix it? If you didn’t know him so well by now you would have thought Rodimus was angry with you, but you knew that despite what had happened his anger was directed towards Jameson. With a deep breath you sat on your bed and tried to relax. You’d get this sorted out just like you always did. It would be fine. And then you could talk with Rodimus about why it had upset him the way it did.

Compliment Part 2

Peter Maximoff x Reader

Tagged: @floraroselaughter

It’d been weeks since your rather awkward encounter with Peter, well maybe awkward wasn’t the right word for it. Hindsight had been a bit of an eye opener for you after that day and you had spent that time growing more and more embarrassed with yourself. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of it, not at all, in fact it was more the urge to keep doing it that had caught you off guard. Watching Peter the way you liked to do had revealed he didn’t have many friends and certainly even less compliments. Your one off handed compliment had seemed to brighten his week and as you watched him revert back to his old self you couldn’t help but feel… Sad. Everyone deserved compliments. While you yourself hadn’t been on the receiving end of many compliments that didn’t mean others weren’t deserving of them. Your mother had drilled into your head to be the change you wanted to see in the world and mostly you just wished people were kinder to each other. Especially with all this mutant nonsense that seemed to be cropping up. Perhaps you were tenderhearted with your belief that one should do unto others as they’d wish others would do unto them, perhaps you were overly optimistic in the hope that humans and mutants could coexist. You weren’t sure. 

But you did know that you liked seeing others happy. 

After having worked yourself into an embarrassed mess over the compliment a few weeks ago it took you some time to work up the courage to try it again. This time however you took your time formulating the compliment you wanted to give. It’d be something small, insignificant to most, but something only someone who was watching might think to give. Arguably you knew he was self conscious of certain things. It was quite obvious in the way he acted what made him jittery. So there you were in your shared class with your chin in your palm as the teacher droned on in the background. Peter seemed to be developing heterochromia in his eyes, that pale blue ring to them more visible now than before. But you had already complimented them. You didn’t want to come off as a broken record. Instead you had zeroed in on his hair. Years of watching your mother straighten her own hair had given you a clue what natural straight hair and ironed straight hair looked like. As track season had begun and Peter had taken to it you’d noticed that his hair had gotten almost curly at the roots. Why he’d hide such a thing didn’t make sense to you but you figured that was just something he did. His eyes darted to your own and he tensed clearly not expecting you to be watching, giving him a warm smile you hummed to yourself in thought. The smile was what made him pause. His lips parted to speak and you were reminded that he also had nice lips. They looked soft despite most likely being chapped. Kissable. That particular thought was set aside for later. 

“You’d look nice with curly hair.” You spoke, interrupting him before he could speak himself. The soft incessant tapping of his foot paused. For a moment he merely stared back at you. He blinked the words setting in slowly. But just like the last time you complimented him that barely there blush threatened to rise to his cheeks. His face was more round than other boys, betraying a youth that hadn’t yet left him in favor of puberty. He cleared his throat after a moment, eyes darting nervously around the room to see if anyone had heard or was paying any attention. Or perhaps he was looking to see if you’d been set up by someone. That thought rather hurt. 

“I look weird with curly hair.” He mumbled after a moment. His hand scrubbed over his face and you couldn’t help but smile a little more. 

“I think you’d look handsome.” You shrugged. To your fascination that blush deepened, his face reddened in such a way that you could clearly see the pink. Those interesting eyes darted between you and somewhere off to the side as if trying to think of something to say. Something to refute your claim. But you continued to gaze at him with a warm smile. 

“You have nice lips.” He blurted out your eyes widened the same time his did. That blush now a bright flaming unmistakable red as he ducked his head. “Fuck.” He hissed to himself. 

Huh. You thought past the embarrassment. You tried not to immediately deny the compliment as sudden as it was. Had he been staring too? Your face felt warm as your smile curled a little at the edges with the heat. Going more crooked as the embarrassment set in. Taking a steady breath you willed your voice not to crack. 

“Thanks.” Your voice swelled with that bashful feeling threatening to overwhelm you. Gnawing on your cheek you glanced away. When you glanced back you found him staring right at you, some strange expression on his face you couldn’t place. Unsure of yourself you shuffled nervously in your seat. Strangely enough you could have sworn you saw his pupils dilate but that was silly. 

He cleared his throat suddenly and flipped erratically through the book you were supposed to be reading for your class. Taking that as your cue you opened your own book and flipped to where you’d marked the pages. Self consciously your fingers trailed to your lips. You couldn’t help but let out a silent huff of amusement at what an awkward pair the two of you must have made. As the teacher continued to talk you glanced shyly back up at him and found his eyes. 

“I like your jacket too. It’s cute.” 

He shuffled around in his seat, teeth digging into his lower lip. A pretty deer in headlights. 

“I like the little hearts you doodle in your notebook.” He blurted and then flushed red yet again. It was clear he hadn’t meant to say that either. The confession caught you off guard, you didn’t think anyone noticed the little absentminded doodles you drew when you were struggling to focus. Much less noticed enough to realize what they were. Which meant that somehow Peter had been watching you like you had been watching him. All without you having noticed at all. The heat in your face returned but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. 

“You do?” You asked, unable to hide the bashful tone of your voice. Those wide eyes skittered across your face and you wondered what he could possibly be thinking. 

“Yeah.” He answered plainly. “They, uh, they’re cute. I mean…” He trailed off clearly trying to think of something to say and grasping at straws. Taking pity on him and on yourself you found yourself stretching your leg out to rest your ankle against his. The featherlight touch had his foot immediately stilling, freezing him momentarily in place before he swallowed so hard his adam’s apple visibly jumped. 

“Thank you.” You told him genuinely. It was strange how that was the compliment that caught you the most. An unwitting admittance to being perceived by someone else. You had gone to pull your leg from his when his leg suddenly twisted to lock yours into place. Shifting so that the back of your ankle was pressed against the front of his. A new, surprising, development. Did Peter… Like touch? Did he want it? In all your time observing him you hadn’t noticed a preference for or against it. But if he wanted touch… You forced your leg to relax against his. Letting it rest there as if it were the most natural thing in the world as you turned back to your book. For the rest of the class period the two of you stayed like that. Ankles locked together harmlessly under your desks.

Me on my way to post some stuff I've been sitting on and decided to revamp after work.

No, Comrade Lesbian. We haul

Testing the Waters for something naughty

I recently thought about how the old Tumblr was friendlier to artists and writers of smut/erotic content, and how the community labels started to give some of it back to us.

While writers went scot-free all those years, for probably the simple reason, people would need to read the whole posts to get to the smut, things like Smut Sunday still died down.

I like to see if there is even any interest on something regular for writers AND artists of NSFW content.

With the power of polls, my ideas. If you are interested in something like this, please leave a comment, and we will see if something like this comes to life.

I don't want it to be like Flash Fic Friday or similar events with a limited timeframe. If anyone out there is like me, when writing smut you need to be in the mood for it, so we can think about events at a later date.

Please reblog to spread it far and wide.

Happiness Will Come To You.

Reblog if you’re a kind and friendly mun who likes to write violent and disturbing stuff...

Let’s see how many of us there are!

Fic Masterlist

Thought I'd make a masterlist of all the fandoms I write for and the fics I've done so far.

HOMESTUCK/FRIENDSIM/PESTERQUEST

Lanque Bombyx

Masochism Tango- https://at.tumblr.com/morsartis/masochism-tango/suzv9jm8j3az

Mallek Adalov

Victory Spoils- https://at.tumblr.com/morsartis/victory-spoils/152xtvm80nwp

Cirava Hermod

Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High?- https://at.tumblr.com/morsartis/whyd-you-only-call-me-when-youre-high/t0089xxv9lu2

Marvus Xoloto

Come Get Her- https://at.tumblr.com/morsartis/come-get-her/vizkenltfuz5

Lucky Shot- https://at.tumblr.com/morsartis/lucky-shot/x54inu5fasvs

Miss You- https://at.tumblr.com/morsartis/miss-you/ewen2twbm0y1

Lights Down Low- https://at.tumblr.com/morsartis/lights-down-low/ohj2wuzff6nj

Let's Link- https://at.tumblr.com/morsartis/lets-link/hx697kygcfoh

The Bets Are On- https://at.tumblr.com/morsartis/the-bets-are-on/918wjpbuivaf

That [Redacted]- https://at.tumblr.com/morsartis/that-redacted/bl3lkqf5sdoq

Built Like An Icecream Cone- https://at.tumblr.com/morsartis/built-like-an-ice-cream-cone/rigvlt2xspty

The Tweet Part 1- https://at.tumblr.com/morsartis/the-tweet-part-2/uqqt1es4h5n3

The Tweet Part 2- https://at.tumblr.com/morsartis/the-tweet-part-2/uqqt1es4h5n3

Marvus x Reader- https://at.tumblr.com/morsartis/marvus-xoloto-x-reader/rdan8fe7rxkv

Marvus Headcanons- https://at.tumblr.com/morsartis/hey-hey-i-would-like-to-req-some-headcanons-of/bg1acxxqi85p

Marvus Headcanons- https://at.tumblr.com/morsartis/hey-your-writing-was-awesome-ive-just/280001hqducz

Polypa Goezee

Together- https://at.tumblr.com/morsartis/together/08tzjvdvjasf

Polypa x Reader- https://at.tumblr.com/morsartis/polypa-goezee-x-reader/2c7odkvm2o2j

Tagora Gorjek

Tagora x Reader- https://at.tumblr.com/morsartis/tagora-gorjek-x-reader/653j7tepcqrf

X-MEN

Peter Maximoff

Compliment- https://at.tumblr.com/morsartis/compliment/08f2jjfpe3jj

Compliment Part 2- https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/712465236316372992/compliment-part-2?source=share

TMNT

HETALIA

MARVEL/MCU/616 COMICS

DC

TRANSFORMERS/MTMTE/CYBERVERSE

POKEMON

STAR TREK

BNHA/MHA

FNAF/SECURITY BREACH

LOTR

reblog to make your blog smell like cinnamon and warm brown sugar

Masochism Tango

TW: This is a caliginous relationship. If you only know friendsim then a basic warning is that a caliginous relationship is a relationship based on rivalry and categorized in alternian culture by ‘hate’ or ‘black romance’. Choking, strangulation (nonsexual), physical violence, hate sex, biting, blood, spitting, this plays out almost like non-con but it is an established relationship and both of you know what you’re doing, no safewords, implied aftercare but none is actually shown. This is 18+. 

“You know what Lanque?” You seethed as you continued marching further away from the party, “Why don’t you go fuck yourself?” Whatever mix of booze and red had been in the punch bowl was rapidly staining your shirt and causing it to stick grossly to your skin in a way that Lanque knew made your skin crawl. 

Lanque’s cold laughter was clearly rehearsed, the glint and expression practiced and poised. The fact he wasn’t as off his game or upset as you only made you angrier. He’d ruined your favorite top. One of the few articles of clothing you actually still had from earth. Destroyed because he had thrown his fucking punch on you. The fact you were clearly playing right into his hands was only fuel to the fire of your rapidly blooming hatred. 

“What’s the matter?” He sneered almost sweetly, “It was just an accident.” 

“Bullshit!” You snapped as you attempted to wring the worst of it out. 

“Really, you’re ridiculous. All this over an ugly shirt?”

“An ugly shirt? An ugly shirt?!” Your voice was raising and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Heat was spreading from your chest all the way to your face as that rage kept growing. It had been an awful week and this was the final tipping point for you. You’d nearly died- twice- the other day. All for trying to help some of your ‘friends’ out and now Lanque was going out of his way to make it even worse. 

“What’s the matter?” He asked in that same sickly arsenic tone, “Purrbeast got your tongue?”

“You son of a bitch.” You finally snapped, voice even and deadly. Tackling Lanque to the ground you swore bloody murder at him as you tried to choke him out. Hands wrapped tight enough around his neck, your nails were digging straight into his pallid grey flesh. He squinted up at you, blackened lips pulled into a snarling grin as he coughed. Removing one hand from his neck while using the other to keep him pinned, you pulled back and punched him as hard as you could in the face. His neck flexed under your palm as he sucked in a breath and then laughed in your face as his split lip began to bleed jade down his chin to stain the collar of the white button up he loved so much. Letting out a wordless shriek you reared back and punched him again, using the blood coating your knuckles to smear the dark liquid all over his covered chest. You hoped it’d be ruined, you hoped his blood would remain a blotch on the fabric to remind him of this night every time he had to look at it. How fucking dare he just waltz into your life to do things like this? To- to- exist to piss you off!

Snatching your wrists in a sudden move that caught you by surprise he rolled the two of you over until he was on top of you, pinning your arms above your head as he let our his own wordless cicada hiss of sound. His ears had pinned back, the yellow of his eyes gone orange as he flashed rainbow drinker bright at you. Despite the fact you knew you couldn’t fight him off you still struggled in his grip just to be a pain. Anything to make this harder for him. To frustrate him to the same degree he regularly frustrated you. Yanking your arms and thrashing until your arms throbbed with the promise of bruises and that deep rooted animalistic instinct he always seemed to tease to the surface began to simmer under your flesh. Breathing heavily you slowly relaxed in his hold as you waited for him to shift with the thought he’d won whatever little game he thought he was in control of. Meeting his eyes you refused to look away, the two of you staring each other down until his body began to untense ever so slightly. 

In a flash you lunged. 

Teeth clamping down hard and vicious on his lower lip you glared and yanked. He snarled, jerking back as the bitter taste of his blood filled your mouth. Troll blood had none of the coppery taste of human blood, instead it coated your tongue with a bitter thick quality that made you gag. Taking the opportunity for what it was you spit his own blood back into his face so you could bare your blunt human teeth like he liked to bare his fangs. 

He reared back a look of disgust flashing across his face. 

“You fucking bitch.” He snapped, finally thrown off guard and affronted. Your lips twisted into a sadistically pleased grin. The gritting of your teeth near audible at the satisfaction of finally getting him to crack. His eyes darted across your face, pupils slit in a way that was decidedly alien and pissed. Jade dripped hot and sticky from his chin to your face as he seemed to freeze in place. 

His lips crashed into your own using his tongue to force your mouth open and fill your tastebuds with the awful bitter taste of his blood. Your snarl of outraged disgust was muffled by his own mouth and the sharp points of his teeth slit into the soft meat of your own lips. When he pulled back to grin at you, mouth streaked red and jade you sneered up at him feeling every bit of the sharp burn that no doubt had red streaking your own face. Turning your head to the side you spit out the blood pooling in your mouth and attempted to shove him off of you. His hands slammed your arms back into the ground for the effort. Mouth finding yours again you nipped at his lips and scraped your tongue on the needle sharpness of his teeth as he sucked the blood from your mouth and face. The glide of his tongue barely lukewarm as it lapped at the smears of color. His throat worked to swallow the blood down as he groaned and licked his lips. 

“Sick fuck.” You scoffed. 

“Like you weren’t looking for an excuse to get me alone.” He purred legs already working to shove open your own. Swearing you attempted to wiggle away and accidentally ground your knee between his legs. His hips rocked into your own as he hissed. 

“Of course you get off on this.” You sneered.

“And you don’t?” He snapped rhetorically one hand releasing you to tug at your pants. Using his distraction to your advantage you grabbed hold of one of his horns and thrust upwards forcing him up and off you. He rolled and you were on your feet already sprinting further away from him. Behind you was the alien chittering shriek of rage. Of predator and prey as you fled and Lanque chased. The pounding of your heart jackhammering against your ribs as you did everything you could to keep the space between the two of you. There was only so much you could do as he began gaining, you’d never been a track star and even your time on Alternia could only aid you so much. It was a futile move but you’d be damned before you made any part of this easy for him. When he collided with your back the two of you went down hard. Spots danced in your vision as you let out yet another wordless scream of rage and struggled to get out from under him. Chest pinned to the ground you could hear him cursing up a storm as he yanked your arms back and began using his undone tie to bind your wrists. Kicking out with your legs you tried to nail him where it’d hurt but he only used his own weight to keep you pinned.

“Fuck you.” You snarled still trying to worm your way away from him. 

“You will be.” He replied darkly, every bit of pretentious prick back in his voice. You heard the distinct sound of his belt being undone, the clink of the buckle deafening in your straining ears. Sucking in a sharp breath between your teeth you hissed at the rough fabric burn of your own pants being yanked halfway down your thighs. More of that fury began to well up hot and fast as you realized how wet you actually were. You knew there had to be a wet spot on your panties as he yanked them down too exposing you to the humid Alternian night air. He’d wrangled your pants and underwear down to your knees before slamming into you roughly, no warning as his bulge speared you in one fluid motion. It was cold, barely lukewarm like the rest of him and it caused more of your fluid to gush out from the shock of it as your pussy burned from the abrupt stretch. He hissed in pleasure, tone bordering on a buzzing sound as he got used to the heat of you. You could picture the way his head was thrown back, teeth bared and chest heaving as he panted. His bulge writhed inside you and the air was punched from your lungs as it began ruthlessly teasing your insides with harsh pleasure. Each thrust of his hips meeting your ass rang loud and sharp mixing with the snarling growl next to your ear as he folded himself over you. He nipped at your ear and the sharp sting of his teeth reminded you exactly who was fucking you into the ground like an animal in heat. You knew there would be bruises, dark purples and sickly greens, a deep aching pain that was almost sweet in its pulsing throb. One arm hooked around your neck, pulling you just slightly off the ground as each rolling thrust of the cold bulge went deeper than any human cock. Grinding better than any toy as Lanque set a punishing pace. Your breaths came in choked off pants as the angle he had pulled you into made your hips press more firmly against the grass, the blades scratching against your clit. A moan worked its way past the tight muscles of your throat as you clenched around him, so close to falling over that edge, and then Lanque was ripping himself out of you and twisting you onto your back. You nearly squealed from surprise as your legs fell open at the abruptness- barely held in place by your pants still trapped around your ankles. Arms pinned beneath you it took an effort not to squirm in discomfort and give him the satisfaction. Above you Lanque snarled unseeingly at your pants preventing him from doing what he wanted. Grabbing them he tore them the rest of the way off your body, ripping your shoes off in the process.

You couldn’t stop the shout that left you as he yanked you up onto his thighs and thrust back into you hard and fast. A moan punched out of you as he rocked into you at that same brutal pace, practically humping into your cunt rather than pulling out to thrust. His hand found your throat. Fingers pressing to your pulse to hold you down rather than choke you out. 

A warning. 

Legs hooking around his waist you couldn’t stop the steady rocking of your own hips as your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head. You hated how fucking good it felt, how it practically made you melt. Thoughts fleeing from your head with each drag against your g-spot. His lips found your chin, teeth scraping against sensitive flesh before they found your lips again. Teeth teasing your clotting cuts until they began to bleed again. You opened your mouth wider letting the blood pool on your tongue so he could drink it up, tongue sliding against your own with desperation.

The sweet heat of orgasm began to rise once more and you moaned openly into his mouth as he pressed himself impossibly closer. 

This time he didn’t stop, humping against your clit as you shook and squealed through it. He groaned into the heat of your mouth pulling back as his hips worked to saw you in half and his low hitched breathing began to become more frequent. When he came you gave a shout at the sudden coldness popping inside you like a water balloon. Jade slurry staining your thighs and dripping into the grass. Gasping jaggedly you gave Lanque’s bulge one last squeeze that had him hissing out an Alternian swear as he pulled away. Your chests were heaving both of you still trembling and trying to come down from your highs. 

“Fuck.” Lanque sighed running a hand through his hair as he leaned back on his thighs. Jade dribbled down his splayed legs and you smirked condescendingly at the fact he’d cum with his nook too despite not having anything shoved up it. Something to bring up and dangle over his head later when you could think straight.

On break at work and I saw the most delicious image on my goddamn pinterest of a man in garter stockings and black panties and listen- listen- I will in fact be picturing my favorite men in that exact outfit. Like the Thoughts this gives me. Why am I at work? Why am I at work and unable to write about men in stockings and panties like. Genuinely what. This is bi/pan/homophobia. I want to write my little porn blurbs about some subs getting absolutely demolished. Where are my fics of pretty and masculine men crying and begging to get off while someone lovingly takes them apart piece by piece? I'm gonna babygirlify some grown ass men I swear to god.

“how’s the writing going?” i’m glad you asked! my room has never been cleaner and i’ve decided to take up baking

I have a one shot or two to post after work today so wish me luck on getting home in time to do anything more than crash face first into the nearest soft object for some much needed sleep.

Also im considering adding more to my Fandom list and finally creating my "don't write" list after receiving a very... interesting... ask. Imma be real honest I didn't know that was a kink and I'm the first to admit I'm into some weird shit. So congrats to that person for completely blindsiding me with that reality! Sorry I can't fill your request but good luck in finding someone willing. I'm sure they've gotta be out there!

Victory Spoils

Mallek Adalov x Male!Reader

When you made this bet you had phrased it as a half joke. Nothing serious, easily waved off as two immature idiots having a go at each other. A ‘winner takes all’ type of deal, hell you figured Mallek would forget the original bet after a few rounds. 

Empty chip bags littered the ground, their shiny surfaces only illuminated by the glow of the TV as Mallek destroyed you at COD. You were half convinced he was cheating, Call of Duty wasn’t even an Alternian game. That was why you’d picked it. In all your years on Alternia you hadn’t found a single troll equivalent that wasn’t flarping. Which- terrifying honestly. With troll’s propensity for violence you figured COD would have had its debut on a planet like this. But it hadn’t and so you had ignorantly assumed this would be the game you’d beat Mallek at. 

“There is no possible way you aren’t cheating!” You shouted barely maintaining your grip on the controller not to throw it across the room as you threw your arms in the air. How was he this good at it? He had to be cheating there was no way-

“Maybe you just suck at this dude.” He shrugged teasingly, a grin spreading across his face as you spluttered indignantly. 

Glaring up at him from where you’d taken the floor and a pillow to get comfy you only grew more enraged by his clear enjoyment of your loss. 

“Bullshit! How are you good at this?! COD isn’t even on Alternia!”

“Ha!” He laughed, “You call this ‘COD’? That = ridiculous. Start the next round.” 

“Oh fuck you.” You snapped turning back to the screen. With your back to him you missed the way Mallek seemed to zero in on the game with a single minded focus that would have been terrifying to be on the receiving end of. You had no idea what you’d just dangled in front of him with your bet, and how could you? He’d been nothing but careful in making sure you had no idea. 

You were his robobuddy after all.

He’d entertained round after round of this game, ruthlessly tearing through enemies in a way that would have brought a tear of pride to The Empress herself. In the beginning he’d briefly entertained the thought of letting you win a round or two, just to prolong the inevitable, but it died in the face of your clear indignation at being thwarted in your own playing field. Now he was simply driving the losses home with each and every win he stacked up. 

Groaning in defeat you tossed the controller aside. The bet entirely forgotten as you grumbled and pouted to no one in particular. 

“Damn. I guess I’ll have to find another game to beat you at, huh Mallek?” You hummed, regaining some of your cheer as you stood and stretched out your back. It popped satisfyingly as you bent yourself nearly in half. Behind you Mallek was unusually silent.

“Mallek?” You questioned turning towards him in concern. In a flash you found yourself pinned under him to the couch. 

“I win.” He hummed, settling himself between your legs contentedly. Stretching himself out like a snake as he got comfortable you could only blink up at him in momentary confusion.

“Uh, yeah..?”

Mallek’s smile was snake-like as he stared down at you and it took more strength of will than you were comfortable with not to shift in arousal. God you hoped you weren’t about to pop a boner that would be beyond awkward. You felt like prey and not in the scary ‘you’re going to die way’ either. He settled further on top of you, arms bracketing your head as he continued staring. Swallowing thickly you found yourself staring back at him. 

“Remember your little bet?” He asked leaning down further, it took a minute for your brain to catch up. Breath caught in your lungs and eyes wide you attempted to back up only to realize how futile it was when you were already pressed into the couch. 

“Oh-,” There were about fifty excuses you could think of off the top of your head.

Every last one of them fled the minute Mallek said those next little words that sealed your fate completely. 

“I’m gonna own you.” 

Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High?

In the warmth and safety of your bed you tried to ignore the way your phone was buzzing lost in the sheets. You had decided to stay home for once instead of letting your friends rope you into going to some party you didn’t want to be miserable at. Instead you’d enjoyed some alone time and crawled into bed as it had grown darker outside. Being home, on Earth, was still a surreal experience for you. But after the destruction of Alternia and the mass exodus of trolls fleeing the carnage you had slowly tried to come to terms with it. Which all yet again led to your predicament. Again your phone buzzed and giving into demands you picked it up and checked your messages. 

Most of them were pictures of the party you had declined to go to, all from Cirava. Scrolling mindlessly through them you paused on his last few texts. 

‘Where are you lmao’

‘Thought I saw you sneak out carrying your shoes’

‘I still need those back btw lol’

Sighing heavily you already knew the guy was higher than a damn kite. He usually was when he deigned to go to parties and if you weren’t with him he had a tendency to pull shit like this. Another message pinged through.

‘Must have been dreaming of bumping into you or something lmao’

It could have been a sweet compliment. Unfortunately things were never that simple. Letting the phone slip out of your grasp and back onto the bed you rolled over and tried to get some sleep. You’d managed to doze for a short bit before your phone began to buzz more insistently. Groaning in frustration you snatched it from your side and squinted angrily at the photoshopped image of Cirava on a moisturewave background. Rolling your eyes you hit decline on the call. Just as soon as you had done so the phone lit up again with his caller ID. Hitting decline again you checked the time and felt another swell of annoyance. 

‘Its 3 AM Cirava’

‘I’m tryna change your mind lmao’

‘Why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ 

Letting the phone fall onto your chest you tried to take a deep breath. He was just high and lonely. You didn’t want to be cruel but it was truthful, he really only called you when he was high. Always trying to talk you into something or another but tonight you were going to stay home and ignore it. You could apologize in the morning but not now, not tonight. Again your phone rang and in a fit of frustration you finally answered it, cutting Cirava off mid greeting. 

“Hi.” You replied flatly, “Why’d you only call me when you’re high?” 

“Lemme get somewhere darker.” He shouted over the music in the background, you knew he was only going to talk the same shit he always did. “I need a partner.” 

You sighed, doubting he could hear it over the noise. 

“Well, are you out tonight?” He continued. 

“Cirava its getting harder and harder to get you to listen, you know that right?” 

“What?” He shouted clearly not having heard you. 

“You’re incapable of making alright decisions, always having bad ideas.” 

“Its only three in the morning,” He scoffed, “and I’m tryin’ to change your mind.” 

You stayed silent. Frustration was back along with old hurt. 

“I left you multiple missed calls-,”

Unable to stand it anymore you cut him off.

“Why’d you only call me when you’re high?” You asked. Maybe it was the hurt talking or maybe you still wanted a genuine answer. Either way you knew you wouldn’t get one. For a moment the other side of the line was silent and you wondered if he’d hung up on you. 

“I can’t see you here.” He spoke, voice surprisingly subdued, “ Wonderin’ where I am.” 

What was that supposed to mean? Did he like jerking you around for his own amusement?

“It sort of feels like I’m runnin’ out of time.” He sighed, you could hear the rustle of fabric and realized abruptly that it was silent on the other side, “I haven’t found all I was hoping to find.” 

“Cirava-,”

“I know you said you gotta be up early in the morning, ‘gotta have an early night’, but I’m worried I’m startin’ to bore you, baby.” The use of the human pet name had you on edge. Cirava rarely bothered to use it. 

“Then call me when you’re no longer high.” You replied softer than you’d like. 

You knew he wouldn’t. 

He only called you when he was high. 

IT WASNT A JOKE??? THEY LIFTED THE BAN??? I HAVE SO MUCH TO POST NOW.

how y’all feelin

reblog to beat the joker to death

Anyone else watch the new ROTTMNT movie on netflix? Because I think I just got forcibly booted back into an old hyperfixation. My childhood crush on Raphael returns with a vengeance. I am still working on requests but I might post some old works I have for TMNT in the meantime.

Vent post not something I usually do but I can't really talk about it with my family so I might as well jettison it out into the gaping maw of the internet.

I'm... happy to be adopted. I really truly am. I'm lucky to have the second chance at life I was given even if it came with its own issues. I'm painfully aware of how easily I could have become a statistic. I don't miss my blood family at all and they certainly don't miss me.

It doesn't mean I don't wish I could have someone to ask questions. Finding diagnosis for my mental health, being in and out of all kinds of therapy, being asked over and over again if there's any genetic history of mental disorders. I can't answer that. I couldn't tell you. My half brother had adhd and went off his meds before I was born. My mother claimed she had bipolar disorder once upon a time. But I have to take that with a grain of salt because I couldn't tell anyone if that was the excuse to hide the symptoms of her drug addiction or if the drug addiction was a symptom of her trying to self medicate her bipolar disorder.

How do you explain that the signs of a family at full mental decay are there but you're so far removed, that the situations of your childhood and the existing structure of your entire blood family are so toxic you couldn't tell a rumor or an insult from the truth?

My adoptive family has pictures dating back to the Victorian era. Thousands of beautiful connections to their family history. Windows into where what came from. Who passed down the nose or the eyes or the smile. I look at them and the history I was taken into but not apart of and I just.

I can only say that I grew up starving, digging through trash for food, that I am missing chunks from my childhood memories that speak of horrors I don't know whether to be grateful not to remember or devastated to be left with the symptoms and no root cause to address. I grew up not so much raising myself but trying to survive in the most basic ways. I just.

I want to know what's wrong with me so I can help myself in the ways those around me failed to do. I want to get it under control I want to understand what's wrong before I somehow end up in the same cycle I've tried desperately to escape for years. I want to be better than the blood running through my veins.

Source: This