#the symbolism n shit but also i think it’d look cool. he could have those curly ram horns

[quackurucho]

hypothetically. what if we started incorporating horns wings and/or dragon tails into qcharlie’s design to show him morphing into an egg but getting side effects from doing so and him partially becoming a dragon himself and suffering because of it, him suffering trying to find meaning once again

#the symbolism n shit but also i think it’d look cool. he could have those curly ram horns #or really tall kinda curvy ones #qsmp #quackity smp #q!charlie #q!slimecicle

[ashintheairlikesnow]

"I don't fucking need you. I don't fucking need anyone."

(ideally said to reinforce an angry, apathetic façade)

CW: Panicked whumpee, trauma response, discussion of stabbing/murder, defiant/angry whumpee, referenced prostitution/dubcon, brief internal dehumanization reference

Jake Gets Stabbed: First Second Third Fourth

Also includes @nonsensicalwhump’s prompt ‘don’t fucking touch me’

There was an old backpack already in the closet when he moved into this place. It was worn around the edges, with safety pins all along the top because the zipper had long since broken, an olive green that might have been brighter, once upon a time. The bottom’s duct-taped in layers to hold it together. There are more safety pins holding seams together along the side, another strip of tape where there’s smeared permanent marker, too destroyed for Jameson to even read it.

The backpack looks like Jameson feels, wrecked and ruined and trying valiantly to stay together at the seams, only to come apart anyway.

He stuffs a package of goldfish crackers into the backpack on top of the three pairs of boxers and two shirts and one pair of pants he’s already put inside. Then he adds the bit of beef jerky he keeps up on the top shelf in the closet, where he has to climb onto a box to even reach it. 

His heart hammers in his chest, and when Allyn’s fingertips brush along his shoulder blades through his shirt he jerks away from them, shoving some granola bars in, too. “Don’t fucking touch me!” He snaps, but all he wants is to collapse back into their arms, let them tell him it’ll be okay again, and believe it.

But he can’t believe it.

Their rainshower voice is a lie, the taste of ozone and the relieved wash of cool water is a lie, it’s all a fucking lie and it always fucking was.

“Jameson, no one is asking you to leave,” They say, voice low and soothing, their hands out but not quite touching him now. He glances over his shoulder at those long, long fingers, graceful elegant hands made for gesturing at the parties they tell him about. Fingers entirely unlike his own, the pinky that won’t quite close all the way anymore, the scars layered over them from every time they were hit until they bled, until he begged for more.

“No one has to,” Jameson says, staring down at the empty space in the top of the backpack. Does he own so little? Does he even own any of this? He can’t take the carvings in the closet wall, and that’s most of what he even wants to take. His proof to himself that he was a person, however briefly, before he goes back out to lose it all over again. “I killed m-my fucking-... the person who believed I c-c-ould be better, I killed him-”

“He’s not dead,” They say softly, and their hair hangs over their face. It’s all mussed and frizzy, and he thinks they look even prettier and more handsome somehow, like they’ve rolled out of bed, even though he knows it’s because they’re worried, too worried to pull it back, too worried to care. “I, I heard them call a doctor. Someone’s going to sew it up and he’ll b-be-”

“He’ll bleed to fucking death because of me,” Jameson says, and the weight of it hits him now. He sits down on his bed but it’s more like he falls into it. It’s not his bed anymore, anyway. It’ll be some other rescue’s, someone more deserving than he’s ever been of regaining humanity.

Some other rescue will arrive and lay down here across from Allyn and maybe watch the moonlight move over their face while they look outside and think that no one in the world has ever been as lovely in silvery light as them, and Jameson will be out on the street fucking for cash or food or for ten minutes of safety from himself.

Unless he kills them.

He might.

He might do that, if he-... if he sees Robert in their faces, or Brute, or if he gets lost in himself again he could keep killing people and then he’s not any different, and it wasn’t just to escape and it wasn’t worth it, and from the second he walked away from Nanda’s house he was just going to turn into a killer, wasn’t he? And now he is one.

Now he’s-

Jameson leans over himself, pressing his forehead to his knees, feeling all the scars along his back stretch uncomfortably as he moves. He takes in slow, even breaths, fighting the despair that overwhelms him, buries, drowns him in what he’s done.

He’s just a hand, reaching out, but he’d thought he was reaching out for help. Instead he was holding a knife.

“I won’t let them kick you out,” Allyn says softly, but insistently, dropping to a crouch in front of him. Their hands still hover, wanting so badly to touch him, respecting that he doesn’t want them to. He can feel the warmth of them even so. Their hands are so close. “I promise. I’ll, I’ll convince them somehow to let you stay. We can figure this out, Jameson, you don’t have to be all by yourself.”

“It’s fine, I d-did it before, I can do it again. It’s fine.” Jameson talks into the fabric of his jeans, lets it muffle the emotion and flatten his words. His shoulders shake with a sob he catches before it ever leaves his throat. 

“Jameson, you know we don’t do well alone, you need-”

“I don’t fucking need anyone!” His head jerks up, meeting their gray eyes with his own dark brown. He can feel air move against his skin and realizes with some dull surprise he’s crying again. “I don’t-... I don’t fucking need a keeper, I don’t need... I don’t n-need anybody, I don’t need y-y... I don’t-”

He can’t tell that lie.

“Please don’t leave,” Allyn says, and their hands come to rest gently on either side of his face now, cool dry palms against his flushed damp skin. “Jameson. Please don’t leave me.”

“I tried to kill the first person to help me,” Jameson whispers. “The first person who didn’t ask for anything back. I tried to kill him.”

Allyn shakes their head. “You tried to kill R-... Robert, whoever that was. You tried to kill someone who hurt you. You didn’t know. If you leave, I-I’ll go with you, I can... I can go with you.”

“No you can’t. You don’t know how t-to handle shit out there, Allyn, it’d-...” He looks over their faces, the tears in their eyes, tears he caused, it’s his fault they want to cry. It’s his fault everyone in this house wants to cry, now, it’s his fault they bleed in every possible way. It’s his fault, for thinking he was ever more than just another rabid dog. 

“I’ll go anyway,” Allyn says, fiercely. Their voice pours on his tongue, it’s the taste of a raging rush of river, a flood in the middle of the night, washing out the dry earth. “I’ll go with you anyway, we’ll figure it out, Jameson, you and I. I won’t lose anyone else-... I won’t lose you.”

Jameson hitches in a breath that burns all the way down to his lungs, and his own hands rise, slowly, to rest over theirs. “But... it could happen again, Allyn. What if-... what if it happens again?”

“What if it does? So what? It’ll just be us, we can just run, we can do it.” Allyn just looks at him, with those tears starting to well up and run down their cheeks like the water he tastes when they speak.

He licks at his lips, forcing the words out with every ounce of strength he has left. “What if... what if n-next time it’s you?”

Allyn opens their mouth to respond only for there to be a soft rap at the doorframe, both of them turning to look. 

Jake’s boyfriend, the one who used to be like them, stands there. His wide blue eyes are nearly red from crying, and his face is as flushed as Jameson’s. To Jameson, his eyes seem cold and glittering, shattered glass. 

His voice tastes like pears when he speaks, and Jameson shudders wondering if there’s a needle slipped into the soft skin of the fruit. 

“Jameson?”

The two of them don’t move, except that Jameson curls his scarred, rough fingers over Allyn’s smooth hands and holds on as they drift down. He only looks at Kauri and says, his hoarse voice still thick with his own dread and guilt and fear, “Yeah?”

Kauri rakes a hand back through half-controlled black curls and takes a breath. “He’s all sewn up, and there’s some... someone Nat knows downstairs now, with Dr. Masood. They think-... I don’t know. Probably not going to, uh, to d-die.”

Jameson nods, his grip tightening on Allyn’s fingers, but the other rescue doesn’t pull away or flinch, only holds right back, just as tightly. “That’s-... good. Kauri, I, I didn’t know-”

“Yeah, I get it.” Kauri’s voice sharpens, and Jameson closes his eyes. Pear and razor blades, blood on his tongue, not like Nanda. This blood doesn’t taste like pleasure but guilt and regret. “I know-... I get it. Chris more... more or less explained it to me. But we need to talk.”

Allyn squares their shoulders, jaw settling. “It’s not his fault. You can’t blame him, he didn’t know-”

“I need to talk,” Kauri says with effort, “to Jameson.” His eyes go to the backpack packed on the bed, not yet closed up, the symbol of Jameson’s intent to run. Something changes in his expression, but Jameson can’t read it. “I need to talk to Jameson alone.”

-

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @raigash @moose-teeth @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @eatyourdamnpears @boxboysandotherwhump @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @outofangband @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @thehopelessopus @butwhatifyouwrite @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @newandfiguringitout @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whumpiary @endless-whump @burtlederp

#whump #recovering whumpee #defiant whumpee #angry whumpee #scared whumpee #running away #ptsd tw #jameson bb #allyn bb #erase to control #multiple whumpees #trauma response #guilt #freed whumpee #rescued whumpee #referenced stabbing #referenced murder #referenced pet whump

[yoon-kooks]

Tie Me Up

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff & Agust D

Summary: While planning the promotional shoot for Agust D’s second mixtape, you’re visited by the man himself who seems to have a lot of ideas for a “baddie” aesthetic. One suggestion in particular sounds a bit risky, but somehow you’re tempted.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning: Yoongi may or may not have a bondage kink

A/N: i know what the title says but this is straight fluff, fam :^)

-

As the countdown begins for Agust D’s return, it’s up to you, BigHit’s resident art director, to make preparations for the photoshoot and music video. After playing the mixtape on repeat for the past few days, you’ve come to the conclusion that the visuals need to be bold, in your face, and for lack of a better word, badass.

The only problem is that you know Yoongi. You know how he likes to present himself as the hardcore underground rapper that he is. And you know his Agust D persona is quite raw and outspoken. But more than that, you know that Min Yoongi is actually a softie. Especially around you for some reason.

You’ve seen and experienced it with your own eyes. Because whenever he casually drops by the art department of the BigHit building, he always makes up some pathetic excuse about “enlisting your help for a personal art project” or “needing a change of scenery” just to visit you. And then he’ll just sit there, working next to you on the spare desk that somehow became his second office. He even goes out of his way to buy your favorite dessert “for himself,” only to share half of it with you on late nights in the office.

With the knowledge that Yoongi’s that soft, you struggle to envision him as the badass that Agust D is supposed to be. If only he weren’t so dang cute all the time.

“Fucking Yoongi,” you mumble to yourself as you study photos of the shooting location and several props to spark any sort of inspiration.

“Y/N.” You look up from your computer screen at the boy you’d just cursed out. “I can hear you, you know.”

“What brings you here today, Min Yoongi?” you ignore his comment.

“Ah, me? I just needed a change of scenery,” he shrugs with a whole ass keyboard in hands. “Helps the creative juices flow better.”

“You used that excuse like two days ago. Try harder,” you tilt your head.

“Oh, I did?” he ruffles his hair.

“No, I’m just fucking with you,” you crack into a giggle. “You did say it last week, though.”

“Oh, so you’re keeping count?”

“You could say that.”

“Anyway, I just thought I might as well stop by to make sure you’re not goofing off, young art director.” He makes himself comfortable on the spare desk beside yours. “How’s the planning going?”

“The most goofing off I’ve done all day is bickering with you,” you pinch the rapper’s cheek because that’s just what your fingers do. “As for the planning, it requires a big brain to make someone like you look badass.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he narrows his eyes at you. “Doesn’t it help that I’m naturally scary?”

You blink at the “scary” boy without answering his question. Then an idea pops into mind. “Want to help me plan? It is your music video after all.”

Yoongi nearly shoves his keyboard off the desk. “Sure.”

You turn your screen towards the boy to fill him in on the details. “So what I’m thinking so far is to have some fire involved…you mentioned Bang PD, so maybe like a cameo from him… oh, and it’d be cool if you had an eye scar like Kakashi.”

“Who’s Kakashi?”

“I was also thinking of inviting Seokjin and Jungkook to make a brief appearance?” you continue, again without answering his question.

“Yeah, maybe it’s better not to,” Yoongi sighs. “You know how those two are. They’ll probably just start fighting each other for the hell of it.”

“It would be good to have some of your friends on set to support you, though.”

“Are you saying you’re not a friend who will support me?”

“You know I’ll support you, Silly,” you chuckle. In addition to being a softie, Min Yoongi is also a funny guy.

“Right, right,” he says as one of the sample props catches his eye. “What were you planning on using the rope for?”

“Oh that… You know how Bruno Mars uses a rope to drag a piano around in that one music video? I was thinking something along those lines, but like with something to symbolize your achievements.” You start gesturing as though you’re playing charades. “It’ll be like ‘I had to work my ass off for this motherfucker.’”

“Interesting. I like that,” Yoongi nods, casually picking up the rope. “Or, what if we tied me up?”

“What.”

“Wouldn’t that be kinda badass?”

You attempt to envision a soft Yoongi all tangled in rope, but it’s a little too much for you to process. “Maybe it’s not best to broadcast your bondage kink to the entire world.”

“It’s not a kink, it’s an aesthetic.”

“Right,” you roll your eyes. “It’ll make you look like a real baddie, Yoongi.”

As soon as you snatch the rope out of the boy’s hands, he offers up his wrists to you. But all you can do is stand and stare, wondering if he’s legitimately serious about the bondage kink.

It takes a good minute or so, but Yoongi finally budges. However, you’re caught off guard when his hands wrap around yours—not that you’re complaining. If there’s one thing that you’re weak to about Yoongi, it’s when he completely breaks down his “scary” front and goes full soft boy on you. You’re not sure what triggered the handholding all of a sudden, but you’ll take what you can get.

“I still think it’s a good idea, yeah?” He tilts his head at you with a slight pout. A pout!

Aha, you see what’s going on.

“I’m not going to let your adorable face sway me, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Yoongi drops your hands and sighs. “I don’t get why you always think I’m cute.”

“Because that’s just what you are,” is what you want to scream. You swear the boy drives you crazy sometimes. “It doesn’t matter what I think, Yoongi. You are what you are.” It’s not an opinion. It’s a fact.

“So no rope?” he blinks at you with that pout again. Stay strong, Y/N.

“Fine, we can try the rope if it makes you happy…” It’s your turn to pout. His cuteness always wins. It’s too powerful. Even more powerful than Agust D himself.

As you fumble around with the rope to get it around the boy’s wrists and body, he has the audacity to snicker.

“What?” You shoot him a look. You’ve never seen someone so delighted to be tied up. Then again, bondage isn’t really your area of expertise.

“Nothing,” he hums.

“You know, if someone walks in right now, they’ll get the wrong idea.” You tie a neat bow at the small of Yoongi’s back.

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

“You seem to care when I think you’re cute.”

“You’re different.”

“Is that so?” you giggle, backing up to get a full view sample photo of the tied up boy. You honestly don’t get the appeal. He just looks like a bigger dork than he already was. Then again, you are pretty smitten for that adorable dorky side of his.

“Did it work?” He waddles over to you in the restraints. You show him the photo and he nods in approval. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re the biggest dork ever, Yoongi,” you tease.

“You’re not affected at all by this?” He tries to lift his wrists.

“I’ll admit you’re right about it fitting the Agust D aesthetic. I can respect it to that effect,” you try to keep it professional for 0.2 seconds. “But on a personal level, I can’t unsee how dang soft you are.”

“I’m not soft,” says the soft boy as you untangle him from the rope.

“Right, and you’re not going to treat me to my favorite dessert after this.”

“I’m not?” The first thing the boy does when his wrists are free is take your hand once more. “Because I’m headed there right now if you want to tag along.”

You smile, shake your head, but follow him nonetheless. You’ve proven your case. The world may see and fall for the hardcore badass in Agust D all tied up with scars and shit, but you’ve fallen long ago for the dork who simply hangs with you for a nice change of scenery.

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fluff #yoongi x reader #btsboulangerie #agust d #yoongi #suga #yoongi fanfic #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts #bangtan #tie me up

[foureyeswithanicesmile]

Tattoos and Too little space.

-so this is maybe the last Part to my “Mr Todd” trilogy. Smut, tattoos, tension and then back to tattoos because I don’t know how to write about anything that isn’t foreplay. Also new titans episode drops today very pleased. Anyways enjoy and send in requests.

“ You ever wanted a tattoo?”

The question was more eager than you would’ve liked it to be, It certainly overtook the mind of Jason Todd; evident in the way he clicked his tongue in thought.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it- A red hood type tattoo wouldn’t be so bad” Red hood finally spoke after a few moments, eyes directed at the grey ceiling as he finalised. After a few moments of silence once more and an almost repulsed glare sent in his direction, Todd finally met your eyes with a perplexed expression.

“ What? It’d be cool”

“ What if you no longer match the Red Hood? What If i stole your identity for a year or some shit” You joked, not opposing to the idea of stealing Todd’s signature get up for a day or two.

“ Then everyone will know the original Red Hood- plain and simple” Red Hood shrugged once more, your eyes narrowing more.

“ Maybe we could get matching tattoos? Doesn’t have to be large piece of any of that shit” You proposed, Jason’s brow raising in amusement.

“ I’m listening”

“ Each others symbols- if we have those, I’d do one of your chest plate on my thigh and you get a mirror” You began to explain, slowly becoming confident in your own ideas. For clarification, your symbol was a mirror because you usually adopted the signature moves of your opponents, but incorporated more agility in order to perfect them.

“ Alright then.”

“ Hey- hold my shirt up a little- and pull down my pants to just after you get to the pelvis bone” You ordered, now fully prepared with all your equipment. You decided to go for a black to red ombre in the symbol- in order to portray Jason’s coming of independence after death. All things considered though, your request and placing of your tattoo made things slightly tense.

“ You sure you want it there? I’d feel bad for anyone you fuck in future” Jason almost joked, now fastening a grip on the waistband of your pants, pulling them down just enough for you to place the pre-ink sketch you did right in the centre of your pelvis, just a little higher.

“ I wouldn’t worry about that If I were you” You began to concentrate, now preparing your black ink filled tattoo pen. Jason was intrigued by your ability to pierce and tattoo yourself. The only thing he ever did was his first lobes- in which he ended up having redone by you when he pussied out as a kid.

As the pen began to penetrate the skin; your facial expression hadn’t faltered drastically at all- in fact Jason noticed that any time you felt it hurt your determination only got stronger.

“ Wipe that for me- the excess ink”

“ Oh shit right- my bad”

“ You zoning out at the sight of me? Flattering”

“ Go fuck yourself”

“ Only if you watch” i

Now it was his turn, and because he was so sure on his high pain tolerance, he wanted it the exact place you had yours. However, just like Jason, you were distracted. His predominant v-line decorated in scars in some places almost made you completely forget the tattoo.

“ Red boxers? Wow Jason you truly live into the red hood legacy” You spoke in attempt to ice break, his eyes staring sultry daggers into the back of your skull.

“ Be grateful I’m even letting you see my boxers- let alone get your paws on em” Jason spoke back again, an almost nervousness lacing his voice as he observed you apply the guide line, the cool, smooth application calming him.

“ This might hurt- but not a lot alright- oh and could you keep your shirt away from the template- don’t want a fucked up tat now do we?” You requested, Jasons face almost disappointed as he was unable to grab his shirt; your supplies and sanitary equipment preoccupying his hands.

With a groan of annoyance, you took the end of his shirt and held it up to his mouth; allowing him to latch onto the fabric with his teeth. This was hot. Really fucking hot. Jason had a pretty good body for a dead motherfucker you had to admit.

Before any excess complaint, you flashed Todd a reassuring look, now beginning to glide the needle across his skin; the muscle a lot firmer than you believed it to be.

Just like you; Jason thought of the angle you were at to be almost alluring, the way your warm free hand rested on his right pelvis bone whilst the other marked his skin beautifully wasn’t even the best bit. It was your face, biting your lip in thought whilst flashing him inquisitive eyes in order to see how he was doing. If anything, Todd was more concerned about not having a boner rather than the needle poking at his flesh.

All was believed to be going well; the arousal you both harboured under control, the both of you mentally reminding yourselves that you both fight constantly and have shot each other at some point. However when you swiped at Jason’s v-line with a wipe in order to remove excess ink, a moan threatened to slip from his throat; the both of you now looking at each other sharply.

“ Fuck the line work”

“ Agreed”

With those words, you shot up from your position, his hand immediately gripping the back of your neck with just enough force to get you to smash your lips on his eagerly- you now straddling him before he dropped your equipment accidentally. He broke the kiss in order to apologise for it, however you didn’t seem to care, only mumbling into his lips.

“ I have another kit in my original apartment I swear it” You dismissed eagerly, now moving your hips up and down onto his lap as you reconnected your lips with his, Jason’s hands now gripping feverishly at your hips; adjusting the pace so there was enough friction for both of you to get off- or get started.

As the rhythm of hips chimed onto the couch, you bit down on your lip and looked Jason in the eye, your expression conveying serious enjoyment. You and him were well aware of this not just being a random hate-fuck, this was something you couldn’t run away from anytime soon. You had to lie in the graves you dug- but the both of you didn’t seem to care.

“ Lets wait to uncover this tattoo huh?” You spoke seductively, now zipping off your jacket and allowing Jason to remove his own attire before assisting you with removing your black deftones T-shirt. At the sight of each other- the both of you paused to analyse the bodies bestowed upon one another.

“ I’ve wanted to fuck you so bad- you have no idea” Jason admitted with a breathy moan, his head now leaning back so that his face was parallel to the ceiling, his Adams apple now more predominant.

“ When have you wanted to fuck me?” You asked out of genuine curiosity, slowing down the rhythm of your hips to make Jason more coherent.

“ The other day- when we were fighting” He breathed once more- his words coming out in pants as you encouraged him with ‘oh yeah?’s’ and ‘ mhm’s.

“ When we were fighting- and you tried to choke me out with your- your- fuck I can’t think” He now paused, the excitement of the situation now overwhelming him (in a good way). The thought of fucking you back as you fucked him almost made him cry out of anticipation.

With his almost plead, you stopped your hips, now guiding his hands to his lap so he could tell you.

“ when you tried to choke me out with your legs- that was hot” Jason now groaned, the sexual vulnerability he emitted depleting rapidly- now wanting to be the one who had the emotional high-ground.

“ Anytime else?” You paused, now leaning back so that you rested primarily on his thighs.

“ That time you threw yourself off that building”

“ You being serious?” You asked with furrowed brows, completely ignoring the fact that you were shirtless with only a pair of pants on, him also in the same attire. This was no longer about sex, this was about interest; and nothing fuelled your confidence more than being told how you make people feel.

“ It was the way you gave no fuck about falling into the water- it was pretty fucking cool” He returned to normal, now collecting the pieces of equipment dropped whilst you returned to your line work- almost finishing his tattoo.

“ Almost there Todd- surprised you didn’t cry about it”

“ I was beaten to death and then blown up- why would I bitch about a tattoo?”

“ Because you bitch about anyone”

A/n: If you’ve read this far I’m shocked. Also i’m loving the way i’m actually getting reblogged on here I love it. I might start doing more kory anders oneshots because she’s hot and my wife.

#red hood #ao3 #titans #dc fanfic #dc universe #dc comics #fanfic #smut

[icyharrington]

Sinful Thoughts (Michael Langdon X Reader) Part 1

ok now that i read this over i lowkey hate the way it turned out, but i spent a lot of time on it so im gonna post it anyways lmfao. y’all wanted sexual tension, so sexual tension you shall receive! 

plot: you’re the epitome of a good christian girl. michael langdon intends to ruin that.

warnings: high school au, fem!Reader, masturbation, sexual tension, no actual smut

word count: 2.7k

i.

“Alright, last pairing. (Y/n), your lab partner will be Michael Langdon.”

You were sure the color drained from your face, because a collective snicker spread itself throughout the classroom the minute you registered your teacher’s words. You’d always hated group projects. Even worse to you were involuntary pairings. Especially when it meant that you were now obligated to do your school project with the weirdly flirtacious kid who lived across the street from you.

You froze, looking across the classroom to the boy who’d been named. He smiled at you innocently, hands crossed neatly in front of him. Your stomach lurched.

“Uh, Ms. Calvin? Would it be okay if I, um, worked by myself instead? I don’t mind taking on the extra work.” You swallowed nervously. More laughter from your classmates, which you did not acknowledge.

Your teacher frowned, emphasizing the deep-set lines in her face. “If I let you work alone, I’d have to let everyone work alone. This project is meant to be completed with a partner.”

You sighed, trying not to seem too distressed as you fidgeted with the sleeves of your pale pink sweater. “Then could I possibly get a new partner?”

“Ms. (Y/l/n), sometimes we are dealt things in life that are not ideal to us. Michael is a perfectly capable young man, and you will work with him.”

“But-“

“Unless you have a valid reason not to work with Mr. Langdon, he will remain as your lab partner.”

You ran your tongue over your bottom lip. What was the reason you were so opposed to working with him? He hadn’t done anything to you, not really. You’d known him since he’d first moved into the neighborhood two years back- from the second you’d saw him, clad in all black with a confident stride, he made you nervous.

Of course, there was also the fact that he seemed to love making you uncomfortable. He’d make some sort of flirtatious comment nearly every time your paths crossed, and it made your insides churn. But still- it was possible he wasn’t even aware that he was being flirtatious, though you doubted that from the way his eyes would glint each time he’d make you blush.

The bell rang, jarring you, and you tucked your books away into your sensible messenger bag. Then you tugged gently on the dainty cross which hung around your neck on a thin gold chain. You always fiddled with it when you were feeling anxious; it brought you comfort to feel the smooth symbol under your fingers.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when somebody leaned on your desk, placing both hands palm-down with a startling thud. You didn’t even have to look up to see who it was: you saw a leather jacket and black button-up, along with large hands adorned with several rings.

“That wasn’t very nice of you,” came a smooth, slightly mocking voice. “What’s so bad about being my partner?”

You looked up timidly, flinching slightly under the boy’s piercing blue gaze. “Nothing. I just- um.” Your voice trailed off, and you realized it probably hadn’t been the wisest choice to request a new partner in front of the entire class.

“You just what?” He tilted his head to the side, widening his eyes. “You has no problem voicing your thoughts a minute ago.”

Since looking into his eyes was making you impossibly nervous, you tried instead to focus on his hair, which even you had to admit was lovely. “I just think we’d both work better with other partners.”

He shook his head, allowing his blond waves to fall in front of his eyes. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you, (y/n),” he said softly. “Perhaps you’d like me better if I weren’t so nice?”

You scoffed, and he cocked an eyebrow at you, seemingly pleased with your defiance as a grin began forming across his full lips.

“You’ve never been nice. You just love to make me uncomfortable.”

“If anything I’ve said has made you uncomfortable, then that’s on you.” He stood up straight, drumming his fingers on the black belt around his slim waist. “Why would you think I care enough to try and make you squirm?”

You pushed back in your chair and jumped to your feet, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “Just- don’t talk to me unless it’s about the project.”

“So we’ll meet on Friday, then?” he grinned at you, baring his perfectly straight teeth.

“I am not going to your house,” you snapped. “You can come to mine.”

“Fine with me. I’d love to see the way a girl like you lives.”

“I’m not even going to ask you what that’s supposed to mean,” you muttered, walking around your desk so you wouldn’t have to cross paths with Michael on your way out.

“Oh, (y/n)?” he said, just as you were about to leave. Back still to him, you grimaced.

“What?”

“That’s a nice necklace you’ve got on.”

Your hand flew up to your neck, caressing the cool metal frantically. In your head, a prayer repeated itself over and over; you shut your eyes, hoping it’d calm you down, but for the first time in your life, it didn’t.

ii.

The week went by impossibly fast, and before you knew it, it was Friday. You’d almost forgotten the plans you’d made with Michael— almost— but Michael had made sure to cheerily remind you that morning as you left your house to leave for school.

Now it was 3:59. He was supposed to come over at 4. Your palms sweat profusely as you waited in the living room, and you wiped them on your modest knee-length skirt.

You hoped maybe, by some miracle, he’d forget. But you knew that would never happen. He was looking forward to this, looking forward to getting under your skin.

The clock on your phone switched briskly to 4:00, and you winced. There was a beat, and then came three sturdy knocks on your front door. Of course he’d show up at 4 on the dot. What else had you expected?

You stood up and fixed your hair, hoping he wouldn’t be able to sense the intense anxiety coursing through you. Then you made your way to the door and swung it open, letting out shallow breaths in an attempt to compose yourself.

He stood there on your welcome mat, backpack slung over his shoulder and smirk on his lips. He made no attempt to conceal the way his eyes traveled over your body, and you shifted, uneasy. “Michael. Come in.”

“You seem enthused,” he said, brushing past you and into your home without a second thought.

You turned around, watching him enter your living room, his head turning to observe every last detail. His lips curved upwards slightly as he regarded the various religious symbols mounted on the wall- an old-fashioned crucifix, a simple wooden cross, a framed painting of Jesus that your mom had bought at a yard sale. Then his eyes fell upon the leather-bound bible on the coffee table, and he chuckled.

“What?” you demanded, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Nothing,” he sang, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket and flashing you a close-mouthed smile. You returned it with a straight face, entirely unamused.

“Wait here while I get my stuff,” you said, turning on your heel and heading for the stairs. “And don’t follow me.”

You made your way up the carpeted steps, tensing as you could practically feel his eyes bore into you from behind. All at once you felt self-conscious, and you wished you’d changed into a pair of sweatpants instead of staying in your skirt.

When you got up to your room you let out a breath, immediately relieved once you were out of his admittedly intimidating presence. You walked over to your desk, impeccably tidy save for your biology binder set in the middle.

“Hm. Looks exactly like I expected,” came a drawling voice in the doorway, and you jumped.

“I thought I told you not to follow me,” you said through grit teeth, jaw clenching as you tucked your binder under your arm. That was strange, you thought, the way he’d snuck up on you without you hearing his footsteps on the stairs. He ignored you and tilted his head quizzically, running his fingers along the rosary hanging off your doorknob.

“Don’t touch that,” you said, and he let it drop, beads bouncing noisily against the wooden door.

“So you really believe all this Jesus shit, huh?” he said, amused, taking a few steps inside.

“Get out of my room,” you said in as firm a tone you could muster, but you were surprised when your voice trembled.

He looked at the wooden cross hanging above your bed, and then down at the blue blanket and matching pillows, positioned evenly and smoothed out. You felt vulnerable, somehow, knowing that he now had an image in his mind of where you slept.

“Everything in here is so impossibly perfect,” he stated, running his fingers idly along the frame of your bed. “You want to be perfect, don’t you? You want to be mommy and daddy’s perfect little Christian girl.”

You stared at him, feet planted to the ground as you tried to come up with something to say. He sounded so sure of himself, like he’d been inside your mind and was simply reciting the facts. You wanted to punch him right between those hooded blue eyes, but something inside you prevented you from moving.

“I assume you’re saving yourself for marriage?” he continued, coming closer to you with a smug expression on his handsome face. You willed your feet to move, and your eyes widened when you realized you literally were unable to. Panic rose in your throat, contrasting harshly with his cool exterior.

“None of your business,” you spat, curling your fingers into your palm to try and conceal the silver purity ring you’d been given at church camp several years ago. He laughed, stopping in front of you.

“You’ve never even kissed a boy, have you?”

He craned neck slightly, just looking at you. Then he reached up and tucked two fingers beneath your chin, tilting it up so you could look at him. “And I’m certain you’ve never touched yourself.”

Your face burnt up at his words, and you knew he was enjoying watching the redness creep across your face. He was mere inches away from you now, smiling serenely as you tried your hardest to pull back.

“I’ll even bet that every time you feel that ache between your legs, you drop to your fucking knees and beg god for forgiveness,” he whispered, breath hot on your face.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, focusing all your energy on trying to move. What was keeping a hold on you? It couldn’t possibly be Michael- how would he be able to do something like that?

“Because good Christian girls aren’t allowed to feel carnal pleasure,” he said, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Are they?”

His hand moved from your face to your neck, his pace painfully slow. Your breath hitched when his fingers reached the thin chain around your neck, toying with it for a moment before continuing downwards. He took the cross in his hand and surveyed it, running his thumb across it as he leveled it in his palm.

Before you could do anything, he let go, and all at once the hold on you seemed to break. You pushed him back, hard, silently thanking god for freeing you.

“Leave. And don’t come back. I’ll do the whole project myself. You can take credit for half, I don’t even care.”

He let out a low chuckle. “I’ll let you get back to your prayers.”

You eyed him as he turned around and left, following him to the top of the stairs and watching as he left through the front door. You waited a minute before returning to your room, fixated on the door as if Michael might change his mind and burst through it. Your heart hammered against your ribcage as a familiar, unwelcome sensation began radiating from between your thighs, which you intended to ignore as usual.

You were so distracted by the thoughts of what on earth had just happened that you almost didn’t notice the small change that had been made in your room.

The cross above your bed- which you could’ve sworn had been upright when you followed Michael out- was now, plain as day, upside down.

iii.

You blinked twice, mind foggy as you took a step forward, toes curling at the feeling of cold wood against your bare soles.

You looked down; you were naked, skin dotted over with clusters of goosebumps as your hair stood on end. Your nipples hardened at the low temperature, and all at once you realized you could see your breath in front of you.

You heard something stir from afar, and finally you averted your attention to the opposite end of the room. You were in a church, it appeared, the pews of which were empty. The noise you’d heard had come from behind the altar, and it quickly became apparent that somebody was standing behind it.

Your mouth went dry. It was Michael. His face was heavily shadowed, but from his stature alone you knew it was him. He, too, was naked, at least as far as you could see from the portion of his body that was visible.

A chill rolled up your spine and you wrapped your arms around your stomach, shivering as the cold set into your bones. Michael raised one hand, and though his eyes were obscured with shadows, you knew they were settled on you, your body.

From his fingertips, a flame ignited. He rolled his wrist back, cupping his hand around the flame as it grew. Then he flicked his hand forward, and you stumbled backwards as each pew went up in flames, the rich scent of burning wood invading your lungs. Your skin prickled at the feeling of unbridled warmth enveloping you, and from your throat spilled a grateful moan.

“Touch me, and never again will you freeze,” came a booming voice, loud enough to bring you to your knees. You realized that Michael was now much closer to you than he had been before, standing bare as he looked down upon you. You reached for him without shame, lips parting, and before you could feel him, everything went black.

“Michael-“ you croaked.

Your eyes shot open; you were in your bed, legs entangled in a mess of sweat-stained sheets. It took several seconds to collect yourself, and once you finally had, you discovered that your hand was slipped underneath your underwear and buried between your thighs.

“Oh my-“ you stopped yourself from finishing the sentence, removing your hand as if it’d been burnt. Running your hand over the fabric of your underwear, you were alarmed to find that it was completely soaked through.

Face flushing with guilt, you groaned at the pounding coming from your core. It almost scared you how badly you wanted to touch, how badly you wanted to slip your fingers up inside yourself and ride them until you couldn’t hold back the screams.

There was something seriously wrong with you. Usually you were able to ignore the feelings, but with each passing second the throbbing intensified, causing you to squirm restlessly. Images of Michael flashed through your mind, the filthy words he’d spoken to you earlier vibrating in your ears, and you bit your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Your hips bucked up towards nothing involuntarily; your chest rose and fell hard, one hand settled on your breast through your sleep shirt.

It’s not right, you thought, applying slight pressure to your nipple before drawing your hand back. You squeezed your eyes shut, moving your lips silently as you methodically recited prayer after prayer in your mind, hoping to find the strength to ignore the feeling and go back to sleep.

It felt like an eternity had passed before you fell back to sleep, and when you woke up the next morning, you couldn’t help but feel disgusted with yourself, sneering at your reflection in the mirror for being so goddamned weak.

You didn’t know what kind of spell Michael had cast over you, making you think such vulgar thoughts, but you were sure of one thing: Michael Langdon was nothing but trouble.

#michael langdon #michael langdon one shot #michael langdon x reader #x reader #american horror story #ahs apocalypse #ahs one shot #cody fern #michael langdon smut #ahs smut #mine #high school au #alternate universe #ahs au #apocalypse

[fantroll-purgatory]

World:  honestly not sure yet; i’m thinking either alternia or some sort of alternate universe that follows pretty much all of the same rules but with a different history, whatever my friends decide on.  (i’m considering the latter due to my friends having limeblooded characters based off of their extended zodiac. pfft who knows.) Name:  Diezzi Cafein  (truly i wish i had some sort of interesting and witty explanation for this name, but nope, all I can say is this is a cheap bastardization of my league of legends user haha: dizzyoncaffeine)

Hey, the name has meaning, then. It means Dizzy on Caffeine! You just gotta pull that characterization through. Make sure Diezzi is caffeinated. Age:  7.5 sweeps

Theme/Story:  Diezzi fears becoming just like their ancestor, The Betrayer (personal hitman for the ruler at the time who killed some close friends and/or the ruler before killing themselves), doing their best to avoid a fate like theirs though subconsciously failing to escape the inevitable as their personality, interests, and morale paralleling that of the former assassin. though i’m not set yet on wether or not i make this next bit canon, i think they might directly follow in those footsteps by killing some friends for *time*, considering their classpect.  Goals:  I’m looking for a general overview! I really want to have a second opinion on both general and visual design so that I can fix all the flaws I may be unable to fully see. I didn’t have any thematic or vision at all when I first made this character, most of it just being random fun, so there’s probably a lot of issues thanks to that haha Strife Specibus:  scissorkind, 1/2scissorkind  (their main weapon consists of a *rather* large pair of scissors, white + glowy blades with bright red tips. i have yet to name these scissors mostly due to my laziness. though it’d typically be able to be weaponized in a variety of different ways unique to the scissor form, Diezzi’s dumbass managed to find a way to accidentally break it resulting in them pretty much just being two weird swords. oh well.) Particular weapons don’t really need names until you hop into Sburb anyways! Now something important to consider here is that weapons for Trolls usually tend to be related to a character’s interests or ambitions. (See: Karkat using a sickle because of career ambitions, Nepeta using claws because She’s Cat, and Vriska using dice because she loves luck and pirates). So what is the utility for Diezzi? Why do they use the scissors? Create an interest or ambition that leads to this. Fetch Modus: honestly not quite sure what to make it yet. suggestions are welcome!

Fetch Moduses are also usually interest-based. Since your character likes bones, how about a Skeletal Chart? Each object is placed in a bone on a fake troll skeleton and in order to get the item, you’ve gotta Name That Bone! 

Blood Color:  indigo Symbol and Meaning:  sagiries (this was actually the answer i originally obtained from the extended zodiac quiz haha) Handle:  grievousCollections  (the name simply alludes to Diezzi’s skull collection. don’t worry, they’re not troll skulls! … yet?) Quirk: - types in all lowercase, except for the last letter of every sentencE. - (uses parenthesis when whispering or saying something somewhat offtopic) - sometimes spams the semicolon ;;;;; to emphasize disbelief or confusion. - r-plac-s all ‘e’s with a hyp-n, -, unless the last l-tt-r of the s-nt-nc- is an e, in that cas- it is replac-d with a plus sign + - doubles all ‘i’s, even in proper names or words that already have double consecutiive ‘ii’s. - question and exclamation marks are always separated from the sentence by a space ! but not periods.

Special Abilities:  n/a

Don’t forget that Blues usually have Big Strength. Not Equius level, but still pretty strong. Lusus/Guardian: a large quadraped with a graceful yet very canine-like build, a slight bit bigger than a deer. their front feet have paws but their back have hooflike ends. no visible eyes or ears whatsoever but have horns just like Diezzi’s. long, furless, and slick tentacle-like tail that you hopeful won’t get slapped in the face by. haven’t thought of a personality/relationship yet whoops!

This is nicely creative. AND the descrip vaguely reminds me of Horsaroni, which is fun.  Interests: Diezzi collects the skulls of different lusii and boasts a rather impressive collection too. while it may seem to be something for intimidating other trolls, it’s really just a bit of morbid curiosity and they *tend* to get their skulls for already dead lusii. on the topic of, Diezzi likes milk (haha get it cause like calcium and stuff). wait no, they *love* it. their moirail pokes fun at them for this odd fixation on the liquid but they don’t care anymore. they would live exclusively off it if given the chance. no cap. aside from that, they’re honestly a bit of a dork and like to play whatever troll the troll version of league is although they honestly aren’t all that good at it.

This is a good start, but I think for a more well-rounded character you might want to throw two of three more things into the mix. To bring in the example of another blueblooded milk fan, Equius likes Milk, but he also likes fine art of hoofbeasts, and archery, and robotics. Tavros liked obvious theme stuff like Peter Pan/Fairies/General Fantasy, but he also liked jousting and Fiduspawn and FLARPing and slam poetry. Try to bring in a few more broad fascinations and then narrow down the particulars and you’ll have a stronger character.

Appearance: +  +  +

Personality:  they like to think of themself as the more sane one between them and their palemate but honestly? not really. they’re a bit stressed + anxious at any given time but cover it up with a chill and reasonable demeanor. though this might make them a generally cool and sensible troll to be around, sometimes the unspoken inner turmoil can lead to poor mental health if it’s bad enough. for some reason time’s never on their side, though that’s partly because of their *shit* sense of time. they have a bad tendency to stay up late (sometimes to the point they’re well into daytime until they realize they should probably get some sleep) and usually over/under estimate how long something will take. they suffer from this ever-constant sense of running out time, even when there’s nothing to do. they’re surprisingly open to different ideas and don’t really dwell too much on blood color for a member of a cooler caste, though Diezzi probably won’t stand for any specific cause if it could potentially lead to pissing off higherbloods, for several reasons. however, if something directly affects a lowblood pal, this is tempted to change. sometimes you gotta prove yourself better than your shitty ancestor… but hopefully something like that won’t happen cause being loyal and self sacrificing is fucking scary dude. Lunar Sway: Derse

The personality you describe is honestly more in line with a Prospitan. The fear of becoming like their ancestor thing especially- remember that Prospit players believe more in fate/destiny and are more likely to believe that the ancestor thing holds any weight. Most trolls don’t know or care much about their ancestor, who usually died well before their time. 

Vriska knows about Mindfang because she discovered her journal, but most trolls aren’t going to have that kind of knowledge or connection unless they’re deeply invested in the narrative of the ancestors-- It’s kind of like the human idea of the Zodiac in that way. While some people are really diehard believers that it’s some kind of predetermination of personality, other people don’t know or care about it at all. 

Which isn’t to say dersites can’t know about it, they’re just probably not going to actually BELIEVE it as much. So if Diezzi is the type to believe in ancestors Thoroughly and Passionately and to worry about their inevitable fate, they might make a better prospit character. 

If you wanna make them more derse, you’ll need to pull back on the predetermination idea and give them a little more of that dersite “something to fight for” spirit. That doesn’t mean they have to want to fight for anything Big, they could just like... want to start a Got Milk? campaign in their local neighborhood.   Title:  Thief of Time

Thieves and Princes/Bards are up there as the most Selfish classes. That’s something you have to think about with this title. How do you want this character to develop? Do they need to learn to be selfish and take time for themself instead of sharing it with others? Or will Thief of Time play on their worst habits and make them into a terrible person? Is that what’s necessary for the course of the story? Those kinds of things are hard to consider, but necessary. 

Now, the EZ can get a little Time and Space happy (since those are the two necessary aspects and so they come up more often), and I think that’s what happened here. Which isn’t to say I don’t think Diezzi (or you) wouldn’t make a good time player. I think you just need to emphasize the fact that Diezzi needs to Learn to rail against something. Because Time is about Fighting The Flows Of Time, and making them your own, ESPECIALLY as a thief.  Land: Land of Embers and Constellations (LOEAC), inhabited by crocodile consorts and the denizen Hephaestus.

I don’t have any design notes, I think this design is fantastic! Thank you so much for sharing and I hope this helped. 

-CD

#blueblood #submission #review #cd review #711parkinglot #diezzi cafein #diezzi #cafein

[adscititious-cacoethes]

Sometimes it’s Confusion (Sometimes it’s Fate)

Pairing: Trevor C./Reader Warnings: Swearing, worry, internal turmoil, fluff, this is mostly cute stuff?  (PG-13? There’s too many fuck’s for it to be PG) Word Count: 5,603 A/N: Hello! This is alternatively titled “Soulmate AU where no one fucking knows shit until after they meet them cause I feel like that’s more true to real life.”  Thanks @chefgeofframsay for letting me scream at you. The group chat named is one of the ones that I’ve had with my friends because I’m not creative enough to think of a new one. [Y/F/N] = Your friend’s name Please note this fic takes place at RTX. I have never been to RTX. Therefore, I am basing all info off of things Em told me, watching livestreams, and conventions I have been to. I’m sorry if there are any discrepancies.  I take prompts/requests now! (see here for details). Feedback is appreciated! Please enjoy! 

You hadn’t realized just how big RTX was until you were there (finally!!!) yourself.

As someone who spent more time staying at home than interacting with others, you had foolishly told yourself that RTX couldn’t be that big – you still remembered when they had done that first RTX six years ago, and while aware of the fact that it had grown, you also were, apparently, completely unaware.

But, this was your first (and probably only) RTX, ever, because first college sucked and then after college you realized that you actually had to manage your own money, so you had splurged on that VIP badge and utilized your online and real-life friends’ experiences to masterfully plan your trip for maximum fun without accidentally killing yourself.

Hopefully.

Regardless, as you followed the throngs of people into the convention center, you took a deep breath and reminded yourself that no matter what happened, you were going to roll with the punches, with any luck meet some of the AH crew, and enjoy yourself no matter fucking what.

Because there was, yanno, that other thing that was ever-present in the back of yours and everyone else’s minds. RTX was a big convention – sixty thousand people big – and that meant that there was a significant increase of meeting your soulmate.

You were one of the undoubtedly many people that had that thought on their mind, wondering if you were going to wake up tomorrow with a symbol somewhere on your body. Wondering if today was the day that you would, by chance, meet your soulmate.

You idly wondered how many people you were going to see frantically running around shoving a body part into peoples’ faces tomorrow. How many pictures of soul-marks were going to be posted in the subreddit, tweeted with the hashtag. You knew that a few years back they made their own unique hashtag for twitter just for RTX couples.

You were hoping you wouldn’t be one of them.

(You were so, desperately hoping you would be).

But instead of checking twitter every thirty seconds and saying ‘hi’ to just about everyone you walked past like you saw others doing (like you wanted to do), you forged ahead, determined to see the sights and hear the sounds and smell the smells.

…And you promised some online friends of yours that you’d meet up with them at a certain time and place and you were not one to be late.

As you wandered towards the pre-determined meeting place (or what you thought was the pre-determined meeting place, who knew big convention center buildings had lots of areas that looked very similar?) you idly wondered if any of them were going to be your soulmate. It didn’t work via the internet. It was entirely possible.

You had a strong gut feeling that none of them would be “the one,” though. Each other, yeah, maybe, but you were the one that made your “group” an odd number, the last one to join the friendship Squad, so if everyone was going to be soulmates with someone else except one person, that person was going to be you.

By the time you looked at your watch again (after all the activities and fun and panels and lines and meeting people), it was nearly four in the afternoon and you and your best-internet-friend decided to break off of your little pack and head towards the show floor, content to wander around for an hour or two before going to get ready for the festivities that night. As you were walking past the bathrooms, a shock of white-blond hair caught the corner of your eye and your friend suddenly had a death grip on your arm.

“Trevor!” She half-squealed, half-whispered to you, shaking your forearm vigorously. You loved your friend, but she was definitely not good at the whole ‘they are people, too’ thing.

You patted her shoulder with your free hand placatingly, trying to wrench your arm out of her grasp. This, of course, caused you to fail to notice Trevor stop at the sound of his name and start walking back towards you two, Guardian in tow. The death grip getting impossibly tighter, however, combined with the barely-audible sharp inhale coming from the human being next to you did prompt looking up to find Trevor waving and striding quickly towards the pair of you.

“Hey, there!” He said, coming to more of a pause than a stop in front of you, Guardian looking a little frantic and fiddling with their watch.

You looked to your friend, expecting her to say something, but she just dug her nails into your skin with one hand and waved uncontrollably with the other.

You sighed heavily, “Hi, Trevor. Sorry she’s…being weird.” You gestured vaguely to your friend, feeling bad for about half a second before remembering that there was a possibility she was drawing blood at that moment and feeling very much less bad immediately afterwards.

“It’s fine. I just heard my name so I figured it’d be rude not to say hello. I’m actually about to be late to a panel, but it was nice meeting you both, and hopefully we’ll see each other again sometime this weekend in a less time-sensitive scenario?” Trevor said, rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand and already taking a step backwards.

“Yeah, go have fun! See you around!” You said cheerily, waving him away. It wasn’t until he turned the corner that you managed to get your friend’s hand off of you.

“[Y/F/N], you have got to chill. That’s like the sixth time today you’ve done that, my poor arm is going to fall off because of you!” You teased lightly, rubbing the sore spot with your opposite hand. She smiled at you sheepishly.

“Sorry, [Y/N], I’m just so excited! How can you be so cool about it? Isn’t Trevor like, your fave, too?”

She was right, of course. Trevor was your absolute favorite. He was charming and funny and handsome and even with stupid blond hair you couldn’t help but have the tiniest (read: not very tiny) crush on him.

He was also way out of your league, and you were acutely aware of that.

“I mean, yes, but he’s also a human being and should be treated that way? I dunno, my parents just always taught me to treat everyone I meet the same way until they give me reason not to. I guess this applies?” You finally responded, leaning up against the wall while your friend texted the group chat about the Trevor encounter.

“I guess you’re right, [Y/N]. We’re just opposites, I suppose. It’s really hard for me to see past the ‘these people are my idols’ thing. Maybe tomorrow reality will sink in a little bit and I’ll be better about it.” She said as she pocketed her phone and led the way towards the exit of the convention center.

“Regardless, you need to invest in some nail clippers, girl, those babies are fucking sharp.” You said, making both of you laugh as you joined the crowds.

You pushed the thought of Trevor from your mind, and instead looked forward to all the people you were going to meet and fun you were going to have at the party you and your friends were going to be attending in just a couple hours.

You woke up just the tiniest bit hungover, so you fell out of bed and grabbed a water bottle from the mini fridge before you moseyed on into the bathroom. You turned the water on in the shower and took your time, letting the water start to get cold before stepping out and wrapping yourself in a towel. You were halfway through brushing your teeth when you heard your phone ring from the other room.

Brrrrrring! Brrrrring!

You spit and rinsed as quick as you could and rushed out into the bedroom, swiping to answer the call milliseconds before it went to voicemail.

“What?” You grumbled, putting it on speaker and carrying it back to the bathroom with you.

“Woo!!!” Was the collective response – you could pick out at least four distinct voices – and any doubt in your mind about who it was was cleared when one of them continued with “You ready for today, [Y/N]? AH panel!”

“I’d be more ready if you’d let me finish getting dressed and shit.” You responded, making sure to keep your tone light so that they knew you were only joking.

“Alright, we’re down at breakfast, so just hurry up and join us!” One of your friend half-shouted into the phone before you heard the tell-tale beep beep beep of the call ending. Ignoring the fact that [Y/F/N] was probably violating hotel policy by letting people not staying in this hotel eat their complimentary breakfast, you did your best to work quickly, and you felt rather proud of yourself when you’re out the door and heading to the elevator within fifteen minutes of the call.

You were reaching out to press the call elevator button when something caught your eye. Looking down at your arm, you saw the corner of something dark blue on your skin that you hadn’t noticed before.

Huh, don’t remember anyone writing anything on my arm at the party last night. You thought as you turned your arm over so that you could better see the inside of your forearm.

“Holy fuck.” You gasped, stumbling backwards in shock.

There, in the middle of the forearm of your nondominant hand, were a trio of dark blue stars, collectively about as wide and as long as your palm. When you ran your thumb across them, they didn’t smear or smudge, in fact it sort of tingled, just a little bit, and your heart skipped a beat.

At some point the day before, you had met your soulmate.

There wasn’t a doubt in your mind – you weren’t sure how you missed it in the shower (you were absolutely sure, the answer was you had your eyes closed the whole time), but it wasn’t Sharpie, it was real, and you were absolutely, without a doubt, one of those people who met their soulmate at fucking RTX.

You deserted the idea of waiting for the elevator, instead barging into the stairwell and practically flying down the stairs. You sped down the corridor and into the dining area, spied your friends all sitting at one of the tables, and sprinted towards them.

“Hey, [Y/N], what’s the rush? Convention center doesn’t open for another hour and a half, we’ll have to wait regardless of how soon we get there.” One of your friends said, spotting you first, panting and out of breath.

“Look.” You gasped out, shoving your arm over the table and waving it in their faces. They all looked confused for a moment, but soon enough, you could see recognition dawning in their eyes, one at a time.

“Holy fuck – you have to post it to the subreddit! And tweet it! And put it wherever the fuck you’re allowed!” One of your friends shouted, your best friend pulling out her phone as he spoke.

“No, wait, no!” You drew your arm back to your chest so that the tattoo was safely pressed against your chest.

“Why not?” Another one of your friends, offering you some toast as you took the empty seat at the table.

“I don’t know…I feel weird about it. And I don’t want to get my hopes up, if I don’t find them again, or if, you know…there is no match.” You nibbled on your toast and stared down at the table, cheeks heating up. It wasn’t that you weren’t thrilled but you knew that these things sometimes just didn’t work out, ‘missed connections’ and all that jazz.

It was selfish, but you didn’t want that to happen to you.

You were jolted out of your thoughts by a hand landing softly on your shoulder. When you looked up, all four of your friends were smiling at you reassuringly.

“Hey, it’s no big deal. We’ll just be your scout team, instead. No social media about it until after RTX, and then you can reassess and make that call, yeah?” Your best friend said, her thumb rubbing little circles on your shoulder blade.

You nodded, “Yeah. Sounds good.”

“Great! Now give us a good gander so we can keep our eyes peeled today!” She exclaimed, removing her hand from your shoulder in favor of making a grabby-motion at the arm still tucked against your chest. You rolled your eyes and presented her with your soulmark again.

She snapped a quick pic (“For referential purposes only, I swear!”), you finished your toast, and in no time the five of you were out the door and on your way to the convention center.

The day went on, and while you were having almost as much fun as you had the day before, it was overshadowed by the phantom heat of the soulmark on your arm.

It didn’t help that your group chat had devolved into sneaky pictures of arms and a whole bunch of texts that just said “Nope :(“ in various ways.

So it was a very welcome moment when you realized that you were about to file in and sit down for the AH panel, which meant a prolonged period of time where you were not using your phone. You could even turn it off, if you wanted to – all the people who were important would know where you were.

You were fortunate enough to score some seats towards the front (thank fuck for having nothing to do and aching feet – you and your best friend had gotten there uber-early) and the two of you settled in, munching on snacks hidden in your bags and chatting amicably with all the people sitting in your immediate vicinity.

[Y/F/N] had already checked, and none of them had soulmarks that matched yours.

Soon enough, people were walking onstage and everyone was jumping out of their seats and cheering, loud as they could. You were quick to join them, hooting and hollering and only settling back down into your seat once Geoff grabbed a mic and shouted a cracking, “Sit down, dickheads!” into it.

You spent most of the first bit of the panel looking at Trevor – and then telling yourself it was just because he was right in front of you. It didn’t work, but still. You gave it the good old college try. There was just something about him that you were drawn to, like a moth to the flame. Something in his smile, or the sparkle of his eyes.

Just…just something.

It was almost halfway through the panel (you were guessing – your no phone policy was still rigorously in effect), your focus on Ryan down at the end of the table stirring up some sort of argument, when your friend started tugging insistently on your sleeve.

“What – what?” You asked, trying to keep your voice down.

“There’s something on Trevor’s arm! He’s been keeping it under the table the whole time but he just pushed his hair out of his forehead with his hand and there’s something there. Trevor doesn’t have a soulmate yet, [Y/N]. That could be you!” She squealed excitedly in your ear, gesturing wildly.

“Please, [Y/F/N], as if. Even if he did meet them yesterday – good for him, by the way, he deserves to be happy and shit – the probability of it being me is low and the probability of him wanting me is even lower. Being soulmates means nothing but ‘maximum compatibility,’ remember. Doesn’t mean happily ever after.” You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince her or yourself, if you were honest.

Because really, Trevor was cute. And smart. And funny. If his real personality was within throwing distance of being like his internet one, then you knew that the two of you could work out well. But you had read the stories, did your research, you knew as well as everyone else that soulmates – especially when one of the parties involved was in the public eye – could imploded just as well as normal relationships.

You didn’t want to implode. You didn’t want to experience unrequited-ness (or whatever). You just wanted to exist in at the very least ambivalence for the rest of your life, soulmate or no soulmate.

But the thought of Trevor being your soulmate…

Your friend continued to spend the next several minutes craning her neck and trying to get a good look at Trevor’s arm – still curiously hidden under the table. You, on the other hand, were rather deep in thought in a way that you knew you’d regret in retrospect because it meant missing part of the panel but at the time you couldn’t bring yourself to care enough to pull out of it.

Trevor as a soulmate. Would you even want that? Fucking please. You had already started internally waxing poetic about the guy as soon as he sat down at the goddamn table. Of course you’d want that. Would he want you? God, you hoped so. For all of your insecurities, despite all the negative thoughts and opinions you (sometimes more often than not) had about yourself, you would certainly fucking hope that your soulmate would be able to look past those things better than you could; see beauty, something wonderful, where you couldn’t.

It would be hard, being in the public eye. You’d have to move to Austin, most definitely. You’d have to deal more directly with internet trolls. You’d be in a whole different sphere of existence, because even if Trevor kept you mostly private and under wraps, soulmarks are telling and people are insistent and persistent when behind the safety of a screen.

Would you do it? Could you do it?

You knew the answer without really even thinking about it.

“Fuck, [Y/N], [Y/N]!” You arm was suddenly being slapped wildly, and you were roughly pulled out of your thoughts, focusing on the stage in just enough time to see Trevor’s arms spread wide in front of Michael and Gavin, and there was something blue and star-shaped on his forearm and –

Well, his arms went down as soon as they went up, but something in your chest tightened in anticipation. If you and your friend saw it, then most of the rest of the audience probably did, too, so when Q&A time rolled around, undoubtedly someone would come up and ask about it, have him describe it. And if he did, and if it matched yours.

Well, you weren’t sure what the RTX Guardian policy was on it but you’d rather walk up to Trevor and say “Hey dude we met for like sixty seconds yesterday because my friend completely freaked when she saw you and I think we’re soulmates?” after the panel and not in front of who-knows-how-many thousands of your closest friends.

So instead, you just sat and waited.

Surprisingly enough, the question never came. Which fucking sucked because that meant you weren’t sure if it was him. And you weren’t about to do something as public and potentially embarrassing as tweet at him (he didn’t follow you so DMs were off the table) or post on the subreddit or whatever.

So, despite the disappointed glances from your friends, you decided to head off on your own for a while – call it a “hunt for Trevor,” if you will. You weren’t sure departing from your friends was the best thing to do, but once your best friend texted the group chat “I am like, 85% positive that Trevor has a matching mark to [Y/N]!!!” they had been excited, loving, and…insufferable.

Which logically left you little choice except a “hey, guys, I know we’re supposed to go to this panel now but I’m not feeling it so I’m going to go find a quiet corner to hang out in for a while.” Your friends were concerned, but you insisted, which brought you to where you were now – sitting up against a wall down a surprisingly empty hallway, scrolling through your phone for any tweets about Trevor you could find, hopelessly, desperately trying to figure out if he is The One, so to speak, so that you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself for assuming.

For all you knew, the mark on his arm could’ve been residual Sharpie or something.

After an hour of that with no luck (typical), you decided to walk around to see if you could either catch sight of the tall, newly-blond man or catch wind of someone who had seen him at some point today.

You circled the show floor twice. Then you went over to the autograph area (as far in as you could go without a signing ticket thing for that time, anyway), asking the Guardians and Security Officers if anyone had seen Trevor yet that day (spoiler: they hadn’t). You slowly snaked your way around the lines for all kinds of panels, dropped by near the Fake AH escape room – didn’t see Trevor there, but Jeremy was full-on Rimmy Tim-ing it and you were in hysterics about it – and then circled back around to the front of the building. You even sighed and went to the other buildings that were holding panels and things. You scrolled through twitter and discovered a couple of meetups happening nearby so you went and crashed those, too.

Fucking.

Nothing.

No Trevor. You had no idea where he could’ve been, unless he was, like, seventy feet behind you that whole time. You had literally gone everywhere he could’ve been!

Well. Almost everywhere. He could have been hiding out in the Staff Only areas, or he could’ve left to go get some food, or he could’ve went home/to his hotel for the day (you weren’t sure which, nor would you take the time to be creepy enough to figure it out).

Yeah, on second thought, there were a lot of places you couldn’t look that he could’ve been. You were about to accept defeat, go meet up with your friends, and re-assess for the next day, when your phone chiming interrupted your thoughts.

[Chat: #SQüID] [From: [Y/F/N] 5:07:23 PM] [Y/N], check it out!!!! 😊 😊 😊

The text was followed immediately by another, containing a twitter link. You sighed heavily and clicked the link before it could fully load and show you a preview in the chat. Your phone was buzzing with notifications from the rest of your friends (probably yelling about something – you didn’t have previews on for your notifications) and you paused, moving to the wall to wait for twitter to load. Stupid slow phone with the stupid slow internet because of all these people, you grumbled internally, tapping your foot impatiently.

Fuck.

You sucked in a sharp breath, sucking your bottom lip in between your teeth when the tweet finally loaded. The picture attached still was only halfway there, so all you could see was part of Trevor and some random person’s face, but in the meantime, you read the tweet. Again. And again. And again.

@_TrevorC Thanks for taking the time to take a picture with me – hope you find your other half! (Close but no cigar)

You swiped down on the next notification for your group chat, trying to figure out what was going on without risking actually leaving twitter which would mean waiting even longer for it to re-load, but everyone was just incoherently keyboard-smashing and sending excited-looking emojis back and forth.

You cleared out of the chat preview to see that the picture was almost loaded just a little more, fuck slow internet it’s literally been less than a minute but it feels like yeARS –

“Excuse me?”

Your head shot up from your screen. You knew that voice.

Sure enough, Trevor was standing in front of you, a respectable distance away but still rather close, rocking on his toes a little with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Hi, sorry, am I blocking something?” You asked, looking left and right. You were pretty close to a water fountain but you weren’t in the way, necessarily, and the bathrooms you had stopped near were a couple feet away from you, still.

“Uh, no, you’re fine. I just wanted to ask – we met yesterday, right? You had a friend with you who was very excited?” He rocked back on his heels, and you could see out of the corner of your eye that there were a couple of Guardians off to the side, and as Trevor spoke they seemed to be intercepting people and – directing traffic around the two of you? At least, that’s what it looked like.

You were very confused.

“Yeah, that’s a nice way of putting it but that was me. It’s nice running into you again.” You chuckled a little while internally cringing at your word choice.

That sounded a lot better in your head.

“Definitely!” He said, beaming at you, and you watched as he went to do something with one hand, aborted the motion, and then lifted his other hand to push his hair back a bit.

Your phone was buzzing incessantly in your hand, even more so than before, and you went to look down at it to see what the fuck was going on, surely this explosion wasn’t still from that tweet that [Y/F/N] had sent, but as soon as your eyes started to drift to your phone Trevor cleared his throat and you snapped back up to look at him.

“Sorry if this is weird, but I’ve been trying to retrace my steps from yesterday because I didn’t want to be all public about it and then get people like, freaking out and trying to Cinderella this shit but I know we spoke briefly yesterday – in this very spot, ironically – so did you happen to wake up with a mark that looks like this?” Trevor finished his sentence by awkwardly jabbing his arm out, palm up to face you.

There, in the center of the inside of his forearm, about the size of your palm, were three. Blue. Stars.

You gaped like a fish, opening and closing your mouth for a couple of moments, and you knew that Trevor was waiting a response but you couldn’t quite get one to come. Instead, the still-functioning part of you jumped into action, and you took a step forward, holding your own arm out for him to see, lining your forearm up next to his.

They were a perfect match. Same size, same shape, same color, same spot on the same arm – everything. You stared at your arms, reveling in the strangeness of it all, and beyond that, in the warmth that was flooding your chest like you had a campfire burning inside you.

“I’m [Y/N].” You blurted out, finally looking up from your arms to meet Trevor’s eye. He beamed at you, and his soft brown eyes crinkled in the corners, and by damn if you didn’t think that he looked like the sun – all bright and warm and happy.

“Hi [Y/N]. Would you like to, uh, go somewhere that isn’t a hallway and talk, maybe? I’d like to get to know you. If you want that, that is. I just realized that this might be weird for you.” Trevor rambled a bit, gesturing with his other arm and leaving the tattooed one next to yours. It was almost like he was afraid that if he moved it, he would wake up and it would’ve all been a dream.

Hell, you thought that way, too.

“Why would it be weird for me?” You asked, even though you knew the answer – you had been thinking about it all fucking day, of course you knew the answer, but you wanted to know what Trevor thought, first, almost like some kind of test to make sure the two of you were on the same train or whatever.

“I mean, soulmates are kind of scary to begin with, and then I’m in the public eye, and you’re not, so there will always be jealous trolls making shitty comments, and I’m sure you’re not from around here, so that’s another hoop to jump through, and while I could probably, literally squeal with excitement right now because you’re pretty and also my soulmate and if I’m honest all I want to do in this moment is hug you and kiss you and never let you go, you’re also my soulmate and I’ve thought about how I’d deal with a situation like this since I started working here and above all, I just want you to be happy. With or without me.” Trevor grabbed your still-outstretched hand with his free one as he spoke, soft and earnest and as the words came tumbling out of his mouth you could feel yourself tearing up a little.

Because the campfire in your chest was telling you that you, too want to hug and kiss and never let go, but the fact that he had thought about this for literally years and his conclusion was he just wants you to be happy – that made your heart melt a little bit.

As soon as he finished speaking you surged forward, burying your face in his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. His arms went around you without hesitation, and you felt his lips brush against the top of your head and somehow you felt impossibly warmer and sighed into his shirt.

“Is that a ‘yes, Trevor, I’d love to go somewhere more private and get to know you,’ then?” He asked, voice muffled against your hair and you could feel the soft reverb in his chest against your face.

You nodded, at a loss for words, and he pulled away with one more soft kiss to your head, grabbing your hand that wasn’t holding your phone and lacing your fingers together.

“I’m glad I ran into you, [Y/N].” He muttered, and you were suddenly aware of the small crowd of people who had gathered around the two of you (at a respectable distance, which was nice).

“Me, too. I have to admit, when my friends and I caught a glimpse of something on your arm at the AH panel today and I started thinking about it as a possibility I was kind of worried, about the things that you said, but I’d like to at the very least try,” You gestured to your mark, “these things don’t just show up for no reason, after all.”

Trevor nodded and hummed in understanding, “Yeah,” He stared at you for a long moment, “You’re really pretty, and easy to talk to. I like you already.” He told you, smiling cheekily while you hid your now-tomato-colored face with your free hand. He called out someone’s name, and one of the Guardians nearby (who you later would find out that they had been directing traffic around the two of you, and that Trevor had rounded up all the Guardians he could find besides his own to help him retrace his steps throughout the day to find you, which you thought was very romantic and sweet and flattering) turned and led the way through the crowd for the two of you.

Trevor held tight to your one hand, and you unlocked your phone with the other, sending a quick text to your friends as you walked, telling them that you had ran into Trevor and your marks matched and you were going with him to talk and hang out for a little while and that you’d let them know when you were heading back to your hotel so they knew you were safe. You laughed and showed Trevor the slew of emojis and well-wishes they sent in response.

Later, you would find out that while Trevor was not a perfect human being – those didn’t exist – he was pretty fucking close to perfect for you.

Later, you and Trevor would watch a video that someone had tweeted at him of the two of you showing each other your tattoos and discovering that they match. You would blush at the way that Trevor looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world, and Trevor would apologize because there was no way that you could be a secret or keep the situation private for even a little bit due to how publicly he went about it, and you would smile and stretch out your neck to peck a kiss on his cheek – the very first kiss you gave him ever! – and tell him it’s okay, at some point in your relationship it would have to be made public, so why not from the start.

The next day, at a panel, Trevor would get you and your friends in in the front, and someone asked him a question about you because the hashtag and RT subreddit had been flooded with the news overnight, and he would look at you with this soft smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and tell the questioner that My favorite thing in the world right now is every second I get to hold her hand.

And yeah, it will be hard. And yeah, you and Trevor were too busy getting to know each other to talk about logistics and moving and things like that.

But by god, in that moment, listening to Trevor talk about you and smile at you like you were the moon to his sun, you knew in your heart that it would all work out just fine.

#ragehappy #rt reader insert #rt imagine #trevor x reader #trevor c x reader #soulmate au #fluffy soulmate stuff #someone tell me how to tag

[verdigrisprowl]

Oct 4 Blurr’s Horror Stream - Halloween

Prowl let Bonecrusher fiddle around with his holomatter avatar, and Bonecrusher used it to go to Blurr’s movie night and show off that he’s made an avatar that looks like Nova Prime. He talked art with Buzzsaw, proved to Blurr that he’s not as smart as he thinks he is, and acted like a lil shit to sheet metal Soundwave.

Which is why Soundwave is now watching his every move.

Welcome to the 'speedxstealer' room. The chat room has been cleared by the moderator. ItsyBitsySpyers: test)) B l u r r: [[lemme know if the music is too low / loud ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: music is good)) B l u r r: [[ okay ]] B l u r r: / Welcome to The Emperor! Decked out for Halloween to the fullest. Bats and crows and lots of black and orange decorations along the walls. / B l u r r: / There are glowing jack-o-lanterns made out of old helms. Wires used for decoration and many other things from a bot. / Error logging out. B l u r r: /and so. MANY. SNACKS. / Error logging out. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Bird heard Halloween. Halloween means a ton of free food. She is HERE. And the others are following.* B l u r r: / good because there is plenty of free food. / ItsyBitsySpyers: [[It is him. He is watching.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: *Settles into their usual spot.* B l u r r: / excuse. Pardon . Here comes the halloween king / B l u r r: / With Oberyn right behind him. / ItsyBitsySpyers: *Ravage hisses quietly* B l u r r: / wiggles claws at Ravage / B l u r r: / Oberyn will growl at Ravage / Bonecrusher: *AND BEHOLD, THE STARRY-WHITE FORM OF NOVA PRIME HIMSELF DID THUSLY APPEAR IN THE MIDST OF THE ROOM, WITH A DAZZLING BURST OF PURIFYING LIGHT.* Bonecrusher: Sup. B l u r r: / Oberyn will just growl at whatever that is, too / B l u r r: ... Can I /help/ you? Bonecrusher: *"Nova Prime" growls back.* Bonecrusher: Yeah. Hey. This is the movie night Boss usedta come to, right? Uh, the Emperor? ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave places a squinting smiley on his screen.* B l u r r: ... Yes. B l u r r: / sticks a rust stick in his mouth/ This is my ship. Bonecrusher: Hey, sheet metal. *Fingerguns at Soundwave.* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[..."Sheet metal"...?]] Bonecrusher: Boss let me play with his holomatter avatar. Bonecrusher: Yeah. Cuz you're flat. Bevel: *appears in the room by opening the door and tromping through it* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Whatever else he has to say is drowned out by delayed but delirious applause from Buzzsaw, via LOUD wing rattling* B l u r r: / waves at Bevel / Bevel: *waves to Blurr* ItsyBitsySpyers: }}Splendid. Beautiful. I -must- see the files.{{ Bonecrusher: *Oh, someone who appreciates the work he put into his avatar! Bows.* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Greetings, Blurr, Bevel. ... Bonecrusher.]] B l u r r: / rolls optic / B l u r r: / flops down on his couch. Oberyn will stand beside the arm rest and settle on the floor / Bonecrusher: Yeah, sure. It ain't done yet, I'm gonna hack off chunks of his armor and put rust underneath. Bevel: *perks at the avatar talk* Bonecrusher: *Takes a heavy seat near his fellow artist.* S'posed t' symbolize the corruption of the Golden Age. All shiny on top 'n' corroding underneath. Bonecrusher: Kinda heavy-handed but I'm still figurin' out the program, thought it'd be good texture practice. B l u r r: But are you REALLY rusting? Bonecrusher: Naw. Bevel: Extra heavy handed. Make his paint gold. B l u r r: ... Pity. B l u r r: It doesn't feel so bad once you're used to it. Bonecrusher: I can make 'em both. Bonecrusher: Huh. *looks at his arm* I was goin' for the whole "purity" thing, but gaudiness works too. Bonecrusher: ((cmon livestream you KNOW those were supposed to go the other way around)) B l u r r: [ lemme know when all are ready, i guess ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((ready)) Bonecrusher: ((ready!)) ItsyBitsySpyers: *A feeler claw snaps.* ItsyBitsySpyers: }}Little hands. Reaching through gaps.{{ ItsyBitsySpyers: }}Only visible up close.{{ Bevel: *snickers* Bonecrusher: ... Huh. What, t'be the people caught in the rust? B l u r r: / shoves another rust stick between his denta/ B l u r r: Mechs like to make rust a big deal. B l u r r: It's really not. B l u r r: [[ kay if were all ready then imma start ]] Bonecrusher: S'good symbolism. B l u r r: ... having rust? ItsyBitsySpyers: }}Yes! Yes, exactly.{{ He points at Blurr. }}You simply don't want to acknowledge that it is.{{ B l u r r: ... Acknowledge that it is /what/ ? ItsyBitsySpyers: ((I'M SO READY)) Bonecrusher: If there's little hands in the rust then there's gotta be, like, Senator faces reflected on the pretty armor. B l u r r: [[ oh yeah im assuming you guys still need captions? ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: }}Unhealthy.{{ ItsyBitsySpyers: ((yes please)) Bevel: ((please and thank you B l u r r: It isn't unhealthy. B l u r r: I mean, normal mechs probably think it is. Bonecrusher: Don't even know howta make the armor reflect things that aren't there. Bet there's a way to do it though. I ain't worked much with holograms. ItsyBitsySpyers: }}Joint experiment?{{ Bonecrusher: ... Maybe. You do much with holograms? B l u r r: / slouches in his couch and chews on more rust sticks. Pats Oberyn / ItsyBitsySpyers: }}You are familiar with my work.{{ ItsyBitsySpyers: *Ravage slinks over to Blurr, careful to avoid Oberyn by a mile* ItsyBitsySpyers: *And parks on the other side* B l u r r: / reaches over to let Ravage give him permission to pet / ItsyBitsySpyers: *Headbutt* Bonecrusher: Yeah, you done a good job on Boss's avatar. B l u r r: / Oberyn is on the floor on the other side. He okay / B l u r r: / pats Ravage's helm and scritches a little / B l u r r: Like the decorations? They're all freshly made. B l u r r: Raided a ship for its cargo. Found a few great jack-o-lanterns. Bonecrusher: *gross Nova Prime gagging noises at the movie. humans, being physical.* ItsyBitsySpyers: =They smell delicious.= B l u r r: Well, I suppose I could let you go home with a treat if you'd like. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\AM I LATE? AM I LATE?\\ B l u r r: Even if it's not Halloween just yet. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy skids in on his heelies and nearly trips* Bonecrusher: ... She ain't even bleedin'. B l u r r: [[ i love the amount of not concern on the parents faces ]]] B l u r r: [[ "Godd damnnn it , he did it again, John." ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: *Ravage glowers at Frenzy for interrupting before looking up at Blurr* =Will be patient.= Bonecrusher: (("golly, michael, what'd we tell you about stabbing your sister?")) B l u r r: Good. I've got quite a lot planned this year, you see. B l u r r: It's my recycle date! / self assigned/ ItsyBitsySpyers: *Buzzsaw dips low in thanks for the compliment before floating up again* Bonecrusher: What, that the day they're gonna kill ya? B l u r r: ... No, that's the day I was recycled to be made. B l u r r: Put together, so to speak. Bonecrusher: ... Ya made outta trash? B l u r r: ... / tilts helm. Give him a moment. Hums / Yes. B l u r r: Put together with recycled parts and power sources. Bonecrusher: Heh. That a shrink? Shrinks suck. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[That is less effective on a Cybertronian. For the record.]] B l u r r: I swear, October is the only month I would visit that disgusting planet. B l u r r: Despite being a useless species, they aren'tso bad with Halloween. Bevel: What is less effective? Bonecrusher: Ain't nothin' a flesh bag can do would be effective on a Cybertronian. B l u r r: [[ bruh, neddles. you know she's gonna be in the new halloween, right? ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Cracking windows with a servo or feeler. It inspires more irritation than fear.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((I AM SUPER AWARE)) ItsyBitsySpyers: \\LISTEN. LISTEN. YOU AIN'T SEEN THEM MECH HUMANS.\\ B l u r r: [[ i love it oh my god. She's my favorite ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: \\THEY HOLLOWED BREAKDOWN UP 'N MADE A SUIT OUTTA HIM. NASTY. COOL. BUT NASTY.\\ Bonecrusher: Mech-humans? What, like cyborgs? Bevel: Ew. B l u r r: They also like to make their own Cybertronians Bonecrusher: Saw 'em make Sunstreaker suits. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\NAW. THAT WAS LIKE. THE GROUP  NAME.\\ Bonecrusher: Only the Autoboobs was dumb enough to get caught. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Make their own? They was Sunstreakers too? When did Sunstreaker get it?// Bonecrusher: Uh... frag, I dunno, like a decade ago? Bonecrusher: Think it messed up his head. He's fraggin' a bug now. B l u r r: That's because the Autobots in /other/ universes are too nice. ItsyBitsySpyers: //...What, like Kickback or somethin'?// Bonecrusher: Yeah, 'cept Kickback's got a brain. This one don't. B l u r r: [[ i would die in that class with that teacher's bored voice ]] Bonecrusher: ((the true monster in this movie: bad english teachers)) B l u r r: true horror ]] Bonecrusher: Bet it was the doctor that fragged him up. B l u r r: thats usually what they do B l u r r: [[ lemme know if it drops ]] Bonecrusher: Humans are nasty. B l u r r: [[ cause its telling me its dropping a lot ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: {{Gross nasty ooze meat. Good if got treat. Not good if no goodie.}} Bonecrusher: ((it's not dropping here)) Bonecrusher: I wouldn't eat nothin' humans touched. ... Unless it was, like, triple-filtered. B l u r r: They cook horrible things. ItsyBitsySpyers: {{Bird clean first.}} B l u r r: [[ oh, nice, Itunes. ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((it's dropping some)) Bonecrusher: ((would you look at these girls that definitely aren't high schoolers in the slightest)) B l u r r: [[ It's my itunes screwing up, too. ]] Bonecrusher: ((yep, now it's doing weird shiit.)) Bonecrusher: ((i think it's straightening out tho)) B l u r r: [[ well, im gonna get up to get food, so if it messes up, poke me on skype ]] Bonecrusher: ((feast!)) ItsyBitsySpyers: \\I WISH HE WOULDA FINISHED THE STORY.\\ Bonecrusher: What's a hollow-ween? B l u r r: It's the best holiday in existence ItsyBitsySpyers: {{Is best holiday, yes, yes. Scare everybody, get snack, have party.}} Bonecrusher: People give you free scrap on, uh. Cross-miss. B l u r r: That holiday is a waste B l u r r: Halloween is better. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\YEAH, BUT YA DON'T GET TO SCARE 'EM.\\ ItsyBitsySpyers: \\OR COSTUME UP ALL MONSTERLIKE.\\ B l u r r: It's honestly  the best. Bonecrusher: Hey, I already got monster armor. *Puffs his Nova armor.* B l u r r: [[brb ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave huffs louder than usual* Bonecrusher: When do more humans start dyin'? B l u r r: when it gets there. B l u r r: [[ i forgot there was no dinner. im too lazy to hunt ]] Bonecrusher: ((EAT, SPEEDY)) ItsyBitsySpyers: \\YOU GOTTA ANTRIPLICATE THE DYIN'. GET ALL TENSE 'N SCRAP.\\ Bonecrusher: Don't wanna be tense. I just wanna watch humans die. B l u r r: They're awful slow. Human killers. Bonecrusher: I coulda chewed up everyone in this movie by now. B l u r r: I wouldn't recommend eating them. B l u r r: They get stuck between your denta. Bonecrusher: I know howta floss. Bevel: I like all the lights humans put up on Cross-miss. B l u r r: So do I. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Ravage does too, heh heh.// ItsyBitsySpyers: *Ravage growls. Rumble wasn't supposed to tell that.* B l u r r: I prefer mechs, however. Much better. Can taste the emotions and data. Bevel: *smiles at Ravage anyway* Bonecrusher: Ehhhh, I just like the crunch. Bonecrusher: And the screamin'.

ItsyBitsySpyers: }}Yes! Yes, exactly.{{ He points at Blurr. }}You simply don't want to acknowledge that it is.{{ B l u r r: ... Acknowledge that it is /what/ ? ItsyBitsySpyers: ((I'M SO READY)) Bonecrusher: If there's little hands in the rust then there's gotta be, like, Senator faces reflected on the pretty armor. B l u r r: [[ oh yeah im assuming you guys still need captions? ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: }}Unhealthy.{{ ItsyBitsySpyers: ((yes please)) Bevel: ((please and thank you B l u r r: It isn't unhealthy. B l u r r: I mean, normal mechs probably think it is. Bonecrusher: Don't even know howta make the armor reflect things that aren't there. Bet there's a way to do it though. I ain't worked much with holograms. ItsyBitsySpyers: }}Joint experiment?{{ Bonecrusher: ... Maybe. You do much with holograms? B l u r r: / slouches in his couch and chews on more rust sticks. Pats Oberyn / ItsyBitsySpyers: }}You are familiar with my work.{{ ItsyBitsySpyers: *Ravage slinks over to Blurr, careful to avoid Oberyn by a mile* ItsyBitsySpyers: *And parks on the other side* B l u r r: / reaches over to let Ravage give him permission to pet / ItsyBitsySpyers: *Headbutt* Bonecrusher: Yeah, you done a good job on Boss's avatar. B l u r r: / Oberyn is on the floor on the other side. He okay / B l u r r: / pats Ravage's helm and scritches a little / B l u r r: Like the decorations? They're all freshly made. B l u r r: Raided a ship for its cargo. Found a few great jack-o-lanterns. Bonecrusher: *gross Nova Prime gagging noises at the movie. humans, being physical.* ItsyBitsySpyers: =They smell delicious.= B l u r r: Well, I suppose I could let you go home with a treat if you'd like. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\AM I LATE? AM I LATE?\\ B l u r r: Even if it's not Halloween just yet. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy skids in on his heelies and nearly trips* Bonecrusher: ... She ain't even bleedin'. B l u r r: [[ i love the amount of not concern on the parents faces ]]] B l u r r: [[ "Godd damnnn it , he did it again, John." ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: *Ravage glowers at Frenzy for interrupting before looking up at Blurr* =Will be patient.= Bonecrusher: (("golly, michael, what'd we tell you about stabbing your sister?")) B l u r r: Good. I've got quite a lot planned this year, you see. B l u r r: It's my recycle date! / self assigned/ ItsyBitsySpyers: *Buzzsaw dips low in thanks for the compliment before floating up again* Bonecrusher: What, that the day they're gonna kill ya? B l u r r: ... No, that's the day I was recycled to be made. B l u r r: Put together, so to speak. Bonecrusher: ... Ya made outta trash? B l u r r: ... / tilts helm. Give him a moment. Hums / Yes. B l u r r: Put together with recycled parts and power sources. Bonecrusher: Heh. That a shrink? Shrinks suck. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[That is less effective on a Cybertronian. For the record.]] B l u r r: I swear, October is the only month I would visit that disgusting planet. B l u r r: Despite being a useless species, they aren'tso bad with Halloween. Bevel: What is less effective? Bonecrusher: Ain't nothin' a flesh bag can do would be effective on a Cybertronian. B l u r r: [[ bruh, neddles. you know she's gonna be in the new halloween, right? ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Cracking windows with a servo or feeler. It inspires more irritation than fear.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((I AM SUPER AWARE)) ItsyBitsySpyers: \\LISTEN. LISTEN. YOU AIN'T SEEN THEM MECH HUMANS.\\ B l u r r: [[ i love it oh my god. She's my favorite ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: \\THEY HOLLOWED BREAKDOWN UP 'N MADE A SUIT OUTTA HIM. NASTY. COOL. BUT NASTY.\\ Bonecrusher: Mech-humans? What, like cyborgs? Bevel: Ew. B l u r r: They also like to make their own Cybertronians Bonecrusher: Saw 'em make Sunstreaker suits. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\NAW. THAT WAS LIKE. THE GROUP  NAME.\\ Bonecrusher: Only the Autoboobs was dumb enough to get caught. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Make their own? They was Sunstreakers too? When did Sunstreaker get it?// Bonecrusher: Uh... frag, I dunno, like a decade ago? Bonecrusher: Think it messed up his head. He's fraggin' a bug now. B l u r r: That's because the Autobots in /other/ universes are too nice. ItsyBitsySpyers: //...What, like Kickback or somethin'?// Bonecrusher: Yeah, 'cept Kickback's got a brain. This one don't. B l u r r: [[ i would die in that class with that teacher's bored voice ]] Bonecrusher: ((the true monster in this movie: bad english teachers)) B l u r r: true horror ]] Bonecrusher: Bet it was the doctor that fragged him up. B l u r r: thats usually what they do B l u r r: [[ lemme know if it drops ]] Bonecrusher: Humans are nasty. B l u r r: [[ cause its telling me its dropping a lot ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: {{Gross nasty ooze meat. Good if got treat. Not good if no goodie.}} Bonecrusher: ((it's not dropping here)) Bonecrusher: I wouldn't eat nothin' humans touched. ... Unless it was, like, triple-filtered. B l u r r: They cook horrible things. ItsyBitsySpyers: {{Bird clean first.}} B l u r r: [[ oh, nice, Itunes. ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((it's dropping some)) Bonecrusher: ((would you look at these girls that definitely aren't high schoolers in the slightest)) B l u r r: [[ It's my itunes screwing up, too. ]] Bonecrusher: ((yep, now it's doing weird shiit.)) Bonecrusher: ((i think it's straightening out tho)) B l u r r: [[ well, im gonna get up to get food, so if it messes up, poke me on skype ]] Bonecrusher: ((feast!)) ItsyBitsySpyers: \\I WISH HE WOULDA FINISHED THE STORY.\\ Bonecrusher: What's a hollow-ween? B l u r r: It's the best holiday in existence ItsyBitsySpyers: {{Is best holiday, yes, yes. Scare everybody, get snack, have party.}} Bonecrusher: People give you free scrap on, uh. Cross-miss. B l u r r: That holiday is a waste B l u r r: Halloween is better. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\YEAH, BUT YA DON'T GET TO SCARE 'EM.\\ ItsyBitsySpyers: \\OR COSTUME UP ALL MONSTERLIKE.\\ B l u r r: It's honestly  the best. Bonecrusher: Hey, I already got monster armor. *Puffs his Nova armor.* B l u r r: [[brb ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave huffs louder than usual* Bonecrusher: When do more humans start dyin'? B l u r r: when it gets there. B l u r r: [[ i forgot there was no dinner. im too lazy to hunt ]] Bonecrusher: ((EAT, SPEEDY)) ItsyBitsySpyers: \\YOU GOTTA ANTRIPLICATE THE DYIN'. GET ALL TENSE 'N SCRAP.\\ Bonecrusher: Don't wanna be tense. I just wanna watch humans die. B l u r r: They're awful slow. Human killers. Bonecrusher: I coulda chewed up everyone in this movie by now. B l u r r: I wouldn't recommend eating them. B l u r r: They get stuck between your denta. Bonecrusher: I know howta floss. Bevel: I like all the lights humans put up on Cross-miss. B l u r r: So do I. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Ravage does too, heh heh.// ItsyBitsySpyers: *Ravage growls. Rumble wasn't supposed to tell that.* B l u r r: I prefer mechs, however. Much better. Can taste the emotions and data. Bevel: *smiles at Ravage anyway* Bonecrusher: Ehhhh, I just like the crunch. Bonecrusher: And the screamin'. ItsyBitsySpyers: //How come you ain't called Bonecruncher?// B l u r r: it's fun toscare them Bonecrusher: ... I 'unno. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Pfffffffhfhfhf Tarantula-man.// B l u r r: Humans are awfully fun to play with. B l u r r: [[ funny story: one of the managers we had at buffalo literally used to talk and walk like meyers and asked a server out on a date ]] B l u r r: [[ the more you know. *rainbow motion* ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: [[omg]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((..er, omg. without telepathy)) Bonecrusher: ((creepy)) B l u r r: [[ oh and he was much older ]] B l u r r: [[ so yes it was very creepy. ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((ew)) Bevel: ((eww B l u r r: [[ yes it was very ew ]] B l u r r: ... She literally spilled one thing on her clothes and needs to wash them right now? B l u r r: Dramatic. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Some of us prefer to keep clean.]] Bonecrusher: Why do they bother? B l u r r: I don't know. B l u r r: It's a waste. B l u r r: That little one is useless, too. B l u r r: [[ this little girl always annoyed me ]] Bonecrusher: They're still nasty. Did ya know humans got these tiny spigots all over their flesh that drip slime all the time? B l u r r: ... Slime? B l u r r: Never met a human that dripped slime. Bonecrusher: Yeah. They're always greasy and moist. B l u r r: That's sweat. Bonecrusher: YEAH. That's it. ItsyBitsySpyers: //It's gross.// B l u r r: Yes, humans are disgusting. Wing: *he's late. forever late. he's also not sure about being here. just let him slip quietly along the back* Bonecrusher: *hey there new guy, tonight Nova Fragging Prime is sitting on a couch.* Sup. B l u r r: She's an idiot anyway. Wearing those ugly yellow socks with anything. Wing: *well, he tried* *wave* Bonecrusher: What're socks? B l u r r: Those things on her legs ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Clothes. Weak leg armor.]] Bonecrusher: Oh. Bonecrusher: ((oh my god this lil kid tryna ninja around)) ItsyBitsySpyers: //Sounds like the Boss.// Bevel: Death? B l u r r: Tsk. Bonecrusher: Starin' at the wall like an idiot? ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Neither, thank you.]] B l u r r: ... Maybe he didn't see the wall. ItsyBitsySpyers: ((oh god this jackass and his line)) Bonecrusher: ((ew)) B l u r r: yeah ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((agreed)) Bonecrusher: ((so when do they get stabbed)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((not soon enough)) B l u r r: well, they're already breaking the three rules so ]] B l u r r: [[ ive shown scream, right? That's my favorite movie ]] Wing: ((saaaame)) Wing: ((I mean besides Rocky Horror)) Wing: ((and Return of the Living Dead)) Wing: (( @___@ I can't decide ***)) B l u r r: [[ i think id like to reshow cabin in the woods. ]] Bonecrusher: ((cabin in the woods is gr8)) B l u r r: [[ it is a favorite ]] Bonecrusher: *disgusted Nova Prime noises* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy stage whispers* \\TOO OVERCHARGED TO KEEP GOIN'\\ Bonecrusher: Turn that slag off, only one of us in here's a voyeur. Bonecrusher: ... *COUGH*soundwave*COUGH* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Ugh. He isn't interested in humans.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Or most mechs.]] Bevel: *ugh interfacing movies* B l u r r: / snort / ItsyBitsySpyers: *Please, Primus, don't let Bonecrusher mention the recent thing.* Wing: *never mind. he'll just slip back out again and return home* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Rumble throws a half-afted salute at Wing* Bonecrusher: MOST mechs. Wing: ((I tried. he's not having it)) ItsyBitsySpyers: *Slow turn to stare at Bonecrusher.* Bonecrusher: *if Nova didn't have a battlemask Bonecrusher would be giving him the smuggest smirk.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Congratulations, Bonecrusher. You've guaranteed he's going to be staring at you all the rest of the night. Without moving.* ItsyBitsySpyers: //Don't nobody call cops?// Bonecrusher: *you keep staring, sheet metal.*

B l u r r: / Oberyn is on the floor on the other side. He okay / B l u r r: / pats Ravage's helm and scritches a little / B l u r r: Like the decorations? They're all freshly made. B l u r r: Raided a ship for its cargo. Found a few great jack-o-lanterns. Bonecrusher: *gross Nova Prime gagging noises at the movie. humans, being physical.* ItsyBitsySpyers: =They smell delicious.= B l u r r: Well, I suppose I could let you go home with a treat if you'd like. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\AM I LATE? AM I LATE?\\ B l u r r: Even if it's not Halloween just yet. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy skids in on his heelies and nearly trips* Bonecrusher: ... She ain't even bleedin'. B l u r r: [[ i love the amount of not concern on the parents faces ]]] B l u r r: [[ "Godd damnnn it , he did it again, John." ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: *Ravage glowers at Frenzy for interrupting before looking up at Blurr* =Will be patient.= Bonecrusher: (("golly, michael, what'd we tell you about stabbing your sister?")) B l u r r: Good. I've got quite a lot planned this year, you see. B l u r r: It's my recycle date! / self assigned/ ItsyBitsySpyers: *Buzzsaw dips low in thanks for the compliment before floating up again* Bonecrusher: What, that the day they're gonna kill ya? B l u r r: ... No, that's the day I was recycled to be made. B l u r r: Put together, so to speak. Bonecrusher: ... Ya made outta trash? B l u r r: ... / tilts helm. Give him a moment. Hums / Yes. B l u r r: Put together with recycled parts and power sources. Bonecrusher: Heh. That a shrink? Shrinks suck. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[That is less effective on a Cybertronian. For the record.]] B l u r r: I swear, October is the only month I would visit that disgusting planet. B l u r r: Despite being a useless species, they aren'tso bad with Halloween. Bevel: What is less effective? Bonecrusher: Ain't nothin' a flesh bag can do would be effective on a Cybertronian. B l u r r: [[ bruh, neddles. you know she's gonna be in the new halloween, right? ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Cracking windows with a servo or feeler. It inspires more irritation than fear.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((I AM SUPER AWARE)) ItsyBitsySpyers: \\LISTEN. LISTEN. YOU AIN'T SEEN THEM MECH HUMANS.\\ B l u r r: [[ i love it oh my god. She's my favorite ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: \\THEY HOLLOWED BREAKDOWN UP 'N MADE A SUIT OUTTA HIM. NASTY. COOL. BUT NASTY.\\ Bonecrusher: Mech-humans? What, like cyborgs? Bevel: Ew. B l u r r: They also like to make their own Cybertronians Bonecrusher: Saw 'em make Sunstreaker suits. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\NAW. THAT WAS LIKE. THE GROUP  NAME.\\ Bonecrusher: Only the Autoboobs was dumb enough to get caught. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Make their own? They was Sunstreakers too? When did Sunstreaker get it?// Bonecrusher: Uh... frag, I dunno, like a decade ago? Bonecrusher: Think it messed up his head. He's fraggin' a bug now. B l u r r: That's because the Autobots in /other/ universes are too nice. ItsyBitsySpyers: //...What, like Kickback or somethin'?// Bonecrusher: Yeah, 'cept Kickback's got a brain. This one don't. B l u r r: [[ i would die in that class with that teacher's bored voice ]] Bonecrusher: ((the true monster in this movie: bad english teachers)) B l u r r: true horror ]] Bonecrusher: Bet it was the doctor that fragged him up. B l u r r: thats usually what they do B l u r r: [[ lemme know if it drops ]] Bonecrusher: Humans are nasty. B l u r r: [[ cause its telling me its dropping a lot ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: {{Gross nasty ooze meat. Good if got treat. Not good if no goodie.}} Bonecrusher: ((it's not dropping here)) Bonecrusher: I wouldn't eat nothin' humans touched. ... Unless it was, like, triple-filtered. B l u r r: They cook horrible things. ItsyBitsySpyers: {{Bird clean first.}} B l u r r: [[ oh, nice, Itunes. ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((it's dropping some)) Bonecrusher: ((would you look at these girls that definitely aren't high schoolers in the slightest)) B l u r r: [[ It's my itunes screwing up, too. ]] Bonecrusher: ((yep, now it's doing weird shiit.)) Bonecrusher: ((i think it's straightening out tho)) B l u r r: [[ well, im gonna get up to get food, so if it messes up, poke me on skype ]] Bonecrusher: ((feast!)) ItsyBitsySpyers: \\I WISH HE WOULDA FINISHED THE STORY.\\ Bonecrusher: What's a hollow-ween? B l u r r: It's the best holiday in existence ItsyBitsySpyers: {{Is best holiday, yes, yes. Scare everybody, get snack, have party.}} Bonecrusher: People give you free scrap on, uh. Cross-miss. B l u r r: That holiday is a waste B l u r r: Halloween is better. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\YEAH, BUT YA DON'T GET TO SCARE 'EM.\\ ItsyBitsySpyers: \\OR COSTUME UP ALL MONSTERLIKE.\\ B l u r r: It's honestly  the best. Bonecrusher: Hey, I already got monster armor. *Puffs his Nova armor.* B l u r r: [[brb ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave huffs louder than usual* Bonecrusher: When do more humans start dyin'? B l u r r: when it gets there. B l u r r: [[ i forgot there was no dinner. im too lazy to hunt ]] Bonecrusher: ((EAT, SPEEDY)) ItsyBitsySpyers: \\YOU GOTTA ANTRIPLICATE THE DYIN'. GET ALL TENSE 'N SCRAP.\\ Bonecrusher: Don't wanna be tense. I just wanna watch humans die. B l u r r: They're awful slow. Human killers. Bonecrusher: I coulda chewed up everyone in this movie by now. B l u r r: I wouldn't recommend eating them. B l u r r: They get stuck between your denta. Bonecrusher: I know howta floss. Bevel: I like all the lights humans put up on Cross-miss. B l u r r: So do I. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Ravage does too, heh heh.// ItsyBitsySpyers: *Ravage growls. Rumble wasn't supposed to tell that.* B l u r r: I prefer mechs, however. Much better. Can taste the emotions and data. Bevel: *smiles at Ravage anyway* Bonecrusher: Ehhhh, I just like the crunch. Bonecrusher: And the screamin'. ItsyBitsySpyers: //How come you ain't called Bonecruncher?// B l u r r: it's fun toscare them Bonecrusher: ... I 'unno. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Pfffffffhfhfhf Tarantula-man.// B l u r r: Humans are awfully fun to play with. B l u r r: [[ funny story: one of the managers we had at buffalo literally used to talk and walk like meyers and asked a server out on a date ]] B l u r r: [[ the more you know. *rainbow motion* ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: [[omg]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((..er, omg. without telepathy)) Bonecrusher: ((creepy)) B l u r r: [[ oh and he was much older ]] B l u r r: [[ so yes it was very creepy. ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((ew)) Bevel: ((eww B l u r r: [[ yes it was very ew ]] B l u r r: ... She literally spilled one thing on her clothes and needs to wash them right now? B l u r r: Dramatic. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Some of us prefer to keep clean.]] Bonecrusher: Why do they bother? B l u r r: I don't know. B l u r r: It's a waste. B l u r r: That little one is useless, too. B l u r r: [[ this little girl always annoyed me ]] Bonecrusher: They're still nasty. Did ya know humans got these tiny spigots all over their flesh that drip slime all the time? B l u r r: ... Slime? B l u r r: Never met a human that dripped slime. Bonecrusher: Yeah. They're always greasy and moist. B l u r r: That's sweat. Bonecrusher: YEAH. That's it. ItsyBitsySpyers: //It's gross.// B l u r r: Yes, humans are disgusting. Wing: *he's late. forever late. he's also not sure about being here. just let him slip quietly along the back* Bonecrusher: *hey there new guy, tonight Nova Fragging Prime is sitting on a couch.* Sup. B l u r r: She's an idiot anyway. Wearing those ugly yellow socks with anything. Wing: *well, he tried* *wave* Bonecrusher: What're socks? B l u r r: Those things on her legs ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Clothes. Weak leg armor.]] Bonecrusher: Oh. Bonecrusher: ((oh my god this lil kid tryna ninja around)) ItsyBitsySpyers: //Sounds like the Boss.// Bevel: Death? B l u r r: Tsk. Bonecrusher: Starin' at the wall like an idiot? ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Neither, thank you.]] B l u r r: ... Maybe he didn't see the wall. ItsyBitsySpyers: ((oh god this jackass and his line)) Bonecrusher: ((ew)) B l u r r: yeah ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((agreed)) Bonecrusher: ((so when do they get stabbed)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((not soon enough)) B l u r r: well, they're already breaking the three rules so ]] B l u r r: [[ ive shown scream, right? That's my favorite movie ]] Wing: ((saaaame)) Wing: ((I mean besides Rocky Horror)) Wing: ((and Return of the Living Dead)) Wing: (( @___@ I can't decide ***)) B l u r r: [[ i think id like to reshow cabin in the woods. ]] Bonecrusher: ((cabin in the woods is gr8)) B l u r r: [[ it is a favorite ]] Bonecrusher: *disgusted Nova Prime noises* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy stage whispers* \\TOO OVERCHARGED TO KEEP GOIN'\\ Bonecrusher: Turn that slag off, only one of us in here's a voyeur. Bonecrusher: ... *COUGH*soundwave*COUGH* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Ugh. He isn't interested in humans.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Or most mechs.]] Bevel: *ugh interfacing movies* B l u r r: / snort / ItsyBitsySpyers: *Please, Primus, don't let Bonecrusher mention the recent thing.* Wing: *never mind. he'll just slip back out again and return home* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Rumble throws a half-afted salute at Wing* Bonecrusher: MOST mechs. Wing: ((I tried. he's not having it)) ItsyBitsySpyers: *Slow turn to stare at Bonecrusher.* Bonecrusher: *if Nova didn't have a battlemask Bonecrusher would be giving him the smuggest smirk.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Congratulations, Bonecrusher. You've guaranteed he's going to be staring at you all the rest of the night. Without moving.* ItsyBitsySpyers: //Don't nobody call cops?// Bonecrusher: *you keep staring, sheet metal.* Bonecrusher: How come humans are so dumb? Bonecrusher: Turn the fraggin' lights on. B l u r r: They never do ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy scoots closer* ItsyBitsySpyers: \\DRAMATIC FRAGGER, AIN'T HE.\\ Bonecrusher: ((is he like, standing somewhere with a bunch of tripwires to pull open the doors at the right time)) B l u r r: [[plot twist: he's the home alone kid gone wild ] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((they did say someone stole rope along with masks)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((omg blurr)) Bonecrusher: ((omg)) Bonecrusher: (("leave ME at home whole they go to paris, will they?!")) B l u r r: [[ "FOR THREE VACATIONS " ]] B l u r r: [[ he finally had it ]] Bonecrusher: They're punchin' through doors and windows like they're nothin'. Shoddy construction. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Well, yeah. It ain't good metal. It's like. Tree.// Bonecrusher: Yeah, but humans are made outta meat. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Only thing can't beat a tree's the Prime.// Bevel: *laughs* B l u r r: /scoff/ Depends on the prime, I suppose. Bonecrusher: *doesn't get it, but thinks that it's an insult to the prime, so laughs*

Bonecrusher: ((EAT, SPEEDY)) ItsyBitsySpyers: \\YOU GOTTA ANTRIPLICATE THE DYIN'. GET ALL TENSE 'N SCRAP.\\ Bonecrusher: Don't wanna be tense. I just wanna watch humans die. B l u r r: They're awful slow. Human killers. Bonecrusher: I coulda chewed up everyone in this movie by now. B l u r r: I wouldn't recommend eating them. B l u r r: They get stuck between your denta. Bonecrusher: I know howta floss. Bevel: I like all the lights humans put up on Cross-miss. B l u r r: So do I. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Ravage does too, heh heh.// ItsyBitsySpyers: *Ravage growls. Rumble wasn't supposed to tell that.* B l u r r: I prefer mechs, however. Much better. Can taste the emotions and data. Bevel: *smiles at Ravage anyway* Bonecrusher: Ehhhh, I just like the crunch. Bonecrusher: And the screamin'. ItsyBitsySpyers: //How come you ain't called Bonecruncher?// B l u r r: it's fun toscare them Bonecrusher: ... I 'unno. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Pfffffffhfhfhf Tarantula-man.// B l u r r: Humans are awfully fun to play with. B l u r r: [[ funny story: one of the managers we had at buffalo literally used to talk and walk like meyers and asked a server out on a date ]] B l u r r: [[ the more you know. *rainbow motion* ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: [[omg]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((..er, omg. without telepathy)) Bonecrusher: ((creepy)) B l u r r: [[ oh and he was much older ]] B l u r r: [[ so yes it was very creepy. ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((ew)) Bevel: ((eww B l u r r: [[ yes it was very ew ]] B l u r r: ... She literally spilled one thing on her clothes and needs to wash them right now? B l u r r: Dramatic. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Some of us prefer to keep clean.]] Bonecrusher: Why do they bother? B l u r r: I don't know. B l u r r: It's a waste. B l u r r: That little one is useless, too. B l u r r: [[ this little girl always annoyed me ]] Bonecrusher: They're still nasty. Did ya know humans got these tiny spigots all over their flesh that drip slime all the time? B l u r r: ... Slime? B l u r r: Never met a human that dripped slime. Bonecrusher: Yeah. They're always greasy and moist. B l u r r: That's sweat. Bonecrusher: YEAH. That's it. ItsyBitsySpyers: //It's gross.// B l u r r: Yes, humans are disgusting. Wing: *he's late. forever late. he's also not sure about being here. just let him slip quietly along the back* Bonecrusher: *hey there new guy, tonight Nova Fragging Prime is sitting on a couch.* Sup. B l u r r: She's an idiot anyway. Wearing those ugly yellow socks with anything. Wing: *well, he tried* *wave* Bonecrusher: What're socks? B l u r r: Those things on her legs ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Clothes. Weak leg armor.]] Bonecrusher: Oh. Bonecrusher: ((oh my god this lil kid tryna ninja around)) ItsyBitsySpyers: //Sounds like the Boss.// Bevel: Death? B l u r r: Tsk. Bonecrusher: Starin' at the wall like an idiot? ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Neither, thank you.]] B l u r r: ... Maybe he didn't see the wall. ItsyBitsySpyers: ((oh god this jackass and his line)) Bonecrusher: ((ew)) B l u r r: yeah ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((agreed)) Bonecrusher: ((so when do they get stabbed)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((not soon enough)) B l u r r: well, they're already breaking the three rules so ]] B l u r r: [[ ive shown scream, right? That's my favorite movie ]] Wing: ((saaaame)) Wing: ((I mean besides Rocky Horror)) Wing: ((and Return of the Living Dead)) Wing: (( @___@ I can't decide ***)) B l u r r: [[ i think id like to reshow cabin in the woods. ]] Bonecrusher: ((cabin in the woods is gr8)) B l u r r: [[ it is a favorite ]] Bonecrusher: *disgusted Nova Prime noises* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy stage whispers* \\TOO OVERCHARGED TO KEEP GOIN'\\ Bonecrusher: Turn that slag off, only one of us in here's a voyeur. Bonecrusher: ... *COUGH*soundwave*COUGH* ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Ugh. He isn't interested in humans.]] ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Or most mechs.]] Bevel: *ugh interfacing movies* B l u r r: / snort / ItsyBitsySpyers: *Please, Primus, don't let Bonecrusher mention the recent thing.* Wing: *never mind. he'll just slip back out again and return home* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Rumble throws a half-afted salute at Wing* Bonecrusher: MOST mechs. Wing: ((I tried. he's not having it)) ItsyBitsySpyers: *Slow turn to stare at Bonecrusher.* Bonecrusher: *if Nova didn't have a battlemask Bonecrusher would be giving him the smuggest smirk.* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Congratulations, Bonecrusher. You've guaranteed he's going to be staring at you all the rest of the night. Without moving.* ItsyBitsySpyers: //Don't nobody call cops?// Bonecrusher: *you keep staring, sheet metal.* Bonecrusher: How come humans are so dumb? Bonecrusher: Turn the fraggin' lights on. B l u r r: They never do ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy scoots closer* ItsyBitsySpyers: \\DRAMATIC FRAGGER, AIN'T HE.\\ Bonecrusher: ((is he like, standing somewhere with a bunch of tripwires to pull open the doors at the right time)) B l u r r: [[plot twist: he's the home alone kid gone wild ] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((they did say someone stole rope along with masks)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((omg blurr)) Bonecrusher: ((omg)) Bonecrusher: (("leave ME at home whole they go to paris, will they?!")) B l u r r: [[ "FOR THREE VACATIONS " ]] B l u r r: [[ he finally had it ]] Bonecrusher: They're punchin' through doors and windows like they're nothin'. Shoddy construction. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Well, yeah. It ain't good metal. It's like. Tree.// Bonecrusher: Yeah, but humans are made outta meat. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Only thing can't beat a tree's the Prime.// Bevel: *laughs* B l u r r: /scoff/ Depends on the prime, I suppose. Bonecrusher: *doesn't get it, but thinks that it's an insult to the prime, so laughs* ItsyBitsySpyers: \\FINISH HIM!\\ Bonecrusher: *... Is Soundwave still staring?* ItsyBitsySpyers: *yeeeeep* Bonecrusher: *............... that's fine.* ItsyBitsySpyers: //What, your Prime never been tree-punched?// ItsyBitsySpyers: //I ain't believin' it.// B l u r r: / vents/ Honestly. B l u r r: My Prime? Never. Bonecrusher: You saw him punch through a door 'n' you think that one's gonna stop him? It's got holes in it? B l u r r: Well, she'smaking noise, so he knows she's there Bonecrusher: Moron. B l u r r: / tenses up and flinches just slightly / Bonecrusher: ... What, he's dead already? Bonecrusher: Oh. B l u r r: Well, guess he's not dead dead. B l u r r: Which means the monster wins. /chews on another rust stick / Bonecrusher: Whaddaya mean, he was shot like twenty times. B l u r r: yeah but he got away Bevel: Humans can survive a lot of really bad stuff sometimes. Maybe he will too. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\HE FOLLOWS HER SOME MORE. LIKE. TO A HOSPITAL.\\ ItsyBitsySpyers: \\MAYBE HE FIXES HIMSELF UP OR SOMETHIN'.\\ Bevel: Oh no B l u r r: Not as mysterious as Jason. Bonecrusher: ... But humans are weak. B l u r r: Consistently so. Bevel: Is Jason another murderer guy? B l u r r: Mm yes. B l u r r: He's from a different movie. ItsyBitsySpyers: //You sound kinda scared.// Rumble grins at Bonecrusher. B l u r r: / snicker/ Oh, is he? Bonecrusher: NAW. I'm mad. It's stupid. He's supposed t'be dead. B l u r r: So, you'd rather the good guys win? Bonecrusher: *looks at Blurr like he's crazy.* Bonecrusher: Who gives a frag? They're all humans. B l u r r: But if you had to choose. Bevel: *know what she'd choose but no one's asking her* Bevel: *will happily reach over to look at some of Blurr's decorations for the room* Bonecrusher: I'd choose to step on all of them. B l u r r: / good. check out the deco's / B l u r r: I'm saying if you had to choose between the person ridding the world of more humans or the humans saving other humans Bonecrusher: *Squints* ... I don't give a frag. I wanna step on all of them. B l u r r: ...Ah. A processor is a horrible thing to waste. B l u r r: / sticks another rust stick in his mouth/ Bonecrusher: Hey! What's that supposed to mean?! B l u r r: It means you're not broadening your thought process. Bonecrusher: What's THAT supposed to mean?! You callin' me stupid? B l u r r: No. If I wanted to call you stupid, I would. B l u r r: / cracks the rust stick in half / B l u r r: I'm asking you if you had to choose. You're choosing an option not given. Bonecrusher: *... now he's confused. default to aggression* You're callin' me stupid! Hey! Maybe I don't give a frag bout your dumb question, how 'bout that? You think of that, smart guy? Huh? B l u r r: K-KYAHAHAHAA!! B l u r r: / kicks a leg out. Cackling loudly / Bonecrusher: WHO YOU LAUGHING AT?! B l u r r: He gets angry!! /jumps up to his pedes / Like I said, if I was calling you stupid, I would have. ItsyBitsySpyers: *He's absolutely giving this to Prowl later.* B l u r r: [[ i hope he gives it to prowl with the background music ]] Bonecrusher: You think I'm too dumb to know when someone's callin' me stupid?! Huh?! B l u r r: Absolutely not. I think you're intelligent to know that I'm blunt and when I want to call someone stupid, I will. Bonecrusher: ... YEAH. S'right. I am. Frag straight. B l u r r: / smirks / B l u r r: What's a mech like you doing these days, hn? B l u r r: With all that intelligence, one would think you could run any cat 1 raid. Bonecrusher: Run a what? I mean—YEAH. Sure. I could. If I wanted. Got better slag to do though. B l u r r: Oh? Like what? B l u r r: / smirks at vacant side/ He's so smart, isn't he? /nod nod nod. Dodge and Velocity are dying of laughter fyi / Bonecrusher: Who you talkin' to. B l u r r: /smirks and motions to his sides / Dodge. Velocity. Bonecrusher: *Squints.* ... Don't see nobody. B l u r r: / makes a face/  Oh ? What a pity... B l u r r: / glances around / Everyone else can. And here I thought you were intelligent... B l u r r: / disappointed sigh. 8( / Bonecrusher: HEY! You ARE callin' me stupid! I oughta—! Bonecrusher: *saw soundwave out of the corner of his optic. HE'S STILL STARING.* B l u r r: You oughta...? B l u r r: / is waiting. Turns to his side / Oh, don't worry. Maybe he'll see you eventually . Bonecrusher: ... i oughta... i oughta go back t'... boss is probably gonna... y'know... Bonecrusher: ... m'gonna go home. B l u r r: Oh? Pity. B l u r r: We were just starting to get to know you. Bonecrusher: *watches Soundwave uncomfortably a moment.* B l u r r: Well, if you ever want to drop by. Let us know. /smirk/ ItsyBitsySpyers: [[Yes. He should leave too. He has business to attend to.]] He says while not moving at all. B l u r r: /reaches down to scritch Ravage / See you later, mech. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Ravage rumbles and nods.* =Next time.= B l u r r: Oberyn! /monster wolf to his side / Come along. We have business with a few mechs in the brig. Bonecrusher: *... he's gonna just. turn off.* B l u r r: See you later, new mech /wiggle claws / B l u r r: / waves to soundwave / ItsyBitsySpyers: *Waits a second, makes sure Bonecrusher isn't coming back. Huffs, turns to Blurr, and nods.* [[A pleasant evening. Goodnight, Blurr.]] *And off to harass his new playtoy some more, everyone in tow.*

#by constructicons #chat