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cmncisspnandmore · 4 days

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One Night Stand: Part 8

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley X Reader

Warnings: Preterm babies? mentions of medical things.

Word Count: 2k

New to the series? Catch up here: 7

Getting into the wheelchair was the most humbling thing you had ever done in your life. You had really taken for granted how easy walking around when you were pregnant was. Now as the nurse and Simon held onto your arms and helped you into the wheelchair as you gasped in pain, your entire body shook with the effort. As they carefully lowered you into the wheelchair, you caught a glance of Simon's face. His face was slightly pale, his eyes worried as he watched you.

He looked like he was the one who could pass out at any moment, not you. “There we go, you alright?” the bubbly red headed nurse asks. She straightens up after she puts the foot rests down, her badge clip clinking together. Kelsey, her name was Kelsey.

“Yeah, i didn't expect it to feel like that…” You mumble, and she gives you a soft smile.

“Kinda like your organs are just gonna fall right out of you?” She smiles, and you can't help but laugh.

“Yeah, pretty much. It wasn't painful, just really uncomfortable… But I'm okay.”

“You sure?” Simon's voice is rough, his brow still pinched as he listens to the conversation between you and Kelsey.

“I’m fine Si, I promise.”

He doesn't reply, he just gives you another once over before stepping out of the way so Kelsey can wheel you out of the room. The hallways were long and white, a few vitals carts hanging around. Nurses passed every few moments as they went about their days. A few pressed themselves against the wall as Simon walked by. His large form takes up most of the hallway. He was the poster of intimidating, all muscle and an impassive face to match.

As we reach the end of the hall our nurse Kelsey waves her badge in front of a sensor that controls the large windowless doors in front of us. As the door slowly open the soft hum of white noise and beeping monitors fill your ears.

“This is the NICU, its where we keep my personal favorite patients,” kelsey smiles as she pushes me through the doors. There's a typical nurses station in front of us, but instead of the regular hospital rooms that you see in the rest of the building. There are two long walls with large glass windows that allow you to look into two rooms with 3 rows of incubators. Each room housed 9 of them, not all of them were full. Some were just waiting to be occupied. A few sets of parents stand around them, wearing pink overgowns, as they reach their hands into the incubators to touch their babies.

Kelsey disappears for a moment and comes back wearing her own overgown and hands one to simon. “You have to wear these, its to prevent germs from your clothes getting on the babies. It just helps us keep them safe. We also need you to use hand sanitizer before you enter and when you're done. It's important we do everything to keep them safe.” she explains as she helps you put yours on. You look over your shoulder as Simon attempts to put on the overgown, its stretched tightly over his arms and chest. His larger than average form filling up most of the pink overgown. A small snicker leaves your lips as you take him in with the pink gown. He’s usually dressed in all black or dark colors. To see him wearing something so bright was actually funny to you.

You never thought you’d see the day Simon Riley wore pink, but here he was, stuffed into a too small overgown, small frown on his lips. You can’t help the small smile that plays on your lips despite the nerves you were feeling growing inside you. What if you couldnt handle seeing your baby like that? Would they look okay? Would they even look like a baby?

You had no idea what to expect, your stomach was turning as Kelsey gave you some hand sanitizer. After you and Simon rubbed it in, she wheeled you into the room, it was warmer in here than in the hallway. The constant hum of the machinery louder, as she pushed you towards the last incubator on the left. It was a large plastic box, with 4 little circle windows, a soft yellow glow emitting from a light on top. As you get closer you can see some of the stuff inside A soft pink blanket, and the smallest baby you have ever seen. They wore a hat so small you weren't sure if it was even possible for them to call it a baby's hat. It seemed more fit for a doll.

Your daughter laid in the center of the incubator, an array of tubes and wires connected to her too small body. Her eyes were covered with gauze, and she had a mask over her nose, and a thin white tube coming from her mouth. She was mostly still, the only occasional movement was her arms or legs moving in a sort of jerking movement. Her diapers were too big for her, even in the Nano- Preemie size they had on her.

“Shes… shes so small..” you whisper, your hand coming to rest against the warm plastic of the incubator.

“She is, but she's been doing really well. She’s been stable since we put her on the oxygen and she hasn't shown any signs of distress since. I think she's got a real chance.” Kelsey smiles as she looks between you and Simon.

“If you want you can reach in through the little windows, just try not jostle any of the wires,” she smiles, as she walks over to another family standing around an incubator.

Simon stands behind the wheelchair, his hands coming to rest on your shoulder. He's quiet for a few moments, the warmth of his large hands seeping into the fabric of the hospital gown. You shove down the emotions that are bubbling up inside of you, taking a deep breath you lean forward in the wheelchair. A dull ache pulling at your lower stomach as you carefully move yourself towards the edge. Your hand shakes a little as you reach your hand up and through the small open window. You hesitate, your hand hovering over your daughter's tiny frame. The only place where she didn't have monitors and iv’s was her small hand. It was no bigger than your thumb nail. Barely big enough for the tip of your finger to fit in, taking a deep breath you gently touch her tiny hand with the tip of your finger.

Reflexively she grabs onto your fingertip, her tiny fingers gripping the tip of your finger. Emotion clogs your throat, but it's not you who makes a sound, instead it's Simon. It was quiet, and if you hadn't become accustomed to him over the past few months you never would’ve mistaken his sharp intake as annoyance. But you knew better, it was him trying to keep himself together. You glance over your shoulder and notice his brown eyes are glassy. A single tear falling down his cheek and dripping onto the pink overgown.

“Simon…” you whisper, reaching your other hand up to rest on his hand that is still firmly in place on your shoulder.

“Sorry..” he mumbles, wiping his hand across his eyes, before he clears his throat.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” You smile softly at him, “Come over here.”

Simon hesitates, but moves a little closer, coming to stand on the side of the wheelchair, you can feel the tension rolling off him in waves. His entire body was stiff, every movement seemed almost painfully slow.

You pull your hand out of the incubator and grab Simon's much larger hand, “It's okay, you won't hurt her.”

Simon's brown eyes searched your face, looking for any signs that it was a bad idea, he was so much larger than her, even you. His hands weren't the gentlest, and they had done terrible things for many years. How could he possibly touch something so small, something so innocent. His heart hammered wildly in his chest as you gently guided his hand into the incubator. As his index finger touched her small hand she grabbed it just like she had yours.

“See? You didn't hurt her,” you smile, leaning your head against his upper arm. You hated to admit it but even this small venture had you drained. The events of the past 24 hours are catching up to you fast. Your body was starting to hurt, and sitting was uncomfortable but you didn't want to leave.

How could you?

The image of Simon standing in front of the incubator was something you wanted burnt into your brain for the rest of your life. His hand, which was larger than your daughter's entire body, hovering over her as her hand gripped his finger. After a few moments, Simon pulled his hand out and looked down at you. His brow slightly furrowed as he took in your expression.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his fingers catching the side of your chin and tipping it up so he could see your face better.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you force a small smile, but Simon sees right through you.

“Don’t lie to me, you just had major surgery,” he grunts softly, his hand sliding to rest against your cheek. You instinctively lean into him, his palm warm and comforting.

“I’m just tired, and a little sore, but I don't want to leave her…” You whisper, your eyes falling shut. You were more than just a little sore, whatever pain meds they had given you were definitely wearing off. You could feel the incision now, it was a dull constant ache. But the headache that was starting to form behind your eyes was worse. It was like someone was taking an ice pick to the space behind your eyes.

“You need rest,” Simon frowns, his brown eyes trailing across your face, “we’ll come back later okay?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, and give a small nod. As much as you didn't want to leave you knew it was best that you got some rest. You weren't any good to anyone if you didn't heal. But it didn't stop the nagging feeling in your chest when Simon carefully pushed the wheelchair out of the room.

Once you're in the hallway Simon helps you take the overgown off, he throws the light pink objects in the trash and turns back to you.

“Ready?” He asks, “You can go take a nap and we can come back okay?”

Would they let you?

Did they have visiting hours here?

God why hadn't you researched the hospitals sooner?

What if something happened while you were resting?

What if she stopped breathing?

What if she died....

She was so small, so fragile, so breakable.

And it was all your fault. You couldn't do the one thing you were supposed to. You were supposed to keep her safe until she was strong enough. Your body was supposed to nourish her and carry her until she was bigger. She was too little. Who would protect her now that you, the person who's supposed to, couldn't.

“Hey,” Simon's thumb sweeps under your eye, “why are you crying?”

“It’s my fault…” You sob, tears falling rapidly now. “This is all my fault.”

“Love..” Simon whispers, now kneeling on the floor in front of the wheelchair. One hand resting on your knee the other on your cheek as he wipes away the flood of tears.

“None of this was your fault,” he grabs your chin, forcing your eyes to his. “None of it okay? You didn't do anything to cause this. It wasn't something we could have stopped okay? No one is blaming you, and I know that she won't either. Whatever happens, we’ll get through this okay? We’ll get through it together.”

“Okay…” You managed to breathe out but the tears didn't stop, and neither did the guilt eating a hole in your chest.

Next Part:

Taglist: @coffeeandtealol, @natashamea18, @itsmytimetoodream @humanities-cutest @ajrfanz @jggykhug09090 @dedicateeverythingtomilkshake @ashreblogsnow @liwooa

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #simon x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon #x reader #cod #cod x reader #Cod mw2 X reader #one night stand #one night sta #one night stand series #Dad #dad!simon riley #Mom!reader

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see-arcane · 5 months

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Yes Hirano's super weird with the "vampirism happens only with virgins" rule when it's decidedly not a thing in Dracula's vampirism lore. (Though not as weird as what he did to Mina, who deserves to crawl back to life and murder everyone in the whole manga for it)

True on both points.

Unfortunately, you've activated a mental trap card and now I'm about to explode into a barely-related tangent. Please stand by for hazy Hellsing spoilers to anyone who wants to look away.

The saddest thing about Hellsing is that it's one of the least headache-inducing Dracula-adjacent pieces of media I can think of.

Even with how Hirano draws Seras Victoria and That Scene with Rip Van Winkle. Even with his ~creative~ take on Vlad the Impaler. Even with what he retroactively does to Mina's remains. Even with Abraham van Helsing once again getting shoved through the No Really Honest for Real He was a Super Cool Occult Magic Man who was Definitely Solely Responsible for Taking Dracula Down!!1! filter (with Jonathan and Mina getting a whole single panel together, ooh, aah). Even with the nitpick of turning Helsing into Hellsing just because of the Edgy+ factor.

Even with all of that, I can still genuinely say I enjoy it.

First, because Alucard and company are there to kill Nazis and generally monstrous people who signed up to get superpowers to be even bigger monsters. I love seeing them get supernaturally woodchipper'd. Never disappoints.

Second, because Alucard/Dracula is--and this is vital--still a bastard. One who, via the lens of how the Hel(l)sing family did their murky magical experiments on him, got juiced up into the Mega Shounen Horror Ultrabadass version of himself...and promptly got put on a magic leash so that he could only bare his teeth at the command of his human Hel(l)sing master. And for decades, pre-Integra, he was left to wither and rot in a windowless cell. Waiting to be dusted off.

It's a unique psychological place to force the asshole into. It doesn't make him a good guy, but I'd say it makes him a better character. One who pushes the limits of how much of a monster he can be without breaking the tethers on him and his power. Even when the inevitable Count Fuckula ooh~ sexy sexypire~ glaze gets applied with his interactions with Integra, it's still shown how fucking aggravating and uninvited he is with it. How much he uses it as just another nettle. Just as he once used an admittedly classier/classic gothic predatory menace on Jonathan, Lucy, and Mina in the novel.

When the big climax comes and he gets to flex all of his bloated powers, he's reached an internal growth point where he, at the very least, takes a moment to acknowledge Integra and Seras as worthy of respect rather than just irritating or deriding them respectively.

As an aside, despite her obvious Fanservice Girl position, I do have to grudgingly give Hirano points for how he portrays Seras Victoria's position with Alucard. This is the first (and I think only!) time I've ever seen a Dracula turn some voluptuous babe and then...not make advances on her. Before or after. He turned her to save her life after shooting through her to kill the vampire at her back. If anything, this is the first time we see any form of Dracula take a non-sexual, strangely paternal approach to the assumed vampire bride of a story.

And then there's the matter of Alexander Anderson. He and the Iscariot organization are absolutely bristling with what-the-fuckery and religion-aesthetic weirdness I don't have the skill to untangle. But the set up between Anderson and Alucard at the climax by itself is an interesting thing for how it shows a kind of logical (by manga standards) extreme of Dracula looking peaceful in the novel's climax; how he died and turned to dust with serenity. He welcomed it.

Alucard/Dracula, for all his glee at being a sadistic overpowered monster, welcomes Anderson's attempt to kill him while the man is still human. He's eager to be slain by a righteous mortal hand--perhaps he always had been since that Transylvanian sunset when he was left paralyzed, but not put down. Just turned into an experiment and an attack dog for the century and change to come. And when Anderson resorts to inhumanity, to becoming a horror like him rather than remaining the human hero who rightfully slays the monster, it makes him livid. Heartbroken.

There's just a lot to pick apart with this version of Dracula that I find worth sitting through the nonsense for. He isn't watered down into a cartoon. He isn't turned into a wink-at-the-camera Casanova. He isn't ~doing it all for love~. He's still fucking Dracula. But a Dracula who's been dragged by the hair through an intriguing rock tumbler of a history and forced to play with a cast of characters that makes me want to see what happens next rather than roll my eyes at yet another cookie cutter DRACULA WAS SO AWESOME-COOL AND THE REAL ANTIHERO ALL ALONG AND ALL THE GIRLS WANTED HIM AND THE HUMAN HEROES WERE ACTUALLY ALL LAME OR SECRETLY EVIL narrative.

It's a bloodstained bullet-riddled eldritch undead fever dream.

All that and it has a Dracula who eats Nazis.

I'll take that shit and Crispin Freeman's velvet voice acting in a heartbeat over 90% of Dracula media that's been squatted out over the past 126 years.

#at this point I'm going dust off the manga collection for a reread #hellsing #mina harker #dracula #alucard

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lillified · 6 months

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can i ask what the general lore for your au is? love me some good lore

I think I’ve done a pitch outline before that’s covered some of this, but I can give you the basic background for reference! (Tumblr page search seems a bit broken the further back you get anyway)

Cybertron is an alien planet with a long history of strife. Following the reign of the Quintessons, a hostile and colonial alien species, and their eventual ousting, the remnants of a military-industrial state and its tyrannical caste system left only a matter of time before massive conflict erupted.

Cybertron: The original home planet of the Cybertronians, and the current territory of the Autobots. Cybertron is a very ancient planet formed around the remnants of an enormous organic “ancestor,” whose blood and other material is extracted for use as food. This organic material is vital to the survival of all Cybertronians, and the most important component, Energon, is extremely highly coveted. It can be found sparingly in other parts of the universe (notably other early established Cybertronian space colonies), but without access to the original ancestor, or its sparsely documented relatives and protégé, it is unrenewable, which would inevitably mark the end of the Cybertronian race. Extensive industrialization on a global scale made Energon sparse, and an exhaustive global war only exacerbated this scarcity.

The Decepticons: Made up primarily of the former lower castes of Cybertron, the Decepticons are a mish-mash group of revolutionary mercenaries, banded together to end the tyrannical rule of Cybertron. Although they were originally known as the Ascenticons, they gained the derogatory name after their defacto “leader,” Megatron, permanently maimed her rival for the primacy, Optimus, during a political demonstration that turned violent. Optimus was famously left without a lower jaw, and the brutal scuffle was used to galvanize moderates against the perceived extremity of the group.

Now, having been largely driven off of Cybertron after a battle which devastated both sides., the fractured branches of the Decepticons struggle to find places they can recoup and regather amid the cosmos. Their primary squad, team Alpha, is currently drifting in space, eagerly anticipating the day it can find the resources to reestablish communication with what remains of the Decepticon army.

The Autobots: A faction formed out of the former military of Cybertron and its allies. Figureheaded by the stoic and personable Optimus Prime, the Autobots barely hold onto control of Cybertron, and seek to persist against the Decepticons’ demands for radical reconstruction. Now made up of many of Cybertronian’s youth, plenty of Autobot soldiers aren’t fully aware of what they’re fighting for, and barely retain memories of life before the war. If the current course of the war continues, they hope to drive the Decepticons out of anywhere they’ve hidden until they surrender and concede.

The Present: With impassible stakes for everyone involved, if they want any hope of surviving and reclaiming Cybertron, the Decepticons must do the impossible: overcome their many differences and work as a team. Our story starts in the far reaches of space, where Decepticon Team Alpha is searching for resources and a temporary residence where they can begin to reestablish communication with their allies.

The members of Team Alpha include:

Megatron: the melancholic leader, whose reputation does not match her lethargic withdrawal.

Starscream: the second in command with a penchant for mutiny. Her disloyalty is kept a secret, for both Megatron’s sake and Starscream’s.

Soundwave: the enigmatic and cynically self-important communications officer and third in command. Their speciality is espionage and information control, though they haven’t seen much of it recently.

Lockdown: former bounty hunter turned medic. this mean-looking ‘Con might not be certified, but in a pinch, he’ll patch you up—by any means necessary.

Knockout: the only thing worse than a mad doctor is his lackadaisical and negligent assistant. Knockout doesn’t really believe the Decepticons will win, but his hate for the Autobots is stronger than his realism.

Breakdown: a bruiser-in-training rescued from a docked Decepticon warship. He and Blitzwing were the only trainees who survived being stasis fried. Albeit a strong and capable fighter, this ‘Con doesn’t really have the “Deception grit” yet.

Blitzwing: Breakdown’s fellow soldier. Though she was also trained to be a mercenary, Blitzwing lacks a lot of the natural talent for fighting Breakdown has. Her unrecognized skill lies in weaponsmithing, though Starscream hopes to make a competent combatant out of her yet.

Ravage: don’t be fooled—this weapon class Minicon only looks like a Cybercat. The eldest of Decepticon team alpha, this odd bot gave up his Cybertronian appearance to live out the laid back life of a lazy mechanimal. His powerful spark makes him Megatron’s weapon of choice.

#transformers #ask #text post #text #long post #lore

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so-very-small · 5 months

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it's not that difficult | doc ock x shrunken!reader part two

[link to part one]

[ao3 link]

Summary: It's been a week since you shrunk down in front of Otto. One week in a bird cage, of being a lab rat, and you decide it's time to escape. Of course it won't be that easy.

a/n: this was written at the request of @miniemew! it's a continuation of my previous Otto x tiny fic, and it was a blast to write. reader is gender neutral, and this goes heavy on the fearplay. that said, I hope y'all enjoy!

The past week has been a strange mix of awful and mundane.

And the open bird cage before you seems almost more like a test than a blessing.

Tests. That's what the past week has been. Otto had swept you away, into some dingy apartment that looked far too normal to belong to a supervillain. Still stuck at the unimpressive height of two inches tall, there was nothing you could do when he dropped you in a bird cage before vanishing. Despite his intense curiosity, the man had other things on his plate, evidently. He was gone for most of the nights and mornings, but in the evenings, he always had a few minutes to spare for you.

For studying you, more accurately.

Checking your vitals, measuring your height, maybe an endurance test on a hamster wheel - which was now more annoying rather than outright embarrassing. On one occasion he had drawn some blood with a needle that seemed too tiny to exist. Whatever data he had gleaned from you was carefully recorded in a notebook, before he returned you to the bird cage.

(To be fair, it actually is a pretty nice bird cage.)

It's silver, the sturdy bars just thick enough that you can't bend them out of the way, and spaced too close together to even think about slipping through. The metal bottom is covered with some fabric, an old shirt if you had to guess, which actually was quite comfortable to sleep on. The entire set up is suspended over his desk, with a relatively large door that latches tightly from the outside.

Except, this time, he hadn't quite latched it all the way.

Otto's gone right now, and it's night. If his pattern over the past week continues, he'll be gone for a few more hours at least. It takes a world of courage to even cross the bird cage over to the door, anxiety blooming in your chest. The latch was usually unreachable, but with it barely in its slot, it could spring free if you jiggle it just right. The fall to the desk would be survivable - Otto had sussed out that your shrinking had left you with some enhanced durability. From there you'd just have to find somewhere to hide, until your body finally decided to return to its normal height.

(It's as good a plan as any.)

(And frankly, it was the only plan you had. So, may as well.)

Taking in a shaky breath, you carefully take hold of the door, giving it a slow, tedious push up and out. The latch slips loose of its hold, and the door to the cage swings open with an audible creak. You cringe at the sound, eyes immediately flying up to scan over the messy office, as if Otto would conjure out of the shadows at the faintest noise. You stay perched at the door for a moment, listening carefully. There's absolutely no response - no movement, no distant sounds from further in the apartment.

After gauging the safety for a second, you decide to proceed. You jump down onto the desk, not giving yourself time to overthink it. The desk is chaos, loose wires and stray bolts scattered about, almost every surface covered with some form of scribbled down notes or blueprints. Organization is evidently not Otto's strong suit, and it takes a minute to navigate around pencils and bolts to the back of the desk. There's a small gap where it meets the wall, the cord from the desk lamp falling down to the ground behind it.

You don't really have time to weigh the small range of options you have right now, so you decide the cord is as good a move to get to the floor as any. It's just big enough to hold onto like a rope, and you carefully work on climbing down from the desk, ignoring the massive drop beneath you. With enhanced durability you wouldn't die from it, but it still wouldn't be pleasant. You'd scaled even higher climbs in your home before, but under less dire circumstances. The fear that Otto might return soundly trumps any anxiety over climbing down the cord.

You make it to the dusty floor soon enough, pausing for just a moment to catch your breath. Your heart is positively drumming in your chest, the sharp buzz of adrenaline running under your skin. You only rest for a second, though, before continuing onward, not wanting to linger any more than necessary.

The apartment was more of a workspace than an actual home, something you notice while navigating over and around the multitude of mechanical parts on the floor. It takes a minute to get your bearings, trying to find the door beyond all the scattered clutter, but you eventually find it. Out the office, down the hall, out the front door, and you'd be home free.

Escape is the only thing you have on your mind, as you swiftly creep through the messy workspace. It doesn't take too long to reach the door, the gap underneath is just big enough to squeeze through, out into the hall. The carpet fibers come up to your knees, making walking just a touch more challenging, but that's one of the last things on your mind right now. Turning right, you see the looming front door in the distance, like a beacon of hope. You immediately begin jogging towards it, a small buzzing bit of excitement starting to grow in your chest. Relief washes over you as escape gets closer and closer.

A heavy crash breaks the stillness in the air, and you immediately run into something sharp and hot. You stumble back like a bug bouncing off a windshield, falling to the ground. In front of you is an actuator, the massive claw clenching down into the carpeted ground, just a few sparse inches away from you. The actuator flexes slightly, metal whirring softly as you hear a soft chuckle behind and far above you. Paralyzed in place, the warmth of excitement immediately shifting into chilling dread, it takes everything you have to look over your shoulder.

Otto stands behind you, with a soft smile on his lips that only he could make look sinister. He lifts a hand, waving his fingers at you lightly like you were just an acquaintance at a grocery store, and not a captive in the middle of an escape attempt. You have to tilt your head all the way back to even get a glimpse of his dark eyes, the sharp curiosity in them sending another pang of fear down your spine.

The actuator rises up, causing you to whip your head back towards it, half prepared for the thing to snatch you up in its claw. It doesn't, though, instead it pulls back further and retreats behind Otto.

He looks down at you expectantly.

"Try again."

You stare at him for a moment and only just a moment, before scrambling to your feet and sprinting like your life depends on it. The drag of the carpet fibers slows you down a little, and you fully ignore it, intent on putting as much distance between you and the looming villain as you possibly can.

(But... that's what he wants, isn't it?)

(A chase.)

Heart pounding furiously in your chest, you zoom down the hallway, lungs nearly bursting from exertion. Over the rush of the wind in your ears you can't hear a single sound behind you, and you don't dare turn back to look. You make it to the very end of the hall before you hear the first footstep crash down behind you.

The living room is far less cluttered than the office, leaving nothing to hide behind, no last resort. The carpet transitioned into hardwood, making running just a touch easier. You stay focused on the sliver of light from under the front door, and not the sound of Otto casually following you, covering more distance in one footstep than you did in ten seconds.

Risking a glance over your shoulder, you find Otto practically on top of you. He'd closed the gap in no time, with that same awful smirk on his lips. The actuators are poised behind them, all their glowing eyes are trained on you. Otto's hands are carefully folded in front of him - making no move to grab you even as your speed slows down in the slightest.

(He's toying with you.)

(And the outcome of this was likely predetermined long ago.)

Without warning, a heavy boot slams down in front of you. You stumble, the small quake of his foot hitting the wooden floor being enough to knock you off your feet. The boot's angled carefully, just far enough to miss you. It's practically bus sized, utterly dwarfing your minuscule frame.

You stay still for only a moment, frozen with the icy fear that floods your veins. A distant chuckle rumbles overhead like thunder.

"Last chance," Otto says, from far, far above.

Despite the overwhelming futility, you scramble to your feet, quickly looping around the shoe in your path. It doesn't move, thank god, and you continue sprinting to the front door. Every bone in your body is screaming out for rest, but you don't dare stop.

The gap underneath the door gets closer and closer, as close as the booming footsteps behind you do. A foot away, ten inches, five, almost there .

And then Otto slams an actuator down, the tremor of his metal claw on the ground knocking you straight off of your feet once more. You hit the floorboards hard, heart pounding sent into overdrive as you catch sight of the looming claw in front of you.

Scrambling upright again, you shuffle backwards from it. The claw darts up, pointed prongs of metal now directly facing you. There'd be no way to run past it without running into it, so you dart to the right, further into the living room. There's practically no energy left in your body at all, lungs and limbs burning from exertion, and you don't dare stop. The overwhelming sound of creaking metal follows you, and there's a harsh yank on the back of your shirt as you're swept off the ground by the actuator.

You struggle, although the grip it has on the back of your shirt makes it far too tight to slip out of. Fingers scrambling up, you hook them between the collar of the shirt and your neck, trying to ease up some of the pressure.

Something eclipses the light overhead, and you barely have time to process the giant hand in your vision before it swallows you up. Otto snatches you in a tight fist, arms pinned immobile to your sides. He raises you up to his eye level, at a speed that makes the whole world swirl around you, vertigo in overdrive. His sharp brown eyes light up once you're in sight, a crinkle around the corners giving away his excitement.

Despite the overwhelming helplessness, you struggle, attempting in vain to loosen the hold of his fingers wrapped around you. His hand didn't budge a centimeter, if anything his grip tightened in the slightest amount, just enough to knock a little air out of your lungs. Otto doesn't say a word, he merely turns to the sofa in the living room, quickly crossing over to take a seat. A notebook is perched on the coffee table, and he flips to a half-filled page with his free hand, quickly writing something down.

"Was... was this a test?" You sputter out, half convinced the man would ignore you entirely. Your voice is strained, still unable to get a proper lungful of air with his fingers around you, but his brown eyes do flit to you for a moment.

Otto lowers his fist to the table, loosening it and roughly dropping you onto the coffee table. You land on top of a stack of sticky notes, and you don't dare move. Even if you wanted to attempt to run again, you're far too exhausted to even try. You let yourself collapse, still trying to catch your breath.

"Of course," Otto answers, not looking up from the page he was still scrawling on.

He eventually glances at you, leaning in slightly closer. Otto fills your entire vision, his looming for making you feel like you were in the front row of a movie theater. A little bit of brown hair fell into those dark eyes, which flicked down as he carefully took your form in.

"I wanted to see how fast you could run," he says, smiling once more. His voice is polite and even, as if he didn't just admit to terrifying you on purpose. He turns back down to his notes, still jotting a few things down. "Obviously, your functions are affected when I monitor you closely for tests. I wanted something a little less structured than a hamster wheel."

He finishes writing, carefully setting down his pen on the table. His eyes snap back to you, looking at your face carefully. You're still breathless and sore, trying to gather yourself mentally and physically from the escape attempt, and you feel absolutely pinned under his gaze.

"You couldn't really have thought you were going to escape?" he says, raising an eyebrow.

"I... I kinda did, yeah," you reply. You'd never snapped at him, never raised your voice, but the adrenaline still buzzing in your system and the absolute fury and exhaustion you feel can't help but spill out a little into your tone. "Even if I got caught, I had to try."

Otto nods, surprisingly accepting your answer with ease. He leans back on the sofa slightly, actuators draping over the back of it. His eyes are unwavering, still pointedly trained on you.

"Admirable, if not reckless," he says, "I must say though, you're far safer with me than you would be out there. I can't imagine what Oscorp would do if they got their grubby hands on you."

Pushing yourself up from the sticky notes, you rise to your feet, crossing your arms over your chest. Despite how correct he probably was, that wasn’t his call to make.

"Can't be worse than a goddamn hamster wheel," you mutter. Despite keeping your voice low, Otto does catch it, and he laughs brightly. He almost seems harmless for a second.

"I can assure you, my dear, they would not be as kind as me. I'm curious, but I do not intend to do you any harm. Other scientists, well, their methods of discovery aren't always so kind towards their specimens."

You narrow your eyes at the man, trying to gauge if you should believe him. There was no doubt that Oscorp would have been a nightmare if they had found you, and in all honesty, living at the apartment wasn't going to work out long term. You didn't need confirmation that the world outside was dangerous, but you still wonder how honest he was really being.

"You won't hurt me, but you'll keep me in a bird cage for a week?"

Otto shrugs, unbothered by the accusation.

"Can’t risk you running off and hurting yourself," he says.

He leans in once more, slowly bringing a hand down in front of you. The same one that snatched you up earlier. You look at it warily, waiting for it to grab you in a fist, pinch the back of your shirt and dangle you, but he doesn't. He simply lays it level with the sticky notes, right in front of you. You can feel the heat off of his skin, see the shift of his muscles as he waits.

"May I?"

(He'd never asked if he could hold you before.)

(You can see his fingers twitch in impatience, and decide not to push his kindness too far.)

You gingerly step onto the man's calloused palm, feeling his muscles and tendons twitch underneath you. It's a little hard to keep your balance, but he brings his thumb up, something for you to brace your hands on as he raises his palm to his face. It's far closer than when he was looming over the table, all the minuscule details on his face magnified.

"As far as I'm aware of, you're the only one like you in existence," he says. He lowered his voice for you, the usually brash and proud tone now just a quiet whisper. It was still overwhelming regardless. "I wouldn't allow harm to come your way, that would entirely deprive me of figuring you out. I am still just a physicist at heart, dear, you cannot expect me to not be fascinated by a person who can change their bodily mass on a whim."

You can feel the heat coming off his hand, the shift of his thumb under your palms. From this close, every time he exhales it ruffles your hair in the slightest. His eyes are a mix of a dozen brown shades, still locked firmly on you, and you shift your weight from foot to foot.

"It's not on a whim," you correct.

(If it was on a whim, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now.)

"But it could be," Otto says, "Someday."

With that, he rises to his feet. The thumb you're holding onto gently pushing you back, knocking you off your feet and pressing you into his other fingers, coming to rest around your waist like a makeshift seat belt. A small noise of protest escapes your lips, ignored as Otto takes up his notes and walks back to the office.

(It takes him just a few seconds.)

(All the agonizing minutes you had spent running, trying to cross that distance, and he closes it in just a few seconds.)

Otto enters the office, quickly reaching the desk and taking a seat. You half expect him to immediately return you to the bird cage. He doesn't, though, fingers shifting you slightly in his palm, so he can rest his elbow on the desk, leaving you sitting in his hand at eye level. His thumb stays locked over you, like a heavy weighted blanket in your lap.

(You don't think you could get it to budge, even if you tried.)

"You honestly know less about your shrinking than I do, and I've barely begun to scratch the surface," Otto says. He speaks with a certainty that's just a little grating. "Your powers are incredibly unstable now, but there's no indication that it will always be that way. And even so, I still want to know how it works, what makes you tick."

He looks down at you, with that familiar glint in his eyes. It's positively piercing.

"And I can promise I'll be less invasive than any other scientist you meet who wants the same thing."

Looking up at the man, you can't help but believe him. Your work at Oscorp had been brief enough to not see anything too awful, but you knew that the company had a dark underbelly. Otto, at the very least, wouldn't be killing you anytime soon. You can see on his face he's expecting a response, and you shrug.

"It's not like I have a choice, is it?"

Otto chuckled humorlessly, the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Clever little thing, aren't you?"

With that, his other hand sweeps in, two large fingers gently pinching around your chest and back. It knocks the wind out of you slightly, but his grip is careful, holding you just tight enough that you wouldn't slip from his grasp. He lifts you from his other palm, gently setting you on the desk. His warm fingers stay in place until you're balanced on your feet, and then he pulls away gently.

That clinical curiosity never once leaves his eyes. He glances behind you, searching for something amid the mess of his desk. When he reaches out for it, his arm arches over you, eclipsing the light overhead. His bicep practically becomes your entire sky, and in a second it's gone, once he grabbed the ruler behind you.

"Stand straight, my dear," he says.

You know the drill well enough, you stand up just a bit straighter as you feel the ruler fall into place behind your back. It presses flush against you, the cold plastic sending a chill down your spine. Otto leans in closer, dark eyes narrowed in scrutiny at the tiny numbers marking your height. His eyebrows raise, evidently a little surprised before he leans back in his chair, the ruler clattering down onto the table.

"You gained half an inch," he says, and you can't tell how he feels about that. There's a clinical edge to his tone, covering any real emotion.

You can't quite even tell how you feel about that. Half an inch was fairly inconsequential to regular sized folk, but it was everything to you. Things had seemed a touch smaller than before, but you didn't think you had grown that much. This was the longest you'd been tiny, and knowing you were growing back - if incredibly slowly - was something of a relief.

"Huh," you can't help but say out loud, showcasing a little of your surprise. Otto quirks up an eyebrow.

"You didn't notice?" he asks, with a small tilt of his head.

You shrug, slouching a little now that you don't have to hold yourself up.

"Everything is big at this scale, there wasn't much of a visual change," you say, "It's all still overwhelming."

Otto nods, and you can see the gears in his head turning once more. It's always obvious when he's thinking hard about something - leaning in, eyes narrowed, something intense in his face. It makes you feel like a bug under a microscope, fully on display, analyzed at every angle.

"Interesting," he comments. "I imagine at a certain point it's hard to gauge anything's size accurately, like estimating building dimensions just by viewing them. I don't blame you for not noticing."

(It's kind of a little surprising how well he gets it.)

"And you also said you grow back instantaneously, correct? This isn't typical, is it?"

You take a second before nodding, thinking back of all the times you had shrunk alone in your apartment. Most of the time you'd fall asleep tiny, and wake up normal sized - it was rare you were actually awake for growing back. The few times you had, you had only short bursts, and those were generally exhausting enough to knock you out regardless.

"I'm usually asleep for it," you say, "I just wake up at my usual height. I'm always pretty sore after."

Otto chuckles.

"I'm not surprised. I can't imagine your physical form changing that much, that rapidly, would be a comfortable feeling. If you do wind up having discomfort with growing back, I can give you something for the pain."

You don't reply instantly. You merely look up at the man, trying to read into his expression, figure out what's beyond the clinical curiosity on his face. He seems passive, detached, and then he expresses concern in the same breath. It's a little confusing, and you're tired of being confused.

"So, what's your deal?"

Otto raises his eyebrows, evidently not expecting the pointed question. He doesn't speak, but merely looks at you expectantly, tilting his head slightly as he waits for you to clarify.

"So you want to figure me out like a science project, I get that," you say, and you try not to think about if it's stupid to speak so candidly to a giant supervillain, "But why be nice to me?"

Otto's expression remains blank, and he leans in closer. Both his hands come up to rest on the desk, one on either side of you, palms pressed down onto the flat surface. His long fingers make you feel fully surrounded on all sides, that feeling only increasing when his face stops just a few relative feet from yours. His brown eyes lock onto you, and when he speaks, the breath from his lips ruffles your hair like the wind.

"You think I'm being nice to you?"

You swallow thickly, nervously looking up at the man. You resist the urge to stagger backwards - any distance you could put between the two of you, he could close in a fraction of the time. This close to his face, you can see every little imperfection in his skin, every single fleck in his eyes. It makes you forget what you're saying, for just a moment.

"I-I mean, you said yourself you're being kinder than other scientists," you say, voice coming out just a bit more timid than you'd have liked it to, "And if you really didn't care, you wouldn't worry about the pain from growing. It... I just..."

You pause, tilting your gaze down to the desk. The fake wooden swirls in the wood seem positively fascinating, much more easier to look at than the giant face in front of you. You can still feel the heat off his hands, the pressure of his gaze still on you.

"I'm sorry," you say after a second, "I'm... this is weird, I've never been kidnapped before, I'm still adjusting."

Otto stares at you for a moment more, before chuckling lightly. You hear the low noise intimately, the exhale gently brushing over your skin. He draws back, his face and one of his hands retreating to give you some breathing room.

"Ultimately when I figure out your powers, you'll have figured them out as well. At that point, you'll either escape and be clever enough to utilize said powers to evade me, and that will be the end of it. Or, you could stay and help me."

Eyebrows furrowing in confusion, you look up at the man. There's nothing but sincerity in his features, something almost as surprising as his words.

"Help you?"

"Someone who can change their size at will could be quite an asset to my work. I'm more than capable of most things, but the actuators don't lend themselves to subtlety well. I think I could get some use out of someone who can be a touch more discreet when the situation calls for it."

He wanted you.... to become a supervillain?

That's honestly not what you expected.

"So... you're being nice to me so I'll help you break the law?"

Otto shrugged.

"To put it simply, I suppose."

In all honesty, it isn't that bad of an idea. You'd heard the stories of Doc Ock, you knew he was terrifying, but he wasn't the worst as far as supervillains went.

"I'm... I'm not a killer, or anything."

Otto leaned back in his chair, and he carefully drummed his fingers on the desk. Each tap sent a small shake through the wood, reverberating through your tiny frame. With the hand so close it was almost overwhelming, seeing fingers twice as tall as you are moving so swiftly, and it's all you can do to try to not look unnerved by it.

"I'm hardly one myself, dear. The actuators do the dirty work, it's not something I'd expect of you." He pauses his tapping, thinking for a moment before continuing. "The media likes to highlight my more... uncontrolled moments. My real plan is actually nothing evil at all, it's simply a device that would create unlimited clean energy. Were you to help me, I'd just need your assistance in getting some parts, materials, that sort of thing."

He seems like he's being genuine.

There's no hint of a lie in those eyes, and while you know this man is dangerous, he's no less dangerous than everything else is at this size. Even if you didn't wind up helping him down the line - his thought on you escaping when you can control your powers was a good idea, actually - it'd be smart to play along.

His hand next to you rises up, carefully and slowly. His fingers approach you, and you try not to flinch back. It's almost like watching a bus directly come at you, the size and speed overwhelming, but you can tell his every motion is meticulous. Extending his pointer finger, he gently presses it to your back. Moving it down in almost a petting motion, a small smile flits over his lips.

"However, that's not a topic of conversation until we get a better grasp on your abilities," he says, "When you're useful enough to be an asset, we'll talk then. But for now-"

"Bird cage?" you interrupt, unable to keep back a small sigh.

Otto smiles, corners of his eyes crinkling up. The rest of his fingers dart forward, carefully flexing around your frame and scooping you up once more. You tumble back into the digits, quickly held in place by his thumb as he brings you back up to eye level.

"Oh, I thought we were beyond that?" he says, "Friends, and all that."

Otto stands to his feet, further making your head spin as you're shot up relative stories by the movement. Your hands come up to brace on his thumb, well aware the loose grip he holds you in is the only thing saving you from a long fall to the ground below. Otto raises his free hand, tugging back his leather jacket. The hand holding you drifts towards the inner pocket, and your eyes widen at the sight.

"Hey!" you yell out, because you don't necessarily want to be in a bird cage, but you definitely don't want to be in his pocket right now either. Otto doesn't respond, instead he tugs the pocket open, and drops you inside.

You tumble down roughly into the cloth, and it takes a second to scramble upright. Looking up you can see a sliver of light from the opening of the pocket, swiftly extinguished when he drops his coat back against his chest. It's warm, especially pressed right up against him, held in place by the thick leather of the coat.

"There’s a few things I need to attend to tonight,” he says, and you can feel every word shake through your bones, “Thanks for the company, my dear.”

Letting out a sigh, you relax back into the pocket, letting the warmth of him wash over you. Everything shifted slightly as he started walking, and you shut your eyes. Accompanied by the booming sound of his heartbeat and your exhaustion, it doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

#g/t #giant/tiny #macro micro #otto octavius #doc ock x reader #otto octavius x reader #my writing

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omegalomania · 7 months

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i kept forgetting to do this, but i finally remembered we got permission to upload the full pieces done for the SEASONS ZINE! they're not quite as good without @deathchic's gorgeous prose accompanying them, but they were really exciting to put together.

full breakdowns of the symbolism and unobstructed views of each card can be found beneath the cut, fully transcribed. as a warning, they are LONG.

my category was "fall," which encompassed the folie and save rock and roll eras, including the welcome to the new administration mixtape and pax am days ep. seeing as i've a great deal of love for all four of those works and fall out boy has four members, i decided to highlight each work by creating a tarot-inspired card, each featuring a member of the band.

Welcome to the New Administration: Pete Wentz

Pete was the primary organizer behind the viral campaign for CitizensFOB, making him the ideal pick for this card. His card prominently features his bass guitar with the iconic Clandestine logo.

Repeating Number 4: 4 stars above the eagle's head, 4 markings across the cube at the center, 4 members of the band

The tri-colored drapes behind Pete were suspended behind the band on the mixtape cover. The curtains parting over a black background signifies the oncoming hiatus.

The cube-like geometric shape in front of the eagle represents the single promotional art done for "America's Suitehearts," which was one of the tracks demoed in the mixtape and one of the singles that connected most prominently with the themes of the mixtape.

The shield Pete carries and the eagle mounted behind him are both symbols that were used to promote the CitizensFOB viral campaign, featuring the catchphrase: "For Our Betterment, There Is More Mayhem."

Pete's apparel is what he was wearing for the Believers Never Die Part Deux tour, in which there was a lot of direct satirization of Wall Street and American politics. All the band members were wearing suits and looking visibly battered, and Pete had a nosebleed. Patrick also has a nosebleed on his own card; both Pete and Patrick's cards are pre-hiatus projects.

The symbols at the four corners of the card are indicative of the imagery surrounding the campaign. The pointing hand comes from the cover for the mixtape; the airplane is a reference to the "Mailbaick Vaintey and Pidetaerson Firm" videos and accounts that were used in the viral campaign; the wolf head is for the "Alpha Dog" demo, which made its debut on the CitizensFOB mixtape and namedropped "Welcome to the New Administration" title in its demo form; the boomerang is for the "Lake Effect Kid" demo, which also made its debut on the CitizensFOB mixtape.

"The Citizen" is an obvious reference to the "Citizens For Our Betterment" campaign name.

The card features 12 colors, all colorpicked from the Welcome to the New Administration mixtape cover. This represents the 12 artists who contributed the mixtape musically (not merely speaking roles): The Academy Is..., Butch Watcher, The Cab, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, Four Year Strong, Gym Class Heroes, Hey Monday, The Hush Sound, Panic! At The Disco, A Rocket to the Moon, and Tyga.

The background elements are indicative of the state of the band prior to the hiatus: the leaves are in tatters and shreds. The sunflower is a native Chicago variant, Helianthus occidentalis, late-blooming sunflower that lasts well into early fall. Sunflowers obviously have a strong association with the sun, but they also stand for adoration, loyalty, good fortune, vitality, longevity, and prosperity. The bright yellow color also associates them with intelligence, happiness, and friendship. Van Gogh had a famous Sunflower series, leading to the obvious connection to Infinity on High, the album preceding the Folie era. This made it a good pick for the pre-hiatus cards, since it was loyalty and friendship that led to the hiatus and ultimately to the band's longevity and vitality. Both Folie à Deux and the Welcome to the New Administration mixtape had more yellow tones than their post-hiatus counterparts as well, thus the pick of a yellow flower.

Folie à Deux: Patrick Stump

Patrick has stated that Folie à Deux is the most "him" out of Fall Out Boy's discography, making him ideal for this card.

Repeating Number 4: 4 electric bursts from the microphone, 4-sided symbol mounted on the microphone, 4 ruffles on Dr. Benzedrine's front

The card features 13 colors to represent the 13 tracks on the album itself (excluding bonus tracks). All colors were colorpicked directly from the album cover.

The anchor is a reference to the lyrics of "27," with a crown symbol on it in reference to "Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet."

There are 9 stripes on the upper side of the background, as a reference to "West Coast Smoker" - the suicidal cats have 9 lives.

The microphone represents Patrick's role as vocalist. It is also a reference to "(Coffee's for Closers)," as the microphone stand is electrified.

Patrick's right half is modeled after his costume in the "America's Suitehearts" video, "Dr. Benzedrine." He has a nosebleed in reference to the lyrics of the song that is his namesake, "20 Dollar Nose Bleed." Both he and Pete represent pre-hiatus projects, and both have bleeding noses.

Patrick's left half is modeled after his costume in the "What A Catch, Donnie" video. He has 20 stripes on his shirt - half black and half white, keeping with themes of duality. The 20 total stripes also references "20 Dollar Nose Bleed."

The background on the bottom half is shattered into 15 visible fragments, indicating the 15 tracks of the full album (when including bonus tracks such as "Pavlove" and "Lullabye"). There are also 27 fragments scattered between the two halves of Patrick, representing "27" and the 27 club.

The symbols at the four corners have dual meanings, in keeping with the theme of duality. The bee is both a lyrical reference to "Lullabye" and a nod to the intro of "Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes"; the storm cloud is both a nod to the lyrics of "She's My Winona" and a reference to the "Mr. Sandman" character in the "America's Suitehearts" video; the horseshoe crab is both a reference to the lyrics on "The (Shipped) Gold Standard" and to the character of "H. Shoe Crab" in the "America's Suitehearts" video; the sunflower acknowledges the lyrics in "27" about shooting the sunshine into one's veins and nods to the flower on the hat of the "Donnie the Catcher" character in the "America's Suitehearts" video.

"The Mirror" references the theming of duality on the album, as well as the fact that the vinyl required a mirror for one to read the tracklisting since the text was printed backwards.

The card features heavy themes of duality to suit the theme of a "madness shared by two." The image is bisected in several respects: Patrick is fractured in two, both halves wearing different costumes and expressions; the shadow in the center is split down the middle; the broken heart in the upper half is also two faces; the image is divided both horizontally and vertically; and a dichotomy of fire (the electrified microphone stand) and water (the anchor).

Save Rock and Roll: Joe Trohman

Joe took a much more active writing role post-hiatus and on this album in particular, making him a good pick to represent Save Rock and Roll.

Repeating Number 4: 4 symbols, 4-pointed symbol holding up the others

The card features 11 colors, representing 11 tracks on the album. All colors were color-picked directly from the album cover, with an emphasis on reds, to suit the "red palette" imagery surrounding the album.

This card is saturated with imagery from the 11-part video series the band released in conjunction with the album, "The Youngblood Chronicles." Joe is wearing the costume he had for the majority of the video series prior to his death.

The card features heavy fire imagery due to this being a motif on the album and on the associated video series, with smoke rising up in the background. This is indicative of the band "rising from the ashes" post-hiatus, and also symbolizes the resurrection of Joe's character at the end of "The Youngblood Chronicles."

The guitar-axe weapon is from the "Death Valley" video and would have been his weapon if he weren't dead at this point in time. The card prominently features Joe's guitar, albeit turned into a weapon, as befitting the theming.

The four symbols mounted behind Joe are also from "The Youngblood Chronicles" - the symbol representing the "Silence the Noise" group; the symbol associated with the gang of child bikers; the symbol the Prince of Darkness tattoos on Joe's hand; and the crown-and-volcano symbol associated with the band post-hiatus. The symbol upon which these four icons are mounted is found on the floor in Heaven in the "Save Rock and Roll" video.

Joe is the only one who does not face the audience directly, and is turned in profile. Given the fictional nature of the narrative of "The Youngblood Chronicles," he has the most distance from the fourth wall.

The symbols at the four corners of the card also draw from imagery from "The Youngblood Chronicles." The disco ball is from the "Where Did the Party Go" video, in which Joe's character dies. The briefcase is a consistent object throughout the entire series, and serves to incite the entire narrative. Patrick's hook hand, also seen throughout, is significant due to Patrick's unwitting role as Joe's murderer. The snake, seen in "Young Volcanoes" and "Just One Yesterday," is representative of the group's collective trauma.

"The Defender" is a reference to the names of the characters of Fall Out Boy in "The Youngblood Chronicles," as they are referred to as "The Defenders of the Faith" in the longform video's opening credits. This title is in and of itself a reference to the title track on Save Rock and Roll.

Pax Am Days: Andy Hurley

The Pax Am Days EP is closest to the band's hardcore roots in terms of sonics and composition, and Andy is the most active in hardcore circles today, which makes him an ideal pick for this card.

Repeating 4: 4 holes in the American flag, 4 supports visible on the toms and bass drum, 4 tears on the left side of the wall

The card features 9 colors, all color-picked from the EP cover, per the 9 tracks on the EP (counting the bonus "New Dreams" Naked Rayguns cover).

There are also 9 tears on the right side of the wall, also befitting the 9 tracks on the EP.

The black-and-white checkered background represents the Pax Am studio where the EP was recorded and after which it was named.

Andy is the only one whose card features him looking directly at the audience, to signify the more intimate recording sessions behind the EP, in which studio chatter and laughter can be heard between every track. Being the drummer of the band, Andy's drumkit is naturally featured very prominently.

The crown-volcano symbol that's become synonymous with the band post-hiatus is (barely) visible mounted on Andy's bass drum. This is a similarity Andy's card shares with Joe's, as they both represent post-hiatus projects.

The American flag was also present in the studio for recording. The flag being torn and shredded on the card relates to tracks on the EP that discuss disillusionment with the American dream ("American Made"). It is also indicative of the eras preceding and following the Pax Am EP (Folie à Deux and the Welcome to the New Administration mixtape, and then American Beauty / American Psycho).

The four symbols at the corners of the card all represent lyrics present on the EP: the crown comes from "We Were Doomed from the Start (The King is Dead)"; the lion comes from "Demigods"; the black widow comes from "Hot to the Touch, Cold on the Inside"; the skull comes from "Love, Sex, Death."

"The Believer" is a reference to the final compilation prior to the band's four-year hiatus, "Believers Never Die." With the band returning seemingly from the dead, it seems that believers truly never die. This is paired with Andy reportedly being the only member of the band who always believed they would get back together, even if none of the others did.

The background elements for the post-hiatus cards feature leaves with much more reddish tones. The color red has a great deal of symbolic meanings, including high energy, vitality, strength, and prosperity. Additionally, the fallen leaves are rich and whole, to contrast the shredded-looking leaves in the background for the pre-hiatus cards. After the hiatus, the band's overall health and mentality was much healthier.

The flower in the background is a Madame Julia Correvon clematis, a wine-red Chicago variant of clematis that blooms in the summer and fall. Clematis flowers are associated with mental acuity, wisdom, travel, aspiration, and mischief. Red clematis in particular is associated with passion, energy, good luck, prosperity, security, physical vitality, and courage. This, along with the red color scheme, made it a good flower to represent the cards for the post-hiatus projects.

#fall out boy #fob #seasons zine #*mine #*art #ids in the alt text #i overthought so much of this symbolism lol #and the flowers arent 100% accurate to what theyre supposed to look like...#alas! it was fun regardless

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lunarliyah · 6 days

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Mercury retrograde Aries 2024 is wrapping up next up..

Pluto Retrograde

We all probably noticed a lot of arguments and disagreements. We have to make sure that we are still double checking things. Make sure not to get too aggressive on the road. Make sure that when you feel overwhelmed, use this time to workout and get moving. Let off some steam by being active. After this Mercury retrograde we will soon enter a Pluto retrograde in Aquarius.

Pluto Retrograde is May 2nd to October 11th. Pluto is the planet if destruction, rebirth, power struggles, control, and transformations. These are the main themes. This mean to mainly focus on your emotions. This can be a vital thing to do is to control what you can. If something is out of your control, please let it go. This will not be the time to be overbearing. It’s best to go with the energy’s. This may be a time where working together with people could be better than having the mentality of “me vs the world”. Be a good sport, lend a hand, accept help, and lastly accept things for what they are. Do not be too hard on yourselves. Literally, the entire summer will be in Pluto retrograde. Let loose and have fun. Do not over analyze. Feel how you feel. Do not try to rationalize during that time too. Allow things to flow. Also this could manifest in people feeling like they should take matters into their own hands. People could be tired of passiveness and become more aggressive with what they want. They let it be known what they want and go after it.

With Pluto being in Aquarius. Togetherness and community will be a big theme. More so of people trying to lead. Everyone will be trying to do their own thing. There could be a lot of entitled behaviors. Lots of controlling behavior. Relationships may be turmoil due to the energy of need to be freed and doing what people want to do. Not the best time for relationships. It’s actually may be hard to talk to new people. Frustration may appear because people aren’t behaving like how we may thing they should. Having high exceptions for others. Of course technology will be big. Social media mainly. TikTok may actually be banded or going through legal processes of trying to figure out who takes over that app. People will feel more confident with starting youtube channels. Lot of content creating endeavors. Being unique online will be the way to go instead of following trends for instant engagement.

What does this mean for your sign?

Let’s look at your rising sign

Aries.

Networking a lot with others. Trying to built connections. May be easier with Aquarius being in Pluto. May work in your favor. Having fun with others. Others may be a big theme. Letting go of your ego. Letting go of thinking you can do everything by yourself. People reaching out to help you/guide you.

Taurus.

This is a time where new experiences will cause a transformation. The more you explore, the more things will reveal themselves. Try to be open minded.

Gemini.

This is where things that cause stability with be transformative. This is a time to make sure that you can handle things on your own. Build things on your own to benefit you in the long run. This does not mean don’t accept help, but make sure you’re doing things for yourself. Not the time to by hyper dependent on others.

Cancer.

This is time to consider your community. Work with others and build connections. Network like crazy. And give back to those in need. This will be beneficial. Make sure this is coming from a genuine place though.

Leo.

This is the time where things may feel very Deja vu. Your intuition is heightened during this time. Trust your gut.

Aquarius.

This is the time to try to stay as organized as possible. A lot of things may feel like they’re hitting you all at once. Remember to stay strategic.

Pisces.

Do not try to force any connection or conversation. If they wanted to, they would. Let it go if you have to. Please to don’t form any attachments.

Virgo.

This is the time where you really want to prioritize yourself. Do not allow people to control or manipulate you. You may be tried by people trying to control you, make decisions for you, etc. Make sure you stand your ground as it may be difficult to.

Libra.

You may find it difficult to relax. Very anxious during this time. Make sure to find some healthy coping mechanisms. Do not panic at all as you may overreact.

Scorpio.

This is the time where you may be more in your head than normal. It may be difficult to communicate with others during this time. Make sure to slow down and double check things as this may feel like mercury retrograde part 2 lol. Slow down.

Sagittarius.

This is where you may feel misunderstood from your family. Or family trying to make decisions for you. Trying to control or being overly critical. This is the time to prioritize your home life and make it a safe place for you to relax. Get rid of things or people that do not serve you in your home.

Capricorn.

This is not the time to let your ego do the thinking. Make sure everything is genuine. Do not do a lot of bragging as karma may come around and cause a huge 360. Be humble and continue to let your work do the talking. This will be very rewarding.

Be sure to book your readings using the link in the bio. Thank you all for reading, hopefully this was helpful and informative.

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immortalwandererxoxo · 3 months

Text

It's me, can't you see?

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Reader/Dark urge

Summary/Setting: “You thought they knew and saw you for who you were. The nights around the campfire, the jokes and stories you shared, the rounds of constant checking in on them, it was all for nothing. The hate in their eyes was apparent and set for who could honestly trust a bhaalspawn, and perhaps this was for the best. You thought I’d be free of these urges, these feelings, this life. I’m done; I’ve had enough of all this; how nice your last sight on this plane would be, those jewel-red piercing eyes."

Rating/Warnings: Basically for everyone just get ready to cry your little heart out lol

Word Count: 1,903

A/N: Sooo this is the first fic I've written in a while, so please be gentle with me. Honestly, I just kept thinking about this kind of scenario constantly running through my head. I'll be posting this here and on AO3 if you prefer to read it there as well! Currently, I am writing the second chapter on this. At first, I was going to only do one shot but the ideas just kept growing lol

-----

It was your birthright; that is what the funny-looking butler has said to you. A gift was to be bestowed upon you, but only if you killed the selunite cleric Isobel… the last hope for last light inn.

Your first encounter with her was tense; even being near her brought on a violent pounding within your skull as if it were to spilt any second; you tried to push past it to focus on the vital information that Isobel was explaining in regards to Moontower, it fell on deaf ears, the roaring in your ears started to get louder, your vision began to darken at the edges, no you thought not now! Your finger began to twitch as if in anticipation of unleashing the same horror that claimed the poor bard Alfira.

You needed to remove yourself now. You quickly mumbled about needing a moment to yourself before sprinting out Isobel room and down the stairs and making your way to the furthest edge of the light barrier to try and gather yourself.

“Breathe, just breathe, please just stop; you silently pleased with just you and your horrid twisted mind. You squeezed your eyes tight, though it seemed to not really matter. In fact, it just made the images appear faster in your mind. Oh, the beautiful ways you could rearrange the limbs of Isobel body, bones snapping, eyes all but gone and left with gaping holes of nothing and filled with nothing, darkness, and hopelessness. The delicious fear of condemning these pathetic souls that cling to life only for it to be snuffed out in an instant just if blowing out a candle. It would be so easy.

The sound of footfalls told you that the others had finished up with the Cleric and had most likely come to see why their leader had run out on them.

“Wretched thing, pull yourself together,” You whispered quickly, trying to dissipate the vile thoughts still wracking your mind and readying yourself to answer the many questions probably going to be hurled upon you.

“Oh darling, was that cleric prattling on too much for you to bear? Even Shadowheart had to restrain herself before tearing into her about her love and how much better her dark lady was ha! Astarion says with a

“Ah, my love, are you alright? Darling your hands!

This is what breaks you out of your dazed self. You open your hands to reveal puncture wounds you had inflicted upon yourself. You didn’t even notice your hands had formed into closed fists, forcing yourself to restrain yourself to the point small droplets of your blood had begun to pool a bit in your palm.

“Yes… I.. I’m alright. I just needed fresh air; this shadow curse must do a number on me. You could feel Astarion eyes boring into you. He must have known you were lying, but he didn’t press further, and you were thankful for that. You were not in the right head space to tell him what you had just expressed, nor did you really feel the others would care when you had more pressing issues to address. You must focus on the task at hand and find the nightsong. Your pain could be dealt with later.

“Let’s head back to camp with the others. Gale said he is trying out a new recipe, and it don’t worry; he even managed to find the good kind of wine just for Astarion.

————————————————————————————————————--------------------------------------------------------------

As Gale started passing out the new stew, he managed to salvage together from the stocked-up ingredients you collected throughout your journey; Shadowheart began to explain the current mission and what you had missed. But your heart and mind weren’t all there, considering what happened previously. When would you be rid of these violent urges, these sick thoughts that clouded your mind?

With dinner complete, you did your normal rounds around the camp, checking in on everyone; you were a bit apprehensive in speaking with Astarion, concerned that he would ask you what had happened since you never really did address why you ran out, but no he didn’t even bring it up, you would have thought you would be relived, but a sharp chord struck you within your heart; did he really not care you had thought your relationship with he was making progress or perhaps that was you fooling yourself into thinking someone could love such a creature as yourself.

Making your way to your bedroll and staring up at the pitch-black sky you knew you would not be getting any sleep; the thoughts in your head of today’s events were ever buzzing about.

You were so engrossed in your thoughts you didn’t hear the pattering of talons upon the dirt coming closer to you.

“You called for me, Milady?”

You sat up hastily. Gods, what did he want you to do now, or what exactly were his intentions of coming to you in the middle of your camp?

“What is it now? If this is about killing the cleric, you can forget it. I already gave you my answer; I refuse to be part of such a massacre, you said with a hushed whisper.”

“Your father was most displeased with this kind of outcome, Milady, dear Master; I want only the best for you; you always did need a little push of encouragement with those urges you get; allow me to give you a hand in this, please,” he pleased.

“I don’t need any push or anything from this so-called father I have never met before!”

You wanted him to leave before anyone could overhear you two, and you would have to explain another thing to the group.

“Now, don’t be this way; your father does love you, miss, how he doted on you so tenderly when you were but a babe, and because of this, he is allowing yet another chance for you to redeem such an egregious display you have made of yourself.

Your hands begin to feel clammy and freezing; the building anxiety takes hold of your body and starts to stir. What is that will do? More importantly, is this something that harms others?

You catch the glint of silver with little red specks encircling something within his clawed hand. It looks to be a coin?

“Here is the deal, master: if this coin falls upon heads, your favorite person will be brutalized! This normally would have been your punishment and a token to your father and would allow this minor transgression with the cleric to be overlooked. If it lands upon tails… no, you know what, master? I shall let you find out personally what awaits you; this will be my little push to steer you in the correct direction for you to grab your inheritance.

A flash of anger flared up within you. “No, what is the second choice tell me now!” Panic filled you as if the first choice was not bad enough; something worse awaited you, leaving you in the dark.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Milady. Be patient here; I’ll toss this coin, and we shall see what fate has in store for you.”

With the flick of his finger, the coin spun in the air. The fear and anxiety that you felt waiting on this damn coin to fall, you tried to make a plan of some sort on how to deal with the said potential of having to kill either Astarion, your lover, or dear friend Shadowheart.

“Oh, master! You are Truly cursed with the most delicious tragedy.”

Your eyes widened, and your heart sped up. Gods, what side did the coin land on? Were you fated to kill your sweet love?

“Now, Milady, stay still. I don’t want to miss.” Scelerita’s hands began to glow red, even his eyes;

Beneath your feet, a red glow, a red circle outlined with what seemed to be blood drops arranged in a perfect circular motion on the outermost circle were some ancient ruins, ones that looked familiar, but you had no time to possibly read them before you felt the excruciating pain of your bones breaking in multiple places, your joints snapping, stretching, your skin being pulled into various directions to cover long new limbs you seemed to be growing, Gods it HURT,

Two additional arms shoot out from your sides. Each hand is morphed into sharp, long, talon-like claws. You feel the sharp spikes and horns poke and prick your entire body, from your head, arms, and legs to the tip of your now-said tail. Great long horns jut out from your now spikey head, and you feel something dripping. It seems to be slick blood from your former form. It’s a miracle you think to yourself that you are not dead from blood loss or, at the very least, shock from the horror show that you are becoming.

But honestly, the worst part of this horrid transformation is the one relating directly to your mouth: two large tusk-like horns protrude out from your would-be former jaw that now splits into somehow four splits of skin that are all surrounded and arranged by pointed and thorny teeth that could shred something or someone within seconds.

“Oh, my Master, you truly are a sight to behold; how I missed this form of yours so dearly! Such a strapping young behemoth.”

You attempt to scream for help from your companions; however, it quickly becomes apparent that you cannot speak within this grotesque form. What were you to do now that you were transformed into a monster?

“Master, this will surely be something you can finally make your father proud of! I can see in your eyes that you are waiting for an explanation of what you are meant to do with this new, beautiful form; allow me to get this started. "

Your now small demon butler has waved his hand and conjured up an illusion of self-disguise into a near-perfect replicate of Gale?! He then opens his mouth, and much to your horror, what he screams out next in a voice. That sounds exactly like him.

“What is that monstrosity?! Everyone! Wake up! There is an abominable monster readying to attack the camp, and they have our leader!” screams the illusion-like Gale.

Your heart begins to plummet into the pit of your stomach, and you quickly understand what this sick lesson is meant to teach you. Your father expects nothing to stand in his way. It does not matter if they are the ones that can help you reach the Baldur’s gate. If they are holding you back from your “gift,” then they must be dealt with, and what a perfectly twisted way for them to be under the guise that this monster has taken their precious leader and must kill it.

You can only watch in horror as you look out to see the flames in camp start lighting up and the yelling and harsh footfalls quickly approaching your location. In the distance, you hear Karlach’s battle cry and the others gathering their weapons.

You swiftly turn your head to see your butler’s face, only for him to give you a sick and cruel smile on your friend’s face. “Have fun, milady, your father, and I wish to see some excellent results from the child of Bhaal.”

And then he is gone, leaving only behind thick smoke and the damn coin laying tails side up.

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godkeis · 2 years

Text

𝟏𝟎:��𝟐 𝐏𝐌.

pairing: suna rintaro x f!reader

genre: fluff

word count: around 500

content warnings: slight making out

summary: after spending time away from each other for a quiet long time due to work, suna realized something.

author's note: since i'm not free from my laboratory classes yet, enjoy this short and sweet drabble for the mean time 🫶🏻

“You sure you’re not cold?” Suna wrapped the wool blanket around your shoulders, enveloping the piece of clothing in your whole body.

“Mhm. I’m fine Rin, how about you?” You glanced at your boyfriend whose gaze was fixed on you as he tries to make sure that the blanket was covering your entire upper body. That action alone made your body warm in heat, as you felt your insides melting on his simple action,

“Yup, all good here.” He assured but failed to hide how his breathing was getting shaky due to the coldness of the night breeze. Stubborn Rintaro, you thought.

Opening your arms, you patted your chest to signal him to come closer to you. Suna’s forehead formed a crease as he was trying to understand what you were trying to imply but he finally got it when he moved closer to you, leaning at the warm flesh of your body.

“You’re so warm,” he murmured beneath, sniffing your neck that made you giggle because his breath was tickling your skin.

You and Suna, your boyfriend of 8 years, were so busy these days due to your different lines of work and as well as some adulting things that the both of you had to fulfill. It was indeed very hard to find time with each other and most of the time, your schedule was conflicted. Despite those, both of you still try to find ways to be with each other such as updating and doing video chats but still, it was hard.

There were days when you felt empty and you just wanted to hug Suna but couldn’t. There were always times when Suna just wanted to pepper you with kisses and do things with you but again, couldn’t. That’s why tonight, when your schedule finally met an end, Suna did not hesitate to grab this chance to be with you.

“God, I missed you so much.” Suna breathed out in your neck as his hands made their way to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You felt the desperation in his voice, making your heart ache because you felt the same.

“I missed you so much too, Rintaro.” Grabbing his chin, you pulled his head up to lean for a soft, warm kiss that later turned into a more passionate and heated one.

Parting away from each other’s lips, you were panting because it has been a while since your last kissed your boyfriend this passionately. Seeing how your face was illuminating in blush despite the dark skies, Suna chuckled at how beautiful his view is.

“Tell me something new.” going back to his comfortable position just right above your vital organ, Suna closed his eyes and flattened his eyes to hear how your heart beat.

“I recently figured out that I like taking cold showers right before I go to sleep.”

Suna smiled at your random new discovery about yourself. He nodded, urging you to talk more about it. With his eyelids closed, your mellow voice echoing as you talk about something that piques your interest and your heart beating calmly, rhyming with his, Suna realized he felt so much better with you. Despite being together for a long time, he still craves for you. He still long for you. You are his one and only rest in this tiring world. One of the many things that pushes him to become a better person and the only person he wanted to share his surname with. At ten o'clock, Suna realized that you're the only one who can make him feel like he's at ease and home.

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lovejosephquinn · 10 months

Text

Authors Note: Last part! Loved writing this series and having Wes as the peacemaker, I think we'd all agree he fits the role! Thanks to everyone who's read it 🥰 Feel free to like and reblog if you have enjoyed!

Summary: Joe and reader have never seen eye to eye, growing up together and even further along the line in adulthood. There’s always been something lurking in the back of their minds. It couldn’t be, they share a mutual hatred and can’t stand the sight of one another. Surely, it’s been a long time coming but will the tension finally break into something more beautiful? Time tells all truths.

Under 18's DNI. Warnings: Fear of being hurt, anxiety, smut. A happy ending? Word Count: 4.1k

Taglist: @eddiemunson-mylove @daleyeahson @ali-r3n @quinnypixie @thefemininemystiquee @winchester-angel @ayooooo0 @wonderheartz @avobabe87 @palomahasenteredthechat @chickennug90 @emma77645 @pepsimunson @figmentofquinn @ches-86 @sugarheart-riot @shawnamae87 @joeqnz @etherealglimmer @birdysaturne @freakymunson @aol19 @coley0823 @lma1986 @eddiesgirls12 @poisonedluv @aysheashea @credulouskhaleesi @xlilithb @tlclick73 @siriuslysmoking @miserybeans @haylaansmi

Part 1 ✨ Part 2 ✨ Part 3 ✨ Part 4

No dreams were to be had tonight, not the one's that you had been experiencing previously, only reliving the nightmare of Joe's final words to you hours before. Maybe it had something to do with the fact only a little bit ago your reoccurring fantasies had come true, maybe not in the circumstances you had hoped for, but in the same breath, it had still happened.

You couldn't turn back time like you could in the movies you had seen, this was real life. You mostly, but you both had experienced the physical yet exciting torture that was pretty much known as a hate fuck. Simply taking out your anger in the form of sexual intercourse, at least that's what you imagined that's what Joe saw it as. Maybe you would have once upon a time, but everything had changed as soon as you moved into this cursed flat, a plague that has been brought upon you to crush on the enemy of your entire lifetime.

'No you don't. I assure you, I'm far from hated.'

The look he gave you was something that you had never quite seen before, a look of reassurance even still, the insane look of toxicity, the poison he radiated from those soft doe brown eyes seeped straight through into your soul, making it's way down and contaminating every dose of blood, running through your veins until it reached your vital organs. You were well and truly fucking on your knees for this man, especially after the unregretful better yet forbidden act you had pursued between one another.

Constant questions where looming around your mind in a repetitive motion:

Why would he have come to you if he wasn't so bothered? Why on earth did he look bothered about you talking to Dan? Why would he touch you physically if he had no definite interest? Why did he pursue the first initial move that got you to where you were at, at this moment in time? Why were you so deep in thought about someone you're supposed to have a heavy dislike for yourself?

You were severely deluded. You liked him. You liked him a lot and it wasn't an easy thing to be able to hide anymore. Of course, it was most definitely confirmed that Joe knew exactly what you had done, the stupid and most idiotic move of when Wesley had caught you with your ear pressed against their flat door, listening with utter jealousy to Joe and the random bimbo, if that hadn't of happened then this certainly wouldn't of gone as far as what occurred tonight, neither would Joe know of your not so hatred emotion toward him.

You had zero sleep, tossing and turning was just not the way to go and didn't seem so fun after hours of doing it, the sun was already rising so it didn't necessarily matter if you stayed in bed a moment longer; your brain wasn't to shut off any time soon. You sluggishly left your bed, your duvet a heap in the middle of it and dragged yourself into the shower. Flashbacks of the night before still feeling very prominent and very real making you feel like the heat of the warm water could make you throw up at any given moment.

You had a sudden craving for French pastries and fresh coffee and decided to make your way over to the little café around the corner from your complex, anything to make the start of your day that little bit more bearable. Your hair was tied back in an up do, your comfy clothes were adorned because you purely could not be bothered to make an effort at this point in time. Since the sun was already shining down on the bright and lovely looking morning, you walked the distance to cure your second craving within the last 24 hours, at least one had already been partially cured; Joe.

You scanned around watching the people going about their day whilst waiting for your name to be called out to be handed your order, pondering on the thought if there's was starting as merely hideous as yours felt. It was soon stopped by a pair of eyes literally burning into the back of your head, it was like a sixth sense that made your body feel cold and you wasn't entirely sure as to why the emotion overcame you and you felt it so suddenly. Slowly turning your head, you were met with a familiar stare, not one you would usually take the time out to look at completely, but you knew it all the same.

"Oh hey." He muttered.

Wesley.

"Hi. What are you-" you paused, too tired to even think before you spoke out loud. "What are you doing here?" You had never sounded more dumb than you did right now.

"The same reason you are probably." You both laughed awkwardly. You wanted so badly to back up to the nearest wall and throttle him for telling Joe about the stupid move you made, but then it dawned upon you; what if Joe had now told Wesley about your little encounter last night?

"Oh yeah cool." You both nodded towards each other fumblingly giving that brief smile that Brits tend to do when they have nothing left to say to one another.

You turned away from him, aimlessly staring at the staff behind the counter, silently begging for them to call your name before Wesley could bring up a new conversation starter.

"So you and Joe last night?"

There it was.

You turned back around like a rabbit in headlights, your jaw dropping as you stuttered to find a response worthy. "What about it?" You had to know what he knew.

"Well I couldn't get much out of old Joey boy, so I thought I'd ask you in hopes that you would tell me what happened."

He doesn't know.

"We talked." You lied through your teeth, of course detective Stokes-Mellor did not believe you.

"Did you mistake the word talking for shagging?" He chortled a loud bellow straight from the pit of his stomach.

"We-" You tried to stop him there but failed.

"Do you like him? You've just- you've always been really cold to him, even at school all of those years ago and it seems both of you have a lot of sexual tension and don't really need to talk, you just needed to attack each other in that way and that's why I figured you know, you didn't really talk."

Bastard.

"A one time thing that won't happen again." You smiled a half assed smile and shrugged your shoulders.

"What because you don't want it to?" He offered you to give him a straight answer but you were not willing to give him it in fear that it would inevitably be told straight back to 'old Joey boy'.

"Because WE don't want it to." You hissed.

Your name was called by the server and not a minute sooner, you rushed out of Wesley's presence and straight over to the counter to grab your food and coffee. As you moved to turn back around, you were startled once more by the one person you were trying to avoid that wasn't Joe at this particular time. "Between you and me, I reckon Joe would want it to happen again." Wesley shot an adorable wink at you. "Just food for thought." You removed yourself from the situation, almost jogging out of the café as quick as your feet would take you. You almost didn't feel that hungry anymore after what he had just said. Did Joe actually like you or was Wesley just teasing you? As if you needed anymore information for your brain to digest and process than you already did.

You had avoided the sights of the two boys from across the hallway for the majority of the day, it was possibly because you had basically locked yourself in your sweet sanctuary where nobody could bother you. You had done the same chores at least three times over just to put your mind at some subtle form of rest, it wasn't enough. Joe was still at the forefront of your head one way or another, you honestly felt like bashing your head against a brick wall as that felt like the only way it would be rid of him.

You were too focussed on the task ahead when your foot slipped upon something on the floor, you steadied yourself and swerved around to see what could of possibly hindered your focal point. A piece of paper crinkled slightly folded in two places laid abandoned on the floor, you weren't sure if you had ever seen it before or had even written anything down since you had moved in here so you could only assume at first that it was from a box you had unpacked recently. Leaning down to pick it up, it was unknown, rather messy handwriting that you had to tilt your head slightly to read the italic font straight.

'Out of the blue I know, probably weird to but meet me at the field just after the round about and by the playground by 8pm. We need to talk. Hopefully you'll show and I know it's a weird place to do it, but we'll have privacy. I've just got some things to say.'

Your first thought was Joe, but why the hell would it be? Your second thought was Dan. After ridding him of your company after bringing him back to your flat last night and completely ghosting him it made sense for it to be him; you weren't entirely sure as to why he would want to meet in a deserted field though? You were intrigued and decided you had nothing to lose anyway.

Checking your phone, the time was 7:25pm. Shit. Time had certainly ran away from you today, you clearly had done a number in keeping yourself busy. Making yourself look a little more presentable for the evening you were severely unprepared for, you sighed taking a look at yourself in the mirror. Leaving your flat, you made the choice to knock at Dan's door to see if it was really him. No answer. Ok so it definitely had to be him.

You made your way to where the note said, clinging it in your hand as you drove over, scared but attracted to parking up in the darkness to look out into said meeting point; like a scene out of a horror film to be exact. You slammed the door of your car, wandering past the gate and toward the playground. Your arms were folded and the note was pressed to your chest, a slight beam of light which you quickly found to be a torch a top a little picnic blanket, with no food to match the aesthetic. You sat on it cross legged, alone and confused at where Dan could possibly be. Moving your head quickly around to view each corner of the field, there was no sign of life. Only the car that parked up next to yours where you could see the headlights in the distance appear and then shut off when the ignition turned off.

8:05pm. Late. Wonderful.

You stood up, gripping at the torch as you placed it on the figure that walked through the gate. Oh fucking hell. No. No. No. NO. "You sent me the note?" You shouted over, the figure growing ever closer.

"I should be asking you the same thing!" Joe. This wasn't happening. What? Where? When? Why? HOW?!

Joe continued to walk the small distance toward you, looking down to your feet at the blanket laid over the now flattened grass and halted just before you.

"You wanted to talk?" Joe said quietly, raising his hand in mid air.

"No. You wanted to talk..." You shoved the note into Joe's hand where you put the torch to offer him light. He looked up to you slightly bemused.

"That prick." Joe said.

"What?" You scowled.

"Wes. He's a fucking dick. I know that writing anywhere."

The penny dropped for you. It all made sense that it was him. After the encounter in the café this morning, you should of put two and two together straight away after picking up the note back at your flat.

"Didn't you recognise his writing from your note?"

Joe shook his head. "Nope, he obviously changed it because he knew I would know it was him and then obviously wouldn't show up."

"So you wouldn't of shown?" You looked down at your feet, feeling rather nervous.

"I-" Joe stammered. "I would have."

"But did you think it would be me?" You were still shining the torch in his direction and from your view it looked like the poor man was being interrogated by a professional FBI agent.

"I wasn't certain, but I hoped."

You were baffled. What does he mean he had hoped it was you?

He knocked the thought right out of you. "I mean if it was you then I knew it wouldn't be some complete psycho I'd had a one night stand with."

You were someone he had a one night stand with.

"Right, I got you."

"I'm going to ask you one last time and I want you to answer me. No going around it, no avoiding it. Just tell me yes or no." Joe moved to sit on the blanket, patting down for you to join him. He was unusually calm for someone who was fucking you so angrily just yesterday. You sat to the side of him, putting your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. "Do you want to know me?"

You remained quiet, the only sound was the rustle from the trees as the evening breeze ran cold through them. Joe pushed a hand straight to the cheek that wasn't nearest to him, forcing you to look at him "Answer me."

You stared into the almost angelic eyes that you once detested, fearing the response you would get when you told him the truth. "Y/N, just fucking-"

"Yes." You shut him up, his mouth gawked open but no words came out; now he was the one who was speechless, you decided to break the silence and just get it all out in the open, it was now or never.

"Yes I want to know you. I never thought I would and I told you I hated you- maybe once upon a time I did. No reason why, it was just you I couldn't stand, but everything changed once I moved into that stupid flat. Did I do something wrong in a previous life to have to think about you in this way? Possibly. But I can't help it and it pisses me off that I have to."

Not the response you were expecting, but within a millisecond, Joe pushed himself onto you, kissing you like he wouldn't get another chance. You gratefully accepted quickly what was happening and moved into an easier position to be able to continue the passion that was unfolding between you. It was less fiery this time and more meaningful, or so it seemed. Your tongues danced together, Joe pushed his weight down on you so you lowered yourself down onto the blanket, him towering over you, one arm supporting himself and the other on you, his hand cupping at your jaw.

The torch had rolled out of your bodies view and the only light now was the stars in the clear night sky that twinkled above you, adding to the all to romantic setting around you. Wesley may have set you both up, but it was clear he knew it was to conquer together and not to fail and it was out of the goodness of his own heart that he remained the peacemaker and said hero to finally help you put your differences aside; whatever they were in the first place.

Joe broke the kiss, leaning up as he felt down your body. "I never hated you and I'm not sure and will never probably know why you hated me, but whatever is happening right now; I know it's the best decision I've made in a while." That was the sweetest thing you had ever heard him say. It changed your whole opinion on the man himself, you just smiled, leaning up to gain the contact you had sorely missed for the last 60 seconds.

His hand slipped between the elastic of your trousers, your hand came shooting down to stop him in his tracks immediately. The kiss broke again and brought a confused look from Joe that you could only muster from the little bit of light you had. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. On your back, let me thank you for what you did last night." Joe furrowed his brows at you but a little smirk instantaneously appeared on his face when he realised what you wanted to do. He obeyed and laid down next to you as you sat up, undoing the button and zipper on his jeans, with a little help of him arching his hips up to take them down, his cock already fully erect from the stimulation of the canoodling which had taken place.

You proceeded downward, looking back up at his face who was watching your every move. You took a hold of the base of his cock, standing it up right to your attention as you felt it twitch slightly in your grasp. You took a slurp of his tip, hearing the sound of the relieved groan exiting his lips. You continued to tease, taking the tip of your tongue and circling around the end of his length making his fists grip onto the blanket below you. "Oh fuck." Joe whispered.

You took a few more inches into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down as the saliva added to help ease your pace. Your lips were met by your fist not long after and as you let go, you felt it touching the back of your throat, tapping at your tonsils making you choke a little, sharp breathes where being heaved out by Joe as he was trying his best not to cum from the over sensitive motion he was currently taking. "Ugh, take my cock. Take it all." A clear as day moan escaped him and you had never heard a more beautiful sound, so much so that you felt your own core aching from the sweet noise.

Bringing yourself up slowly, you pushed your head down again, this time taking your hand to massages his balls as you deep throated him once more. "Darling, darling stop or I'll-" His breath hitched as you squeezed a little tighter against his sack. "Shit, babe. Stop." Joe leaned up to gravitate his hands towards your head, yanking you upward to stop your actions before they met their consequence.

You stood up with a rather pleased look on your face, removing your own clothing before attempting to place yourself on top of Joe, not being able to even get down onto your knees before being toppled to the side, what almost could be described as a wrestling move. Joe caged himself around you, kissing you desperately before spitting onto his hand and rubbing the substance down between your slit.

"This feels..." You whimpered. "Different."

"It does." Joe agreed indefinitely, he clearly understood what you meant. "Not like before." He cooed.

Joe pushed his cock through your entrance, making direct eye contact as he did. It was beautiful. Not wasting any time, he began to thrust his hips back and fourth, making you both a pair of mewling messes. Even the sex felt different, less angry and more sensual. You moved your hand down to rub at your aching clit, Joe's eyes flinging downward to watch you play with yourself in front of him.

"You're so..." Joe purred. "Beautiful."

"As are you." You managed to respond, not being able to muster another word from the way his cock was beginning to pound into you, touching every sweet spot that was sure to send you over the edge quickly. You had been critically down for him for the last few days so it only made sense that you met your end quickly. You began rolling your hips creating an intense motion that pushed him deeper inside of you, the band snapped in your stomach as you messily moved against your bud. "I'm gonna-" you cried out.

"Me too. Holy fuck." Joe shot his load inside of you with one big bellow, you chanted his name over and over again until you had both ridden out your orgasms. He pulled out of you, using the corner of the blanket to clean up what was leaking out of you, shortly after handing you your trousers to make yourself look a little less vulnerable and not like you had just been fucked in the middle of a dark field.

Joining each other, laying side by side on the ground, you were both on your backs facing upwards gazing at the stars above you. You felt Joe's hand cover yours between you, your hand coming to quickly move to hold his.

"Who knew." Joe muttered. You both let out a laugh so sickeningly sweet.

"Wesley apparently." Joe nodded a silent agreeance.

You laid there a little longer, basking in the silence and enjoying the company you shared together before getting up to find the torch to locate the closest bin to rid of the blanket that was pretty much unusable now before heading back to your cars.

"I guess I'll see you in a minute." Joe opened his door.

"You will indeed." You smiled, turning on the ignition immediately and backing out onto the road first. No more than a few minutes later you were parking back up at the complex, you couldn't believe how much time had passed. 11:15pm. The time and the sheer risk had been well worth it the hassle.

Joe pulled up shortly after you, getting out of your cars and locking them behind you, he put his arm around your shoulder as you walked back together to the entrance. Joking and chuckling about something completely random as you came down the corridor to your homes, his front door swung open immediately. Wesley's face poked out from the side, his eyes wide as he heard the sound of happiness rather than the alternative.

"There he is." Joe spoke out.

"Am I in your good books or do I need to sleep outside tonight?" Wesley sniggered, coming out of the doorway fully, eyeing up the two of you in close proximity of each other.

"I can't quite believe you set us up, my own best mate but-" You interrupted Joe before he could attempt to insult him.

"But we are eternally grateful." You smiled back at Wesley.

Wesley nodded, silently patting his shoulder in congratulations for the work he had put into this with a perfect result. "About time." Wesley uttered to both of you. "I'll sleep soundly knowing you two aren't at each others throats anymore. Unless you're planning on coming in here together that is." His face dropped at the thought of the thin walls between his and Joe's bedrooms.

"Nah, I'm staying at Y/N's. Sweet dreams pal." Joe stuck out his hand to shake Wesley's hand. A quick muted thank you was mouthed from Joe to his best friend in pure appreciation. Just as you entered through the front door, Joe stopped in his tracks calling out his name. "Oh and mate, I'm hoping that you were not wanting that blanket back, it'll be incinerated by tomorrow."

Wesley sarcastically scowled, before shutting their front door behind him, the laughter that escaped him becoming quieter as he walked away from it.

Joe shut your door, holding out his hands to find yours as you took a huge sigh.

"Tell me that you hate me now." Joe winked.

"I hate-" You paused, watching his face panic as your voice said it in such a sharp tone. Bursting out into laughter, Joe picked you up and hoisted you over his shoulder. "That's what I thought." He patted his hand over your ass, giving it a quick squat before joining you in the laughter. It couldn't have made tomorrow start better than having him to wake up next to you.

Finally.

#joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn angst #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn fan fiction #joseph quinn x reader

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autolenaphilia · 1 year

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I'm happy the transunity blog is mostly dead or inactive. Because it and the theory it peddled was terrible.

Unity in this context was essentially a demand for ideological conformity. And that was to avoid critical scrutiny for the ideology it peddled. A large part of its argument was that all trans people experience misandry, even trans women because we are called men sometimes, and that's why we should feel solidarity with each other. The problem is that misandry is not real, i criticized the transunity blog post about it here. If it was real, cis men would be affected

And the very concept is anti-feminist, as it makes it impossible to talk about patriarchy and male privilege if men somehow experience oppression due to their gender, something I discussed previously here. Trans men experience oppression, but it's due to transphobia and not because men as a class are oppressed. We live in a patriarchy which means men are actually privileged for being men. And claiming transfems experiences of oppression is due to misandry is in itself transmisogyny and misgendering. It is a way of counting transfems as part of the class of men, but instead of arguing we thus have male privilege as terfs do, it makes an outright antifeminist argument that it makes us oppressed.

It's in itself a very offensive argument to transfems, and thus a shitty basis for trans community solidarity. Yet any criticisms transfems had of "transunitism" were seen by proponents as divisive, as undermining solidarity between trans people. The call for "unity" and "solidarity" (entirely divorced from real world organizing and activism too) became a way of dismissing any critical thought. The rhetoric made disagreeing with a transmisogynistic and outright anti-transfeminist ideology cobbled together online an act of community treason. The dismissing of criticism as "divisive" is of course an old one, used by men against all feminists for ages, and against antiracism and disbility rights activism as well. It presumes some kind of pre-existing unity and homogeneity that the critical thinker and activist is disrupting unnecessarily. It's a denial of the differences and divisons that already exist. As Umberto Eco said,"The critical spirit makes distinctions."

I do believe in trans solidarity. And you don't need to make up some new form of theory or analysis to justify such solidarity. It's called transphobia theory. All trans people have a shared interest in fighting transphobia. It's a shared oppression.

For example, the majority of us suffer from denial of healthcare. Many US states are moving towards banning it all together, especially for those under 18, but it's expanding into bans on adult care as well.. The ban on under 18 trans people is also the case in Sweden where I live, and for adults it's gatekept in a way that leads to years-long waiting times.

It's not exactly equal, some trans people don't feel a need for medical transition, and there are meaningful class differences. Wealthier trans people can pay their past medical gatekeeping, and afford procedures other trans people can't. Or access can depend on luck or circumstance in other ways. In Sweden, waiting times are actually growing longer, so someone who applies now will wait longer than those who applied earlier. We shouldn't deny these differences in access.

Yet fighting for healthcare access is a vital goal we can work together for, across many of our differences. My right to bodily autonomy and to transition as a transfem is fundamentally the same as the right for transmascs to bodily autonomy and transition. This means we can cooperate in the struggle for bodily autonomy and healthcare access, because we share an experience of oppression and we all serve to gain from it.

And that same analysis is valid for many struggles against transphobia. We have a shared right as trans people to not be discriminated against and recognized as the gender we are, so we can work together against transphobic discrimination.

We have to recognize the meaningful differences that exist in our community, such as those based on class differences, race, and being TME/TMA. It's not divisive to do so, because those divisions already exist, and fighting against oppression is the only way to end differences in privilege. Denying them only makes divisions worse. And there is no need for acknowledging these differences and fighting oppression within our community to hold back community solidarity in the struggle against transphobia.

#my writings #transunity #transphobia #transmisogyny

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lets-try-some-writing · 10 months

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The Grim Dark Archives: Statement #002 Symbiote

[Statement taken from [Redacted] on the 5th of September 2004, one year and a month after the Autobots have made their presence known and begun corresponding with human personnel. So far there have been no issues with [Redacted]'s presence in [Redacted: Classified information] aside from their occasional bouts of paranoia.

[Redacted] has proven useful in compiling information and cataloging data for government agents when not having their statements taken. There has been little for us to ask them as we have been processing their prior statement and doing our best to apply what useable information came with it. However the Autobots recently requested access to high caliber machinery and vehicles. They claim it is so that they can scan the vehicles in question and take on their form as they have already shown possible with their acquisition of alternate modes in the form of civilian transports.

This request caused some concern amongst high command, and so to gain greater insight before we offer a response, [Redacted] was asked to explain in greater detail the process by which Cybertronians take on their vehicular modes and what it entails. As usual, their statement is concerning but fascinating.

Statement begins.]

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Ah yes, our ability to adapt yet again rears its helm, or I suppose head would be the proper term for you organics... Whatever the case, it is a fascinating subject. Compared to the mental adaptation we Cybertronians undergo when associating with a new race, our physical adaptations are less... prominent. Well, at least to you organics.

We didn't always have T-cogs you know. In the very beginning, when the first of us were forged... we had no such ability. Only one of the original Thirteen possessed the ability to transform, and it was from his great gift we have the ability now. But of course, with all gifts from gods, there is a price attached to it.

Nothing is ever without consequence.

Are you confused yet? I suppose you would be. You don't even know who the Thirteen are do you? That is a story for another time. For now all you need to know is that the Thirteen are the minor deities that serve our creator, and each of them had gifts and powers, some of which have been granted to us. Enough of that though, I should get back on topic.

The T-cog is one of our most vital organs when it comes to surviving on other worlds. However it is not a natural part of our biology, at least not when we are first forged. The T-cog is a symbiote that we infuse into our beings. With that said, it is not an easy symbiote to obtain for all sorts of reasons. Aside from the plethora of medical complications that come from attempting to swap T-cogs or infuse a mech with a symbiote from one of the dead, T-cog symbiotes only come from the Well with the newly forged. A grown mech cannot go down to the Well in search of a new symbiote and hope to survive. The symbiotes down there would simply avoid or devour the mech in question, sucking them dry of power and serving no purpose without the vital co-dependent growth that our young and the symbiote undergo together.

Yes, yes I will explain the specifics of what the T-cog does in a moment. Do not rush me. The history is just as vital as the function.

Now, as I was saying, the symbiote attaches itself to a developing protoform long before the spark of it is fully connected. The symbiote leeches off the energy being used to grow the protoform and so to survive and continue feeding, it adapts. The immune systems of our young can sense an invader once the spark fully settles, so to avoid being destroyed, the symbiote changes to match our biology as much as it can. It reads our innate preference for adaptation and it shifts. It looks into the code of our newsparks and deep in the dark of our maker's frame it merges with the body of its host.

That concept must be terrifying to you humans, right? Such a leech would kill you, but for us? No, for us the T-cog is a blessing that comes with a few... downsides.

The T-cog constantly feeds off us in a steady drain. Thus to remain stable we consume energon more frequently as we age until our systems settle and the symbiote fully merges with our biology and receives energon as much as the rest of our frames. It can be rather painful during those early vorns as the symbiote settles and energon is siphoned from other organs. We always take great care to watch over our young during that time. While it is undesirable and quite possibly a death sentence, an overactive T-cog can and often is removed during this stage. If the mech is lucky, they may be able to acquire another due to their youth, but as a general rule, mecha who fail to bond to their T-cog are bipedal for life.

That whole bonding process takes up to ten vorns, roughly two to three hundred years for you little things. Once complete, the T-cog finally brings some benefits. The symbiote has no intelligence, but it has enough of a mind to be able to force our innate ability to adapt into overdrive. It merges with our already present minor transformation capabilities to grant us the ability to take on the vehicular mode of machines. Of course what we can transform into depends on the symbiote, how fully it integrated, and how large the mech in question is.

There is a great deal of biological lingo involved that I neither know or care for, so to put it simply, the T-cog attaches to our sensory and processing systems. It gains a certain degree of control and we gain the ability to take on the forms of other vehicles through mass displacement and simple reformatting. By the time the symbiote settles there aren't usually any issues, but if damaged it can begin acting strangely. There have been cases where removed T-cogs have been returned to their hosts only to then fail to allow the mech to replicate an alternate mode properly. Those situations... are often rather disgusting to see, even for our kind.

The forms those poor mecha bear due to the damage sustained to their symbiotes... it is safe to say they often forgo transformation unless required, hoping and praying that it fixes itself.

To conclude this statement, I would guess that the Autobots are asking for higher caliber vehicles simply so that they need not waste energy obtaining more alternate modes. It consumes a great deal of energy and the symbiotes are more likely to... cause great bodily distress if pushed too far with too many new alternate modes. I personally wouldn't worry too much about it. Alternate modes are merely our way of blending in, at least on a backwater world like yours. If your technology was more worthy of note, I would say hide your vehicles, but as it is, my kin are more dangerous in their root modes than in their alt.

══════════════════'

[Statement ends.

It was rather concerning how calm [Redacted] was when giving their statement compared to their prior experience. It seems that [Redacted] is most comfortable discussing topics of old history and biology and panics when asked to answer questions relating to more recent history or events.

This information is useful, but it does raise a few concerning questions.

How often have these aliens altered their forms and biology? What even are they at their core? Its obvious by interacting with [Redacted] that not all Cybertronians are as [Redacted] claims, but that makes me wonder... Do these aliens even know what they are? Or has it all been lost with time, war, and constant adaptation?

Whatever the case, it is currently irrelevant. [Redacted] will reveal more with time, and eventually I am sure these questions will answer themselves.

Agent Witwicky signing off.

Recording ends.]

#maccadam #transformers #transformers prime #the grim dark archives #statement recording #[redacted]#agent witwicky #alternate universe #rewrite of canon #cybertronian biology #grimdark #mystery #I had way too much fun writing this #Its so fun messing around with concepts to make my fav robots creepy #at this point I don't even care if you lot like my work #this is too fun and an excellent writing challenge

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usafphantom2 · 3 months

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IMAGES: U.S. Navy and Air Force recreate iconic scene from the 1970s

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 01/13/2024 - 21:39in Military

The U.S. Navy and Air Force recently recreated a famous photo from the 1970s to highlight the national asset that is the R-2508 test field in Southern California.

The photo, which shows a Navy F-4J Phantom from the then Four Air Assessment and Test Squadron (VX-4) based on Point Mugu in formation with one of the legendary SR-71 Blackbirds flying more than Mach 3 from the USAF Air Base in Beale, was originally staged to put these two black birds together in the test range of the R-2508.

The famous photo of the F-4J "Vandy 1" flying in formation with an SR-71 in 1972. (Photo: U.S. Navy)

Referred to as "R-2508 Complex", the range extends over more than 51,700 square kilometers of special-purpose airspace, covering parts of Fresno, Inyo, Kern, Los Angeles, San Bernardino and Tulare counties. Most of the Complex is above other federally owned lands, including national parks, national forests and Bureau of Land Management (BLM) properties.

Airspace is a vital national good, crucial for the testing and development of aircraft, spacecraft and other advanced technologies, fundamental to national security. It is the largest land area of special-use airspace in the U.S., established during the height of the Cold War in 1955 as a controlled space to operate experimental aircraft and other military aircraft in tests and operational evaluations.

Most of America's world-famous "X planes" flew and were developed here. They still occupy their skies today. The area is administered and used by the China Lake Naval Air Weapons Station, the National Army Training Center in Fort Irwin and the Air Force Test Center at Edwards Air Base, all in California.

Recently, the Air Test and Evaluation Squadron 9 (VX-9), successor to the VX-4, organized a photographic flight session to celebrate the formation seen above. In doing so, it draws attention to the legacy of military aerospace testing in Southern California, to almost 70 years of multi-service cooperation in testing and evaluation, and to the value of R-2508, which is threatened by the invasion.

Well above the test range, a VX-9 F/A-18F Super Hornet encountered a U-2 Dragon Lady operated by the U.S. Air Force Life Cycle Management Center support center at Plant 42, part of the 412ª Test Wing at Edwards Air Base.

The aircraft, a contemporary of the SR-71 that remains active and the other that represents the heart of the U.S. Navy's fighter fleet, formed after completing its own separate test missions, reminding us of what the U.S. is still able to do - if it still has the will.

The F-4J "Vandy-1" or "Black Bunny" makes a low passage at high speed with another F-4 Phantom.

The Super Hornet is coated with the glossy black painting scheme that became famous for the VX-4. In U.S. Navy circles, it is said that bright black paint was applied to a VX-4 Phantom in 1969 during night tests. The radio call sign of the VX-4 squadron was "Vanderbilt" or Vandy, for short. The squadron captain's jet was known as "Vandy-1" and it was this plane that carried the black scheme.

The famous F-4J Phantom II attributed to the VX-4 portrayed after employing a drag kick during landing after a flight demonstration on NAS Pt. Mugu, California, in 1974.

It also carried the logo of what was then an American institution - Playboy magazine. In 1969, Hugh Heffner's Playboy Enterprises bought a Douglas DC-9 commercial aircraft and converted it into a large executive jet with bright black paint and its renowned rabbit logo on the tail. It was capriciously called "Big Bunny".

Not long after, several sources claim that a photo of the Vandy-1 with the rabbit logo stamped on its vertical stabilizer began to circulate in October 1971. Wags referred to the black Phantom of the VX-4 as the "Black Bunny".

Playboy owner Hugh Heffner's DC-9 lands in London.

Playboy Enterprises is said to have sent a letter to the VX-4 warning the squad that the rabbit logo on the Vandy-1 was not approved and suggested a possible legal action. But Playboy astutely added that no action would be taken if the squad used a rabbit stencil provided by the company to reflect its world-renowned trademark art.

Whether it was enacted by Heffner or another executive of the company, it was a cunning move and, subsequently, the official stencils were sent to the U.S. Navy to match Playboy's design. The rabbit was also seen in the successor to the VX-4, Vandy-1, an F-14 Tomcat and, appropriately, in a USAF SR-71 dubbed "Rapid Rabbit" that was almost shot down over Hanoi in 1972.

The VX-4 F-14-Tomcat returns to Key West Naval Air Station NAS after intense dogfight training over the Atlantic Ocean during the Cope Snapper 2002 exercise.

An SR-71 also displayed the Playboy ringy logo. (Photo: Lockheed Martin via HABU.ORG)

The Playboy logo disappeared in the early 2000s, as American society became increasingly politically correct and, in today's indisputably toxic social climate, it cannot appear in the VX-9's Super Hornet "Vandy-1".

But the feeling of pride, friendship and loyalty suggested still exists in the military flight test community. As noted, the R-2508 is fundamental to the work carried out by the organizations that use it. However, the pressure from renewable energy lobbies and the frequency spectrum (telecommunications) can jeopardise the scope of the test, such as urban/suburban growth sustained by the political power of real estate developers.

Preserving the air and land space that the R-2508 Complex offers - its bombing fields, supersonic corridors, low-altitude and high-speed maneuver areas, radar interception areas and refueling areas - is simple common sense.

It is worth highlighting the recognition of its value by the U.S. Navy, exemplified by the test framework at the China Lake Naval Air Weapons Station and VX-9. The U.S. Air Force agrees and according to Chase Kohler, head of communications of the 412ª Test Wing in Edwards, the photo session offered "offered an excellent look to show the joint collaboration that is the R-2508 air space complex".

Hopefully, the Navy, the Air Force and the Army can continue to collaborate for many decades.

Source: Forbes

Tags: Military AviationF-4 PhantomF/A-18E/F Super HornetSR-71 BlackbirdU-2 Dragon LadyUSAF - United States Air Force / U.S. Air ForceUSN - United States Navy/U.S. Navy

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Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, he has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. He has works published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. He uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.