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obsessed-with-fake-men · 1 year ago

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After His Show

After seeing the band play a gig in the city, you ride back to town on Seb’s motorcycle. But, you get a little distracted along the way…

Sebastian xF!Reader, Sebastian xAFAB!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tw: nsfw, mdni, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of cigarettes, pet names, semi-public sex, oral male receiving

AN: This fic can be read as a follow up to Under His Desk or as a stand alone. I have been on the motorcycle thirst trap side of the internet lately and I thought that perfectly aligned with a fic idea. I have never ridden a motorcycle so if my descriptions are inaccurate, I’m sorry :)

Wc: 4400

It was another fall day and you had just finished a harvest which meant one thing - it was time to pop into Pierre’s for some more seeds. You head down the road that leads into town trying to decide if you want to focus on artichokes or if you have enough time left in the season to plant some fairy roses. You’re so lost doing the mental calculations that you would’ve run into Sam if he hadn’t grabbed you by the arms.

“Look where you’re going, farmer! You could’ve made a dent in me,” he jokes, squeezing your biceps. “No, but for real you’re strong right?”

“Uh yeah, I guess I am?” you shrug.

“Well, we could use an extra roadie for the Goblin Destroyer show tomorrow night if you’re free,” he says. “I know Seb would be really happy if you were there.” Sam winks at you.

You flush, forgetting that Sam knows you and Seb have been fooling around since he almost walked in on the two of you. If you’d only grabbed your bra before hiding under Seb’s desk this embarrassment could’ve been avoided.

“Yeah, sure I don’t have any plans for tomorrow,” you say. “It would be cool to see y’all at a real gig and not just rehearsals.”

“Sweet! Okay, we’re meeting at the bus stop at 4, see you there,” Sam calls as he heads for home.

The next day you finish your chores around the farm as quickly as you can. You may be a roadie tonight, but you’re a groupie at heart and you want to look the part. When you’re satisfied that you look somewhere between halfway decent and slightly hot, you head for the bus stop.

As you approach, you see Seb leaving. You try to catch his eye but it’s clear his head is elsewhere. When you get to the bus stop, Abigail whistles at you.

“Damn girl, you clean up nice,” she exclaims. You hadn’t really had a chance to dress up for a night out since you moved to Pelican Town a few months ago.

“Thanks,” you laugh. “You look great too, very punk rock.”

“Dude I wear this outfit literally all the time, but thanks,” she laughs.

You help load the rest of the equipment, looking around every now and then hoping to see Seb. By the time all of the gear is loaded, Sebastian still hasn’t appeared. You see Sam lingering by the doors to the bus.

“Hey Sam, is Seb… I mean I saw him heading to town when I got here and we’re about to leave,” you trail off.

“Oh yeah, he had to help his mom with something, he said he’ll meet us there,” Sam replies.

Disappointed, you board the bus behind Sam.

The ride to the venue goes by faster than you expected, and you spend the whole time laughing and joking with Sam and Abigail. Upon arrival you jump into your role as a roadie, unloading gear off the bus with the same focus you use to plant or harvest crops. When everything is set up, you head outside for a smoke break. You’ve always smoked off and on, but since hanging around Seb the habit has admittedly gotten a bit worse.

Searching your pockets for a lighter, you come up empty. You wish Seb was there, he always has one on him. As if in answer to your prayers you hear a motorcycle nearing. Looking up, you see Seb riding towards you. You had to focus to keep your mouth from falling open. Sure you’d seen him working on the bike and that was objectively hot, but seeing him ride up on it was another thing entirely. You weren’t sure if it was the confidence he rode with, but even with his face obscured by the helmet he looked sexy.

Seb pulled the bike up right next to you. He was surprised he parked straight because he had been looking only at you since he entered the lot. Seb knew you were going to be there tonight, but damn he didn’t know you were going to look this good all dressed up in black. He knows that it’s the traditional color crew wears, but he hopes you considered his reaction as you picked out your outfit - the thought makes him blush. Those tight black jeans seem to hug every curve and your top is cut just low enough to get his heart racing.

Sebastian pulls off his helmet and runs a hand through his dark hair.

“Need a light?” he asks, nodding toward the unlit cig in between your fingers.

“Yeah, your timing is perfect,” you say, as Seb dismounts the motorcycle and pulls a lighter from his pocket.

You lean forward, breathing in as he lights the tip of your cigarette.

“Sounds like you were missing me,” he teases, plucking the cig from your fingers to take a drag.

“Missing you or just your lighter, who’s to say,” you retort.

Seb offers the cig back to you, instead of taking it, you lean forward making eye contact as you take a drag while it’s still between his fingers, lips brushing his digits. Seb’s cock twitches at your brazen flirtation and he huffs out a laugh. Damn, you really know how to get him going.

Seb grabs your hand and pulls it up to his mouth. He kisses the inside of your wrist, causing you to draw in a ragged breath.

“Well I missed you, y/n…” he whispers against your wrist.

You can’t think beyond his admission and his breath dancing across your sensitive skin. It makes your heart race and you’re certain he can feel your pulse quicken under his soft touch.

“Are you sure you haven’t missed me too?” he teases, pulling your body flush with his. Seb’s other hand captures your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his - the cherry of your cig reflected in his blown-out pupils.

“You can tell me, baby,” he coos. “I know how to keep a secret.”

The back door to the venue opens with a bang.

“Yo Seb, you out here?” Sam’s voice calls. “It’s time for the final soundcheck!”

“Yeah man, I’ll be there in a minute,” Seb shouts back, not taking his eyes from yours.

Without warning, he pushes you back against the wall of the building, lips locking with yours, cigarette dropped forgotten on the pavement.

His hand travels to your waistband, fingers skillfully popping the button of your jeans.

“Seb what are you doing??” you hiss. “Someone will see us!”

“Not if I’m quick,” he promises with a wink.

Undoing your zipper, his long fingers find their way to your underwear. A moan escapes your lips as he brushes over the wet cloth barely covering your pussy. Seb is quick to capture the sound with his mouth.

When you quiet he whispers in your ear, “Can’t believe how wet you are for me already sweetheart.”

Gently he runs a finger through your folds under the fabric. You gasp, struggling to remain silent. Seb plunges the finger deep into your hole, covering your mouth with his other hand to keep you from crying out.

He pumps his finger into you a few times, just enough to make you ready to beg for more when he removes his digit from you, bringing it to his lips. Watching Seb suck your juice from his finger causes your walls to clench around nothing - you can’t get over how hot and bothered this man makes you.

“Don’t worry baby, I just wanted a taste. Let’s call it a good luck charm,” Seb chuckles. “C’mon, they’ll be wondering where we are.”

As Sebastian heads onstage for sound check you grab a drink from the bar and join the waiting crowd. You’re not in the first row but you don’t mind. Positioning yourself in front of the keyboard, you look around, shocked by the number of unfamiliar faces at the show. The second the lights go down and the band takes the stage, there’s a palpable shift in the energy. Sure you’d been to rehearsals and a couple of local shows, but seeing the guys and Abby on a stage in the city, they look like they belong up there.

Seb had played it cool in front of you, but as he walks onto the stage he can feel his hands begin to shake. Shit, this is the biggest crowd they’ve ever had. He can NOT fuck it up now. Positioning himself behind his keyboards, Seb blinks through the spotlights to the sea of faces. Well maybe not a sea, but it’s a decent-sized lake. As soon as his eyes adjust, he sees you. He’d recognize your smile and bright eyes anywhere. He’s always nervous for shows, but locking eyes with you, he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. You mouth “you got this” and blow him a kiss. God you’re so cute, he thinks, shaking his head to himself as his heart swells.

Abby starts the count-off with her drumsticks and muscle memory kicks in. Seb loses himself in the music as he always does. Forgetting he’s on a stage in front of a crowd of strangers, his fingers know just where to go. As the first set ends Seb slowly comes out of his daze, guided by Sam’s voice distantly addressing the crowd.

“We are Goblin Destroyers, thanks for coming out tonight!” Sam shouts as the crowd cheers. He introduces the band, and as you hear him say “...and on the keys we have Sebastian!” a huge cheer erupts from the audience. It’s a little too big of a cheer for your liking, and you can see Seb trying to hide his flushed face behind his dark fringe. You feel a sudden surge of jealousy and mentally kick yourself for not having marked Seb’s neck with your lips and teeth before the show. You’ll have to remember that next time.

The music starts back up and you surrender yourself to the sound. The bass thrums in your chest and your eyes are glued to Sebastian. You love watching him play. It’s as if all his worries melt away leaving just Seb and the music. It’s so hot to see him this way, totally raw - the mask he usually keeps up between himself and the world is replaced by a look of utter calm.

The only other time you’ve seen him like that is when he’s inside of you. Watching his fingers expertly fly across the keys sends a shiver down your spine as you remember where they were just an hour before. You try to keep your lust at bay and enjoy the show, but the only music you want to hear now are the sweet groans from Seb’s lips as he fucks you.

After a few more songs, the show is over and people begin filtering out of the venue. You head backstage to help pack up when a hand grabs your arm and pulls you into a dark corner. Just as you open your mouth to shout, Seb slots his lips between yours for a devastating kiss, full of tongue and teeth and the adrenaline high he still has from the gig. You pull back for breath and punch him in the arm.

“Ow, what was that for?” he asks rubbing where you struck him.

“For making me think I was getting kidnapped,” you laugh, putting your hands around his neck. Leaning up, you whisper into his ear, “You looked really hot up there,” and you take his lobe between your teeth. Seb lets out a soft groan and cups your ass in his hands.

“Ahem,” Abigail clears her throat.

The two of you freeze, debating whether it’s too late to pretend you were doing something, anything more innocent than what she’s seen.

“Oh my god, chill out you two,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I know you’re fucking, Sam called me as soon as he left your little sex pad.”

You burst out laughing and Seb says, “Ew, Abs don’t call my room a ‘sex pad’.”

“Whatever, will y’all just help pack up the gear?”

You turn to leave, but Seb pulls you in for another quick kiss.

“If everyone knows, I might as well show you off,” he says with a wink before walking away.

Packing up is quick work and before you know it everyone is piling into the bus.

“You want the same spot?” Abigail asks.

“Oh um actually Seb said he’d give me a ride back….” you say.

“Ah, I get it. You two drive safe and use protection,” She says, closing the last door on the equipment storage.

You flush and stammer, “wha- we won’t uh-”

“Oh my god wear a helmet, dumbass,” Abigail laughs, punching you lightly in the arm as she heads for the bus.

You make a final sweep of the venue to make sure nothing is left behind. Emerging into the parking lot you see Sebastian, leaning against his bike. The lone streetlight above like another spotlight, and he’s putting on a show just for you. Seb’s lips curve into a soft smile as takes a drag from his cigarette. The smoke curls up around him, obscuring all of his features except his gleaming eyes that track you as you approach. All his.

Finally alone, the desire that has built up over the course of the night threatens to overtake you right here in the parking lot. You reach for him as Seb puts an arm around your waist pulling you close. He leans down, kissing up your neck to your ear.

“Did you get all dressed up in black just for me?” he whispers, nipping at the sensitive shell of your ear. You let out a shaky breath.

“All for you Sebby,” you sigh.

His cock hardens from both the nickname and your admission. He pulls your body flush with his. You gasp as you feel his hard length pressing against you.

“Let's get you home sweetheart, there’s so much I want to do to you,” Sebastian growls into your ear.

Taking one last drag from his cig, he drops it to the pavement putting it out with a twist of his foot. Seb reaches behind his back and produces two helmets. He hands you the smaller one.

“I thought you only had the one helmet,” you tease.

“Gotta keep my girl safe,” he says with a wink.

The two of you put on the helmets, and you watch as Seb straddles the bike. Ugh, he looks so hot, something about the helmet covering his features, only his neck exposed, really gets you turned on. He starts the bike and revs the engine. Seb reaches out a hand to you and you take it, straddling the bike behind him, you wrap your arms around his stomach. He reaches back, running his hand down your thigh, giving you a quick squeeze. And then you’re off.

God, you feel so good nestled behind him. Your arms hold him in a tight hug as your thighs squeeze him. Fuck he loves your legs and with your tits pressing into his back, he’s in heaven. Seb has always loved taking his bike out, he feels so free flying down the quiet highway under the stars.

His heart swells at the trust you place in him, to keep you safe as the two of you speed through the empty streets. He hopes you’re having a good time too when he feels you lean back and let out a whoop into the night air. Seb laughs and does the same. When he’s with you, it’s like gravity’s endless weight is lifted and he can dream again. You must sense this because you squeeze him tighter for a moment.

Something no one ever told you about riding a motorcycle is that it’s basically one giant vibrating seat. And with your arms around the man you’re planning to fuck the second this ride is over, the sensation is making you extremely horny. You can feel the wetness pooling between your legs and you try to adjust your position to get the vibration right where you want it. Seb must think you’re uncomfortable because the moment you shift his hand reaches back to squeeze your thigh again.

His worry for you makes you determined to let him know just how good you feel. You start to move one hand, running it down his stomach. Seb returns his hand to the handlebar, thinking your touch is to reassure him, but you aren’t done. Your fingers drift downward, searching and finding. His cock stiffens and his hands clench the handles. You give him a rough squeeze through his jeans and he lets out a groan barely audible through the sound of the wind. You tug on his length as you rock your hips on the seat.

Closing your eyes you begin a slow pace of jacking him off over his jeans and grinding your pussy into the vibrations. You’re so lost in seeking your pleasure that you don’t notice Seb has turned off the highway until the motor cuts off. You whine at the lack of vibration, not fully comprehending what’s happening until Seb pulls you off the bike. His helmet is still on but his visor is open. You can see the desire flashing in his eyes.

“My needy girl, couldn’t wait to finish the ride before needing my cock,” he growls.

“I- I didn’t mean to…” you whimper as Seb pulls off his helmet, and runs his hand through his hair.

“What am I gonna do with you,” he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head.

Setting down the helmet, Seb circles the bike. You take off your helmet, shaking out your hair. He drinks in the sight of you, the moonlight shining off your hair, the desperate look in your eyes, the way your black clothes cling to you and how he wants to peel them off. He pauses in front of you, hand palming his now aching erection. Your gaze is glued to that hand, taunting you.

Seb undoes his belt buckle, pops the button on his jeans and slowly pulls down the zipper. Watching you squirm with every small movement, he could do this for hours, basking in your hungry gaze knowing that you want him just as much as he wants you. But he won’t keep you waiting. He eases his cock out, hissing as the cool night air trails over his hot length.

“On your knees baby.”

You oblige instantly, he chuckles at your obedience.

“That’s a good girl,” he growls.

He shudders as you grab him, pressing a light kiss to his tip before you flick your tongue along the slit dripping with precum. And when your warm, wet mouth wraps around his length he has to stop himself from thrusting into the back of your throat. You take your time, sucking with your mouth and pumping with your hand until he can’t take it anymore.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and rocks his hips forward. Forcing his cock to hit the back of your throat. The feeling of your tongue on the underside and the light scrape of your teeth on top force out a groan from deep within his chest. His eyes lock on yours, so full of tears just waiting to spill out. He thrusts a few more times, relishing in the feeling of his balls hitting your chin. When your throat squeezes him as you choke on his cock, he swears if he died right now at least he’d die happy.

And as much as he craves to chase his own pleasure and pump his seed into your waiting mouth, he has to make sure you’re okay. Pulling his dripping length from your lips, Seb crouches down to cup your face in his hands. You cough and take in a few ragged breaths before meeting his gaze. He strokes your cheek, “such a good girl for me” he sighs pulling you in for a searing kiss.

“Up you go,” he says, pushing you up to standing. You lean back against the parked bike, not trusting your legs to hold you. Now it’s your turn to look down at Seb, even though you know you have tear streaks on your face and drool on your chin, his eyes are full of adoration. It’s so cute you don’t know if you want to laugh or to cry.

He rubs his hands soothingly up and down your thighs. Then his fingers catch the hem of your shirt, lifting it just enough for him to press a soft kiss to your stomach. He grabs the waist of your jeans, eagerly undoing the button and zipper he pulls them down to reveal your black panties. This pair has a little bow just below the waistband like you’re a present that’s his to unwrap. He stands slowly, moving his hands from your waist to cup your breasts.

He kisses you softly then whispers in your, “Turn around for me baby.”

You do, bracing yourself against the bike. He softly touches your ass. It’s fully on display, framed by the lacy black straps of your thong. He growls, slapping your soft flesh. You let out a moan as the cool night breeze instantly soothes the sting. Seb cups your pussy and chuckles when he feels the hot wet crotch of your panties.

“If I knew you’d like the bike so much, I would’ve put you on it ages ago,” he teases, pulling the fabric to the side.

He teases your slit with a long finger, dragging it through your folds to lightly flick your clit. You gasp and arch your back. Fuck he loves how responsive you are, every touch eliciting a reaction. He plunges two fingers into you, pumping his cock at the same pace. He gets lost in watching his digits disappear into your warm, wet hole.

“M-more Seb, please,” you whine, pulling him from his trance. Before you register the loss of his fingers, the tip of his cock is already teasing your folds. You moan, pushing your hips back.

Seb chuckles. “Is my sweet girl ready for my cock?” he asks under his breath.

He knows the answer is yes, he knows you’ve been ready since before the show, but he likes making you wait. Teasing you until his cock is the only thing that could make you feel better. He notches his length at your entrance and slowly pushes into you. You groan, finally getting what you’ve been craving for days. Your toys at home can’t compare to this feeling. Being filled and fucked by your man.

He slowly enters you until his entire length is sheathed inside your perfect pussy. Your walls clench around him causing his breathing to turn ragged. His grip on your hips tightens, as he eases out of you until just his tip is inside of you. Then without warning, he shoves all the way back in. You cry out, arching your back and Seb knows he’s hit the spot inside you that makes you see stars. He thrusts into you again and again, fingers leaving bruises on your flesh as he steers you closer and closer to orgasm. Your walls squeeze him tighter and he knows you’re close.

“That’s it, baby,” he grunts, “Cum for me, you can do it.”

And you do, expletives and his name string together in a chant that he’s sure could raise him from the dead as you cum around his cock. He follows you over that cliff, pushing as deep as he’s able, sealing his body with yours as tightly as he can. If two souls could join, it must feel like this, he thinks as he empties himself into you.

The two of you stay in this position, you draped over the motorcycle like Seb’s wet dream and Seb still inside you, head hung low, trying to keep his legs from giving out as he decides if he ever wants to move again. And then your pussy flutters around his length and he’s sure if he doesn’t pull out now he’ll die from the overstimulation. Easing his cock from you he watches entranced as his seed drips out of you.

He’s never wanted kids but his mind is suddenly filled with images of your belly swollen as his child grows inside of you. He flushes and his cock twitches painfully at the thought. He pushes that desire down, your relationship (if you can even call it that) is so new, he’ll do anything to keep from scaring you away.

Carefully, he covers your dripping pussy with the thin strap of fabric that is your thong. You groan and wiggle your hips as he rubs you through the fabric. Seb slaps your bare ass, huffing out a laugh at your little yelp. After tucking his cock away and pulling on his jeans, Seb helps you up and turns you around. Leaning against his bike, he pulls you into his arms kissing the top of your head and breathing in the smell of your hair. You rest your head on his shoulder, kissing his neck.

His heart is so full he fears it might burst. You pull back to see his face, the look in his eyes is so tender, so loving you have to hold back tears. You slide your hands behind his neck and pull him in for a kiss. The kiss is long, full of hope and passion and all the things you are too nervous to say.

Pulling away from the kiss, Seb squeezes your still-exposed ass. “Let’s put this away before you tempt me to go again,” he says pulling up your jeans. You giggle, buttoning your pants. When you look up Seb is back on the bike, his arm extended toward you with helmet in hand.

“What do you say, baby, let’s keep this adventure going?” he asks, hoping you understand the weight of his words. You know that after tonight, your heart is his whether he knows it yet or not. You take the helmet and climb onto the bike behind him. You whisper into his ear, “Lead the way Sebby,” and set the helmet on your head. He starts up to engine and with a whoop, the two of you speed off into the night.

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transformers-future-au · 10 days ago

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CYBERTRONIAN CULTURE AND GEOGRAPHY: an overview (01)

CULTURE - gender, arts & fashion

Cybertronian culture has many aspects to it that are rather fluid. The ideas of gender, race, religion and expression are very dynamic for them when compared to organic species but are made rigid only due to their current governing authority. The culture varies from colony to colony but there are many common uniting ideas.

One such is the idea of gender. Now, according to canon, mech is actually a gender-neutral term but it has been used as a masculine equivalent while a fanon term ‘femme’ exists for feminine. But these terms would not be sufficient to explain the elaborate idea of gender expression amongst the transformer kind. The idea of gender is a new one that emerged during the time of Nova Prime but it was one that most bots didn’t mind and actually thought was kind of cool. Until then, they sort of just existed in whatever they looked like. Cybertronians have their frames created randomly due to which the ratio of feminine looking and masculine appearing bots are near equal. But the idea of categorization and labels made it easier for bots to identify. There exists a spectrum of gender expression and the word bot is often used as a general term for Cybertronians. Until the Autobot-Decepticon war where the word ‘Bot’ was claimed by the Autobots, a term ‘mecha’ was introduced.

Moving on to solely Cybertron.

The planet is very diverse with different cities that have their own accents, styles, celebrations, fashion and lingo. The city of Iacon is the capital and hence considered the more refined out of the rest of Cybertron. The upper north of Cybertron is mainly filled with technologically advanced megacities that most of the upper class of Cybertron lives in. Cities like Iacon, Vos and Harmonex are located there. Meanwhile, down south, there exist industrial cities with mines, refineries and factories where the lower classes toil in for energon scraps. This is just a general overview. This does not imply that Iacon doesn’t have a population of lower-caste bots. They do. Iacon and Vos have docks that are staffed with dock-workers and delivery bots. After all, the grandeur of the upper class mecha are brought to life through the sufferings of the lower classes. However, most of these lower class bots in the fancy cities usually dwell in its outskirts.

These radically different living conditions produce radically different cultures amongst the different classes. The upper castes of Cybertron have easy access to the arts. Various theatres where plays are held along with massive stages for musicians to perform are all across Northern Cybertron, especially Harmonex which is somewhat of the cultural capital of Cybertron.

The lower castes have no easy access to any of the old traditional works that their predecessors have left for them so they resort to making their own art, their creativity is likited by means. Many contemporary art forms and new styles of literature exist among dock workers, manual labourers, service bots and miners— each with their own take and personality to it. Music is often sung in unison as the dock workers of Iacon load and unload cargo or the factory workers of Kaon hit their hammers against metal in a rhythmic pace. They have no other pleasantries in life. Workers use their equipment and bang on various surfaces with different densities, creating sounds akin to that of drums— music is often made this way. In the glassmaking factories, they use glass to make different tunes and pitches.

But many of the lower class aren’t built-in with language chips, especially after The Senate began mass producing mecha. There’s only so much metal to make chips and modules so an unfortunate consequence is that most are illiterate in the lowest castes, especially in the miner class (this is an important thing to note). Mostly the older models have better skills in things other than just mining.

This takes us to a different form of self-expression other than literature and music— fashion. Fashion amongst Cybertronians and most mechanical species revolves mainly around plating types, paints and accessories. Most of the lower-class mecha can’t afford the fancy accessories and paints but despite this, they make an effort to look good through servo-made accessories to hook on or stick on to their frame. Some use cheap dye to make their optics have different colours. Paints are usually stolen.

Meanwhile, the higher classes of bots go over the top with their sense of style. Fancy high tensile metal fibre mended into regal capes, plating with different textures that are coated in a variety of paints to make it really pop, accents and bioluminescent paints or dangling accessories to attack to their helm pieces; Cybertronians can be quite creative when it comes to modifying their frames fashionably, each revolving around individualistic style. There also exists plating textures where plating of a bot is made to look designer with different texture add ons, creating a new sensation when touched.

There are some unconventional styles in the realm of Cybertronian fashion that involve things like paints on their faceplates, it is a large part of Camien culture and religion though. Some are inspired from the sense of style in the colony worlds or foreign cultures, though it isn’t exactly encouraged and is generally looked down upon. Main-stream trends change depending on the cities.

Not to mention, different frame-classes often have different ways of accessorising due to the nature of their frame types and even different cultures.

However, most of Cybertron's rich fashion culture was wiped away when the war started. It was deemed to be impractical and as a show-off. It's one of Cybertron's many lost cultural aspects. However, remnants of this sense of style remain alive in colonies like Caminus and Eukaris.

2. GEOGRAPHY - cities -> part 1

The major cities of Cybertron include: Iacon, Harmonex, Kaon, Petrex, Tarn, Vos, Helex, Tesarus, Tetrahex, Praxus, Stanix, Polyhex, Nyon, Darkmount and Straxus. They are divided into North and South as stated before— Northern cities being mainly places of culture and scientific advancements and the cities down South being industrial factories that fuels and powers the scientific progress of Cybertron.

Northern cities include: Iacon, Harmonex, Polyhex, Stanix, Tetrahex, Vos, Petrex and Praxus.

Southern cities include: Tarn, Kaon, Helex, Straxus, Darkmount, Nyon and Tesarus.

Nyon lies in between the lines of North and South but is considered mainly an industrial city.

Each city is unique in its own right.

Iacon is the capital city, a cradle of scientific progress. It was once called Cyber City, a long, long time ago before the Primes. Iacon is the oldest city and where most of Cybertron’s politically and religiously important structures stand— such as the Senate building, the Primal Basillica and so on.

Vos is one of the most unique. Majority of its inhabitants are Seeker class warriors with the advantage of flight. This unique flight frame was developed because of the nature of Vossian terrain, high cliffs and steep mountains that go deep into chasms.

Darkmount is a military base, ground-based warrior frames set up their barracks. It was thriving during Nova’s conquests— docks and markets thriving with soldiers returning from their slaughter up in the stars. But after the era of conquest fell, it reverted to being nothing more than a military headquarters.

Kaon is the city of factories, it's the closest to Darkmount and during Nova’s expansion, it produced tons of weapons and ammunitions to Darkmount. It remains as the weapons production capitol of Cybertron.

Tarn is primarily energon rich lands filled with mines. Most of its inhabitants are usually miners or low ranking military foot-soldiers. Tarn is, in a way, the metaphorical spark of Cybertron— majority of the planet's fuel originates from this area.

There exist minor settlements and towns like Yuss or Kalis but they are often overlooked and are left unchecked. However, during the Autobot-Decepticon Civil War, they served as vital strategic points for supply lines. Most of the village and rural life on Cybertron was turned extinct by the war. Bots began moving to larger cities in mass for better protection and opportunities.

#mtmte #transformers cybertron #maccadams #transformers armada #transformers #unicron trilogy #transformers g1 #transformers animated #tf au world building #worldbuilding stuff #cybertronian culture #cybertronian worldbuilding

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sirenjose · 2 years ago

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Hunter Norton Backstory Trailer Analysis

As a rule, the sons of miners follow the occupation of their fathers. Once Norton’s father died, and his mother also likely dead by then too, he had no other choice but to become a miner if he wanted to survive. Especially with how poor they likely were, Norton’s father (and mother) likely left almost nothing for their son, forcing him to work hard to support himself from a young age.

Based on Norton’s comment about living like a “rat” for 20 years, as he is 28 in the present, Norton’s father potentially died when he was 8 (his mother potentially died before then), leaving him an orphan.

A Mine Regulation Act in 1872 prevented children under the age of 12 from working underground. Until then, he would likely have been kept to surface work, such as:

Sorting and transporting materials

Loading and unloading transports

Assisting with general maintenance and cleaning

Delivering messages

Etc…

An Educational Act in 1870, which applied to England and Wales, made schooling compulsory for boys between the ages of 5 and 10, while an Act in 1872 applying to Scotland made school compulsory for kids between 5 and 13.

Once he reached the age of 12, the Regulation Act in 1872 would continued to limit his work hours, which prevented boys between 12 and 16 from working more than 54 hours in 1 week or 10 hours in 1 day. It also required them to have 8 to 12 hour breaks between “periods of employment” (defined as starting when they leave the surface and ending when they return to the surface).

Once he was old enough, regular miners were expected to work at least 12 hour shifts (though this varied from mine to mine) on weekdays. And we know from Norton’s deduction 2 that he worked longer than any of his coworkers, while his 3rd letter states, as a habit, he enters the mines at least 30 minutes before the others.

Conditions in the mine were hot, musty, and cramped (as mine owners didn’t want to spend extra to make them bigger), increasing the chance of accidents. We can actually see just how narrow the tunnels usually were in the trailer.

Miners also worked in complete darkness except for lighting they had to buy themselves. In fact, they had to buy much of their own equipment.

Unfortunately, wages for miners were incredibly low back then. Miners were paid by the quality of what they produced rather than by the hour, giving owners plenty of ways to reduce how they could pay their miner (including by lying about the quality or rigging the scales).

The average wage of coal miners in the 1880s was somewhere between 3s (s = shillings) and 5s per day, with around 4s being closer to the normal, and 5 only if you were lucky. 4 shillings was about $1.20. Generally though wages varied greatly in different districts. After spending on equipment, food, and rent, they could be left with maybe no more than 1s.

Going back to the trailer, it says “Blasting Agent – Mercury (II) Fulminate”. This is an explosive compound made from mercury, nitric acid, and ethanol. It was commonly used as a primary explosive in percussion caps and detonators during the 19th century. When struck or subjected to a shock, it would rapidly decompose and produce a violent explosion. Its role was to initiate the ignition or detonation of the main explosive charge, such as dynamite.

This is the stuff that we see him pouring into the dynamite.

Continuing, we see Norton smiling at a coin, but then his wrist is crushed by the other miners, who steal it from him, taunting him to try to take it back.

Norton actually smiling at the coin helps show Norton’s desire to get out of poverty, an idea he emphasizes later when he describes poverty as a “curse”.

But as we see in the Famitsu Article, people didn’t understand why he tried so hard. It “intimidated” them. Then in Norton’s 2nd letter as well as in this trailer, we see that he was ridiculed by his coworkers. They didn’t think it was possible for him to achieve such a goal. This is reflected with how essentially, at that time “Englishmen recognized if he is in a certain social grade, he is likely to remain there. He’ll never reach a higher class, and didn’t rebel”. Each class “cheerfully” accepted “the lot which providence has assigned” to them.

Norton was different though. He says in the trailer “I once thought the same” after it talks about sons of miners became miners themselves.

He may have initially accepted the same thing everyone else did, but things likely changed over time, the longer he was forced to live this sort of life.

There’s also a good chance part of his change was from working with people like Benny. He learns from them to improve himself (and hopefully improve his chance at earning more), but he also sees how these old miners are, which emphasizes in his brain he doesn’t want to end up like them. He doesn’t want to end up in hospice or stuck in poverty his whole life like they did, just waiting for the day they die.

Norton worked hard, harder and longer than everyone else, in the hopes eventually this would be enough to improve his life, to make it even slightly close to what most would consider a comfortable life, even if it meant only the basics. But it wasn’t enough. The mine owners were greedy. The other miners were all in it only for themselves. His wages were miniscule, and his daily and weekly expenses pretty great. Especially with how back in that time period, mine owners had ways where they attempted to keep their employees indebted to them, to force them to keep working for them, as well as improve their own personal profits as much as possible.

Norton was surrounded by these sorts of people forced to live in such a cruel environment, watching the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. This is reflected in his 2nd letter where he says “This is simply unfair. The poor find it difficult to lead a comfortable life, while all the rich need to do is wave their banknotes around”. He describes all the pain he’s gone through just at the chance to “climb up” out of poverty before describing “how much effort I put into this” as “ridiculous”.

His hard work is exemplified by his 3rd deduction, which describes how he’s done so well his employers always attempt (but fail) to keep him for longer. He works to learn, to improve his skills, and better himself at the chance at earning more and thus potentially work his way out of poverty faster.

We can also see it during the trailer, with him surrounded by all these books and other things.

This quality of his, where he likes to teach himself, to learn, and to improve himself has been implied at other points by Netease, such as by several of his skins or even from part of other collabs, like B.Duck, which described Norton as “full of curiosity” and “likes learning”. It also described him with a “desire to act at MAX” or “highest level of execution”. This means he’s the type of person to put all his effort into whatever he does.

It just wasn’t enough.

We even see the sort of suffering this life has forced him to endure, as in the trailer it shows him coughing due to the damage his lungs have suffered due to his life as a miner.

Hard work wasn’t enough. This is why he eventually turned to the list of 13 mines he learned from Benny, seeking to instead attempt to escape poverty by finding gold.

As explained by @metalIurgy and @Deskdeas, each of the names on this list are European mines or people.

(Also, there seems to be 15 names total on the list, rather than 13)

Von Donnersmarck: House of Donnersmarck, prominent aristocratic family that originated in the region of Silesia. Owned mines.

Georg Wilhelm: Russian military officer and engineer who specialized in mining

Prince Konstantin: prince of Russia, killed in a mining shaft

Ștefan Procopiu: physicist who researched electricity and magnetism

Friedrich Alfred Krupp: German industrialist, developed Krupp steel manufacturer and arms manufacturing company

Saarbergwerke: mining company that operated in the Saarland region of Germany

Romeria: religious pilgrimage (Spain or spanish speaking countries?)

Petro-pavlivska (''Петро-павлівська''): black coal mine located in the Eastern part of Ukraine

Nova Baňa: silver and gold mining site in central Slovakia.

Swansea Copper: Welsh copper mines

Eramet: French multinational mining and metallurgical company

Ivan Polzunov: Russian engineer known for his contributions to steam engine technology

Wowdcole: ?

(Sorry, I can't read the 15th name crossed out in the top left corner of the list)

We know from Norton’s 5th deduction that he tried and failed to find anything at any of the other 12 mines, leaving him with only Golden Cave left.

Back to the trailer, we see him with a map.

The left side looks like it should be a map of Lakeside and the surrounding area, with Golden Cave being the X at the base of the mountains. Count Barriere is the owner of this land, and also the owner of Golden Cave. The right side should be the representation of a map of the mine itself.

Considering how earlier Norton’s coworkers stole Norton’s coin, it’s possible they essentially tried to do the same thing here. Saw him looking at the map, then took it for themselves. Like how Norton’s 8th deduction includes “you need more helpers”, they may have forced him to take them along, and why they explore it on their own without Norton. Especially with the looks on their faces in that scene not showing they had any good intentions.

(A lot of what I’ll say next is said very well by @Yaboku_samaa)

Norton seems to have set all this up in advance, before they came through the mine.

Next we see Norton’s inner conflict. A conflict between morals and vengeance represented by survivor Norton vs Hunter Norton. His Hunter side manages to win out by telling Norton that this is what they deserve, it’s revenge for all the pain and ridicule he’s been put through, all in silence, all without fighting back. He’s forced to keep a façade. To keep his true feelings hidden if he doesn’t want a penalty or reduction in wages. He’s tired of having to live such a hard life of constant suffering and humiliation and hopelessness, and thus why he had hit his limit and the side represented by his Hunter version won out.

(I’m not going to push the idea too much, but it’s possible Norton may have bipolar disorder. That or DID, especially with how he literally talks to himself in his 2nd letter. Especially as both can form in children or young adults who experience long-term physical or emotional distress or abuse. Causes can include childhood trauma (like neglect, abuse, trauma, losing someone like a parent), stressful life events, genetics, etc…)

This decision is shown during the trailer when Norton says “There are ways to make a change”.

Norton’s 2nd letter does an accurate job of summarizing everything:

“Over the last 20 years, I lived like a rat in the gutter. I spent days under the ground in the dark just so I could earn a minimal living. Scars from the blasts crawled all over my face like maggots. The constant scorn and ridicule... I endured it every time just so I'd get a chance to climb up the ladder. It's ridiculous how much effort I put into this—anyway, I've finally managed to crawl out from the rat hole. I no longer have to pick and pull on the disgusting ash. Those who did nothing but laugh at me deserve to stay underground and be stepped on like maggots forever.”

And the trailer visually showing Norton’s inner conflict matches up very well with how quite clearly Norton in his 2nd letter is arguing with himself. The side represented by Hunter Norton is likely the version talking right now, trying to convince him (the side represented by Survivor Norton) to kill the female, “think about how arrogant she is” and all the money he’d get. The fact he is trying to convince himself shows that Norton doesn’t want to do it, and how he isn’t willing to do anything for money. His hatred for his coworkers for their treatment of him for so long was enough for the side represented by Hunter Norton to convince him to trigger the explosion on them, but that motivation doesn’t exist here. Right now, his less moral side is trying to motivative him with money and thinking about others as “arrogant” and essentially mean, as well as the doubt that she could do something to him.

But that may not be enough to convince him next time to actually do it if he’s given a chance. At Golden Cave, that was his last chance to try to find gold. He’d gone through 12 other mines (and 20 years of pain on top of that) with nothing to show for it. Norton may be very stubborn and determined, but even he was growing so very desperate, which is shown well by Norton’s 5th deduction as well as by the trailer itself. So it makes sense that Norton was mentally not in the right place and vulnerable to the sort of temptation we see him going through in the trailer.

Norton is alone. No family. No money. Suffering from lung problems. Has never been shown kindness and forced to grow up in a very cruel environment. The only thing keeping him moving forward and losing all hope is by focusing on his goal of getting out of poverty and achieving some form of a comfortable life with at least the basic necessities. This is shown very well by Norton’s 4th birthday emote “Savings”, where Norton takes out a single gold coin and thinks about simple worn clothes and a loaf of bread, while the description reads “Endure it, Norton. You’re almost there”.

For years he attempted to push on, but little by little, his coworkers, his employers, his environment, it all chipped away at him until he felt he had no other choice. I believe the trailer does a good job of emphasizing how his main motivation wasn’t greed but desperation, hopelessness, and the pain he was subjected to by his coworkers and everyone. It’s life or death, and this mine is his last chance, and his deep misery that pushes him over the edge, so it’s no wonder he doesn’t care about anyone anymore. He’s always been alone, always had to be the one to look out for himself. No one else could be trusted. They would only take advantage of him or even potentially steal what little he had. Yet even still he hesitated to pull the trigger, which I think says a lot about Norton.

Despite the decision being made, he doesn’t run after he sets off the explosion. He accepts what happens. There’s no way he didn’t know what was going to happen, not with how long he’s worked as a miner, and how much he’s learned in his own time. It could be the side represented by his survivor version sees the scar as punishment for his deeds. It could be he knew if he wanted to get his revenge he had to deal with the potential scars.

But he was here not just for revenge, but for the chance at finding gold. Hunter Norton’s character backstory says the accident brought Norton “Golden Luck” or “a gold rush of fortune”, so it sounds like he did find something.

We do know he at least found the meteorite, which is what he made his magnet from, so this could be what is referred to in Hunter Norton’s backstory.

Along with the above, we could connect whatever his “golden luck” was with Memory’s comment during Time of Reunion, where she says “they seemed to be looking for something other than ore”.

This is repeated during AoM with a newspaper clipping about rumors being false of precious metal ore in the mine.

Considering Golden Cave’s rumor is “despite not a single piece of gold was ever found, Count Barriere still got what he wanted with this land”, these statements should be talking about the same thing.

It’s possible Barriere was after the meteorite, especially as the only things we know that came out of that mine after it collapsed were Norton and the chunks of the meteorite he carried.

There are potential parallels from Lily’s essence, which connects to Golden Cave, and her essence story says “The mine is filled with special phosphorescent ores, which brought wealth to their ancestors but also cursed them with phosphorescent illness”. Considering in the famitsu article it says the magnet aka the meteorite may have been affecting his brain, it’s possible the “phosphorescent ores” is meant to parallel the meteorite.

If that is what Barriere is after, maybe there’s a chance he reached out to Norton afterwards, and he could’ve been the one to offer Norton all that money in exchange for killing some female. Especially when we know Count Barriere has a lot of money based on Lily’s backstory, as he even offered her enough to survive for 2 years and even more via making her the owner of the IOU likely belonging to Orpheus for him buying Oletus Manor.

Anyways, we also know from Norton’s 3rd letter that he “dug his way out through a mountain creek a few dozen meters away from the mine” with only “minor burns”. We also know from the Famitsu Article that people didn’t talk to him, they said a bare minimum then kept a “wide berth”, and considering the very visible scar on his face, it is possible this was the reason they avoided him (they were frightened of him. Like we see at the end of the trailer, it is possible people saw him as a “monster”, especially back then when these sorts of things weren’t treated or seen as kindly as today).

#idv #identity v #norton campbell #prospector #Fool's Gold #fools gold #Hunter Norton #idv norton #identity v norton #idv prospector #identity v prospector #idv fool's gold #identity v fool's gold #idv fools gold #identity v fools gold #idv hunter norton #identity v hunter norton #sirenjose analyses and theories

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themariotheme · 2 months ago

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Raining Indoors

i said i was writing mr lawrence fanfiction and now here we are. i regret nothing. yumeshipping myself w him is not a crime... or is it!? might post this on ao3 if i continue writing. be the first to break ground over there i guess...

this takes place in like 1999 during the production and release of the first season of bob l'eponge

Lou was hunched over her desk with her nose comically close to her painting when a drop of water landed on the crown of her head.

She looked up from her work to see a steady trickle had started in a corner of the room without her noticing; a small pool was already forming on the floor. She jumped from her seat and moved all the computers nearest to the leak, but her panic only worsened when she noticed the drip above her desk had also begun to pick up speed. The entire background painting department had been struck with a flu that she had somehow managed to dodge, so she was completely alone in the studio.

After pushing tables out of the way of the leaks which were worsening by the minute, Lou’s palms began to sweat. So much work and equipment would be ruined if she didn’t move all the art and computers out soon. With nothing to be done about the leak at that moment, the one-man background painting department would just have to move into a different room.

Lou stuck some buckets under the leaks and ran to the office manager to inform them about the situation, hurrying back to the studio to rescue her work. She loaded a rolling chair with a stack of folders and carefully placed the pieces she had been painting on top, and then carried as many manila folders as she could manage in her arms.

Lou made her trek across the carpeted hallways precariously, one arm pushing the chair and another straining under the weight of the folders. She wasn’t even particularly sure where she was going, just hoping to come across an empty studio, though she was focusing most of her gaze on the papers loosely taped to the top of the folders. She hoped the gouache had dried down by now.

"You need help with that?"

She looked up at the familiar voice and saw her coworker Doug Lawrence, his eyebrows raised and arms held aloft.

“Uhh, yeah! Thanks." He was taking the folders out of her arms before she was even halfway through her sentence.

"Where to?" He smiled, falling into step beside her as she wheeled the chair sheepishly. Her arms felt quite empty now.

"Actually, I don't really know." She laughed. "Just any empty studio I could use, I guess?"

The two of them walked slowly through the hallway. It was strangely quiet and desolate. Had everyone at Nickelodeon fallen sick?

"I'm Doug, by the way," He piped up after a second, turning to smile at her. "Nice to meet you?" he smiled apologetically.

"I'm Lou," she replied, laughing. She understood his tone: the two of them had barely exchanged more than a few words during the years working here, being in different departments, but were peripherally aware of each other’s existence in the office. “Nice to meet you, too.”

"So, why exactly am I doing manual labour right now?" Doug readjusted his grip on the stack of folders.

"There's a leak in the background painting studio," Lou said. "My entire department got wiped out by that flu that's going around so I was alone when it started raining indoors."

"Well, you should’ve remembered an umbrella," Doug said, shouldering a door open for her. She slipped past him, pushing the chair ahead of her through the door and squeezing past his lithe frame. She could feel his gaze on her as she brushed past.

Doug set the stack of folders down on a desk and started to arrange them arbitrarily.

“Thanks for the help, Doug,” Lou said, unloading the rolling chair. “But I do have another two or three trips to make if you’re still feeling gallant.”

“Suddenly I regret helping you,” Doug joked, stretching out his arms.

Lou giggled, and the two of them hurried their way back with the rolling chair in tow to save the rest of the work and supplies.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding about raining indoors,” Doug said as he set a computer down on the floor by the doorframe.

“Yeah, I probably could’ve acted with a bit more urgency.” Lou pushed a couple of fabric office chairs out of the room, leaving the plastic ones inside to fend for themselves against the downpour.

Once they had moved most everything into the safety of the hallway, they started the slow process of relocating the necessary things to the temporary studio. After three more trips, they were officially done. Lou chose a desk at random and taped the pieces she was working on onto it. Doug looked over her shoulder.

“You’re really good at painting,” he said, and leaned back into his chair. “You’re good at what you do.”

“Thanks, so are you.” Lou looked over at him. He was reclined in his seat with his arms splayed over the armrests and long legs straightened out in front of him: the picture of ease and nonchalance. “You comfortable there?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Doug laughed, sitting forward and leaning his arms on his knees.

“I mean, I’ve been here just as long as you but I can’t for the life of me feel relaxed in this building,” Lou said, sighing and leaning back into her seat. “You just always look so relaxed.”

“Oh, so you’ve noticed me!” Doug grinned and leaned towards Lou, making her roll her eyes. “I think it’s just the way my face and limbs fall. Always loosey-goosey.”

“Like a rubber hose cartoon,” Lou said. She hadn’t had a response to his teasing but it was true - she had noticed him. He had a nice smile and was cute in a lanky and slightly nerdy sort of way, and he was funny and a good writer, which Lou admired about him from afar. She had started at Nickelodeon as an animator working on Rocko’s Modern Life a little bit after he had left the team as a writer and director, but they had never worked on the same show again until Spongebob came around.

“It’s kind of weird that we barely missed one another when working on Rocko,” Doug said suddenly, as if he had read her mind.

“Yeah, we just sort of passed each other by.” Lou wondered what it was like to work with him. “If you ever need layouts or backgrounds done, I’m your girl. You know where to find me now, I guess.” Lou gestured around the empty room.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Doug laughed. “Not that much of anything I’ve been pitching has made it past the pilot, though.”

The end of the workday caught them by surprise. Apparently, Doug hadn’t gotten that much done that day, especially with his detour into helping rescue Lou’s work. He elected to stay back late, but walked Lou to the parking lot.

“You’re nice,” Lou piped up as they exited at the side entrance of the building.

“Gee, thanks,” Doug replied, feigning delight at her meager compliment as they came to a stop at the edge of the parking lot.

“I mean it. You’re nice and you're easy to talk to. I guess you wouldn’t know but that’s a lot coming from me,” Lou said, pulling hair out of her face as the wind picked up and decided it was determined to blow it every which way. “Didn’t mean to sound so defensive there, my bad.” She laughed sheepishly.

“It’s all good. You’re nice to talk to. I like you. Kinda wish we had met sooner.” Doug smiled. “Need me to walk you to your car?”

“I think I’ll be alright. Feel free to stay here on the lookout for evildoers until I’ve driven off, though.” Lou smiled, readjusting the strap to her bag on her shoulder.

Doug laughed, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. They exchanged goodbyes and Lou walked to her car, throwing her bag onto the passenger seat and then clambering in herself. She started the car and waved to Doug, who waved back. He mimed scanning the vicinity for criminals and then gave her a small salute, making Lou giggle. As she pulled out of her parking spot, Doug smiled and waved goodbye, and then made his way back into the building.

#idek what to say . i am cringe and free leave me alone #mr lawrence #mr. lawrence #fanfic #doug lawrence #my writing #ch's

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ltwilliammowett · 1 year ago

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Wreck of the Alice A. Leigh or Rewa, New Zealand

The Rewa was once the largest sailing ship registered in New Zealand, originally named Alice A. Leigh (1889) and the 3,000 tonne vessel had 4 steel masts and 31 sails.

The barque had several adventures, she survived a collision with the German ship Rickmers, a minor mutiny in 1904 and, in 1914, made a very fast passage of 48 days for the 900 mile trip from Mexico to Newcastle. In October 1916, she was nearly sunk by the famous German submarine U-35 in the Mediterranean. Alice was sold in 1917 to the New York and Pacific Sailing Ship Co. Her last visit to Australia as the Alice A. Leigh was in 1920, she was the sold to George H. Scales Pacific Ltd. Of Wellington and renamed the REWA.

Her chequered history continued when she took a load of coal to Wellington, only to be embroiled in a waterfront dispute over the use of new equipment for unloading her cargo. She made her last major voyage to London via the Cape of Good Hope in 103 days, with a load of wool. She arrived in Auckland in August 1922 on her final voyage. In December 1922, the Auckland Harbour Board , ordered the REWA be removed to a harbour mooring and the proud 33 year sailing ship was ignominiously towed up the harbour to a mooring off Chelsea Wharf where for nearly 10 years she swung round her mooring, becoming more and more decrepit.

Rewa remained laid up off Northcote Point until April 1931 when Charles Hansen offered to purchase the REWA as she lay for 800pounds. Legend has it that he was “the front man” for a local syndicate, who wanted to circumvent the strict licensing and gambling laws of the day, by converting the REWA into a luxurious drinking and gambling establishment, linked to the mainland by fast motor boats. The REWA was towed by the steam tug Te Awhina to Moturekareka Island. The plan was to await high tide so that the 309 feet long ship could be positioned, to sit across the Bay on a sandbank, in a level position. Alas this did not happen , the Rewa slid off the sand bank, with the bow in shallow water, and the stern in deep water, tilted steeply over to port, totally unsuited for what the syndicate had intended.

And now my dears you know why not to rename a ship, nothing good comes out of it

#naval history #naval artifacts #alice a leigh #1889 - 1931 #age of steam #shipwreck #sailing ship

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ducktoo · 9 months ago

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Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

6. Year-end spectacular

Note: Happy weekends! Enjoy more fluff!

Masterlist here

It had been a few months since Y/n first stepped into his role as aespa’s manager and also moved in with them. He’d gotten better, that much was certain.

Gone were the days of fumbling through schedules or confusing rehearsal rooms. He’d learned the ropes, built a system that worked for him, and even earned a few nods of approval from the girls—Karina’s hesitant trust, Winter’s playful banter, and even Giselle and Ningning’s constant teasing had become part of his daily life.

Comparing to his first few days, it was as clear as day and night.

But nothing could’ve prepared him for MAMA. The year-end show was on an entirely different level.

Whereas rehearsals, smaller concerts, and fan events had become routine, MAMA was like stepping into the lion’s den. The venue was massive, the expectations were higher, and the backstage atmosphere was a chaotic whirlwind of artists, staff, and equipment moving at lightning speed. Every second mattered. Every detail could be the difference between a flawless performance and a career-defining disaster.

Y/n stood at the venue’s loading dock, eyes wide as the scene unfolded in front of him. Trucks were unloading equipment, stage props were being wheeled in by frantic staff, and idols were practicing last-minute routines in every available corner of the building. It was overwhelming. He had faced difficult moments before, but this was a whole new ball game. His nerves, which had subsided in recent weeks, surged back with a vengeance.

"You good?" Winter’s voice broke through his thoughts. She was standing beside him, her arms crossed and a slight smirk on her lips, as if sensing his nervousness.

Y/n gave her a shaky smile. "Yeah, just...taking it all in."

Winter chuckled softly, nudging his shoulder. "Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Just don’t pass out on us."

"Bet you 5k won I will," Y/n said, and the knot in his stomach confirmed his losing bet.

It wasn’t just the scale of the event that was getting to him. It was the fact that this was their biggest performance of the year—the kind of showcase that could make or break aespa’s place at the top of the industry. All eyes would be on them, and Y/n knew that, as the manager, a lot of the responsibility fell on his shoulders.

If anything went wrong, it would reflect on him.

He had been improving, yes. But MAMA was an entirely different beast. Could he handle it?

The atmosphere at the MAMA Year-End Showcase was electric. The lights, the screams from fans, the high energy—it was the kind of event that brought out the best in every artist.

He stood backstage, clutching his clipboard as though his life depended on it. The pressure was suffocating, and the chaos that ensued backstage only made things worse.

"Y/n, where are the backup costumes?!" one of the stylists ran up to him, her voice laced with panic. Y/n’s eyes widened as he quickly skimmed through the checklist.

"Backup costumes…" he muttered under his breath, flipping page after page. But the backup costumes were nowhere to be found on the list.

His heart sank. Of all the things to mess up on, it had to be this.

"Uh, I’ll figure it out!" Y/n called over his shoulder as he dashed towards the costume storage room. He could hear the hum of excitement growing louder as other groups prepared to go on stage. The countdown to aespa’s performance was ticking down, and he was nowhere near ready.

As he reached the storage room, Y/n’s heart pounded in his chest. His mind raced, trying to figure out where he could’ve gone wrong. Where were the damn costumes?

That’s when Karina appeared, calm as ever. She surveyed the chaos with a raised eyebrow before walking over to a stack of boxes labeled incorrectly.

"These?" she asked, pulling out the missing costumes effortlessly.

Y/n blinked, staring at the box in disbelief. "How did you—?"

"They were mislabeled," Karina explained, her voice calm but assertive. "It happens. Don’t stress."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Karina’s cool demeanour helped settle Y/n’s nerves. She was so… composed. It was hard to believe this was the same girl who had been skeptical of him just months ago. Before he could respond, Winter entered the room, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"You look like you’re about to pass out," Winter teased, her voice filled with playful sarcasm. “And I’ll get my free money.”

Y/n shot her a tired look. "Tsk, this girl…”

Winter chuckled and clapped him on the back. "Relax. We’ve got this. You’re making this a bigger deal than it is."

"Easy for you to say," Y/n muttered under his breath. "You’re not the one in charge of making sure everything runs smoothly."

Winter smirked. "We’ve been through worse. Trust me, this is nothing."

With Karina taking charge of the wardrobe situation and Winter wrangling the crew, Y/n found himself watching in awe. They were naturals under pressure, far more used to handling chaos than he was. Slowly but surely, they were piecing everything together. The clock was still ticking down, but somehow, the group had everything under control.

The lead-up to the performance was a blur. Y/n was juggling multiple tasks—coordinating with the production team, finalizing the setlist with the crew, and ensuring the girls were ready for hair and makeup. He had a checklist in his hand, his pen furiously scribbling down last-minute changes as staff members darted around him.

"Y/n, we need the final lighting cues for the stage!" someone from the production crew called out.

"Give me two minutes," he responded, already flipping through the pages of his clipboard. He was proud of how much better he’d gotten at handling these situations, but as more people approached him with urgent requests, he could feel the pressure building.

To make things more intense, the backstage area was filled with other groups—many of whom Y/n recognised from his trainee days. Some of the NCT members were hanging around, joking and laughing as they warmed up for their own performance. He could feel their eyes on him as he rushed by, no longer the fellow trainee they used to know, but now aespa’s manager. It was a surreal feeling, knowing that they probably remembered him as the kid who was training alongside them just a few years ago.

"Yo, Y/n!" one of them called out as he passed by, causing him to stop in his tracks.

He turned to see Jaehyun from NCT giving him a nod and a grin. "You surviving back here?"

"I need ICU, hyung!!," Y/n laughed, rubbing his face in agony. "This is way more intense than I thought!"

Jaehyun chuckled. "It’s impressive, man! You got this!"

"You're killing it, hyung!"

"Slayy!"

Y/n appreciated the words, but he didn’t have time to let them sink in. As much as he would’ve liked to catch up with his former trainee mates, the clock was ticking, and the pressure was mounting. He gave them a quick peace and hurried back to his duties.

Y/n watched from the side of the stage as aespa stepped onto the platform, the deafening cheers of the crowd echoing throughout the arena. The stage lights dimmed, and for a moment, everything was still.

Then, in an explosion of colour and sound, the girls began their performance.

The opening line of "Trick or trick" from Ningning blasted through the speakers, and Y/n’s breath caught in his throat. He had seen them practice a hundred times, but there was something different about watching them perform at MAMA. The sheer energy, the intensity in their movements, the way they commanded the stage—it was mesmerising.

The transition to "Drama" got him really excited. (It was his most listened song this year)

He glanced up at the massive screens displaying their every move. Karina’s sharp dance lines, Giselle’s flawless rap delivery, Winter’s vocals soaring effortlessly, and Ningning’s charisma radiating out to the audience—it all felt surreal. The fans were losing their minds, screaming every lyric, and Y/n couldn’t help but feel proud. His chest swelled with admiration.

Don’t even mention about the outfit because they all look so good.

For a brief moment, he forgot about the chaos backstage. He wasn’t thinking about the costumes or the props or the miscommunications. All that mattered was the performance happening in front of him. It was awe-inspiring.

They’re really something else.

When the final note hit, the arena erupted into a wave of applause. The lights dimmed, and aespa exited the stage, sweat glistening on their skin but smiles plastered on their faces. As they walked back toward Y/n, he felt an overwhelming sense of relief and pride wash over him.

"We nailed it," Ningning grinned, giving him a fist bump as she passed by.

"Thanks for not losing the costumes," Karina added, her voice remained stern but there was a moment tease cracked through.

Y/n chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Don’t remind me, Jimin."

The adrenaline high didn’t last long. Once they were backstage, the post-performance chaos hit in full force. The props for their next segment were missing, and there was a miscommunication with the lighting crew, who had already moved on to the next group. Panic spread quickly through the staff, and Y/n found himself at the centre of the storm once again.

"What do we do?" someone from the production team asked, their voice filled with urgency.

Before Y/n could even open his mouth to answer, Karina stepped in, her calm presence immediately commanding attention. "Winter and I will go look for the missing props. Y/n—" she pointed at Y/n, "—talk to the lighting team. Make sure they’re ready to switch back to us for the encore."

Y/n nodded, still in awe of how quickly Karina had taken control of the situation. Despite the chaos, there was a strange sense of calm in the air. With the group pulling together, everything seemed less overwhelming.

After a frantic few minutes of running around, Y/n managed to communicate with the lighting crew. Meanwhile, Winter and Karina returned with the missing props just in time for the encore.

When the show finally ended and the curtain fell, Y/n felt like he could finally breathe. The performance had gone off without a hitch—well, at least from the audience’s perspective. Backstage had been a whirlwind, but they had pulled through.

As the girls gathered in their dressing room, laughter filled the air. Giselle threw herself onto the couch, exhausted but smiling. "That was insane. I can’t believe we made it through."

"Yeah, thanks to Jimin-unnie saving the day," Winter teased, elbowing Karina playfully.

Y/n chuckled as he entered the dressing room, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Yeah, we would've been done for if it weren't for you, Jimin."

Karina shrugged, a modest smile on her face. "It's all part of the job. We're a team, right?"

Ningning, sitting cross-legged on the couch, chimed in with a cheeky grin. "And here I thought Y/n was going to have a heart attack backstage."

"Close call," Y/n admitted, collapsing into one of the empty chairs. "I really thought my life flashed before my eyes when the props went missing."

"But you didn’t," Giselle pointed out, still smiling. "You kept it together and got it done. That's what matters."

Y/n nodded, taking in the words of encouragement. He'd survived his first MAMA show—and barely at that. But seeing the girls relaxed, joking, and satisfied with their performance made all the stress worth it. In the grand scheme of things, he realized that no matter how chaotic things got behind the scenes, they had each other's backs. It was a team effort, both on and off the stage.

Suddenly, Winter threw a towel at him. "So, how does it feel to officially manage your first big event, idiot?"

Y/n caught the towel with a laugh. "Exhausting. But honestly?..." He looked at each of the girls, his expression softening. "I’m proud of you all. That performance was incredible."

"We’re proud of you too," Karina said, her tone more serious. "We know how much pressure you’ve been under. You handled it well, Y/n."

The sincerity in her words caught him off guard. After all, Y/n was still relatively new to this—he hadn’t even hit the one-year mark as their manager. But hearing them, especially from Karina, say they were proud of him meant more than he could put into words.

"You guys made it easier," he finally said, smiling. "I’m lucky to manage a group like aespa."

Ningning’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned forward. "Aww, is our manager getting emotional on us?"

"Oh shush, this child" Y/n admitted, earning laughs from everyone in the room.

After the whirlwind of MAMA, Y/n was exhausted beyond words. He had just dropped the girls off at their dorm and had one thing on his mind: go home, collapse in bed, and not think about work for at least twelve hours. But as soon as he sat in the van, ready to drive away, his phone buzzed.

Message from the organisers at MAMA:

"Hi, sorry to burst your peace, but please send over the report on the MAMA showcase tonight. We do need it urgently"

Y/n groaned, his head hitting the steering wheel. Of course, the day wasn’t done yet. He stared at his laptop bag on the passenger seat, feeling his last ounce of energy drain away. As much as he wanted to head up with everyone, he just wanted to get this done quickly before winding down. So, he decided to just stay parked outside the dorm and work from the van.

He set up his laptop, trying to get comfortable in the driver's seat. Typing in a cramped space wasn’t ideal, but it was better than nothing. The glow of the laptop lit up the van as he began typing the report, each keystroke feeling like a Herculean task.

Just when Y/n was finally getting into the flow, a sudden knock on his window startled him. He turned to see Giselle, grinning mischievously despite wearing her mask, peeking through the window.

Saying that his heart jumped out was light in comparison to his reaction.

“What are you still doing in there?” she asked, her voice slightly muffled by the glass.

"Girlie, I thought I was going to be mobbed…" Y/n sighed.

"Tsk. But seriously, what are you doing here?"

Y/n rolled the window down with a sigh. “Finishing up the MAMA report. Why?”

Giselle raised an eyebrow, glancing at the glowing screen. “In the van?”

“Won't make it in time if I wash up,” he admitted, leaning back in his seat. “Plus, it’s quiet in here.”

Giselle stared at him for a second, then crossed her arms. “You're not finishing it up here. Get inside.”

“What? Aeri, I wasn’t planning to—"

“Too late. I’ve decided,” she interrupted, already turning on her heel toward the building. “Hurry up, manager-nim. We'll order take out for tonight”

Y/n blinked after her, dumbfounded. "B-but-"

A minute later, Giselle sent him a text:

"You’re getting up now, mister. We’re not letting you work and accidentally sleep in the car like some stray. Karina will actually kill you if you don't come up in 5 mins."

Y/n groaned but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face. He packed up his laptop, locked the van, and begrudgingly made his way toward the dorm. As he entered the building, he was greeted by a lounging Winter and Ningning, sprawled out on the couch, half-watching some drama on TV.

“Well, look who’s finally ready to join us,” Ningning smirked as Y/n entered the living room. “Aeri-unnie said you were trying to camp out in the car to finish up sudden work?”

Y/n shrugged, his fatigue hitting him like a wave. “I was just trying to finish the report before getting up.”

“Eh…they will understand if you fell asleep,” Winter said with a playful grin. “Idiot. Just do it tomorrow."

Without waiting for permission, Y/n collapsed onto the couch, his body sinking into the cushions like it was made of clouds. “Fine. But don’t mess with me while I’m asleep. I know how you guys are.”

He was reminded by the pranks these 3 did to him throughout the months. A combo of wasabi Russian roulette, scare prank, and the recent doodle incidents wasn’t easy to counter back.

“No promises,” Giselle called from the kitchen, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.

As Y/n finally got comfortable, Giselle tossed him a blanket. “Rest up, manager-nim. But be warned: We get up early.”

Y/n mumbled something unintelligible, already half-asleep. His body was so exhausted that he didn’t care where he was as long as he could sleep.

Y/n stirred from his sleep, but something felt… off. He blinked his eyes open and immediately noticed two things: one, he was lying in the most uncomfortable position imaginable, and two, he was covered in sticky notes.

Again. At this point, Y/n forfeited.

Each one had a doodle or ridiculous comment scribbled on it.

"World’s Sleepiest Manager (and the Best)."

"Nice nap, huh?"

"Don't forget the MAMA report!"

"You're as stressed as Karina!"

"Please don't lose us again!"

3-0 to aespa.

Groaning, Y/n peeled off the notes, feeling the stiffness in his neck from sleeping awkwardly on the couch. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and looked around the room. Winter was sitting at the kitchen counter, sipping a cup of coffee and smirking at him.

“Morning,” she greeted, still trying her best to hold it in.

“Morning…” Y/n muttered, still groggy.

“I see the others couldn’t resist messing with you,” Winter chuckled, motioning to the now-empty living room. “They’ve already gone out for schedules. Red Velvet’s manager-unnie drove them there instead. You’re stuck with me for now.”

Y/n sighed as he stretched, feeling every sore muscle in his body. “Why didn’t anyone wake me?”

Winter raised an eyebrow. “You were dead to the world. Plus, we figured you needed the rest after yesterday.”

Y/n glanced down at the pile of sticky notes in his lap. “Yeah, clearly.”

Winter grinned as she got up and handed him a cup of coffee. “Here, drink this. You’ve got a long day ahead.”

Y/n took the coffee gratefully, but as he sipped it, Winter’s expression softened. “You’re doing good, you know?”

Y/n looked at her, surprised by the sudden sincerity in her voice. “…Jeong. It’s morning and you’re scaring me.”

Winter shrugged. “You’ve been thrown into the deep end, but you’re managing. And, you know, it’s kind of nice having someone who’s been around… well, me, at least, for so long.”

A nostalgic smile crept onto her face, and Y/n couldn’t help but smile back. He had known Winter since they were trainees, and despite the chaos of the past few weeks, there was a strange sense of comfort in their friendship. It was like old times, just in a completely different world.

“Thanks,” Y/n said quietly, feeling the weight of her words. “That means a lot.”

Winter settled onto the couch beside him, nudging his shoulder. "And you’re still the same guy I knew back then, always falling asleep in the weirdest places."

Y/n raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, and you’re still a pain in the—"

Winter playfully punched his arm. “Now, finish your coffee and clean up. You got a report to do and we’ve got dance practice later.”

Y/n groaned, but this time, it wasn’t from exhaustion. He finished his coffee, feeling slightly more energised, and started peeling off the last few sticky notes from his arms. Despite everything, he couldn’t help but smile.

Maybe being part of aespa’s chaotic circle wasn’t so bad after all.

#aespa #aespa giselle #aespa karina #aespa ningning #aespa winter #aespa x reader #karina #kpop #ningning #giselle #ning yizhuo #yoo jimin #kim minjeong #aeri uchinaga #x reader #winter #aespa x you #aespa x male reader

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mackeydoodledoo · 10 months ago

Text

She Wears Short Skirts, I Wear T-Shirts: Chapter 6

Pairing: Bridget (Cheerleader AU) x (Fem!)Reader

Chapter Summary: You finally reach the end of your high school years... However, instead of running away with your band right on the last day of classes for seniors, you decide to give a big reveal to your class, and a farewell to Bridget... At Prom.

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, Angtsy Ending

Chapter Key: Italics = Thoughts, +*+ = Time Skip, F/n = Friend's name, B/n = Band Name, Bold/Italic = Flashback

Chapter Theme: Good Luck, Babe! - Chappell Roan

A/n: This isn't going to be the last chapter btw :)

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

*Y/n's POV* You roll up your sleeves as you look at yourself in the mirror.

Prom...

You were going to flunk it and practically run away on tour with your bandmates. However, were personally hired by the school...

"Y/n honey your friends are here!" Your mom calls you from down stairs

Your dad helps you load your set into the back of your van.

"You're always welcome home," Your mom gives you the tightest hug, "Even if the town holds bad memories."

"Thanks mom, I'll be in touch," You say

You give your dad a hug as well before hopping into one of the single seats in the van. You wave off to your parents as your bassist drives down the street.

"We're probably coming back here once we're done with the tour," F/n says, "So we ca relax before hitting the studio."

Since 'ghosting' Bridget, your band got a record deal in the city, and you're one of two openers for a headlining band: finally reaching that goal.

"Hey you, haven't seen you since homecoming," You finally notice F/n's girlfriend sitting with her

"Told you I'd be wanting to tour with a band," She smiles, "A shame about Bridget though... How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," You answer bluntly, "But, hopefully I'll feel better after hitting some drums..."

You didn't show up to your graduation: knowing you're the laughing stock for fumbling Bridget. However, everyone who knows you well enough knows she's the one who fumbled you.

"How could one fumble Bridget so hard?!" You overhear someone's conversation

You enter the band hall. Luckily, your last period was band, you could get away from anyone who wasn't a band person.

You had your diploma mailed to your house. You didn't have a big graduation party. Only another gig.

"Before we end the night, we want to give our biggest congratulations to our Drummer and Lead Singer for their high school graduation," The bassist speaks through their microphone

The patrons cheer as you hit the kick drum.

"All right one last one up the shit hole!" The guitarist screams

That was F/n and your 'graduation party' if you will.

"Maybe some woman from another town would catch your eye!" F/n suggests

"I doubt it," You say, "Romance may have worked out for some, but not for me... Apparently..."

"You're young," The guitarist says, "You'll be able to figure it out."

"Or Pinky Pie might come back around," The bassist says

"Yeah, after a stunt like that, it's really hard to gain forgiveness," F/n says, "Forget about Bridget. She was using you as a 'lesbian experiment' or whatever..."

As you arrive to the venue you see the principal waiting at the door.

"Ahh! Y/n, congratulations," He says, checking off your band's name, "You can start setting up in the main hall."

Your guitarist brings the van up to the entrance and the six of you begin unloading the equipment.

+*+

F/n's girlfriend help you attaching your drums to their attachments. You nearly fumble attaching the higher tom onto its attachment on the kick drum.

"Are you sure you want to do this Y/n?" F/n asks, "We can always bail."

"Yeah, you still look like you're hurt," F/n's girlfriend notes

"Not going to give that damn hothead Hook the satisfaction of winning," You sigh, "But, Bridget always wanted our band to be known to the school... So she's getting that wish."

You set up the last of your drumset.

"We'll do the gig," You answer, "But, we're only playing for one hour. Then we have to leave for our tour."

"Deal," The head of prom agrees, shaking your hand

"What a bold way to do it," They tell you, "I get that you're still upset and everything-"

"I'm not," You reassure your friend

You were in full honesty... But, you feel relieved all the same.

"I'm saying goodbye," You say

"A very Y/n thing to do," The guitarist says

This gig was also the highest paying one... Wanted to make sure it was enough to get through the tour... Including tips and whomever buys merch...

"I can't believe you waited this long to reveal the band to the school," The bassist says

"I love the fact you're pinpointing me like I'm the leader," You sigh

"Well, you are the one who keeps us in time," F/n says

"That's because I'm the drummer," You say, "Well, I also thought we agreed that we wouldn't reveal our 'cool band' personas to the school since we... Hate this place F/n."

"She does have a point there..." She says, "Alright, let's get this shit show over with so we can get to the much cooler shows."

You couldn't wait to be honest.... You were going to a new state.... You never could really afford to travel. Even with a job, it wasn't enough. But, at least you weren't spoiled to death like the popular girls. You, and the people you share the stage with worked hard to earn your shit.

+*+

You see the prom-goers beginning to gather at the venue. Bridget showing up with her boyfriend... You turn away at the sight of her, beginning to feel your heartbeat thrum in your ears.

"Y/n, breathe.." F/n puts their hand on your shoulder, "We're on in Sixty."

You nod as you walk to your drum set.

"Good evening Merlin Academy High seniors!" Principal Merlin announces through the microphone

Cheers erupted from the other side of the curtain.

"Before we get to our amazing DJ of the night, we have a special opening act for all of you tonight," He continues

You grab your drumsticks...

"This band features two of Merlin Academy High's seniors," He continues, "Please give a warm welcome to... B/n!!!"

The curtain drops as you throw down a rhythm and your bandmates follow.

You look out to the audience and see Bridget's shocked face. Your brain goes back into 'performer' mode.

"Hey Seniors," F/n greets as the three of you play similar rhythms together, "Didn't expect Y/n and I huh? Well, do we have a surprise for you!"

+*+

As the set went on, countless seniors were practically in front of the stage, cheering. You see Bridget and Hunter sitting at a table in the far back... You knew she wanted to be the one at the front of the stage. Hell, even on stage with you. But, Hunter.... He seems to have said otherwise.

You could give Bridget some credit, that seeing all the people that bullied you throughout high school screaming, and cheering for the two of you.... It was gratifying..

+*+

"Thanks Merlin High Academy!" F/n says, "It's been a ride! So long, and goodnight!"

The curtain goes back up as the five of you walk backstage and take a second to breathe.

"HAHAH! Tell me the didn't feel so GOOD Y/n!" F/n smiles as they hook their arm over your shoulder

For once.... You felt... Happy.

"You should have seen all of their faces when they saw us on stage!" She continues

"Priceless!" You laugh, "They're gonna regret calling us nerds and treating us like shit in the next few years! Oh, you should have seen how all of them were practically at the front of the stage!"

As the house music began, you all begin breaking down equipment: F/n's girlfriend helping you break it down.

+*+

You carry the attachments in an elongated bag, as f/n's girlfriend carries the smaller drums, and anyone else who has an extra hand to carry the bigger drums. As the guitarist opens the back and begins meticulously organizing all the equipment, you pass some of the smaller stuff to them.

"Y/n," Bridget's voice calls out to you

You stop moving and turn to face her. Instantly your heart thrums against your ears. Her boyfriend practically clinging to her.

"Couldn't face me alone so you had to bring your little dog around?" You ask

"You little bitch!" Her boyfriend begins walking after you

"Hook, no," She presses her arms against his chest, "That's not it."

"Oh, right..." You chuckle sarcastically, "He's practically surgically attached to you and doesn't trust seeing you with the likes of me."

"Y/n that isn't fair-"

"You know what isn't fair?" You walk up to her

Hook was about to right hook your jaw, however, didn't want to in front of her.

"Letting me believe you actually cared about me," You start, "Hang out with me so many times, you invite me to your house, cheer competitions and get me to talk about all this shit after we graduate. Turns out it was all fake. To 'tell' me that we are nothing. but you know the truth... That's what's not fair... So I'm getting the fuck out of here."

You finish loading the last few pieces of your drums.

"Will I ever see you again?" Bridget asks, attempting to hold her tears back

You pause...

That little spark of hope in you wants to... The dark parts say 'fuck no'. The other... Is unsure...

"I doubt it," You answer, "Goodbye... Bridget..."

You continue walking to your van. That little spark of hope in you hoped that she'd last second change her mind and want to go with you....

*Bridget's POV* You wanted to leave your boyfriend behind and just go with Y/n... But, he was right there... Next to you... He'd never let you go...

"Finally Y/n, let's get this show on the road and forget this shit graduating class!" Y/n's friend says, which you could hear through the muffled glass

*Y/n's POV* You shut the back doors of the van, trying to keep yourself composed. Bridget's eyes glued to your back. You wanted to look back... To take in her pink hair, and her soft facial features before you may never see it again....

But, it was time to move on...

You hop into an open seat in the van, shutting the door behind you. Leaving your hometown behind...

Leaving... Bridget behind.

Chapter 7

#descendants #bridget x reader #bridget #female reader #bridget descendants #ruby rose turner

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theomencometh · 1 year ago

Text

okay i've had this scene from an au stuck in my head recently so here's 3k of timkon identity shenanigans where kon has been recently taken in by luthor for nefarious reasons and is forced to attend a gala where tim and bruce show up. robin hasn't revealed his identity to the team yet even though they've been friends for years. canon/timeline has been put in a blender and liquified.

Kon takes a deep breath in through his nose, holding it for a few seconds before slowly letting it out of his mouth. It’s a technique that Robin taught the team when he was trying desperately to get them on a more bat-approved training regime, including meditation and an acrobatics routine that Nightwing allegedly used on the Teen Titans years ago. Kon is fully aware that he’s got weird stuff going on with his body’s organs and systems compared to humans, but the slow, rhythmic breathing still brings comfort and helps center him, slowing everything down enough so he no longer feels like he’s going to accidentally fry someone with his heat vision.

He tugs at the collar of his dress shirt, gulping and taking a deep breath again. The shirt and tie feels so much more restrictive than his Superboy uniform, tightening like a noose around his neck, and the inflexibility of the suit coat makes him feel like a stiff, awkward mannequin.

“Stop that,” Luthor says, putting a heavy hand on his shoulder. Kon immediately stills, straightening and trying to relax at the same time.

“These people are vultures,” Lex says, voice low. Kon tries to focus his super hearing on him, rather than the woman with the loud laugh across the ballroom or the clink of glasses down the hall where the staff is continuously loading and unloading equipment. He can hear the steady beat of Lex’s heart, the rhythmic whoosh of air traveling in his lungs, the slight gurgle of his stomach (gross!). Kon decides he doesn’t like listening to Lex Luthor very much.

“Remember what I told you,” Lex is still saying. “Be on your best behavior. Today is about getting your name and your face out there. Be polite, but not a pushover. Never let them see weakness.”

Kon forcibly bites back the retort that his only weakness is kryptonite and makes himself nod instead.

Luthor leads him over to a group of people with his hand still clamped on Connor’s shoulder like a shackle. From there, it’s an exhausting parade of schmoozing with millionaires and billionaires, shaking hands firmly (but not too firmly!), laughing at unfunny jokes, and pretending that he loves dear old Dad instead of wanting to punt him through the nearest wall.

Kon is charming. He knows this. It’s something that he’s known since he freshly came out of a test tube, and it’s something that he’s perfected with smiles and body language and a well-placed word or phrase. Kon can get most people eating out of his hand with barely any effort, but it’s usually normal people a little closer to his age, not rich, egotistical, out-of-touch old people who want to pinch his cheeks but absolutely cannot be allowed to due to his invulnerable skin. Kon forgets everyone’s name almost as soon as he hears it, clutching his flute of sparkling cider like a lifeline (but not hard enough to shatter).

Kon doesn’t know how long he gets paraded around as Luthor’s newest pet, but it feels like forever. Everyone talks around where he’s been for the past 17 years of his life (nonexistent and then in a lab and then gallivanting around with superheroes and then, finally, as of two month ago a little farm in Kansas until Lex Luthor uprooted everything with a few well-placed threats), and Kon lets Lex tell the cover story about how he didn’t find out about Connor until recently, but he’s happy to be reunited with his son now.

Son. Connor isn’t anyone’s son. He was maybe getting to be a family member to the Kents finally, but Luthor threw a wrench into all of that.

Connor had a room at the farm. He had a chore list to do and homemade meals to eat, and Clark has finally stopped flinching when he sees him. Clark grinned at him the other day, not his public smile or a small, polite thing, but an actual, honest to goodness grin. Connor bets he can kiss that goodbye now, just like he can kiss goodbye ever knowing Robin’s real identity, because there’s no way that Batman will let him tell Kon now that Kon is semi-legally under the guardianship of a supervillain, and just like there’s no way that Kon can have anything remotely resembling a normal teenage experience as the ward of a billionaire and forced showpony, and just like–

“I’ll be damned,” Lex breathes next to him, interrupting Kon’s spiral. Kon follows his gaze to the entrance of the ballroom, ears picking up the loud, boisterous laugh of Bruce Wayne clapping someone on the back a little too forcefully. Kon has never seen Bruce Wayne in person, but he’s difficult to miss in the papers, especially with how often he finds himself in trouble. Robin has told him of a few instances when he or one of the other Gotham vigilantes has had to rescue him, and Kon knows that Lois interviewed him once and Clark has informally run into him at a gala such as this.

Clark says he tried really hard to be the journalist from the Planet here tonight once Lex demanded that Connor be there, but it was too late notice. Neither Clark nor Lois are among the reporters clustered in the corner. Kon is alone.

“He didn’t RSVP,” Lex says, miffed. Kon immediately likes Bruce Wayne significantly more because of it. “Oh, and he brought a friend.”

Kon peers around the crowd that has quickly amassed around Gotham’s favorite billionaire and finally spots the person Bruce Wayne has a hand on the shoulder of. It’s a teenage boy, dressed in a dark suit with dark hair parted in the middle to keep it out of his eyes. He’s slight, but not skinny, and he’s not overly tall, probably closer to Robin or Bart’s height than Connor’s. He doesn’t show any signs of discomfort at the press of adults around him, offering polite handshakes and letting the women kiss his cheeks the way some of them have tried with Kon. Bruce doesn’t stray far, taking the boy with him when they finally finish with the crowd near the door and head to the bar. The boy doesn’t seem to mind the attention. Kon, however, does not appreciate the tone of voice that Lex used when he said friend. He’s ready to do some superheroing if he needs to.

“Let’s go,” Lex says, putting his hand on Connor’s shoulder again to steer him through the crowd. “Let me handle Bruce Wayne. The kid is Timothy Drake. He recently became the head of his parent’s company when his father died. This is the first time he’s been seen at an event since the death. Bruce is almost certainly going to adopt him. Timothy stayed with him when Jack Drake was in a coma, plus he has the dark hair and light eyes and Brucie favors in his kids. He’s your focus for the rest of the night. Forget about everyone else.”

“Lex! I didn’t know you’d be here, you old dog!” Bruce calls before Connor has time to process all of that, slinging an arm around Luthor’s shoulders and seemingly crushing all of the air out of him in less than a second.

“It’s my party,” Lex wheezes.

“Good thing I’m here to liven it up, eh?” Bruce asks, elbowing Luthor in the ribs.

Kon really hopes that Bruce Wayne’s obsession with dark haired, light eyed boys is an innocent coincidence, because he doesn’t want to apprehend him for being a pedophile when he’s pissing Lex off so easily.

“Hello, Timothy,” Luthor greets, holding out his hand. Bruce pouts at being ignored while Timothy shakes politely. “May I just say, it’s refreshing to see you out and about. I’m sure running your parent’s company is stressful all by yourself.”

Timothy tilts his head, reminding Connor vaguely of a bird.

“I’m happy to do it,” he says, polite but firm. “It’s what my parents would have wanted, and they left things well organized for me.”

“And I suppose Bruce here has been giving you advice?”

“Now Lex,” Bruce says, wagging his finger at him, “you know that’d be a conflict of interest. Besides, Tim could run circles around me. I should be asking him for advice!”

Connor feels his eyes start to glaze over as Luthor and Bruce volley back and forth, seemingly forgetting that he’s even there. Having Lex’s attention off of him and on someone else is a much needed break, so he’s not about to complain, but it’s also really fucking rude. Connor hasn’t even been introduced to these two.

Timothy catches his eye, sweeping his gaze over to Luthor and Bruce and rolling his eyes. Connor smirks. Timothy raises an eyebrow and Connor mirrors him, just a slight quirk.

Timothy looks pretty nice, up close. His eyes are the promised light blue, but his dark eyelashes are long and thick, framing them beautifully. He’s pale, almost reflective in the glittering chandelier light, and he carries himself with a self-assuredness that Connor envies in this environment. The suit fits him really nicely, hugging his shoulders and accenting his trim waist and long legs. When he raises his flute to take a sip of the drink inside, Kon finds himself tracking the liquid as it disappears past his pale pink lips, his throat flexing as he swallows.

He’s not bad to look at. He could easily turn out to be dull as a brick or a total douchebag, but so far first impressions are good.

“And who is this young man?” Bruce asks, snapping him out of his thoughts. Luthor puts a hand on his back to push him forward a step, and Kon doesn’t have to move, but Lex is going to be mad if he doesn’t and the situation is delicate.

“This is my son, Connor,” Luthor introduces. Kon offers his hand with his most charming smile.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, shaking first Bruce’s hand (better grip than he expected) and then Timothy’s (rougher than he thought it’d be, skin warm).

“Son, eh? He must take after his mother!” Bruce laughs. Lex’s face pinches, but Connor doesn’t have a chance to relish in it before Bruce is sweeping Luthor away with another arm around his shoulder, talking loudly about secret children and parenting hacks. Luthor tries to protest, but it’s quickly drowned out by Bruce, and he doesn’t have a chance to so much as glance back at Connor before they’re swallowed by the crowd.

Kon blinks.

“Bruce will keep him busy for a while, sorry,” Timothy says, not sounding very sorry. He takes another sip from his glass, then leans in. Cologne tickles Connor’s nose.

“Hold your drink by the stem, not the glass,” he says quietly. “It’s supposed to keep your drink from getting warm, an old etiquette thing. It’s small, but it’ll help you blend in a little more.”

Kon looks around the room, taking in the people with flutes like him and where they’re holding it. The majority are holding the stem, and the ones that aren’t are people that Luthor hasn’t bothered to introduce him to yet. Kon adjusts his grip accordingly, off-balance and embarrassed.

“Thanks,” he says. Timothy tilts his head.

“You want to get some air? There’s a balcony over there. Your father will be able to find you easily once Bruce releases him.”

“Yes,” Kon agrees immediately. He’s used to not fitting in, but having the eyes of so many judgy rich people on him when he’s pretending to be Lex Luthor’s human son has been exhausting. No one has been too rude so far, but the weight of Lex’s hand on his shoulder is heavy, and this complicated set of social rules that he still doesn’t understand puts him on edge.

Normally he’d say fuck the rules and do what he wants, but the situation is too delicate for that. Clarke and Robin both told him that he needs to be careful and think twice about every move he makes, and for once neither of them sounded condescending about it. He could tell that they don’t like the situation, either, worry and sympathy clear in their faces.

“Come on,” Timothy says, heading towards a set of double doors. He doesn’t glance back, trusting Connor to follow him, and Connor does, stepping in his footsteps as he expertly weaves through the crowd, deflecting anyone trying to stop to speak to them with smooth excuses and a well-placed smile. In no time at all he’s pushing open the large french doors, releasing them from the ballroom and into the cool night air.

Kon tilts his head up, blinking at the night sky above him. It’s cloudy, obscuring what few stars manage to make their way through the light pollution to reach Metropolis. Connor wishes he could fly up there, feel the dampness of early rain on his face, burst into the dark and escape everything. For now, he keeps his feet on the ground, instead joining Timothy by the railing.

“So, how often do you come to these things, Timothy?” Connor asks, leaning back on his elbows. The other boy perches with a hip pressed against the railing, arms crossed over his chest.

“Tim, please,” he says. “Timothy makes me feel like I’m in trouble or you’re trying to swindle me out of a business deal.”

“Okay. How often do you come to these things, Tim?” Connor corrects, testing the feel of it in his mouth. Tim relaxes at the sound.

“Decently often, but I usually stick to Gotham,” he says. “I’ll have to start coming to more now that I’m in charge of Drake Industries, but I grew up going to galas. Is this your first one since Luthor found you?”

“Is it that obvious?” Connor asks. Tim smirks, but shakes his head.

“I think I’d remember if I’d seen you at one of these before.”

Connor flashes him a charming smile.

“I bet you say that to all the boys.” Tim’s cheeks turn pink, his blush noticeable against his pale skin even with the limited light out here. Kon takes a sip of his sparkling cider, satisfaction making it taste sweeter on his tongue.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but we’re probably the only people under thirty in the whole building besides some of the catering staff,” Tim says.

“You missed the toddler earlier,” Connor hums. “She was throwing a tantrum. I very much sympathized.”

“Did I really?” Tim asks dryly. “What a pity. Oh no. How unfortunate that Bruce likes being fashionably late to everything.”

Connor snorts.

“Bruce Wayne, huh?” he says. “How’d you two meet?”

Tim shifts so he’s leaning back against the railing like Kon. Kon takes a moment to drink in his profile, tracing the sharp jut of his nose, the hair shielding his eyes from him at this angle.

“He’s my neighbor,” Tim says. “I’ve kind of always known him, but our families weren’t really close until a few years ago. When my dad was in a coma, Bruce took me in. My uncle was supposed to get custody of me now, but…”

Tim trails off, searching for words. Eventually, he shrugs.

“He’s fostering me right now. We’ll see where it goes from there.”

“Do you want to stay with him?” Kon asks. Tim considers his words carefully. Connor’s mouth is always running away with him, but Tim seems to have the opposite approach. Everything is measured and careful, cold and tactical. It reminds Kon of Robin in the middle of missions, keeping his reactions even and methodical to counteract the impulsiveness of the rest of the team. Kon wonders if Tim is the type of person to let himself be stupid and emotional around friends like Robin is, or if he always keeps everything bottled up.

“Yeah, I do,” Tim breathes eventually. “But it’s complicated.”

“What do you mean?”

Another pause. Kon does Robin’s breathing exercise, staying patient. Some people need time to talk, and Kon can’t help if he doesn’t know what’s wrong.

“I guess I don’t want him to adopt me because he feels obligated,” Tim says. “He has a family. There’s–It’s a long story, too long to explain now. Sorry, this is a weird first impression, huh? But enough about me! What about you? Where were you before Luthor found you?”

“Uh,” Connor says, still recovering from the whiplash of topics and searching for Luthor’s cover story. “Kansas.”

“Kansas?” Tim prompts.

“Yeah, Kansas. I was in the foster system for a while, then I got adopted by this nice old couple who live on a farm in Smallville, which is just as small as it sounds. I didn’t know anything about my birth parents until Lex showed up.”

“Wow,” Tim says. “This has to be a big adjustment, then.”

Connor scratches the back of his neck.

“Yeah, kinda.”

Kon’s whole life feels like a big adjustment, from adjusting to existing and Clark’s negative feelings towards him, to adjusting to working for Camdus and living in Hawaii, to adjusting to Young Justice and Teen Titans, to finally trying to adjust to Smallville, only to be ripped away from that and forced into Metropolis high society.

“Do you miss them?” Tim asks. “The old couple who adopted you?”

Kon swallows against the unexpected pang that rolls through him. He can almost taste Martha’s pancakes on his tongue and hear the crinkle of the newspaper as Jonathan hands him the cartoons.

“I wasn’t with them very long. Only a few months.”

Tim tilts his head.

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

Connor shrugs. He doesn’t know what the right answer is here. Martha and Jonathan are the closest thing he’s ever had to parents, but part of him never expected to stay with them. When Luthor ripped him away from them, there was a part of Kon that wasn’t surprised at all, even if a bigger part was in agony.

Martha kissed his forehead when he left the farm and gave him a sad smile.

“You can always come back here, okay? This is your home, no matter what Lex Luthor has to say about it.”

“If they formally adopted you, Lex Luthor’s claim as your biological father isn’t enough to force cut contact,” Tim says, pushing off the railing and taking a few steps closer. “Trust me. I researched this stuff when my dad came out of his coma.”

Kon frowns.

“He didn’t like Bruce?”

Tim wavers.

“It’s complicated,” he offers. Kon snorts.

“Yeah, I get that.”

Tim’s mouth quirks up, giving Connor the shadow of a smile again.

“It’s not really a first meeting story.”

“Guess we need a second meeting, then,” Connor says.

“Yeah?” Tim asks. “My weird family dynamic really captivated you, huh?”

“It was your eyes first, actually,” Connor says. Tim opens his mouth, then closes it again, eyes wide. Kon holds his breath. He says flirty things all the time, both to his friends and to people he rescues who seem like they need a pick-me-up, but it’s been a while since he sincerely flirted with someone he plans to see again. He almost never does it with someone who only knows him as Connor rather than Superboy, much less a boy.

If this goes badly and Tim tells the entire Metropolis elite that Lex’s son is a homosexual, maybe the scandal will be enough for Luthor to send him back to Smallville. If it goes well…

“You have… very nice eyes, too,” Tim says eventually. Connor beams, then beams even more at the sharp inhale Tim draws in response. Tim shifts.

“Hey, do you want to get out of here?” he asks. “There’s a decent ice cream place open late a few blocks away. We can be there and back before anyone misses us.”

Connor glances towards Luthor in the ballroom. He’s still talking to Bruce Wayne, and they’ve amassed a small crowd around them.

“Bruce will keep Lex busy for a while. He likes to talk. Besides, you can always tell him that you were networking,” Tim offers.

Luthor said that Tim should be his focus for the rest of the night. He never said that they had to stay at the gala.

“Lead the way,” he says, gesturing grandly towards the French doors. Tim blinks once, then again, then smiles. His eyes light up with it, and Kon suddenly understands why Tim had to inhale before.

“Come on,” Tim says, leading the way. Kon follows just as closely as he did before, trailing him until they spill out into the Metropolis night and he can stand next to him, almost close enough for their arms to brush.

Maybe living with Lex Luthor won’t be so bad if comes with seeing Tim Drake, too.

#my writing #timkon #timkon fanfic #i feel like i'm not going to have the focus to actually make this the full fic it deserves #the plot would be a bear to figure out even though i have inklings #but i love the idea of kon being forced into this situation where he has no allies and is blackmailed into helping lex #and tim and bruce manage to show up and help him as civilians #because there's no way tim would abandon him with a supervillain and a bunch of rich people #buy back the secrets has inspired a deep appreciation for identity fics so! here we are #anyway. this is my first ever timkon piece of writing and i'm scared! but we're vibing #i might put this on ao3 but i don't want to until i'm certain i won't expand on it and make it a full fic

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whatitsdecending · 2 years ago

Text

Chokehold

Vessel x Reader x Noah Sebastian

Something you never expected to find yourself in was a threesome between a man you were casually having sex with and someone you’d never met before.

A/N: if people like this I have ideas to continue it, so do let me know;)

Word Count: 3.7k

Content warning: voyeurism, threesomes, domination, exhibitionism

—————————

The day had gone by slowly, another festival built-up in the middle of nowhere housing thousands of people that attended. It was hot, hotter than normal for this time of year. At least you think it was, you weren’t exactly from Virginia and this climate was a little different from what you were used to.

You did your best to ignore the blistering heat beating down on you from the sun as you worked on unpacking the stage equipment for the band you were a roadie for; Bad Omens, a group of four guys who make some of the best damn music you’ve heard in a long time.

You enjoyed your job, being able to travel around and get exposed to new music or the same stuff you’ve loved for years. There were times where it made you debate whether it was the right fit for you or not, but usually those rough patches turned into the best thing you could ever imagine.

The band quickly befriended you, as they did with the other roadies, but one member was particularly fond of you. Noah Sebastian, the lead singer of the band. He had the voice of a siren and the presence of a lion on stage, but behind the scenes it was a much different story. Behind that stage presence was the kindest man you know, a man who’s been taking care of you, mentally and physically.

It wasn’t anything serious between the two of you, just quick hookups here and there that took care of any built up tension you had. He was good at it and has learned every little thing that makes you squirm beneath his touch, he had your body mapped out in his mind by the second hookup. Watching him on stage always did something to you, the small heat built up in your stomach and a blush rising to your cheeks every time he’d sneak a glance over to you on the side of the stage.

You weren’t sure if anyone had caught on yet, you’d nervously laugh when someone made a joke about you and Noah but it’d always end there, never going further than just a joke to them. And that’s exactly how you want it to stay.

“Working hard or hardly working?” The voice you’d come to be absolutely enthralled with broke through your thoughts. He towered over you, blocking the sun that had been shining down on you for a while and casting his shadow over you.

“I’ve been working hard for too long, actually.” You respond with a sarcastic smile, grabbing the next box to bring over to the techs. He trailed after you and said a quick hello to the techs getting Jolly’s gear prepped early.

“You got time to sneak away for a bit?” Noah whispered as you walked back towards the trailer that held all the equipment. Your heart skipped a beat at his words, it’s been a while since you and Noah were able to sneak away from everyone, and you had to admit you were due for alone time with him.

“I think I’ve done enough, not much left to unload anyways.” You say, motioning to the much smaller load of equipment left in the trailer than what had been there two hours ago.

“Perfect.” A smile tugged at his lips as turned around and walked towards the building that had the dressing rooms set up inside. The chill of the AC on full blast sent a shiver through your body, goosebumps rising on your skin as you entered the building. You followed Noah through the building, admiring the different band names plastered on different doors or on a makeshift tent in the building. You hoped he wasn’t taking you to a random tent that looked like it would fall over in two seconds.

The breath of relief that left your body when Noah stopped outside a door with the band’s name on it, right at the end of the hallway and was in a bit more of a private area than the rest of the rooms. He slowly opened the door, taking a quick peek inside and then motioning for you to come in.

The room was empty besides two couches and a mirror on the wall set-up as a makeup station for performers. It wasn’t that large of a room, just enough to fit the necessities for a dressing room. But it would do.

“Not that bad compared to other dressing rooms you’ve had.” You broke the silence, leaving Noah to snort in response. “Now we gotta make this pretty quick, I got in trouble last time we snuck around.”

“You know I can get you out of any trouble with the crew, right?” Noah’s voice was low as he came up to you, resting his hands on your hips.

“I’m aware, but I don’t want you to keep pulling favors out of your ass for me.” You say as his face lowered down to place gentle kisses along the exposed skin of your collarbone.

“I don’t mind,” he says between kisses. “Besides, it lets me take care of you for longer.” His hands slowly glide up along the curves of your waist, gently moving your shirt up and exposing your skin. His touch warmed your now freezing body, the sweat from before now dried and left you to shiver in the cold of the room. “You’re so damn beautiful.” He muttered softly as he kissed up your neck, trailing slowly to your lips.

Noah’s lips made contact with yours with a soft intent, not wanting to push you into anything too aggressive right away. He knew what worked best for you and letting it build was the way to make you as aroused as possible. He slowly turned you to now face the opposite direction, assuming he was going to use that to push you into the wall.

He slowly parted away from your lips, smirking as you whined about the loss of contact. His eyes sparkled as you stared up at him, wondering what exactly was going on in that beautiful mind of his.

“Have you ever met my friend Vessel before?” Noah’s voice was low as he nodded beyond your shoulder, causing you to take a glance at the man who had been standing behind you. Vessel, you knew he was the singer from Sleep Token, yet the man who stood behind you was not the man you would’ve recognized to be Vessel.

He stood leaning against the wall, his arms crossed against his bare chest. You didn’t recognize him at first because he was out of character, no mask, hood or black paint to disguise himself from your eyes. He was breathtakingly beautiful, someone you certainly didn’t expect to see at this time.

“Keep going darling, I’m just here to observe.” His voice was deep and thick with the British accent everyone knew he had, but had never heard it before. The way he spoke caused you to turn back around to face Noah, who has taken the opportunity to push his lips back against yours. The small fire that burned deep within you had suddenly turned ablaze, the idea of Vessel just watching as Noah dominated your mouth with his.

You could feel yourself grow increasingly wet as Noah’s hands rested on your hips, pulling them closer to his body until you were pressed up against him. The feeling of his hardened cock pushing against your abdomen through his sweats almost made you drop right then and there, but something made you stop.

His hands started on the small of your back, slowly feeling their way along the curves of your body. The feeling of his breath dancing across your skin made you shiver, his hand moved your hair away from your neck and he began to lay gentle kisses along the nape of your neck.

A small moan escaped from your lips as Noah began to leave the same small kisses along the other side of your neck. Vessel’s hand found its way to rest just underneath your breasts, using that leverage to push his body against yours.

There you stood, pressed between these men who will soon have all the access they want to your body. A small uncertainty crept through your mind despite how desperate you came out to be for the two of them. This small uncertainty made you squeeze Noah’s arm softly, indicating you needed him to stop for a moment.

“Everything okay?” He asked softly, his eyes filled with slight worry. You felt Vessel pull back and take a small step away from you, no longer keeping you pinned against the two of them.

“I’m fine.. it’s just-” you stared at Noah’s hand resting on your hip. “What exactly are you two thinking of doing with me? Is there something new I should prepare for that you and I never do together?”

Noah glanced at Vessel, then back to you. “I genuinely thought it’d be a little more fun with another person joining us, I realize now I definitely should’ve asked you beforehand.”

“I can leave now if you’d like, Y/N. No worries darling.” Vessel spoke, placing a kiss on the back of your head. Before he could get out of your reach you swiftly turned around and grabbed his hand, pulling him back to you and pressing your lips against his. “Your mind seems to change very quickly.” He muttered into your lips, tangling his fingers into your hair and pressing your lips against his once again.

“Well, I guess I’ll just take a seat. Y/N, show Vessel what makes you so addicting.” Noah’s voice trailed away as he sat down on one of the couches. A small moan rumbled from deep in you, vibrating against Vessel’s lips.

“I like to be in control love, I hope you don’t mind.” His voice was a gentle whisper as he pushed your bangs behind your ear. His fingers brushing against your skin allowed goosebumps to surface and sent a shiver down your spine.

“That’s just what I like.” Was all you mustered before Vessel had his hands on the underside of your thighs and lifted you up. Your legs instinctively wrapped tightly around his waist as he carried you to the counter, the clanging of items falling to the floor as he swiped his arm to clear space for you.

He placed you on the counter, pressing his body into your core so your legs stayed apart. His lips attacked your neck like a hungry animal, nipping around every once in a while eager to leave his mark on you.

You glanced over to where Noah sat, his eyes were fixated on the performance in front of him. You could tell how turned on he was by the obvious outline of his cock against the material of his pants. As you stared, you waited for his eyes to connect with yours, that thought alone made you even more wet.

“God I need these off.” Vessel groaned, snapping your attention back to him as he pulled at your shorts. You lifted yourself up a little to allow him to pull the shorts off your body. He kept himself sat on his knees after taking them off, glancing at you with eyes that almost seemed to be begging you to let him fuck you like a toy. His hands slowly roamed around your legs, traveling upwards to your center. The anticipation made your heart race more and more every inch.

His lips pressed gently against the inside of your thigh as he kept his eyes on yours. The way he looked at you as if you were his prey and he’d finally caught you, planning his next move with every waking moment of time that passed by. He wanted you, he was desperate for you.

His fingers trailed along the fabric of your panties, toying with the edge of the material against your skin. You hissed every time his fingers dipped underneath them and brushed against your slick, receiving a low chuckle from him each time.

“You desperate girl, how long has it been since Noah has touched you?” His fingers traced along the inside of your thigh, teasing you once again.

“A week?” The answer escaped as a moan when the cool breeze of the AC hit your wet core and Vessel’s thumb pressed against your clit. “Oh my fucking god..” He deepened the pressure and started slowly moving his thumb in circles, the low wave of pleasure hitting your body. He noticed how your body moved underneath his touch, making sure to memorize every touch that made you squirm.

His large hands wrapped underneath your thighs and gripped them tightly, pulling you closer to his face. His breath moved gently against your slick skin as he drew closer to closing the space between your bodies. His large eyes were fixated on your face, watching every expression that came across it as his lips made contact.

“Doesn’t she just taste wonderful?” Noah’s voice broke through the sounds of your moaning, bringing your attention to him. It didn’t last long before Vessel vibrated his response directly onto your clit, his head nodding to add to the sensation. You moaned loudly and it echoed around the room, Vessel’s way of eating you out was so much different than how Noah did it. This new method being used on you was driving you insane, Noah was a bit more gentle and slow with you, only picking up his pace when you begged for it. But Vessel? It was more animalistic how he ate you, his tongue and lips coordinated well together to stimulate your clit and send you into overdrive.

“Holy fuck, Vessel.” You groaned, the familiar pit building in your abdomen. “I’m going to c-“ He moved his face away from your core right as you said that, a whine escaping from you. “What was that for?”

He smirked at you and wiped his face. “Just warming you up darling.” He glanced over his shoulder at Noah, getting a nod of approval from him. There must’ve been some kind of agreement between the two of them for all this, something that definitely took a little bit of planning by the way they’ve become so coordinated through this experience.

“Turn around for him baby, keep your eyes focused on me in that mirror.” Noah says in a demanding tone. You followed exactly what he said, your eyes never leaving him in the reflection of the mirror. Vessel’s hand pressed on the middle of your back, pushing you forward so you were now bent over the counter. The feeling of his tip sliding between your folds and through your slick made you place your hand against the mirror.

“You should probably keep your hand there darling,” Vessel says as his cock pushes into you. “Wouldn’t want you to go against Noah’s wishes.” The feeling of him stretching your walls was intense, his cock was similar to Noah’s but had a bit more girth to it. “Fuck you’re so tight.” He grunts as he begins to thrust slowly, the movement leaving your jaw slack and tears forming in your eyes.

“God you look so beautiful like that baby, taking Vessel’s cock like the good girl that you are.” Noah spoke as he watched your facial expressions through the mirror. His hand hesitated around the outline of his cock, seeming to want to relieve himself as Vessel pleases you. But he never ends up touching himself.

Vessel’s hands gripped tightly on your hips as he picked up the pace of his thrusts. He wasn’t wrong about needing to keep your hand on the mirror, it really helped you to keep the focus on Noah while he pounds you from behind. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping together, the cry of moans coming from you and Vessel was harmonious in a way and a beautiful sound to your ears.

The pit was forming again and you wondered if he was going to let you cum this time around. “Vessel you gonna let me cum now?” You breathlessly ask, hoping he’d start thrusting even harder into you to send you over the edge.

But he had something else in mind.

He stopped thrusting into you and wrapped his long arms around your waist, picking you up and carrying you over to the couch. Noah was now standing, his eyes entranced on the sight of you in the grasps of another man. Vessel laid back against the couch holding you tight on his chest with one hand while the other moved to put his cock back in you. This new position allowed for him to reach your g-spot, the pleasurable ache that ran through you each time his cock hit it was enough to make your body squirm.

“I cannot resist myself anymore, Y/N. You’re too damn addicting.” Noah says kneeling down onto the floor, his face only inches away from your pulsing core. “I just… can’t keep watching…” He planted kisses around your clit between his words, your hips buck at every touch his lips left. “Vessel treating you good baby?” You nodded. “Are you desperate for my touch now?” A whine escaped your lips as you nodded again. He chuckled, knowing if he had the control left he’d sit and watch you beg for him, but at this point he needed to taste you.

His lips pressed onto your clit, parting to let his tongue roam around the bud. It was so sensitive from the stimulation happening below, that Noah adding his tongue to the mix made you feel insane. “Oh my fucking god!” You cried out, gripping Vessel’s arm that he kept wrapped around you. “I’m going to cum guys, I can’t-“

“Hold out a little longer darling, let's cum together.” Vessel whispered in your ear, his thrusts hitting you at a quicker pace than he’d been doing.

“I can’t, fuck!” Your hand found Noah’s hair and gripped tightly.

“Yes, you can.” Vessel’s voice was becoming breathy as he drew closer to his release. “All the pent up orgasms from before, you’ll be able to let them go now, let it go darling.” His permission granted you to finally let go what you’ve been needing, the waves of pleasure practically blinding you. You moaned loudly as your legs shook like mad, this was an orgasm you’ve never experienced before. The warm feeling of Vessel’s cum filling you as your orgasm hit its peak was a kind of sensation you’d never had, but certainly one you’d want again.

As you came down from your high you opened your eyes to see Noah staring at the two of you, a look of admiration in his eyes. “You did so good, baby.” He placed a gentle kiss on your inner thigh, pushing himself off the couch to grab a towel. Vessel lifted you off his lap and set you down on the couch, taking in the mess he made.

“You alright, darling?” He chuckled lightly. “A lot just happened all at once huh?”

“I think I need a nap.” You managed to muster out, watching Noah as he came back with the towel he’d dampened with a bottle of water. He gently cleaned up the mess between your legs left by Vessel, letting the cool towel relax the intense sensation leftover.

“I’d love to stick around for that, but my band is probably wondering where I’ve wandered off to.” Vessel said as he put his clothes back on, a smirk creeping on his face. “Hopefully your nap doesn’t last too long, I’d love to see you side stage for my set later.”

“Oh I’ll definitely be there, just let me rest my legs.” You sighed as you were still trying to process everything.

“Right.” Vessel leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Get some rest darling.” You watched as he exited the room, Noah closing the door behind him. He searched around for your underwear and shorts, eventually finding them and helping you get dressed.

“You don’t have to help me, you never put my clothes back on.” You say as he finishes buttoning your shorts back up.

“I know, I just felt like I needed to give you a hand after all that.” He smiled. “Thank you for agreeing to it, that’s something I kind of always wanted.”

“Really? You like to watch other men fuck your own fuck buddy?” You placed your hand in your back pocket, feeling a piece of paper that wasn’t there before. You already knew who left it so you decided to keep it there until you were alone.

“You can say that I guess.” Noah chuckled. “Well, I gotta go start warming up. Are you gonna take a nap here or on the bus?”

“Mm, probably here I am a little exhausted from that. Plus my hips hurt.” You laid back on the couch, feeling the warmth leftover from Vessel’s body laying there beforehand.

“Okay, I’ll see you later to catch Sleep Token’s set. Have a good nap.” He began to leave but stopped in his tracks. “I’ll just let the crew know you’ve got a migraine from the heat and that’s why you’re not helping for the show.” You gave him a thumbs up and he returned the gesture. He left the room, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the hallway as he walked away. You reached into your pocket for the piece of paper, unfolding it quickly as curiosity racked your mind.

Vessel left you his phone number and a small note that read:

Darling, please give me a call whenever you get the chance. Would love to have a one on one with you sometime, call me and we’ll make arrangements for that.

XOXO, Ves

The idea of being with just Vessel made your heart race in excitement. You quickly added him to your list of contacts, waiting to call him later since he was busy now. You wonder what Noah would think about this, if he’d get jealous or not care that you would hook up with Vessel again without him there.

Whatever he’d think, you couldn’t care less. It was just absent minded fucking, right?

#noah sebastian #vessel #bad omens #sleep token #noah sebastian fic #vessel fic

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msn-04iinightingale · 1 year ago

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HAWK Battery

Bell watched the Barghest Company techs and ground grew unload the cargo the Wild Hunt had brought with it. Carts of spares, ammo, food, medical supplies, everything an army engaging in a protracted planetary invasion could use.

Additionally, the mech techs were busing themselves with loading and checking weapons on the 12 mechs that had been brought with. Currently, the chief tech was ripping one of the SLDF temps a new one, over how to properly calibrate one of the PPCs on the King Crab. She listened hard, tuning out the other noise of the makeshift staging area.

"-oh my god were you trained in a barn?! If you set it to that you'll wear out the capacitor and I'll have to recalibrate it all over again these are works of art and you're getting your grubby fingerprints all over the cowling and if you get oil in those connection ports I'm gonna take this wrench and-"

Bell shakes her head a bit and allows herself a small, small smile.

She turns her attention to Owen's...well...her Mechwarriors for the moment.

The other members of the three lances were assisting in unloading the dropship (Roberta and Ann, who are just kinda moving crates and boxes of munitions that would require at least a forklift to move on their own), helping organize the equipment (John, Sin, John being his usual analitical if boring self and SIn being helpful as ever), vibrating when she's not running back and forth (Flora), Spending a quiet moment together (Delila and Pam, sitting squished together side by side under Delila's Nightstar), talking about meat (Clara, she seems to be talking to the large cleaver she is polishing on a box, more knives than one person would feel is healthy to own set out around her), glaring daggers at anyone who comes near her (Bridget), smoking (Carrie, in the shadow of her Kontio), or complaining about the cold....and smoking (Amaryllis, next to Carrie as they are smoking buddies, he is draped in a far too large SLDF severe weather coat, although where he got it, and what he had to do to get it, remain blissfully unknown to her).

She allows herself a small nod, as all things are as they should be, and nothing out of place. Owen always said she was one for detail, and admittedly, gently teased her from time to time.

Sigh, that man....I hope he's alright.

She had made inquiries regarding the status of her commander, but the situation over in Utah was above her clearance level. Or at least that's what the SLDF toadie she's spoken to...five times...had told her.

She sighs, and pulls up her pad to check the schedule, and to ensure everything is going according to plan. For the third time.

( for anyone who wants to chat with the new girls )

#battletech #mechwarrior #story event #oc rp #operation touchdown

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marshallpupfan · 9 months ago

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The Air Rescue Controversy...

At the time of typing this, the latest episode of PAW Patrol to air was season 11's "Air Rescue: Pups Save a Hum-stronaut". In it, Skye's jet transformed and went out into space, Chase and Marshall dealt with falling debris that caught on fire upon reentry, and Rocky, Rubble and Zuma protected things at Adventure Bay's new airport. The controversial thing here, however, was how the latter three pups referred to themselves as the "ground crew".

The moment I heard them say that, I knew there would be grumbling around the fandom. This, combined with the continued confirmation that only Chase, Marshall and Skye received aerial vehicles, did not sit too well with fans. Those three are off saving the day, while Zuma's "job" is to press buttons to operate the plane wash, Rubble does... whatever he does, and Rocky uses a new vehicle to help load and unload luggage. Fans have pointed out the inequality regarding the treatment of three of these main characters, and how it just doesn't make a whole lot of sense.

The thing is, I don't necessarily mind the idea. In fact, I'd argue that, on paper, it sounds just fine. People tend to forget that those on the ground are quite important, too. And given the size of Chase, Marshall and Skye's new vehicles, having six large aerial vehicles in the air at the same time, and in the same space, might not be the best idea. This isn't like Jet to the Rescue, in which each pup had tiny, personal planes. Besides, I'm not sure about them trying to squeeze in a "construction plane" or something.

The idea of a ground crew sounds fine... again, on paper. The execution, like many episodes these past seasons, is the problem. If they wanted a ground crew, they should've given the three something to make them just as or close to useful as the other three in the air.

Did they? Nope.

Zuma presses a button to run a plane wash. This is pretty much all he does, outside of sticking a sponge on his paw to clean a lens or push some stairs on wheels around (I think Rubble did this once, too). Compare that to Skye and her new jet, flying around at high speeds and even traveling up into space. It's quite the gap, to say the least.

They really should've done something to prevent this. My personal idea, if you'll indulge a person who still wishes he could write for this cartoon someday, is to just ditch the ground crew idea for those three pups (and give it to someone else, who I'll mention later). Instead, how about each of the three new aerial vehicles has a secondary feature, which is ran by one of those other three pups? Marshall's plane can put out fires, but if there's ever an emergency at sea, he can launch Zuma's dropship submersible. Chase's helicopter can save the day however it does, but if something up high needs repair, Rocky can operate robotic-like arms (similar to what's inside his pup pack) while the copter hovers in place. As for Skye and Rubble, I'm not sure how to squeeze construction equipment in there, but maybe one of you can think of something.

In any case, this could've been a good way to send all of the pups into the air, not to mention it might've made for some fun toys, too ("FIREFIGHTER PLANE SET, WITH MARSHALL FIGUREINE + ZUMA & HIS DROPSHIP!! ONE BUTTON SHOOTS WATER, WHILE THE OTHER LAUNCHES THE DROPSHIP FROM THE BOTTOM!!"). Instead, they stuck three of them on the ground and gave them jobs that, let's face it, could've easily been handled by Robo-Dog. Yeah, he's oddly absent during this subseries, huh? Besides, having each new aerial vehicle carry two pups could've allowed for some fun dialogue during missions, too. Marshall and Zuma can chat while en route, and then Zuma can watch a radar or camera while Marshall's focused on putting out fires. Hey, most planes have a pilot and a co-pilot, right? There are plenty of possibilities!

Sadly, they instead went with something quite questionable. And it's worrisome, given that this could easily happen again under PAW Patrol's new director. Will the next subseries, Fire Rescue, continue this unequal treatment? Will Marshall, Chase and Skye get fancy new firefighting vehicles while Zuma only presses a button to open a garage door, Rocky just puts tools on the new vehicles and sometimes makes repairs, and Rubble gets a smaller vehicle that's designed only to refill the water tanks in said new vehicles? It goes without saying that fans are hoping that's not the case.

Despite my complaints over the last few years, I still like PAW Patrol... but I can't help but shake my head at some of their decisions as of late. It seems like every time the franchise does something good, something bad comes along to drag it down again. They give us Boomer, and then they give us Zuma's plane wash. It's weird.

Given that Marshall's my favorite, I'm hoping Fire Rescue avoids this issue. I really want his subseries to win fans over and give us something great. I don't want to see it become another Air Rescue, which hasn't even concluded yet and it's already left some fans so disappointed.

Well, we do have four 11-minute segments remaining of Air Rescue, so hopefully it'll give the "ground crew" something good to make the idea worth it. Hey, you never know! Let's hope, anyway.

#PAW Patrol #PAWPatrol

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boredandwiredkitty · 9 months ago

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I've been debating weather to post this all in one go or by chapter. But due to how much I want to write I'm probably going to post by chapter. I may eventually post this on AO3 when it's completed so we'll see.

TFP WHEELJACK X IDOL!READER

So far there is no adult content but that doesn't mean it won't be in future chapters. I'll do my best to label those in the future.

Reader is AFAB

I do apologize this chapter is rather short.

Pushing past the exit you walked out the back door of the entertainment center. Getting away from the loud sounds and bright lights. To have your moment of peace in the chaos.

You leaned up against the railing that led down the stairs to the loading dock. Where the equipment crew were unloading lights and all other electronics and costumes for the concert.

Pulling your hat further down in an attempt to shield your face from view. You brought your little vape to your lips and took a long drag. It seeming to be the only thing that helped to calm your nerves.

You hated these moments. You always had the most anxiety before stepping out on stage. Thousands if not millions of eyes on you all at once. All expecting perfection.

You exhaled slowly. Your eyes roaming over the various stage hands and workers muddling about. They were mostly finished and started to filter back inside to finish setting up.

You knew you should probably head back in yourself to start getting prepped but you valued this time to yourself. Where you could relax just a bit before flipping the performer switch. You decided to take one more hit of your vape before getting ready when a truck backed out. Revealing a car you've never seen before. Did it belong to one of the crew? You doubted it considering how unique it looked. Must be hella expensive.

You weren't one to go ogle strangers vehicles but you somehow found yourself down the steps and hovering only a couple feet away.

Well since you were already here why not have a look? What's the harm?

Remembering what you were taught you kept your hands behind your back as you walked around the car. Leaning in closer to get a better look at different things.

"I've never seen something like this before." You breathed out in curiosity.

You tried to glance inside to see if the owner was watching you ogling their ride. That would've been embarrassing.

The tint was too dark to determine so you hoped you didn't just creep someone out. "Sorry for stairing." You mumbled out before backing away. Wanting one last look before you went back inside.

Just as you moved to head back up the stairs you heard the sound of a car door opening. And to your absolute dismay saw a rather handsome man step out.

"I'm so sorry for stairing." You spoke quickly fumbling over your words.

His blue eyes seemed to sparkle. "Don't worry about it. I'm sorta used to it."

"Still though." You rambled awkwardly. Taken aback by the handsome guy standing in front of you.

God did his voice have to ooze sex appeal?!

"So," you began trying to not make it more awkward than it seemed. "What are you doing back here? Are you part of the crew?"

He looked at you quizzically before he followed your line of sight to the trucks backed up towards the building.

"Nah I'm not with them." He spoke.

"Then how did you get in here? It's restricted access. Only the crew and performers are allowed back here."

"I dont know. I was trying to avoid someone and I kinda just ended up back here."

You stared at him scrutinizing. "Yeah sure that's what everyone says." It wouldn't be the first time fans have tried to sneak in through the back way.

He put his hands up in defense. "Hey I'm serious."

In a moment of idiotic bravery you lifted the brim of your hat and pulled of your sunglasses. "Then do you know who I am?" Your heart started to race.

He tilted his head and squinted. The long stare a sign he was trying to think. "Do I need to?"

Your heart nearly burst out of your chest. He didn't recognize you? Was it because you weren't wearing your stage outfit and makeup? Or was he really that clueless? You were one of the singers in a fast rising to stardom idol group. You even did solo tours. Did he really not know who you were?

Your jaw must've been on the floor by the way he staired at you weirdly.

"Sorry I don't recognize you."

You came up to him excitedly and clasped his hands not thinking. "No! No! This is great! Finally someone I can be myself in front of! Oh man I didn't think this would make me this stoked!" You had no idea how nice it was to not be recognized.

"You're welcome I guess?" He chuckled while looking a bit uncomfortable.

"Ah! Sorry sorry!" You exclaimed as you quickly dropped his hands and took a step back. Where were your manners. "Oh I never got your name!" You exclaimed. You stuck out your hand "I'm (name)."

He hesitated for a moment before clasping your outstretched hand. "Call me jack."

"Jack" You reiterated with a warm grin. You took this time to get a good look at him. He didn't appear over 35. But has traces of salt and pepper in his tousled dark hair. It was hard to tell if it was black or brown. But his eyes. Were a gorgeous shade of bright blue. He had a 5 o'clock shadow that seemed to work so well on him. And you could see scars that scattered around his arms and face.

He was just your type. Dark and handsome with a mysterious air about him. A hint of danger.

"I've been meaning to ask." He snapped you out of your thoughts. Pointing to your pocket. "What was that you had earlier?"

"Oh you mean my vape?" You asked while pulling out the little device and held it out to him.

He picked it up carefully to inspect it closer. "Interesting. Looks kinda like something I had back home." He mentioned as he handed it back to you.

"Oh you vape too?" You wouldn't be surprised if he did.

"Not quite but very close." He mused in thought as he watched you slip it back into your pocket.

"You from around here?" You queried hopeful. You really wanted to see him again. There was just something about him.

"Nah I just travel alot." He shrugged casually in response. It wasn't a lie.

You bit your lip. You knew you were being crazy. All of this is crazy. "Well I'll be in Cincinnati next week for my next performance. Maybe I'd see you there too? I could tell the security to let in the white car with the Italian livery." You didn't want this to end. You wanted to ask more questions.

He opened his mouth to speak when you heard the door open behind you and saw your manager poke their head out. "Five minutes." They warned while showing their palm to emphasize the time.

Shit how long were you out there. You didn't have much time left.

Your eyes must've been pleading because he shuffled in discomfort as you looked at him before he let out a sigh with a wry smile. "I guess it wouldn't hurt."

You did a little hop in excitement. "Yes!" You whispered your cheer. The action reminding him of another girl he knew. Maybe the two of you could get along.

You then stuck your hand out again. "I look forwards to seeing you again jack."

"Same here." He spoke as he took yours in his.

#tfp wheeljack x reader #wheeljack x reader #tfp wheeljack #wheeljack #transformers wheeljack #transformers prime #tfp #maccadam #Spotify

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