#i refuse to believe it's been that long

[somethingsgottasaveyou]

can you believe it's almost a year since i screamed "i'm over getting older" at the top of my lungs with alex on my 25th birthday

[bexsld]

Seeing my Wattpad account say “Joined 10 years ago” now instead of “Joined in 2013” makes me feel physically sick

[ruporas]

endless love!

[ID Two drawing collage pages of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun Maximum. In the first collage, top corner, Wolfwood looks upwards disgruntled with a flushed expression, lying against a pillow, as his hair is being pet by Vash's hand. Next shows Vash and Wolfwood from behind, Wolfwood with his top bare and hickies covers around his nape area. Vash lifts hair away from his nape and asks, "More?" Wolfwood nervously says, "No." Next is a side profile of Vash, his arms around Wolfwood from behind while Wolfwood rests his hands against Vash's arms. Next to this are two smaller drawings; Vash turns to Wolfwood and says repetitively, "Wolfwood, Wolfwood..." Wolfwood, not looking at him, says "What?" He finally turns his head and looks shocked as he exclaims, "So close!" Vash says plainly, "You just noticed?" Below these is a drawing of Vash and Wolfwood sitting together as Vash kisses and hugs him from behind with his right arm around Wolfwood's neck and his left hand around his side. He also has his right leg propped against Wolfwood's knee. Bottom of the page has a comic. Wolfwood looks annoyed, speaking to himself, "Where is that idiot?! Need to get out of town before--" A chat bubble exclaims, "Wolfwood!" The next panel shows Vash running from the townspeople, small text saying "Get him! Vash the stampede!". Wolfwood, mad and about to pull the Punisher off his shoulder, says, "Argh, you fucking dumbass!" Vash exclaims, "Ah, don't!" before pulling Wolfwood into a quick kiss. He then tugs on Wolfwood's collar and says, "There's no need to shoot, just run!" Wolfwood stammers, "R-right..." with a flushed, dumbstruck expression.

Second collage; Top left, Wolfwood spoons Vash in bed, his arms around his chest and the other beneath Vash's head. Vash has his hand on top of Wolfwood's as he sleeps while Wolfwood lies awake. Behind this drawing is faint sketches of Vash's face. In a small panel, Wolfwood hides in Vash's neck as he mumbles to himself "Stop. Stop thinking embarrassing things, Wolfwood..." Beneath this drawing is another of them in bed, Vash now turned to Wolfwood and a hand on his cheek as he kisses him good morning. In a simpler style, Vash wraps an arm tightly around wolfwood with the text "snork mimimi" next to him while Wolfwood says, "We need to get up. Spikey! HEY!" In this corner, there are faint sketches of Vash and Wolfwood; one of them looking at each other; Vash kissing Wolfwood's forehead; Wolfwood saying, "Hand" with an outstretch hand and Vash says "ok" behind a drawing of them holding hands, both turned away from each other shyly. Next is a 4 panel comic. First shows Wolfwood's face getting squished by Vash's hands with the text "squish" around his face. Next, his cheeks are stretched with the text "Chee--" Wolfwood then hits Vash's face with his palm, exclaimining "That hurts!" The last shows Vash on Wolfwood's lap, smiling to himself as he continues to have Wolfwood's face in his hands. Next to this is another comic; A close up of their hands, Vash holding Wolfwood's with both of his. He then kisses the palm of Wolfwood's palm and says, "They're soft!" Wolfwood looks at him with flushed cheeks, "There's no way that's true..." END ID]

[mercutio-escalator]

hey conspiracy theorists

[sillywabbits]

~Mushy love! 💕

Finally posting this just in time for my favorite holiday! 💘 Happy Valentine's! 💗💕💕

[toddtakefive]

thinking about todd and his resolve toward… not quite isolation, but being alone in a room full of people again. he goes along to the study room to sit on his own and do his homework, he sits at the poets table and follows along with what’s being said while keeping quiet, he goes to the meetings at all but doesn’t necessarily contribute (in fact, if you watch him when cameron is telling the story ‘from camp in sixth grade’, you can see that he recognizes it before any of the other poets but doesn’t voice it until they all have). he’s not alone, necessarily, if you want to get technical about it, he’s just lonely, and he’s generally okay with that. he doesn’t have friends and that’s fine, he doesn’t participate in class and that’s fine, he doesn’t have a relationship with his family and that’s fine—he could live without any real connection and he’d have been, more or less, fine.

the thing about when he says “i can take care of myself just fine!” is that he isn’t really wrong, you can infer that he’s been doing it his entire life anyway, it’s that ‘taking care of yourself’ isn’t the same thing as really living or being happy. todd’s an introvert, certainly, and even as he gets closer to the group he defaults to sitting quietly in the background, but he’s also denying himself community out of fear not introversion. todd isn’t friendless because he’s an introvert, although that definitely plays a part, he’s friendless because he pushes anyone that might want his company away. if anyone has every wanted for his attention in the first place. (neil’s unwavering interest in him is unique (even when it comes to the rest of the poets, who are fine with todd coming along and joining the group, but aren’t really hellbent on him being there in the beginning) and his refusal to accept it is a direct result of being so lonely growing up.)

there’s obviously something to be said about the implications of his parents neglect, and the more than likely fact that he grew up friendless, and how those both play a part in in him being so skilled at dodging social interaction/being so avoidant of it, but by the time we see him in the movie he’s all but accepted his fate as being alone his entire life. he’s already accepted being the family disappointment, and he’s already accepted he’ll never amount to anything, and he obviously doesn’t like it, but he’d have managed living with that knowledge without the confirmation that it was all wrong. would he have been miserable? almost certainly. but he’d have managed. he’d done it for that long already, anyhow.

[rosegoldenatlas]

Have you ever felt like the passage of time has significantly sped up in recent years? No?

Because I sure feel like it

[ghost-bard]

I've had this theory for a while now, and me n my friend (@nightshadetq ) have talked about it a bit as The Magnus Protocol continues, but I really don't think Alice's indifference to the paranormal/statements/cases ect ect is proof that she like. Has no idea what's going on, or will be in for a rude awakening.

[Note: this post is not free from spoilers up to episode 18]

I think she knows a decent amount of what's actually going on, and is trying to protect Sam (or her uninformed coworkers in general) from getting in too deep.

Other than Lena, who I assume has been the boss since Alice arrived, Alice has worked at the OIAR the longest, "nearly a decade" and has consistently told Sam not to look into anything, to not be curious, and to just do his job, and those moments are when she is the most serious, an odd departure from her typical attitude, very likely a coping or defense mechanism (or survival tactic) on her part.

We also have how she and Colin interact, and her conversation with Teddy in the most recent episode (18 as of writing). While yes, her and Colin's unlikely duo could be in part simply a fun dynamic, grumpy/sunshine, whatever, but we also don't really know what has happened within the last near decade of Alice working at the OIAR. The only person Colin likes is Alice, perhaps because she's the only one he trusts, or maybe they went through something together, that's mostly speculation on my part I'll admit.

What's more interesting is Alice and Teddy's conversation, the weight of Alice calling Teddy a liar, her saying to herself for Teddy to "watch himself" because she's worried. I would point out we have no idea how long Teddy worked at the OIAR, though in episode one there's a mention of "another four years" which implies he's worked there about that amount of time, and so Alice had still worked there the longest.

Honestly it would be weird if Alice hadn't seen weird shit pre-canon given how long she's been there, and that despite the jobs turnover rate hasn't quit despite everything, almost like she's obligated, to the job perhaps not, but maybe to the other people working, given we know that people can and have quit. Of course it could also just be the getting a new job is difficult and she has a younger brother to help out occasionally, but truthfully I find it a bit difficult to believe that being the only reason she wouldn't have quit by now.

Also interesting that the only thing Alice said in response to Gwen talking about Mr. Bonzo, where Sam laughs and thinks she's joking, is after she leaves saying "Curiosity will get you killed, best try and ignore it" wherein Alice clowning on Gwen is what I, at the least, would expect in response. Yes, she questions Gwen interacting with monsters, but she doesn't push her to talk about it, and in fact, gave her an out on what the Externals are.

Considering both Gwen and Sam didn't know about them until 1. Gwen asking Lena to let her "in" and getting work about/for the Externals, and 2. Sam just now being informed. Meanwhile Alice has a fake explanation on what they are, providing Sam with said explanation, therefore shielding him from the truth of the matter, and letting Gwen not have to talk about it, only for Gwen to then say what they actually are. So either Alice already knew what an External was, and lives by the "if you don't know about the real goings on nothing will happen to you" deal and tries to act the part herself, or someone who no longer works at the OIAR AND worked with Externals told her that that was what they were, which I'll admit is also a possibility.

There is also her seeing the drowning victim and her reaction to them. Her primary issue as I remember it was the dead body, given how she implies she hadn't seen a dead body since her parents passed. However, her having a negative reaction to a dead body doesn't mean she hasn't seen other freak shit. There is also the option that she lied about not having seen a dead body since her parents, and she (rightfully) still has an averse reaction to them, though I don't necessarily believe this myself, I am presenting it as an option.

Maybe I'm talking out my ass, but I really don't think Alice has completely avoided everything up until now, especially given how weirdly cagey she is about anyone (mainly Sam, but they have a history so maybe she feels responsible for him in some way) getting curious about what they do, or wanting to look into the cases they receive. If she didn't know anything at all, I don't know why she'd care about someone getting curious about their cases, or at least care as much as she seems to.

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

How can I bribe you into helping me get a job in the industry, other than promising my undying love, which you already have <3

The industry is horrible and awful, low pay, long hours, no real chance of advancing.

Whenever people touring the station or new interns ask me for advice, I always tell them to change careers lol

[toxooz]

been binging tf outa Avatar the last airbender bc ive been puking my EVERLOVIN guts out since yesterday and hear me out

[starsymmetry]

hiikoha fan finally draws hiikoha after 233 days apparently

[dykedvonte]

thinking abt what you said with house viewing Benny as a son and I’m obsessed. Like. The man spent most of his life before the war presumably alone, and then after the bombs fell he was alone again, save for AI he himself devised. Then he decides to pull in some Tribes, and one kid shows promise! So sure, treat him well, train him, groom him to be his protege, then next thing you know UH OH he’s got developing paternal feelings towards this guy. Wanting some semblance of a family when the time has long since passed, yet fostering that feeling all the same seems so accurate for him. Benny meanwhile only views him as a boss, and not a particularly good one at that. makes me wonder how House must’ve felt when he found out about Bennys plans

I view it as House blames only himself for this, cause he kind of does in canon (strap in this is a long one).

When reflecting on the issue of Benny, House chastises himself first and foremost for not acting quickly enough when it comes to priming Benny. He describes Benny as being ambitious, ruthless and capable; compliments coming from a man like House. House has an ego and while he is logical enough to understand there was never any evidence Benny saw him as a father-figure, he lacks the humility to admit he let his own views on his relationship with Benny blind him to the activities happening behind the scenes.

I doubt that House was as aware as he makes out about what Benny was doing, he knew early on but certainly not early enough to stop Benny from hacking and obtaining a securitron along with getting the chip in the first place. I take it he was distracted by all the possibilities he was calculating of Vegas' success and growth with him steering and Benny as the new figure head, not because of any normal affection for Benny but the admiration of his capabilities. It's to be noted that House believed menial incentives (likely caps, booze, basic needs, etc..) were enough to keep Benny tame like the other Chairmen but, as evidenced by the Omertas and Mortimer in the WGS, this is not enough when it comes to more driven Vegas citizens. This implies he still undervalued Benny and created a space in which Benny felt the need to rebel.

House in my eyes is not sentimental in the traditional sense. I can imagine his pride was severely scorned as someone he certainly deemed dumber than him was, albeit only for a little, able to out-gambit him. It would definitely hit home seeing how his brother also betrayed him but I feel like that's why he's so apathetic when he tells the Courier to do as they see fit with Benny. I doubt the way he terrorized his brother brought him any emotional satisfaction other than a "Now who's in charge!" ego boost. Putting that same emotional intensity towards Benny isn't worth it because who does it benefit? Wasted time, wasted planning, and most importantly wasted potential are all he gets from continuing to be hands-on with Benny. I say the closest example is not being able to throw out old toys due to the memories attached but knowing it's necessary as they are broken or just taking up space for new ones, and then asking someone else to do it so you don't need to get caught up in the feelings of throwing something you put so much effort into. It's not Benny House cares about in my mind, not in a way that sounds healthy to any non-emotionally constipated individual, but what he could've represented for him, which is why he so quickly offers the same position to the Courier.

As for Benny's view on all of this, it was a long time coming. Benny didn't and doesn't believe House is a completely shitty boss. He admires what he's been shown and admits House knows how to run the strip, but disagrees with the directions. Ideologically, House is an anarcho-capitalist while Benny is just an anarchist. House wants to run the strip to profit, though money is not what he's concerned with being rich with anymore. Benny wants a free state that he wishes to become a place for the people, except for the Chairmen who would be on top (I like to remind people that Benny's motives were selfish but not for personal gain/power as was it for the people he actually saw as family). Benny was never looking for a father but a future. He was not interested in being adopted, or having the chairmen adopted, as bigger names still overshadowed in House's legacy.

Truly, it's easiest to summarize as House feeling strongly and thinking positively enough of Benny to start incorporating him into the future of Vegas (a huge honor actually) while Benny was so disillusioned by House's ego and indifference that he thought the only way Vegas could be the future is with House gone.

[moonshine-nightlight]

Snapped - Part 4

Mech’s not sure why the aftermath of this mission is hitting him so hard, but he’s doing his best to calm down when Gwen’s presence shatters his control. Now it’s a count down to see if he can figure out how to put a stop to the instincts and hormones that are running wild inside him—before he does something they’ll both regret.

Science fiction, alien romance, male alien x female human, (4 / 4)

Story Status: COMPLETE

AO3: Snapped Chapter 4

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] Part 4 - NSFW

“Who else could it be? There’s no one—” He shakes his head and glares at her, unable to help himself. “There’s only you. Always you.”

Her eyes are wide as she looks at him, genuine shock evident. “Mech…”

The silence that echoes through the room is deafening, even the vents seem subdued in the wake of Mech’s most recent confession. 

It’s only broken when the synthesizer machine beeps, signaling that the compound has been mixed and is ready for use. Mech darts over to it with speed. It’s not going to do enough, he already knows that based on the limited ingredients he has on hand, but it should stabilize the reaction and ideally shorten the duration. 

He refuses to think about anything but the chemistry as he dully loads the dose into a syringe. Shame and fear has crystallized into a shield against the lust raging through his blood that’s proving surprisingly effective. How could he have told her how much he—the sharp prick of the needle as it enters his skin cuts into his train of thought and he lets it. He immediately sets the machine to rigging up another dose. He won’t be able to take it for twelve hours, but hopefully G—hopefully, it can be brought to him wherever he’s isolated.

The diagnostic machine buzzes next and he dutifully walks back over to where it’s been compiling a list of least dangerous medical concoctions to simply knock him out cold. Given how today has gone, he shouldn’t be surprised that nothing has a particularly high chance of either success or safety. As much as he hates this situation, he’s not quite at the level of self-destructive to truly consider taking most of these. Even if he wishes for nothing more than to stop thinking since the ground hasn’t managed to swallow him up.

Movement out of the corner of his eyes causes him to turn sharply. Gwen’s been silent since she said his name in that quietly devastated tone in reaction to his confession. Now he sees she’s taken a step closer for some gods forsaken reason out of her self imposed corner.

“Stay back,” he hisses even as she walks even closer. And gods, is this dose even doing anything? He swears her scent is heavier, more enticing—richer and more appealing in every way. It reaches him with no trouble despite the vents still pulling air out and away from him and her downwind. She looks even more beautiful, her eyes dark and her blue skirt fluttering around her enticingly. “I told you.”

“Hush,” she chides gently. She walks even closer, with a look in her eyes he can’t fathom. Her hair dances in the breeze too, looking thick and touchable, her figure inviting him to see how soft her skin likely is, to imagine it yielding to–

Frantically, he reaches for outrage or worry or anything other than arousal in reaction to her approach. Where is her sense of self-preservation? He backs up, spines hitting the door behind him. “Do you want to leave?” he asks, grasping at straws. Why wouldn’t she say so? They could find some way to shift around the room while maintaining proper distance. He’s told her what state of his mind is. She can’t expect him to understand what she wants from him when his instincts have such a strong hand on the controls of his imagination. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. 

“Do you want me?” she asks, her eyes intent as she takes another step closer. “Without all this,” she gestures with her delicate hand in a circle as if to encompass the room or his heightened state, “do you want to be with me?”

There’s no point beating around the bush anymore, is there? Even if he thought he’d been plenty clear before, he supposes she wants to hear it outright. “Yes,” Mech admits, hanging his head because now she knows it's his fault his instincts picked her. If he hadn’t already thought of her like this, when she saw him only as a friend, then maybe this, this break wouldn’t have happened. “For…” He shakes his head, unable to remember when his feelings became something other than platonic. “I don’t know why today pushed me over the edge, but I promise I can get back under control.” He can’t lose her, not from something so abrupt and uncontrollable. “I can,” he insists desperately.

Her face softens and she must feel some sympathy for him. Gwen’s one of the most compassionate people he’s ever met, surely she can forgive him for this. “Oh, Mech, you silly alien.” She steps even closer and before he can react, her hand lands on his cheek. It feels electric, each point of contact. His worry and frustration and shame all war with his hormones with her so close. His claws dig back into the wall, venom pools in his mouth, every nerve and muscle in his body straining for her held in check only by sheer force of will. “I don’t want you to.”

“W-” Her lips on his silence whatever protest he was going to attempt to utter. His whole brain skitters to a halt, unable to do anything except stay perfectly still and process what’s happening with every sense. Her lips are warm and soft, pressed with perfect pressure against his half-open mouth. Was he saying something? Her wonderful, delicious scent envelops him completely until there isn’t anything except Gwen. Her hand on his cheek is the comfort of home and hearth. The little stroke of her thumb on his cheek is everything he’s ever wanted.

This perfect moment is all his raging hormones need to take over. Mech has Gwen pushed up against the door within a second. He splays one hand around her hip, holding tight as his other hand laces with her free hand to pin it to the wall. He sucks her lower lip into his mouth as he presses every inch of his body he can manage to keep her there. The ache of his cock finally has some friction to satiate it. His whole body sings with relief, the itch and pull and desperation blissfully satisfied with the contact with his mate. Or rather, his soon to be mate. 

With that thought in mind, he skillfully takes control of the kiss, needing to show her exactly why she should choose him. Why he deserves her regard. He shall prove his worth as a kisser and therefore a lover so she’ll have no doubt in her mind that he should be hers. He can’t resist a more substantial taste of her regardless. Mech slides his tongue carefully and deliberately between her lips to slide against her own. He loses himself in the kiss, in giving and taking in as equal measure as well as he can handle when confronted with the reality of her hot, inviting mouth.

Mech distantly remembers humans' more limited lung capacity and pulls back to trail kisses down her neck, questing for where it meets her shoulder. His jaw opens, fangs dripping and scraping along her heaving body. Gwen whines and pants as he touches her and he never wants to be anywhere else doing anything else ever again. He can only think as far into the future as to picture her with his marks on her and his blood boils with desire.

“Mech…” It’s his own naked wonder at hearing Gwen moan his name that breaks through the haze of lust and hormones and instinct to remind him of exactly what situation they’re in. How nothing he’s ever done with his life would have granted him such bliss.

He wrenches his mouth from hers with all the self-control he likes to pretend he has. Panting, breathing in lungfuls of her scent with her still pressed tight to him nearly undoes that, but he holds fast. He can’t get himself to break from her further, but he just needs her to tell him, needs her to reset the boundaries before he goes too far, before he ruins her and himself in the process. 

A puff of fresh air from the vent above allows him to latch back on to his more rational objections. “I don’t need your pity,” he practically spits, doing his best to find something that can force him to back off and salvage their relationship before he’s doomed it with his rash actions and clouded judgment. Luckily, it is an almost sobering thought—the idea of being with Gwen only to have her reveal she put up with his advances solely in an attempt to help him. That would destroy him.

Instead of helping him, Gwen’s eyes flash with incandescent, fierce anger. She shifts in his grip, not letting go or trying to escape his grasp as might be sensible, but to maneuver him where she wants him. She hitches herself up and then grinds down against his thigh now between her legs. She practically growls in relief as the thin skirt she wears and even the thicker fabric of his trousers do nothing to disguise the heat and wetness he feels against him.

“Gwen,” he gasps in true shock even as his body quickly angles his thigh to an even more advantageous position. His instincts are hyper-focused, straining to satisfy his mate in any way she wants him to.

“Does that feel like pity?” she demands, groaning as he moves and tightening her grip on him. “I want you,” she says plainly and everything in him comes to a halt for the second time in a minute. His eyes faintly glowing red ones frantically meet her own. They’re dilated, black swallowing up brown, but her sincerity, the raw honesty in them is crystal clear. “I want you bad. Have done for a while now.”

“Fuck, Gwen,” is all he can manage to almost whine as his mind frantically tries to make sense of the impossible.

She smirks in response, head ducking close to manage a nip at his lower lip and a lick to one of his fangs. Her eyelids flutter at the taste of his venom as she breathes, “Yes, exactly. I need you.” 

He can’t help but give her what she asks, what she needs. Why in the universe that's an ornery, suspicious, antisocial bastard like him, he doesn’t know. But he’s lost the will to keep fighting her. He chases after her mouth, his chest an iron wall against her own slighter, softer one. She doesn’t seem to mind being caged in by his hand, still pinned as his thigh has her hips. She just grinds closer, releasing hitching little breaths and moans as his venom mixes with her saliva. 

His silvery venom is primarily deadly only on his planet, but plenty of other species have reactions to it. Some it numbs, some it hurts, and others it heals. Humanity seems most varied in their reaction, but his understanding is that it tends to fizzle, to buzz. After all, theirs is a race that poisons itself recreationally, sought out toxic plants for the sting to add to their diet, and regularly ingests powerful drugs most races take in only the smallest of doses. However Gwen’s personal chemistry might feel about it, at least it's nothing terrible enough to break their kiss.

In fact, their kiss only breaks when she runs out of air and tips her head back to breathe. He lets go of her pinned hand, an absent minded extra push before he does to tell her to leave it there, and skims his hand down her flank, strokes across the swell of her stomach. She’s so plush and warm under his fingerpads especially through the cutouts of her dress. His claws snag in the material that does cover her. He can’t retract them. He resists the urge to cut through the fabric still keeping the rest of her lovely skin from him, resists the urge to dig his claws in enough to leave a lasting mark, showing any who might look upon her that she had allowed him the luxurious indulgence of touching her.

It reminds him he still might lose sight of his strength, of everything until it was too late. And Gwen doesn’t deserve this, rutting against the medbay wall while he’s out of his mind. She deserves to be courted and treated and to be laid down reverently in a bed of silk. He should be able to touch her without worrying his darker impulses will overtake him and hurt her. “Not in a sane state of mind to do this right,” he growls out in frustration. His head nuzzles into the crook of her shoulder as even in his irritation he can’t resist the allure of the comfort Gwen offers his soul so effortlessly.

“It's you and me,” Gwen replies, her voice sure, “‘course this is right.” She pulls his face out from where he’s hiding so she can meet his gaze. “You think I don’t know what I’m asking for?” her voice is cajoling and challenging, “I dreamed of you, pressed against me just, like, this.” She punctuates each word with a roll of her hips.

He tries to claw back a hold on his senses. He knows he should, knows no matter her words, Gwen doesn’t know. But she’s intent on wrecking him. “Need you to fuck me now, Mech.”

He snaps his teeth together, baring his fangs as his whole body tenses with the urge to do just that. “Gwen,” his voice is strangled. “For graviels, you don’t know what mating—”

“But I do,” she insists. 

“No,” he shakes his head. “You don’t.” He tries desperately to find the words to explain, but there’s only Gwen. His hands clench tighter in the fabric of her dress and he dares not look down for the tears that have to have accompanied the ripping sound. The fabric is no longer covering her well, but hopefully it’s still enough to keep his claws and venom away from her skin. His eyes track a bead of sweat that drips down her neck. He longs to stop it with his tongue. He longs to sink his teeth into where it pools on the curve of her shoulder.

“Yeah, I do.” Gwen finally sounds serious. “I looked it up.” His eyes snap to her own. She raises an eyebrow. “You think I’ve wanted you this long and not investigated what it would be like?” No, he hadn’t. He’d never even thought she might feel the same, might want this too. Had she really done so? He can almost picture her in her bunk, hair twirled around one finger as she scrolls through articles and stories about the rare couplings of human and graviel. He knows they’re out there because he checked too. “How compatible we might be? I want you and all you come with, no matter the scars. Want you so damn much.”

“Gwen.” There’s awe in his voice he can’t control. Even when humans aren’t put off by the venom and how it feels, many are at how it factors into graviel mating. How it seals over the scratches and bites and marks his kind like to leave on their mates, not too deep, but guaranteed to leave permanent marks. 

Her only reply is to grind against the thigh still between her legs. His tail winds itself up her leg to stroke her upper thigh before adjusting her to an even more advantageous position. There is a fearsome look on her face, as if she feels like she’s made more than enough allowances for his anxieties and fears. Like she’s done waiting. “Gonna fuck me, Mech?” Her smirk is wicked, the look in her eyes even more so. Her hair is spread in a messy halo around her head, her skin starting to sparkle with sweat, her body never ceasing its movement, its gentle undulation against his own. He’s never seen her eyes look so dark or so appealing. She looks edible. She arches with the motion of her grind  and one of her hands reaches blindly behind her, finds the doorpad. “Or do I need to find someone else to?”

Something inside him roars at her direct challenge. Maybe it was more than an internal roar because she shudders in response. There’s triumph in her eyes at his reaction. If she’s aware enough to provoke him… The last piece clicks into place and he finally takes her at her word, That she wants him. He’s got no resistance left. 

All he has is a need to make her his in any way he can. In every way he can. 

“Mine,” he growls as he takes her mouth in a ferocious kiss, hands already ripping her dress to shreds and stripping her of it. He barely notices her own hands scrambling at his shirt except that the feeling of her hand splayed over his stomach is nearly as euphoric as his hand closing around her breast. 

“Wanna mark you,” Mech warns. The urge to properly mark his mate as taken, as his is pure instinct. To leave physical evidence of everything boiling over inside him on her skin is overwhelming.

Gwen’s rucked his shirt up high enough that she can reach up, set her nails to his shoulder blades, and rake her nails down his back. The sharp pressure, the surprising sting of her nails, and lingering feeling of her touch send if possible even more blood rushing to his throbbing cock. He groans, arching into her claim. “Yes. Long as I can mark you too.”

“Perfect,” he says reverently into the skin of her neck where he presses a kiss and sucks a mark. “How are you so—”

Her moan of approval as he begins to knead to soft flesh of her breast under his hand is muffled by his lips back where they belong on hers. He grinds his palm down on her nipple and before long his eyes are fixed on where the claws of that hand just barely scrape against her skin. It becomes pink and sensitive as she squirms under his attention.

His claw finally breaks the skin right over where her heart pounds furiously. A short red scratch that he traces back over, venom running into it. She trembles in his arms with a whine as the cut seals shut, the line a subtle white against her skin. A glance in her eyes, fogged over in pleasure, is all the reassurance he needs. He latches onto her other breast with his mouth, allowing his venom to encase her nipple as he sucks. He twists his grip, claws scraping and healing as he does so around her other breat. Gwen practically screams her pleasure to the ceiling, to the whole damn ship if he’s lucky.

Mech wants everyone to know Gwen is getting the pleasure she deserves nearly as much as he wants them to know he’s the one giving it to her. He brings his fangs down to bear, gazing and abrading her soft soft skin. Gwen whimpers. He’d be concerned if the sound wasn’t also accompanied by the wet slick against his thigh increasing. 

Her hands scrabble at his back and her head thunks against the door as she arches, pressing her chest into him with another gasp of his name.

The sound galvanizes him. Somehow finally giving into his desires has helped the fog in his brain caused by this hormonal snap clear. The door isn’t going to let him ravish her the way he craves. He doesn’t want to be distracted by keeping her held up against it when there are far better things he could be focusing on.

He reluctantly lets go of her breast to grip at her hips again with both hands. She whines when he lets go of her tender nipple with his mouth to trail up to her shoulder. Her whole body tenses when the threat of his fangs are brought to bare, like she’s holding her breath. Still she doesn’t do anything more than whimper when he removes his damp thigh from between her legs, hanging pliantly in his firm hold. 

Gwen’s fingers wind their way into his hair, firm but not tugging in protest—yet. Before she can ask about the sudden stop to the way she’d been grinding herself to some sort of peek, he pulls her off the wall with a grunt. Lifting his head to remind himself of what exactly he’s working with in the medbay, he strides over to the bed in the center of the room where Gwen had been sitting only twenty minutes ago, distracting him while he tried in vain to solve this problem any other way than through.

He’ll bring her to his rooms once they’ve mated here, maybe more than once depending on their stamina and his hunger. This’ll do fine for now. She looks gorgeous, Mech thinks as he lays her out. He pulls the remaining scraps of her dress off. His eyes trace the goosebumps that spring up after he backs off with fascination as he methodically begins to strip himself. Gwen seems more than understanding and is eagerly removing the last of her clothing—her panties—with a quickness that betrays her own need. The scent that flows out of her is nearly enough to bring him to his knees. But there’ll be time for that later.

Gwen props herself up on her elbows to watch him with half-lidded, ravenous eyes. His eyes keep straying to her chest, already bearing the red and white marks from his fangs and his claws. He’s never been more proud of anything in his life than that she let him mark her as such. He’s never giving her up.

“I don’t share,” Mech says bluntly as he places a hand next to her hip. He isn’t arguing or retreating or trying to back out anymore. This is at worst a warning, at most a promise.  “This can’t be a one-time thing. I won’t change my mind, not about you. I’ll keep you all to myself.”

“Yes,” Gwen agrees easily. She lays back down while reaching for him, the invitation in the lines of her body obvious. Her fingers wrap around his forearm, the black spines that line it, and there’s no give to her hold. “Mine.”

He vaults onto the bed, over her, without thought and she welcomes him. Her hands map every inch of his skin she can reach, no fear at the way his black spines lining back and arms are standing at attention. Gwen’s touch starts off light as he arranges himself over her, but once he brings their lips together for another mind-melting kiss, she increases the pressure. Mech can feel each point of contact, each finger tip, as she digs them in and drags her nails connecting th black splotches that litter his red skin. 

Mech pictures his skin turning from red to pink, lightning from the force she’s exerting to try to mark him and he grows harder if at all possible. He ruts against her upper thigh with greater intent, getting impatient. All the relief from this much contact finally not enough to satiate his hunger for his mate. His Gwen.  

She must notice because she hums with smug satisfaction into the kiss and those same fingers start to migrate from his back to rest low on his hips. “Gwen,” he groans, pulling back from her lips just far enough to pant her name against her lips. 

Her fingers brush his cock in a deliberate tease, one he’s past having patience for. His hips chase those fingers for a more purposeful grip. Luckily, she seems unwilling to play this game any longer either. Her fingers wrap around him. “Yeah?” her voice is rough with desire and every nerve in his body sings at the sound, at her touch. She strokes down, from root to tip, seemingly not put off by the black ridges and bumps his red cock has that he knows humans don’t. She must really have done her—Mech’s thoughts scatter when she twists her fingers, lubricated by pre-cum the same silver as his venom which leaks from his erection. She grinds the palm of her hand against the sensitive head and he arches his back with a moan that feels like it's pulled straight from the depths of him.

“Fuck, Mech,” Gwen pants, eyes darting from his face to his cock and everywhere in between, clearly unable to decide where to look while Mech just tries to keep his eyes open so he doesn’t miss a second of his wildest dreams coming true right underneath him. “You’re gonna feel so good inside me, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Mech hisses even as he presses down on her shoulder, moving up to position himself for just that. “Need to be inside you now.”

“Yeah,” Gwen agrees, lining him up with perfect precision. “Now, now, fuck, n—”

Her words are cut off when she moans as he sinks into her welcoming wet heat. She gasps as he pulls her legs open further with his tail, lifting her ass off the bed to angle his thrust home best. He can’t think about anything except how good she feels, how hot and snug and perfect she is. He thinks he babbles some of that aloud as he pushes in. “So wet, so soft. Fuck, Gwen.”

“Ye-es,” she replies back, eyes closed to better savor the feeling of him filling her in one long inexorable movement. She hooks her leg around his for better stability and he takes advantage immediately. Pushing that much further in, massaging her ass with the hand he has on it, letting his claws dig in to her yielding flesh. She groans at the pinpricks of sensation from his claws and venom, from him finally hilting deep within her.

There’s a split second where there’s nothing but the sound of their labored breathing and the whoosh of the vents. The calm before the storm. Everything outside of them ceases to exist as every hormone is his body cries out in triumph. Mech’s eyes meet hers and he ignites once more. He pulls out halfway, but he can’t seem to exist outside of her anymore and quickly thrusts back in, adding a grind to the end that makes Gwen moan deeply. Her hands land on his shoulders as she pushes against him, matching his movements with a synchronicity he never should have doubted she was capable of.

Her palms push on his own chest for leverage and he gasps at how it feels against his nipples. Gwen picks up on his reaction immediately, her focus zeroing in on her new target. Mech bows his head, overwhelmed by all the sensation his touch-starved body isn’t used to. That of course brings his mouth within range of her delectable neck, all that lovely skin and sweat and scent, all uniquely Gwen. He laves his tongue along her collarbone, fangs grazing and mouth sucking in a random, hazy, instinctual pattern that seems to drive her wild if the way she clenches around him is anything to go by.

“So close, so close, so close,” Gwen chants, her hands moving to his spines, holding on tight to ride out how roughly he’s fucking her with his pistoning cock. The ache of her grip is sweet enough his next thrust has an extra swivel of his hips behind it. “Mech! Mech, please. Please.”

He knows exactly what she’s begging for and he’d rather die than let her go unsatisfied. His tail finds and grinds against her clit with unerring accuracy despite the  desperate motion of their coupling. Her reaction nearly throws him over the edge, the throbbing of her walls around his cock exquisite in their increased intensity. Mech preserves through the sensation, determined to make Gwen come before he does.

Luckily, it only takes a few more strokes and making a calculated tug on her clit for her to call out, “Yes! Me-ch!” The final strands of his self-control snap and he comes on the next thrust, his cock and fangs buried deep in his claimed mate. The ensuing euphoria blanks his mind from anything other than pleasure and he slumps against Gwen, satisfaction flowing through his veins.

Mech eventually comes to and finds himself carefully lapping at the bite mark he made on her shoulder, his venom already having closed the wounds, but leaving them sensitive if Gwen’s hums and twitches of pleasure are any indication. Her hands are running absently up and down his arms and limp spines, sending ripples of residual pleasure through him.

He’s never felt this content before, wrapped around this wonderful woman, still buried in her. He can still feel the unusual lust swimming through his body, but it's more than manageable at the moment. All he wants to do is enjoy this culmination of everything he never thought he would get to have.

Of course, that gratification and laziness only lasts so long. Gwen starts to stir more coherently beneath him and that insatiable desire begins to make itself known once more. 

“Are you hard again?” Gwen’s voice breaks the stillness, bewildered and still sounding a little orgasm-drunk.

“Yes,” he acknowledges, pressing a sheepish kiss to her neck.

She shifts, muscles clenching and relaxing. Mech fights the urge to whimper as she asks, more curiously than anything, “Is that a graviel thing or a mating frenzy thing?”

“I can’t remember,” he admits as a few seconds contemplation where all he can think of is how good she feels and what other marks he wants to leave on her. “Might just be a sex-with-you thing.”

“Hm, good answer.” Gwen rolls her hips, mouth nipping at his neck with a promise that sends anticipatory shivers down his spines as they stand at attention once more. “You’ve got five seconds to roll us over so I don’t knock us to the floor. I wanna be on top this time.”

“Whatever you want, my mate.”

[stormikitty]

My Parents: We didn't know you were interested in archery!

Me: *broke a ridiculous amount of clothing hangers as a little kid pretending they were bow and arrows* Literally how???

[bonesblackheadrotten]

mc is wrong for assuming that trystan would go back to ny with them (unless they've had this convo before which i don't think they did?) and trystan is also kind of wrong for thinking that mc would stay but only because we should all know that mc won't ever quit being a pi in new york.

i was really excited for book 2, even tho i realized we were gonna have to do this whole drama, but now that we're actually doing it for real...