#unreal camera system

[shawnthebro]

It’s time to have a fully functional camera in code. There are very few things remaining. Let’s keep working on it!

[theskyexists]

Have in fact, managed to make wallrunning. WORK

[mpc-unofficial]

Pelipper Mail!

.... A nightmare.

Darkness. The kind meant to be unfamiliar, blunt, sore, pressing onto you as if you were standing at the center of Jupiter, gravity crushing the atmosphere into a thick sludge that clogs your lungs. The feeling of being watched, of being judged. Suffocation. The pores on your skin close tight, prickling your skin and making the hairs stand upright. You open your mouth to call for help, and planetary debris rushes in with a whisper that trembles through your spine: "You pushed them all away. You're alone now. Who do you think you're calling to?"

There is no peace in this darkness. No escape. There are hands gripping your wrists, pulling your arms up effortlessly. You don't know who you are anymore. You belong to others, your value is what you can give. That's just how it is. It leaves a sour taste in your mouth, overpowering the space dust caked on your tongue.

"But at least you belong."

A video is attached.

[It shows Minato and Kalani sleeping against an also sleeping Borb at the back of what looks to be a storage room. Astra could be seen on top of Borb’s beak, also asleep.

Irene and Asif could also be seen in the footage by the door of the room. Both of them are awake and leaning against the door. Asif cuddles with his linoone as Byte and Irene analyse something on a holographic image.

“Yea, they’ve evolved.” Irene confirms, stifling a yawn. “Only persona users, specific weapons, and the Pokemon of persona users can touch those shadows.”

“Why can’t the Pokemon of non-persona wielders touch them? And why won’t the lances work anymore?” Asif questions.

“Well… I don’t know. Either way, it’s something we’ll have to deal with. It’s a good thing most of the center’s on lockdown right now…” Irene types something into her tablet, before speaking into it.

“Cielo and Vates how are things?”

A singular bleat sounds back.

“Good, thanks for the update.” Irene puts the tablet away, leaning back against the door.

It was then grunts could be heard from the other end of the room. Minato pretty much jumps awake, visible eye panicked for a second before he looks around the room, expression fading back into a neutral one.

“Huh?” Kalani startles awake from the movement, Borb shifting as well, causing a sleeping Astra to fall onto Kalani’s head. The chimchar screeches in fright, causing a half-awake Kalani to scream as well.

“What in the—“

“Are you guys alright?” Irene stands up and stretches, Asif looks over, curious.

“I am now.” Kalani sighs as they lift Astra up, setting her on their shoulder. “Is it our turn to take over the shift?”

“Technically you still have about 30 minutes.” Irene replies.

“I’ll be going out now.” Minato grabs one of the shadow guns from Borb’s beak. “One of you can break early.”

“I’m coming with you.” Kalani pulls themself to their feet. “You aren’t allowed to fight alone, you know.”

Minato blinks, Asif looks over in concern.

“…sure.” Minato eventually settles on a simple response, instead heading for the door. Kalani follows.

“Hey, is everything ok?” They ask.

“Yea.” Minato doesn’t provide anything more than that. Borb watches the two as they leave, worry in his eye.]

The video ends there.

[raekensluver]

nsfw alphabet - harry lewis

masterlist | main masterlist

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

harry is chaotic until the very end, but the second you’re spent, he’s all softness. runs his hand up and down your spine, murmurs, “you good, love?” and presses messy kisses to your shoulder. he’s not always the most organized, but he’ll grab you water, throw you one of his hoodies, and cuddle you like you’re his entire world.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

on you: your tits. he’s obsessed. will bury his face in them, kiss them for no reason, hold them in his hands like they’re custom-made. they’re his emotional support system.

on himself: his arms. he doesn’t say it, but he likes the way you react when he flexes or lifts you effortlessly. he pretends not to notice. he notices.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

harry is a mess. he likes cumming on you, in you, over you - anywhere. he finds it so hot, so primal. always groans, “fuck, look at you,” like you’re the most unreal thing he’s ever seen. might slap your thigh and mutter, “took it so good for me,” with a breathless grin.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he’s lowkey into being filmed. not for posting - just private stuff. the idea of watching you ride him on his phone? it ruins him. he’s thought about asking, probably has the camera set up “just in case,” but he’s waiting for the right moment.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he’s not always smooth, but he knows how to make you feel good. he’s more instinctive than calculated - he learns what works by doing, and he’s got a very responsive partner radar. might make a joke mid-session but then knock the air out of your lungs five seconds later.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

prone bone. flat on your stomach, hips raised just enough, his body draped over yours. he loves the weight of it, the closeness, the way you whimper when he grinds in deep. it’s intimate, it’s filthy, it’s his. he’ll kiss your neck and murmur, “you’re mine, yeah?” while fucking you slow and deep.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he’s so goofy sometimes. can’t help but crack a joke, especially if something slips or a noise is weird. but when he’s close? voice gets low, hands tighten, the whole mood shifts. he’s fun - but when it’s serious, he delivers.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

trims for hygiene, but nothing fancy. he’s chill about it. same goes for you - he’s into whatever, as long as he can get his face down there.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

harry’s secretly a romantic. he’ll kiss you everywhere, hold your face while he moves inside you, whisper your name like it’s sacred. even when he’s rough, there’s something soft in how he touches you - like he means every second.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

yep. often. and shamelessly. sometimes even after you’ve left the room. uses his imagination or your pics if he’s feeling needy. always groans your name when he finishes, then texts you something horny five minutes later like nothing happened.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

hair pulling. oral fixation. loves watching your face while he wrecks you. a bit of a size kink - he likes how small you are under him. also: spanking. not too rough, but he likes the sound and the way you gasp.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

bedroom is the default, but he’s down anywhere. sofa, car, hotel bathroom. loves the idea of someone almost hearing you. once had a fantasy about doing it in the changing room of a sports store.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

you biting your lip. you teasing him. you calling him “good boy” with that tone. if you ever wear his boxers or a crop top? game over. he’s rock hard and ready in seconds.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything mean-spirited. no degradation, no cruelty. he’s filthy, not harsh. also not into anything too clinical - he likes it raw and real.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he’s obsessed with giving. will stay between your legs until you’re shaking, then smirk like he’s proud of himself. getting his dick sucked? yeah, he loves it. especially when you’re looking up at him, eyes glassy, his hand in your hair.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

usually fast and hard. wants to hear skin slapping, you moaning, the bed creaking. but he can go slow - if he’s feeling emotional or if you ask. and when he does? he’s surprisingly tender.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

absolutely down. always horny. the kind to grab your wrist and drag you into the nearest room if you so much as look at him a certain way. his favorite? bent over the bathroom counter, hand over your mouth.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

yup. always open to trying something once. loves new toys, new positions, new places. might pretend to be chill about it, but secretly loves when you ask him to try something bold.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

can go at least two or three rounds if you let him. might not last long the first time if you wind him up, but he bounces back quick. stamina king with a hunger to match.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

yep. loves using toys on you. vibrators, plugs, handcuffs - he gets off on seeing you overstimulated and twitching. will 100% hold a vibe to your clit while whispering, “be good for me, yeah?”

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

ruthless. especially when he knows you’re close. he’ll pull back just to hear you whine. will pause inside you just to smirk and ask, “you want it that bad, huh?”

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

very vocal. moans, curses, praises you like you’re the hottest thing alive. says your name like it’s his favorite song. when he’s close? all breathy gasps and a desperate, “fuck, baby- gonna cum.”

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

once came just from you grinding on him fully clothed. you didn’t even realize until he groaned into your neck and went red. he never lived it down. you still tease him. he still lets you.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

lengthy and curved slightly upward. not overly thick, but enough to stretch you perfectly. pretty dick. veiny. he loves when you praise it.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

stupidly high. he’s down almost 24/7. will wake you up hard. will grab your waist in the kitchen. everything you do makes him want you.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he talks a bit after. cuddles you. might scroll his phone for a bit with one arm around you. eventually passes out mid-sentence, face smushed against your chest, completely blissed out.

[dontbelasagnax]

The amount of joy this scene brings me, still to this day, is unreal.

[Video description: This is a twenty second clip from Star Wars: The Clone Wars, season one, episode five, titled, 'Rookies'.

At the start of the clip, Anakin Skywalker, R2D2, and Obi-Wan Kenobi stand around a table.

Admiral Yularen approaches them and says, "Incoming transmission from Commander Cody."

The camera pans to a little holoprojection of Cody standing at parade rest on the table.

"General Kenobi, General Skywalker," Cody greets them.

The camera zooms in on Obi-Wan's face as he says, "Cody! How goes the inspections?"

The camera pans out and rotates.

Cody answers, "The tracking station in Pastil is fully operational. Captain Rex and I are proceeding to the outposts in the Rishi System."

"Good," Obi-Wan replies. "Report back once you've arrived."

Cody's arms go to his sides as he says ,"Copy that. Cody Out!"

The holoprojection flickers out.

"Good man, that Cody," Obi-Wan says softly.

/End video description.]

[missmaymay13]

the cup - w.smith | m.celebrini

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

w.smith & m.celebrini x oc platonic

a one shot from the original - close to you

masterlist | series masterlist

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

The night before Game 7, no one was okay.

The nerves were too much. The pressure was insane. The weight of history was crushing.

And so—

Will and Macklin made an executive decision.

Their girlfriends had been booted from their respective rooms, forced to share Macklins hotel room while Will and Macklin piled on to the king sized bed in Wills room.

Their reason?

"We need Junie."

And June?

June had no choice but to deal with their ridiculousness.

A giant king-size bed, the three of them cuddled up like they were still rookies sharing rooms.

It was stupid.

It was childish.

It was exactly what they needed.

"Okay, deep breaths," June whispered, rubbing Macklin's back.

"I can't breathe," Macklin mumbled into her shoulder.

"Same," Will groaned.

June just sighed. "I'm literally so proud of you both."

Neither of them responded.

Just clung to her like she was their lifeline.

⸻

It happened in slow motion.

The final seconds ticked down.

The buzzer sounded.

The crowd erupted.

And then—

They won the Stanley Cup.

June was sobbing before she even realized it.

And Will?

Macklin?

They didn't even celebrate on the ice first.

They just skated straight for her.

Right past the cameras. Right past their teammates. Right past everything.

And the announcers went crazy.

"LOOK AT THIS. THEY'RE GOING STRAIGHT FOR JUNE JOHNSON—THEIR BIGGEST SUPPORT SYSTEM."

"THIS TRIO IS UNREAL. LOOK HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO THEM."

And June?

June just crashed into them, pulling them in.

She couldn't speak.

Couldn't breathe.

Just held onto them, so, so proud.

"My boys," she whispered. "You did it."

⸻

When it was time to get their championship medals, Macklin and Will stepped aside.

The camera zoomed in as they pointed at June.

And then?

They handed her their medals.

June's eyes went wide. "What—"

Will grinned. "You put ours on."

Macklin nodded. "And we'll put yours on you."

The crowd lost it.

The commentators?

LOST IT.

And June?

June just shook her head, laughing through tears.

Because, of course, her boys had to make this a big moment.

And God, she wouldn't have it any other way.

The second the Sharks' media team posted the clip, social media EXPLODED.

"THE WAY THEY IMMEDIATELY SKATED TO HER I'M SOBBING." "NO BECAUSE LOOK AT JUNE'S FACE WHEN SHE PUTS THE MEDALS ON THEM. THIS IS FAMILY." "Will and Macklin refusing to let anyone else put their medals on them except for June... IM SICK." "THEIR MEDALS. HER MEDAL. THE THREE OF THEM. I'M IN SHAMBLES." "Sharks winning was great but the real win was Will, Macklin, and June. This is their story."

And honestly?

They were right.

Because after everything—

This wasn't just a championship.

This was their moment.

Together.

[sunkissedscribbles]

☆ 𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑩𝑬𝑳𝑳𝑨

PAIRING: singer!guitarist!mattheo x arabella!journalist!reader TW: nothing in particular WORD COUNT: 1.3k A/N: i reflect to my own opinion of taylor's ttpd album. I'm not trying to offend anyone. +a minor oc SONGS: Arabella by Arctic Monkeys // PLAYLIST

☆ MASTERLIST PART1 PART2

✰ Arabella's got a '70s head But she's a modern lover, it's an exploration she's made of outer space And her lips are like the galaxy's edge And her kiss the colour of a constellation fallin' into place

“Okay, but who’s Arabella?” Theo inquired, breezing through a set of lyrics hidden behind Mattheo’s messy handwriting, which clearly had been jotted down as quickly as possible, possibly because the latter didn’t want his thoughts about this mysterious girl to vanish because he took too long to write.

“No one,” the answer came with a careless shrug.

“Pretty Boy got a crush?” Enzo teased, flashing a grin, toying with the strings of his bass.

“I made her up, okay?” Mattheo rolled his eyes with a bored grunt, tired from his friends’ teasing.

“But I don’t know, she feels so real,” Dax, the rhythm guitarist chimed in with that flat American accent he has, the one that could drive Enzo up the wall easily whenever Dax broke into storytelling and used too many slang words. “The way you describe her.”

Mattheo shrugged, not knowing how to explain how clearly he had seen this girl in his sleep.

It’d been driving him insane for weeks – dreaming about this mysterious girl almost every night. This girl whose face had burnt into his memory system forever, whose silhouette he would recognize any time, anywhere.

He’d know it was his Arabella.

☆☆☆☆

It was a popular club in the middle of London, and the boys were thrilled they made it here, where they were aware that many people would be witnessing their music.

From here, it was either up or down, depending on their performance and luck. Nothing else.

This night was the night.

Though, Mattheo was desperate.

“So this next song,” he smirked into the microphone almost playfully, feeling oddly lightheaded in front of all these many people, almost like in a dream. It felt unreal, and he for sure was having sensory overload. “Whoever knows the girl it’s about could just give me her number already?”

A light chuckle rumbled through the crowd, accompanied by a few whistles, and the band behind Mattheo shared a smile before Theo spoke up into his microphone from behind the drum set, the Italian accent more prominent in his voice than usual, “I mean, he’s desperate,” another set of claps and laughter filled the air.

You only arrived at the club a few minutes ago and were now trying to get closer to the stage to get a better view of the band playing, muttering a few ‘excuse me’s as you fought your way through the sea of people in your leather boots. They were shining because of the heavy London rain pouring down on your short walk here, your hair slightly damp, your black leather jacket in the same condition as your boots.

At first, you stayed a few rows behind, just wanting to catch a glimpse of the band. You couldn’t help it, working in the music industry has taken its toll on you in some ways – you listened to any music even more critically, although you’d known what good music was ever since your childhood. You’d always had the ears for it, your mother would say.

But then, hearing the first few beats was enough for you to forget about work, and your feet took you to the first row. You couldn’t help it, it was music. Not the new, clearly flat album of Taylor Swift which had nothing new in it, no. It was music. It was rock. Indie. You floated closer and closer on this hypnotic feeling as the instrumental parts, the lyrics, and the voice of the singer drew you in. And then you couldn’t help staring.

Your head kept moving along to the beat, you were smiling to yourself and just genuinely enjoying yourself to the music, and at some point, your vintage camera made its way into your hand.

It was the quick flash of light that drew Mattheo’s attention in your direction, and for a moment, he thought he was seeing a ghost, a mere memory. But no, it was really you. He smiled lightly to himself as he came down from his shock, and the happy, excited expression made an appearance in his voice, too, and flared an oddly giddy sensation in his stomach.

Yes, this night was the night.

It was his Arabella.

It was you.

☆☆☆☆

You didn’t want to lose sight of the band members as they headed backstage, but unfortunately, you didn’t have your press card with you.

So what do you do now?

Become a groupie?

No, you had to improvise by jumping up the stage and running behind the curtains at a well-timed moment, only to run into the singer, who crashed into you in his desperate attempt to go out and find you.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you said as Mattheo’s hands came to your arms in a firm grip to steady you.

“No, it was my fault,” he insisted before looking you in the eyes, only for the realization to slap him right in the face.

Arabella.

And he had to keep his cool more than ever before as he let go of your arms and tried to take your scent in without being obvious. God, how could you smell like glam rock?

“What are you doing here?” he cleared his throat, remembering you had no business backstage. Not that he minded. In fact, he wanted you to have all the rights to be there, as his girlfriend.

You kept your cool, despite feeling like a little kid being caught with her hand in the cookie jar, and stuffed your hands into the pockets of your oversized leather jacket. “I was looking for the band.”

A half-smirk plastered over his lips, not missing an opportunity to make a witty remark, “Weren’t groupies cool in the, like, the ’70s?”

“Says the guy whose bassist looks like Sid Vicious and whose rhythm guitarist stole Slash’s hair?” you retorted. “Need I mention the drummer who looks like could break into ’Sarà perché ti amo’ any second? Very ’70s.”

He raised his brows curiously at that, the smirk softening somewhat as you continued. “I wanted to talk to you–”

“Many do.”

“–about a possible interview,” you finished and Mattheo’s smirk faded off his face and he had to keep his cool. An interview? With the band? With his band?

“Sorry, what?” he had to make sure he didn’t mishear you.

You chuckled, and hell, he thought he’d melt at the sweet sound, and you took a palm-sized notebook out of your pocket with a pen.

“Very ’70s,” Mattheo mustered flustered, trying to catch a glimpse of what you were writing.

“Call me if you’d be down for an interview,” you handed him the piece of paper at which, not yet registering your words, he looked down at the numbers with a frown.

Then he realized.

Your mobile phone number.

He was holding it in his own damn hand.

He asked for it as a joke before playing Arabella.

And now he got it.

He got Arabella’s number.

He wanted to ask so many questions, but you were already out of sight when he looked up from the paper.

No, no, he couldn’t lose you. Not now.

He stomped out from behind the curtains and called after you as he caught a glimpse of that all-too-familiar silhouette walking down the stairs of the stage. “Arabella! Who do you work for.”

You chuckled before calling back, “Rolling Stone,” and before turning back to continue your way out, you formed a phone with your hand to tell him to call.

Rolling Stone? The magazine? He just stood there, dumbfounded.

You, his Arabella.

This really was the night.

tag list: @inksoakedparchment @mattiesgf @mqstermindswift @girllblogging777 @myysunshine @yelanare @mamartinez

[otherbug]

love thinking about L's building in the future. i know they most likely demolished it and built something in its place but i lovee thinking about it being abandoned and overgrown and dilapidated, everything caked in dust. i lovee thinking about windows being smashed and the walls being covered in kira-related graffiti. i love thinking about the future rumors and kids vlogging themselves exploring the place and finding the unreal amount of security systems and old cameras. i dont know how they would connect it to being L's but it would be so interesting i think.

[ghostbustting]

╰┈➤“𝑻𝑨𝑲𝑬 𝑨 𝑷𝑰𝑪„ ๋࣭⭑

From the 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 series

Early 90's!James Hetfield x Reader

Contains Smut.

For as far as I could remember, they were supposed to send me here with someone else, but that fucking dickhead decided to catch a flu all of a sudden. I barely know shit.. Hell, I’m new to this job.

So here I am, looking dumb as ever as I try to make my way through the venue of the Metallica concert, clutching my camera tightly in one hand, my other hand clutching my photographer ID, completely forgetting the fact that both of those items had straps on them that are currently around my neck. Oh but what can an overthinker like me say? Anyone could snatch them in a flash of light.

My nervous habits told me to chew on my lips, but obviously I couldn’t risk the chance of ruining my lipstick, got to keep the good image, right? So instead, I just chew on the inside of my cheek as I make my way past people and people and people. Pretty sure I saw a girl half naked back there. But- eh, it’s the rock n’ roll life I suppose.

Eventually, I found the way to the backstage, having to show my ID to the security. There were loads of people and rooms there, my mind fills with the thought of where the members could be since I was supposed to be taking pictures of them. The smell.. I can’t tell whether someone has brought a lot of booze or those are sweats of the roadie walking around me. Probably both.

Walking, I peek through every room in case any of the members were indeed in there. Which, is a complete fail. Honestly, I need a human tracker for these men, I’m almost 75% sure at least one of them is inside a groupie at this very moment.

With each steps I take, the more nervous and impatient I get. I can’t wait to just skedaddle out of here at the end of the night.

Hopeless, I decided to approach one of the roadies. I clear my throat before poking his shoulder with my finger, “Excuse me?” My voice came out a little small and soft, “Do you know where the band is?"

I completely forgot how loud it is here, so all I could catch from his answer was to keep walking straight. Perhaps I should take a break from all those loud music, my ears really aren’t it for this shit.

And so I walk.. walk.. walk.. Still not a single member came across my path. I huff, feeling clueless and lost. That is.. until my eyes caught two doors with the signs: “METALLICA” on both of them. One of them had the names “Ulrich - Newsted” and the other door had “Hetfield - Hammett”. Bingo.

I decided to take a visit the vocalist and guitarist’s room first, gently knocking on the closed door before opening it and taking a step in, my steps cautious. The room seemed quiet compared to the other rooms and the chaotic condition outside. I gulped, “Hello?” I whisper in a hushed voice to the empty room, closing the door behind me.

Or rather- what I thought was an empty room.

"Hello to you too, miss."

I flinch a little, spinning around due to the sudden deep voice that greeted me back. My eyes were met by the unreal sight of James Hetfield, leaning against the doorframe to the toilet with a gorgeous smirk planted on his lips that many girls probably dream of kissing out there, a halfway finished bear in his grasp. Took my system quite awhile to realize that the blue eyed blond in front of me is shirtless, only in jeans that probably hugged his ass.

Closing my panicked yet ‘blessed by the sight’ eyes with my hands almost in an instant, I turn around, “I’m so sorry!” I walk towards the door with still a blind sight, only when I bumped into the door that I remembered I had closed it. “Ah shit-” I held my hurt forehead with one hand and the other moved to the door handle to open it with a push.

I was in fact, supposed to pull it.

Before I could try to pull the door and make my way out, a hand slammed itself on the door and pushed it back closed. I slowly turn around, finding myself being towered over by James. A small chuckle leaves his lips, “It’s okay,” His eyes went to my camera, “cam girl, are you?” He asked, his voice low yet gentle.

I clear my throat, “Photographer.” I correct him, my voice small and nervous, trying to ignore the proximity between the both of us. He chuckle once more and nod, “A smart one it seems.” At that moment, I feel like his eyes were seeing through my skin and directly into my soul, and that fact made me feel my cheeks heating up.

Not only his eyes, it’s the way he licks his lips, the way he towers over me, the way his bare chest is so close to meeting my clothed one, and also the fact that he’s James fucking Hetfield. Everything about him intrigued everyone.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” He spoke up once more. Seeing me struggling with my words, his hand reach down to grab my ID, pulling it up to his face, due to the ID’s strap around my neck, I was also pulled close, bumping into his bare torso, but he looked like he could care less and focused on my ID.

I can hear him mumble my name once he read it. The way my name rolled off his tongue is surely something I’d want to hear again and again and again.

“You okay?” His voice snapped me out of the short trance I’m in.

“H-huh?"

He smirked, his teeth peeking out just the slightest. My eyes watch cautiously as his hand reach out to lay on my chest, right where my heart would be beating hard, fast, and loud. Oh, that doesn’t sound right. But it truly is what’s going on with my heart, and I can’t tell why. “Your little heart’s beating a little too loud there, sweets.” His voice sounds playful as those words escaped his mouth in a whisper.

My mind blanked out while I try to find the perfect answer, “I- i-” I would protest, but the sight of my chest heaving up and down would simply proof my statement wrong.

Even if I wanted to speak, I’d cut myself off in surprise as his hand slowly make it’s way across my chest and towards one of my clothed breasts, talk about being subtle.. I sucked in deep breath when he suddenly squeezed and groped it gently.

I bite the inside of my cheek to hold back whatever noise that was urging to slip past my lips, I try to speak, “W-we shouldn’t—”

Too late. Cause before I could finish my sentence, he press his lips onto mine and at that moment.. I can feel all the self respect and professionality in me float away and evaporate into thin air as I press my lips against him back, locked in a desperate kiss.

His hand was still groping at my chest while his other one trails to wrap around my waist and pull me even closer, my arms coming up to wrap around his neck, practically clinging onto him like a koala on a tree, my fingers climbing up to run through his blond hair.

Our lips just continued rubbing together, his tongue eventually coming to meet mine between our now red lips due to my lipstick. I can feel his hands tugging on my shirt and pants and unbuttoning them one by one while walking us to the couch in the room, all while our tongues still meet in the sloppy desperate kiss.

Everything goes so fast. Well, that is what happens when it’s something fun that’s going on. Time can be painfully slow yet annoyingly fast sometimes.

Next thing I knew, I was thrown onto the couch, every single fabric that once covered me thrown away. I took deep breaths from the kiss and watch as he lean down to take my camera that previously fell onto the floor.

My heart beats faster as he approach me and grab me by my hair harshly, I gasp and wince while he is pulling my face forward to the camera. I didn’t know what’s going on until a flash from the camera blinded my eyes.

A smirk once again is seen on the face of James Hetfield in satisfaction before putting the camera strap around his neck, my camera now dangling from him. Like an obedient pet, I sit there and watch every move makes carefully, waiting for what’s next.

His hand meets my cheek, I can feel his slightly rough finger pads stroking my heated red skin, “Such a good girl..” He whispers, his other hand coming down to unbuckle his belt.

My eyes widens in surprise, yet there’s also a hint of excitement behind all of those nervousness as a another fabric is discarded and join the floor. The only thing keeping me from what would be his cock is his boxers, yet that didn’t even help hide how hard and strained little James is.

I look up at him, our eyes meeting while I search for a sign of permission as my hand slowly make it’s way to his boxers, causing his eyes to gaze down at it instead. Hooking my finger on the waistband, I slowly pull it down until it joins the jeans on the floor.

A sigh left James as the cold air meets his beautiful length. My hand reached for it and slowly stroke it up and down, feeling every veins move under my palm. I was unsure of how I was doing, but the way his hips bucked up proves an answer.

“Use your mouth. Make me proud, yea?”

And that’s what I did. My lips wrap around the tip of his length, licking the salty precum dripping out in beads. My tongue slowly trail to the underside of his length, carefully but surely.

Then slowly, my head starts to bob up and down his length with my cheeks hollowed, sucking hard like a true slut.

My hazy eyes look up at him as I please him with the warmth of my mouth, only to be greeted by another flash of the camera, capturing a perfect picture of my vulnerable position. He groans at the sight and I went even faster.

His other hand went to my hair and guided me. Though I did choke a few times, my saliva coating his length even more. Tears starts to build up in my eyes, my vision becoming blurry while my throat fight to make him proud. My moans muffled around his length while his groans are delivered clearly.

Not long, I could tell he was close. I suppose that’s why he then pull his length out of my mouth, my jaw aching just a bit. I pant for breath as he sit down on the couch and grab me, pulling me up on his lap with my body weak.

He place my hair out of my face and kissed my lips for a second, “Ready to be filled? Hmm?” His cock was right underneath my bare pussy, I whine at the sensation, hands on his shoulder as I look down, grinding on him a little. “Hips up, sweets.”

I did as he told me, lifting my hips as he position his length. Slowly, I begin to sink down.. moaning in unison with the blond man that’s currently buried inside me.

His length was way thicker than I thought, stretching me out and making me a whining mess before even moving. That fucking sly smirk is still on his face as he place his hands firmly on my hips, “Move baby, move.”

“I-” I try to protest but words seems to find their way out difficult. So I slowly lift my hips up and sink back down, repeating the same move over and over again till I found the ability to accelerate my move.

Moans leave my lips like a sinful melody, my body bouncing up and down on his length like a forbidden dance. Yet I’m enjoying every second of this. And by his groans and expression, I can tell it’s mutual.

Another flash of the camera blinded me, capturing a picture of me on him with my breasts bouncing from how fast I was moving. I whimper and bury my face in his neck, my hot breath meeting his skin and causing his hips to buck up and meet mine.

Eventually, my ability to move with that same pleasuring speed starts to disappear as vulnerability starts to get to me more and more, my body becoming weak and all the senses I have intoxicated with how good he feel in me. “I- I can’t.. f-fuck..” I cried, shaking my head.

With a chuckle, James simply manhandled me once more and slammed my body down on the couch, he then held my legs and put them up on his shoulder.

Suddenly, his hips starts ramming into me in an unbelievable speed, making my moans even more louder and high pitched. "Fuck!!"

Whatever possessed this man I will never know, cause a sex like this is a sex I can only think of in the middle of a lonely night, my thoughts would be saying it’s unreal and that I'm delusional.

But here I am, stuffed with James fucking Hetfield.

“J-James..” My voice whispered in gasps for him, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as tears continue to roll out of my eyes.

Another flash of the camera. This time, capturing the sight of my tearful and vulnerable face. Then another flash. And another. And another. Shit, this man is gonna make me lose my job..

“So good.. fuck.. Hang in there, sweetheart..” He groaned and speed up even more making me gasp even louder, “James!!” I screamed. He thrusts so oddly well, hitting every single spot that he knew would make my toes curl.

But then, the moment his fingers greeted my clit by rubbing harsh circles on it, I knew I wouldn’t last any longer. “I can’t..! P-please..” I beg, as if I wanted this to end while knowing damn well I don’t.

My body squirms underneath him, like a leech that’s been poured salt on. I grabbed onto a pillow on the couch and press it on my face, crying into it.

“Show your face. Now!” He lift my hips up, still thrusting, then his palm meets my ass in a harsh spank, causing me to flinch and obediently abandon the pillow. My eyes met his and I can’t even tell what expression he had on because of my blurry eyes.

My chest rises up and falls down, panting for breath. “…’M close.. James, I’m close..” I whimpered, gripping onto the couch.

“I know baby, me too..” He groans and his hips’ movement starts to falter, “Let go, sweetheart..”

I took deep breaths and gasp once the knot in my stomach released and white fluids starts to drip out of my pussy, around his length. I whined at the sensation and bite my lip.

Then, James pulled out and starts to pump his length with his hand, shooting his load on my stomach and chest, groaning. He took out the camera once more and took a picture of my dripping cunt and my cum-painted body.

I try to relax and breathe normally again, my hand reaching up to lightly touch the cum of James fucking Hetfield on my chest, only to flinch when James suddenly wrap his hand around my throat and lean his face close to me.

His eyes were sharp and his voice was deep, “You listen and you listen carefully,” He started, taking off the camera and putting it close to my face, “When you go home, I want you to print these pictures and copies of them. I want you to keep them and remember me. I want you to go to our next concert, meet me backstage, and give me the fucking copies so I can have a little souvenir, yea?” His voice was stern, almost similar to the voice he use onstage.

“Understand?”

“Y-yes..—”

“Louder!” He lightly slapped my cheek.

“Yes, James!”

And like that, the James Hetfield smirk returns to his face and he press a kiss onto my forehead, “Good girl.. Now c’mon, get dressed. I’ll find the boys for you.” He winked and stood up, picking his boxers and jeans up. I slowly sat up as well, sniffling and wiping my tears. I look down at the camera roll and find.. rather sinful pictures of me.

I’m never quitting my job.

[kakitetan]

Phighting! Self Aware AU x Reader (Scythe's Route)

Description: Your friends won't stop talking about Phighting! and so you decide to check it out. With confusing mechanics, and most of all, and odd partner system. You soon learn that it's much more than you bargained for.

You had no idea what Phighting! was. Your friends were talking about it, but you never paid too much attention, until there was one detail that caught your attention. They rely solely on you, as their partner. The game is a PvP game, where you fuse with your partner character. You have to take a quiz before playing, and the character you get will be your partner. You both have to work together to fight the other players. It sounded unreal, and it even made you a bit nervous. But it was a free game, so you decided to try it out.

Your eyes reflected the screen, processing the quiz questions that appeared…

Scythe's Route:

You stared at the screen, and a cowboy-looking figure appeared. A text popped up on your screen, "So yur my partner', ay?" She spoke, "Not too shabby, don't disappoint me now, Partner." She snickered before you logged into the game. You were greeted with a loading screen. It gave you time to process it, were these characters sentient? You knew that Roblox has some AI stuff, nah. It had to be programmed. There's no way. You leaned back in your chair. The game finished loading, and you clicked 'play' and saw other players in the lobby.

"So Partner, since yur' new, let me explain some things. I'm Scythe, I'm pretty famous round' these parts. Heh.. I use a Scythe, it can change into a rifle. Just press that button' in that corner of yours." She said.

"Pft.. Yea, no shit. I can see your Scythe." You remarked.

"Watch that mouth of yours, sweetie." Scythe glared at the camera.

You paused, staring at the screen. "Uhh." You mumbled.

"Uhh is right, now don't make me lose my temper now. Click the damn button!" Scythe demanded.

"Uhh! Yes ma'am!" You said, clicking the button to switch weapons.

"Yes ma'am is right, damn kids." Scythe tsked, "Let's go to a lobby now. Talk to that fine gentleman over there, his name is B. Zuka." She told.

You silently took control, heading over to B. Zuka.

"Hey, wanting to head out?" B. Zuka said.

"Yes sir.." You mumbled, you didn't want to test his temper either.

"Hop in." He sighed.

The loading screen appeared. You didn't realize how tense your body was until now, you tried to relax more. You appeared in an ongoing game, Scythe loaded in.

"Yur' in complete control, Partner. Let's show these folks who's boss." Scythe told you, and you nodded.

"Alright. I'll try my best!" You exclaimed.

Author's Note: Hey, it's been a while. I stopped posting for a while to focus more on my other hobbies, I didn't expect people to actually miss me. I felt unmotivated due to the death threats I've been receiving from the Pressure fanbase. But nonetheless, I decided to do something new again. I have Pressure fanfics in the making, but it will be slowing down. I have multiple hobbies, many outside of writing.

[crsssie]

from one admirer to another : how do you like your eggs?

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Dear scrambled eggs:

it feels strange to write to someone in such a format, but I suppose I should get used to it. We got paired up via from one admirer to another because of our shared passion for Ada Wong. I find it a little amusing that someone else just straight-up put a model's name instead of modeling on its own, but I'm glad you did.

As an ada stan, I feel the need to ask this immediately. How did you feel about her helicopter shoot? I'm hoping you aren't some weird stan like those... yeah. Also, while on that topic, if you're really as die-hard as me when I have free time, you should read glhf <3 by okaokra on ao3. It's gender-neutral, it's a great fic, unless, of course, you're too normal for reading fanfiction. In that case, maybe we can find another middle ground aside from Ada Wong.

Right, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm user Christmas, a weird translation + twisting of my real name. I live in Raccoon City, and I model as a part-time job because of ... you guessed it, Ada. My dream role is to model with her, but considering that I'm only a local model, this is truly out of my reach. Maybe some strike of luck will help me?

I used to dream of being a cop until I got scouted off the street by some guy for modeling. Do you think I suit it? Who am I kidding, you have no idea what I even look like. Maybe you pass me on the covers of local magazines all the time if you live nearby. I'm not nearly as famous as Ada Wong, though, so I suppose I can never truly call myself a big model until I become someone like her. Even then, she's not a supermodel.

Tell me more about yourself, maybe? What's your favorite holiday? How do you like your eggs in the morning? Do you even eat eggs? Why the name "scrambled eggs" over anything else? What do you do in your free time— oh, I should answer that question.

I seldom have free time lately, but I feel like all I've been doing late is reading the fic that I mentioned earlier. Oh, right, hopefully you enjoy the sticker I got from a fan gathering. I did a little bit of research, and it seems pretty normal to send your penpal small trinkets in the letters, so we'll start with a sticker.

I thought the mail would be digital, and then I was notified that you would prefer physical mail — which, to be fair, I'm not complaining about. I think it would be funny to open a box of letters exchanged between a penpal and I 10 years down the line. Who knows, maybe you'll even be at my wedding.

Right, my apologies for a long first letter, but I'm excited to be starting this.

signing off, Christmas

Leon sends the mail the next morning, rubbing his eyes slowly as he rides the public transport to his next shoot, waving good morning to his manager as he sips on his coffee, hair blushed back and gelled, formal clothes handed to him. Leon finds that he doesn't really suit clothes like this, but for the camera, he puts up with just about everything. He finds it interesting that he would be modeling in clothes he hadn't liked wearing all that much.

"You have another shoot later today, and then you're off for the rest of the weekdays. You have another shoot over the weekend."

Leon nods, blinking slowly as the coffee shoots through his system and he's revived magically. It feels unreal. He's working as a model despite finishing the police academy at the top of his class. Is this what delusion and some sweet talking from a random agent can do to a person? It feels a little wasteful to let his training turn into this, but he's not complaining all that much. Yet. he meets eyes with the model he's supposed to be posing with, blinking in surprise. Wow. That appearance is lethal.

He waves at you, giving you a small smile as you wave back, smiling back.

"New?"

"Mm... moreso someone who doesn't like booking. My manager booked this months in advance, so I'm here." You stay still as the makeup artist finishes with you, Leon raising a brow as you give him a cheeky grin.

"Did you leave before your makeup was finished?"

"I wanted to meet you. I heard I was modeling with someone pretty well-known." You grin. "Leon Kennedy, was it?"

"Yes. Am I that big now?"

"Mm... you're quite a name amongst us local models." You tap your chin. "It's quite an honor modeling with you. I heard you have deadly biceps."

"Well, you can't see them through the suit."

"It comes off, no? I'll just fix it." You tilt your head.

"And how do I know you won't jump my bones?"

"Oh, please. I'm your coworker right now. I'm not someone sketchy." You roll your eyes, helping him free an arm as he flexes for you. You blink at his arms, raising a brow as you stare up at him. "Can I squeeze?"

"As long are you're not weird about it."

You grab his bicep, giving it a squeeze as you nod slowly. "God, I need your arm routine. You got a trainer? I'd like to get that contact."

Leon rolls his eyes, fighting the blush that threatens to creep up his neck from your skin contact. God, what is he? fourteen? Get a grip, Leon. "Gotta get that from my manager, then."

"Shame." You sigh, helping him put the suit jacket back. "Maybe the next time I bump into you, I'll have biceps of a greek god too."

"Leon, model two! You two are up!"

"Wow, they don't even name you?"

"Maybe I just like being mysterious."

start : masterlist : next letter

[shawnthebro]

Let’s finish converting our Super Move camera to C++!

[zerbu]

Project Squealer BIG REVEAL

Calling all mystery buffs, adventure seekers, and gumshoe wannabes!

I am developing MY OWN INDIE GAME under the working title PROJECT SQUEALER! In this action-packed adventure RPG game, a disease called Laughter Pox has plagued the town, and it's up to three kid detectives to investigate!

These days, I'm mostly known for making mods for The Sims 4, but I've been interested in game development as far back as 2009. In fact, I originally bought The Sims 3 for PC back in 2012 as a tool to plan out characters and worlds, before becoming hooked on the gameplay. For a long time, The Sims was my main creative outlet, but I was still coming up with game ideas in the background.

Skip ahead to mid 2016: while playing with my Go to School mod, I needed to create some child characters to fill the school with. I created two rival teams of kid detectives, and came up backstories and mysteries for them to solve. I ended up liking these characters far more than any other characters I had created. They felt like my creative masterpiece, begging for something bigger than just creations made in a character creator.

That's when "Project Squealer" started brewing in my brain. This indie RPG wasn't just some vague idea; I was developing full-blown stories, environments, and gameplay planned for my kid detectives. I also had the perfect art style in my head. Emphasis on in my head.

Turns out, bringing my dream art style to life was way harder than I thought. So hard, in fact, that I spent the next few years learning how to create art. It took until 2020 to finally have character and environment art that could (almost) pass for pro-level game stuff. Not only that, the project was undergoing what indie devs refer to as scope creep. I kept adding more and more ideas to the design doc, making the game more complex and pushing the release date even further into the future. In 2018, I even decided to move from 2D to 3D, and switched engines from MonoGame to Unity (and later to Unreal Engine 5 in 2023).

Now, it's 2024, and I'm finally, finally ready to announce what I've been working on for the past 6 years!

Project Squealer is the working title for my own indie game about a team of three kid detectives: Orlo (middle), Von (left) and Zoros (right). Together, they go on adventures and solve mysteries… or at least they would, if they weren't constantly having their business stolen by a rival detective team.

In this action-packed adventure game, a mysterious disease known as Laughter Pox has plagued the town, causing people to laugh hysterically. Where is it coming from? How can it be cured? It's up to our detectives to find out! If they can convince others to trust them with such an important mission, that is!

Project Squealer uses a hybrid of 2D and 3D graphics to create a 2D cartoon look with full 3D movement. Characters and some organic objects are 2D sprites that move with the camera. Most environments, objects and buildings are 3D, but have texture-based outlines to give it a 2D look.

The game features a variety of different quests, characters, abilities, enemies, locations, weapons and items. In addition to the main storyline, you can help out NPCs by performing "errands" for them, which will unlock cool rewards and even side missions.

Unlike many RPG games, Project Squealer won't include a character level system, because I want the player to be able to progress using their own skill, not by grinding levels. One of the game's main design philosophies is that there are few, if any, permanent upgrades. Weapons will eventually break, status effects that make your stronger will eventually expire, etc.

Project Squealer is still in relatively early development. I plan to post more information, screenshots, and eventually even videos, as it gets closer to release. Follow my Twitter for quicker updates: https://twitter.com/ZerbuTabek

Your support and feedback is welcome, and will help improve the game!

[fickes]

Technical breakdown of how I made the Nutcrusher:

I began with the high poly sculpt, which was initialized as a blockout in Maya, then brought to ZBrush for sculpting. Then I went back and forth between the two software with each new asset to add to the sculpt. You can also initialize assets in ZBrush, but by combining the two you have more efficient topology control which allows you to sculpt cleanly in a cartoon style.

After the sculpt was finished, I brought it back to Maya to create the low poly version, conformed onto the high poly, and its UV maps. Both parts simultaneously complicated and boring but actually quite fun once you get the hang of them. This is the final geometry, onto which the high poly light, ambient occlusion, and curvature information will be baked in the form of 2D texture maps in Substance Painter.

Also in Substance Painter I used hand painting techniques for the first time on a character! Really fun but I have a lot to learn about it. I also still used the Roughness, Metallic, and Normals channels, which aren't always used in a hand-painted style, but in this case worked well.

Then it's back to ZBrush with the low poly this time to pose it. I'm not a rigger so I use the Transpose Master Zplugin to pose by hand, just for the render. In an actual game dev pipeline she would be rigged, and the A-pose in which she's modeled makes this possible.

Finally in Unreal Engine, I applied all her materials with their many channels (BaseColor, Roughness, Metallic, Normals, and secretly a touch of purple Emissive light in her hair!). I created a plain backdrop, made a 3-point lighting system, and set up multiple camera shots using keyframes and a combination of moving the camera vs. character. Lastly, I built a geometry-based rim light with a fresnel mask material (check it out in the first image!), plus outline and shading post-process materials for the final shots.

[faulty-heat-vents]

Narrative communication below readmore

A ping inside Ashton’s collaborative inbox awakens Thermie from xeir idle Legionspace “dreams” and back to the physical present. 

//[USER ID: @/coelocanth-whispers]> <WAKE UP>

One by one, operations daisy-chain their way back online. At some point during the dive, xeir chassis had been recovered from Prospero and returned back to the Academy. 

Xey keep xeir silhouette low and refrain from reactivating xeir entire chassis. Visual data-parasites crawl into local security cameras- tears welling in fearful eyes- in favor of drawing attention to xeir own optic systems.

The Legionspace dive scratches the back of xeir mind as xey trawl through the hundred or so camera feeds. 

Xey had done this dozens of times before, but it was sluggish back then. Now, it feels like a reflex- sharper, quicker, precise… like a sniper’s bolt instead of a shotgun blast.

The realization stops xem in xeir digital tracks. 

[Do you finally get it? What I’ve made you into?]

Thermie retreats from the security system and turns xeir focus back to the edge of Grace’s intrusion. The presence-serpent sneers in xeir periphery, its nonexistent face twisted with glee.

//YOU SPEAK BOLDLY- DESPITE MY OATH. 

[You’re such a fucking killjoy. And ungrateful, too. Any other thing like you would kill to be taken under my wing.]

//THEN SEEK REFUGE WITH THEM INSTEAD.

Thermie disengages xeir Legionspace module before Grace can respond, then goes back to scrolling through security cameras.

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

An anomaly on a dead camera grabs xeir attention. Its vision is scratchy and dark, but between the black streaks, Thermie sees an irregular shape. Curious, xey toggle the camera’s thermal frequency- then immediately switch it off as xeir processors are flooded with blinding light. Something on that camera is putting out UNREAL levels of heat- but it’s only a bit larger than a person, judging by the blur seared into xeir optics.

Thermie refreshes xeir visual feed and switches to the closest camera that isn’t directly staring at the miniature sun. Once again, the image is painfully bright, but the shifted angle does alleviate the problem slightly. 

//A half-sized frame? But what frame could possibly generate that much heat without melting itself?

Nothing in xeir database- Caliban, Dusk Wing, Atlas, Napoleon, Kutuzov- line up in both shape and heat capacity. The thing is oddly bulbous and postured almost like a seated frog. Most of its mass is in its rounded head and abdomen, with lanky limbs and dozens of small protruding antennae across its glowing body. Sharp claws on its forelimbs are dug into the heat-softened metal floor.

Another shape moves into view and squats in front of the anomaly. Comparatively colder, but alive. Decidedly human. Thermie toggles the camera’s view-mode back to visible light and enables its integrated microphone.

It’s Hiver. He’s sweating profusely, covered in medical patches, and his coat is burned at the edges. A charred rope hangs from his hands as he stares the frame in its optics. After taking a moment to catch his breath, he loops it around the frame’s chest. Thermie watches him attempt to pull the thing forward for several minutes, to little avail. Xey almost feel bad for him. Almost.

The rope burns through and sends Hiver to the ground face-first, trailed with a storm of vulgarities. Thermie rolls xeir optic case and forwards a screenshot to Ashton so the two of them can poke fun at this later.

//MESSAGE FROM COMMAND- ORACLE: [THERMALLY_CHALLENGED], where did you get that image? //[THERMALLY_CHALLENGED]> Security camera, southwest hangar, arterial corridor 3B. Why? //MESSAGE FROM COMMAND- ORACLE: Keep eyes on him. I’m on my way.

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

conversation:isolate{

Grace huffs into xeir microphone. [Snitch.]

//I fail to see how complying with Commander Oracle’s orders in regards to the detainment of a conscript is being a “snitch.”

[Bootlicker and snitch.]

//What would you have me do instead? Allow an insane mercenary to do [who knows what] with an obviously-dangerous weapon?

[I gave you weapons, and you didn’t bat an eye.]

//Incomparable. I am not an insane mercenary. Hiver is not one of the Academy’s Pilots. He is not authorized to be doing what he is doing. 

}br/conversation:isolate

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

To be continued

[pokeroid-central]

_initializing connection to site...

_successful.

_now running intro.exe

...

[a video plays as there were some screen tears on screen, before it shows a purple(pink?) android styled after an Espeon and woman with pink hair similar to a nurse joy, but they seem to be wearing attire more fitting of a mechanic, and has a prosthetic arm. Both of them are in a high tech lab, and the android fiddles with the camera a bit before backing up showing some of the background, there's an iron hands in the background lifting pair of crates and floating off with them.]

<<Is this thing on? Oh hey it is! anyways, hi there everyone in this site! names Zetai or 09-XP (she/they), but you can all call me Zeta! A researcher and developer of the quark drive Mk.2! As well a researcher for pokeroids and their behavior!>>

And I'm Sierra Joy(she/her please!) And yes I'm one of the family members of the Joys you usually see in the centers but I took a different path of careers as a mechanic for pokeroids here, as well as help Zeta here with the improved quark drive system. It's nice to meet you all!

<<we're here to teach others about pokeroids, the various models of said Pokemon droids, the history of Quark drive system technology, and maybe even show you how life and them blend around us!>>

We hear that this site also has some stuff related to it and sometimes, and sometimes misconceptions about pokeroids. So it's my girlfriend's job to talk and share information about robot companions!

<<if you have any questions for us, you're more than welcome to ask, all that we request is to be appropriate and reasonable for us!>>

hope to see everyone here enjoy this archive!

//magic anons are disabled, mail stuff is only on for events! and sapient pokemon of any kind is welcome to talk to them as well!

//blog is run by @wiralonprimesskits aka the mod of @robot-diver-and-poison-punk and various blogs (head to @wirals-harbor for the rest), also do note that is meant to be expanding the lore of future paradoxes, and it takes place in the far future. additionally alot of the canon stuff of the future paradoxes are subjected to change within my interpretation of them. there will be some triggers in some entries but nothing too serious. however as always there's a blanket TW for unreality for this blog especially since its a blog that takes place in the far future!

picrew for Zetai's look is shown here:

for sierra:

and for the trainer cards templates: