#of various size and function

[wawamouse]

I’ll be like “no I don’t really care for non canon setting AUs” but then out of the blue I’ll be like “I could see Chico as a space travel flight attendant tbh” and that’s pretty much what brain rot is I guess

[impossibledazebeard]

CaseClear Mens Vintage Quilted Jackets for Men

[apnashowrooms]

Apna Showroom presents the Plastic Hair Clutcher for Women – a Combo of 12 Pieces in vibrant multicolour. Crafted from high-quality durable plastic, these medium-sized clips offer a firm grip to hold your hair comfortably all day. Perfect for daily wear, casual outings, or office use, these claw clips prevent hair breakage while adding style. Lightweight and easy to carry, they complement various hairstyles and outfits effortlessly. A must-have hair accessory for every woman seeking both function and fashion.

[emergencyplumbingil]

Sewer Ejector Pump.

When it comes to problems with a sewer ejector pump, there are a few common causes to consider. Some of these include:

Clogs: The most common cause of problems with sewer ejector pumps is the buildup of debris, grease, and other substances that can clog the pump or its pipes. This can obstruct the flow of wastewater and potentially lead to pump failure.

Power issues: Sewer ejector pumps rely on electricity to function. Electrical problems, such as a tripped circuit breaker or a faulty motor, can cause the pump to stop working or experience reduced performance.

Float switch malfunctions: Sewer ejector pumps typically have a float switch that senses the level of wastewater in the pump basin. If the float switch is not operating correctly, it may fail to activate the pump or cause it to run continuously, leading to potential issues.

Mechanical failures: Over time, various mechanical components of the sewer ejector pump can wear out or break. For example, impellers can become damaged or worn, resulting in reduced pumping capacity or failure.

Incorrect installation or sizing: If the sewer ejector pump is installed improperly or its capacity is not properly matched to the demands of the system, it can result in operational issues.

It's important to regularly inspect and maintain your sewer ejector pump to prevent these common problems. If you're experiencing difficulties, it may be necessary to consult a professional plumber or technician for proper troubleshooting and repair.

Phone 224-754-1984

[felidae-sims]

Sims 2 Databases Database

(Alright it's an index, I just had to)

Made it for myself, I might as well share. If there's something I've missed please let me know. This list is being updated, Tumblr is being a pain and updates won't show up on re-blogs. Visit the original post to view the most current version. Mirror: Dreamwidth.

CC:

By Type:

Sims 2 - Object Default Database [Discontinued - DW].

Sims 2 - Object Default Database [Active - Spreadsheet].

Sims 2 - [CAS] Default Database.

Sims 2 - Hair Database.

Sims 2 - CC: Afro Hairstyles.

Sims 2 - Shoes Database.

Sims 2 - EA Store Items 2016.

Sims 2 - The Maxis Match Repository Project [CAS] [Pinterest Ver.]

Sims 2 - Repository Finds [CAS&Objects] [sorted into categories].

Sims 2 - Functional Finds [Sorted by function].

Resource list: Clutter and decorative items [massive index at GoS].

Sims 2 - Wall Hanging Decor Recolors Database [New!].

Sims 2 - Lot Database [Maxis ones emptied out].

Sims 2 - Lot Makeover Database [of Maxis Lots] [Note the Uploading Tutorial].

SkyBox/Horizons/Skylines Database.

Maxis Career Conversions TS1+3+4 to TS2 [Sorted by Game&EP - Under Downloads].

Fractured Moonlight's Stone Super Set Database [Creator Unknown, let me know if you know].

By Theme:

List of Maxis Lost & Found Objects Converted into Usable Items.

Stories to Sims 2 Conversion Database. [DW Backup]

TS1 to TS2 Conversion/Recreation Database.

TS1 to TS2 Catalog Conversions [Active, Includes OG Object Descriptions].

TS3 to TS2 Conversion Database [DW Backup].

TS3 to TS2 Traits Project Mod Tracking Sheet [Blog Ver.]

TS4 to TS2 CAS Conversion Archive [EA].

TS4 to TS2 CC Clothing Conversion Database [Custom - ts4 only?].

TS4 to TS2 Build/Buy Conversion Database [EA].

TS4 to TS2 CC Build & Buy Database [Custom].

The Sims spin-off games to the PC TS2 [&3+4].

TSM-to-TS2 Conversion Database [DW Backup].

Sims 2 Historical Finds [CAS&Objects] [Sorted by Era/Period].

Historical Sims 2 Wiki [New!].

Grunge Masterlist Project 2025.

List of Asian Sims 2 Sites With Working Downloads [As of 2017?].

CC Archives:

Sim Archive Project, at The Internet Archive [Introduction Post].

Sims Cave.

Sims Graveyard.

Simblr.cc - Dead-Site Repository.

Liquid Sims - Community Archives.

The Booty, at PSMBD.

Sims 2 Packrat, on Tumblr [Watch out for the recent SFS Hacking problem].

Ekrubynaffit (a.k.a bestbuild4sims) has re-uploaded a lot of archives of defunct creators. Albums with DL on her pinterest. Mainly build and buy mode, thanks a lot!

Resources:

CEP-Extras List, Huge Lunatic at Sims 2 Artists.

The Sims 2 Tutorials Database [Active] (Really needs a backup outside of Tumblr).

Several Lists of Maxis Resources for Modding,Pick'n'Mix Mods, own website, under Notes.

Sims 2 GUID Database Revival (Yes I'm shamelessly promoting it).

Sims 2 Trait GUID Database, by FireFlower.

Sims 2 Painting Sizes Database.

List of all Color Actions, With DL, ZeroDark/Graphic at GoS.

List of all WSO Actions, by Blue Heaven Sims, under Resources.

List of Hacks & Mods That Use Tokens, Bulbizarre at MTS.

Giant List of Simlish Fonts - Collect ‘Em All!, by franzillasims.

Masterlists of Recolouring Templates; MTS [+Cloning] | Hafiseazle | ZreoDark [not a list but a tag].

Index of Effects Names & Definitions [+ Guide], by AmmarAskar at GitHub.

Update notes are under the cut:

Update: Custom Clothing Conversion db [4t2], by @brandinotbroke/ Hair db, by @krabbysims/ Sims 4t2 CAS Conversion Archive [EA], by @mdpthatsme/ CEP-Extras List, by @hugelunatic/ Lists of Maxis Resources for Modding, by @picknmixsims/ Sims 2 Tutorials db [Active], by @sims2tutorials/ Sim Archive Project at The Internet Archive, by various - see @simnostalgia. Update 1: added EA ts2 store items at GoS/ Painting sizes db/ Tutorials db, by @sims2tutorials. Update 2: GUID db Revival. Update 3: believe it or not, there's more - Shoes db/ Sims 2. Functional Finds [sorted by function], by @sims2functionalfinds. Update 4: Resource list: Clutter and decorative items, at @gardenofshadowssims. Update 5: added archives section. Update 6: added @ekrubynaffit's Pinterest Archive. Update 7: Fixed TSM link, added Stories db/ Afro Hairstyles db, by @letomills/ SkyBox/Horizons/Skylines Database, by @simmergetic/ Grunge Masterlist Project 2025, by @pixeldolly/ and DW backup links (Everything that's exclusively on Tumblr/LJ should be backed somewhere else). Update 8: List of Asian Sims 2 Sites With Working Downloads [as of 2017?] by @0201-sims. Update 9: added Sims 2 Repository Finds [sorted into categories], by @sims2repositoryfinds. Update 10: added Sims 2 Object db [Discontinued], because the more the better. Update 11 Yet another (!): The Maxis Match Repository Project [CAS], by @whattheskell [how did i forget?]/ TS3 to TS2 Traits Project Mod Tracking Sheet, by  Rowena Sims & @noodlebelli. Update 11: Maxis Career Conversions TS1+3+4 to TS2 [Sorted by Game&EP - Under Downloads], by @sims2idea-lientebollemeis2i. Update 12: HS I found another one: List of all Color Actions - Names, Creators, and Download Links. Maintained for over a decade by @zerographic at GoS :P Update 13: separated by type & theme. added Sims 2 Historical Finds [CAS&Objects] [Sorted by Era/Period], by @ts2history. Update 14: added to resources Trait GUID db, by @fireflowersims. Update 15: I shit you not, there's more - Sims 2 Lot Makeover db [Maxis Lots], by @ts2lotmakeoverdb/ List of Hacks & Mods That Use Tokens, Bulbizarre at MTS/ TS1 Catalog Conversions [Active], by @kitteninthewindow/ WSO Action Masterlist, by Blue Heaven Sims under Resources. Update 16: List of Maxis Lost & Found Objects Converted into Usable Items, @kirlicues. Update 17: Sims 2 Lot db [Maxis ones emptied out], by @mikexx2 @mrsktrout @ts2lots. Update 18: Historical Sims 2 Wiki [New!], by @theacmecatalogblog. Update 19: under archives; Simblr.cc - Dead-Site Repository by @simblrcc-site. Jackpot! Update 20: added Giant List of Simlish Fonts - Collect ‘Em All!, by @franzillasims. Update 21 [can't believe there's more]: Masterlists of Recolouring Templates; MTS [+Cloning] | @hafiseazale | @zerographic [not a list but a tag]. Update 22(!): Index of Effects Names & Definitions [+ Guide], by AmmarAskar at GitHub. Update 23: added Sims 2 - Wall Hanging Decor Recolors Database [New!], by @sims-for-semi

[dcxdpdabbles]

I found and read this cute story on AO3, about Frostbite being Danny's legal parental guardian. In the story Bruce Wayne runs into Frostbite (in his full yeti glory no disguise) who is setting up for school bake sale. Got me thinking about what if Danny's past rogues took turns filling in and doing parental stuff especially at school functions. Like Frostbite does the bake sale, Pandora shows up for his games, Ghostwriter goes to all of the PTA meetings, Clockwork goes to teacher meetings, so on and so forth.

The 43rd Annual Gotham Academy Bake Sale by Faeriekit

Ohhh, that sounds good! I'll get it a read when I have some time. Thank you for the rec!

Danny Fenton is one of the lucky few who have a very involved household. His various family members would always sign up for any school event the boy needed support in. It didn't mean that the boy won everything, but as a teacher for nine years, Emily has come to learn how much it mattered to just have someone show up.

She had seen students whose entire faces light up after spotting someone in the crowd in the same amount she saw a student's hope crumble after they scanned the room.

Danny was a polite young man, a bit on the shyer side, but kind and not a troublemaker, his previous school had her believe. If anything, he seemed to struggle with fitting in, but no students blatantly disliked him.

The general opinion of Danny matched, as her students would say, "I know him from class, but I don't really talk to him. He seems cool though".

Maybe that's why so many people were supposed by his family to march into the auditorium during Danny's talent show. Seeing him wave at the row before starting his gymnastic act had been such a surprise.

Now, Gotham wasn't a close-knit community, not with the size of their city and the millions of people living within it, but everyone would have noticed that Danny was adopted.

After all, he was the only one that wasn't glowing or a large humanoid animal. They cheered the loudest among the crowd; uncaring Danny got bronze- having lost to Joey's tapping dancing for second and Damian's spectacular multi-instrumental cover of a meme song for first place- and Danny beamed back at them.

Gotham was known for not being meta-friendly, but that was only due to a few mean people who shouted the loudest on media outlets. Many of Emily's students were meta, had family that were meta, or knew someone meta. It wasn't a common enough trait one would encounter a meta on every outing, but you would see them in Gotham well enough.

Everyone knew, but no one said it out loud. In the same way, she knew which students' parents were in the country illegally but worked harder than anyone else. Saying anything would help the cops, or worse, the rich running Gotham.

Even the most prejudiced Gothamite would rather be spat on then give them aid. And those who were so prejudiced to help the poor man's enemies, well, Emily has lived here long enough to know they vanished rather quickly. The smart ones kept their mouths shut.

No one could forget what happened to that guy who accidentally insulted Penguin. His grandmother had been an illegal immigrant on his mother's side.

No one messed with that side of the family.

"Hello, Mrs. Jackson." Danny's adoptive father, Dr. Frostbite said, ducking down to avoid banging his head on the door. On one of his shoulders was a box of hotdog wieners; on the other were multiple bags of bread. "I'm here for my snack bar shift."

Emily tilts her head back to look the Yeti in the eye. He had been shocked the first time they met, but she could admit that Dr. Frostbite was a relatively gentle and wise soul. "Welcome aboard. The girls are just about to take the field. You can put that down by the crock pot over there."

The mountain of white fur brushes by her with the grace of a king as Dr. Frostbite does as she says. There were no customers at the window, so she leaned on the counter and offered him a smile. "Did you enjoy the game?"

"Yes. I was saddened our team did not win, but Danny hit a home run." Dr. Frostbite's sharp smile could have been frightening if he wasn't oozing parental pride. "I caught it all on video."

Emily opens her mouth to respond when a hand lands loudly on the counter with a loud crack. Her heart leaps, and she looks into Danny's Ember. She isn't one of Emily's students, though she does appear to be a teenager in appearance.

You know. If it wasn't for her hair made of fire. Or her blue skin. Or her glow.

"I set a boy on fire," She announces with a cackle.

"That's so?" Dr. Frostbite gently rips open the box, taking out the hotdog packages. With one large claw, he rips a hole into it and lets the few weiners slide into the crockpot with a gentle splash. "What did he do?"

"Tried to slap me on the butt." She huffs, rolling her eyes, but her smirk doesn't lose an edge of smugness.

"Well done." Dr. Frostbite praises placing the lid back on. It always surprised Emily to see such careful actions from the large creature. "I assume you did so out of Pandora's line of sight?"

"Naturally. I don't want her lecturing me in front of the whole community." Ember scoffs, crossing her arms. Behind her, the top of Pandora's head can be seen swinging side to side over the dugout, keeping an eye on the ball.

She was the best volunteer referee because even the parents knew not to shout insulting things when she was present. Emily doesn't think she has had such peaceful games in a long while. Hopefully, Danny will try out again for baseball next year so the woman can return.

"Oh hey, you're Danny's English teacher, right? Mrs. Johnson?" Ember asks, leaning on the counter to give Emily a curious look.

When the blond nods, holding out her hand for a shake. "That's right. It's nice to see you again, Ember."

The girl's hair flairs a little as a grin grows on her face. Her hand is ice cold to the touch, but she's got a firm grip that her husband would appreciate. "Likewise. I got a message for you from Ghostwriter. He sent the notes for the last PTA meeting to you and the revision playwright for the musical you two were working on."

Emily's mood brightens up. "That's wonderful. Could you tell him I'll check it out when I get home and get to my laptop since my phone broke in the last Two-Face attack?"

Ember's hair flickers in the wind when she nods, but Danny bounces right up behind her just as she opens her mouth to speak. He's wearing his Gotham Acadamy Baseball uniform with pride despite them losing. "Hey, Frostbite, can I go with Tim and Duke to get Peoeria Pizza? We'll be back before the girl's game ends."

"Only if you take Ember with you," Dr.Frostbite says, nodding to his daughter, who looks alarmed to be included. "She needs more friends."

"Hey!"

"Sure. Come on, Ember, you'll get along with Duke. He likes old-school rock."

"It's not old-school!"

Emily laughs, watching the two siblings bicker as they stride away, blending into the crowd with no one batting an eye at the glowing girl anymore. How blessed that boy was.

"I'm glad Danny has gotten comfortable here. I always worried he never was going to have a normal childhood." Dr. Frostbite confesses to swirling the hotdogs around in the water to ensure each one is cooked.

"I think you and the rest are doing a wonderful job. You're a great father." She assures him, thinking wistfully of her William. He's been on deployment for a few months now and will likely miss the holidays again, but his contract is almost up. They may try for a child when he gets in the reserves. "How are things at the clinic?"

"Oh, wonderful. I'm grateful that Mr. Wayne has allowed the expansion of Thomas Wayne Memorial Clinic. Dr. Thompkins will be covering the east side of Gotham while I help those on the west. It's much more fulfilling than working in some hospital that demands funds for the silliest things. Back home, that would have been illegal. The people would have burned me at the stake if I had allowed anyone to pass away due to greed."

"My kind of people." She laughs. A sharp crack sounds from the field as the bat makes contact with the ball, and the crowd goes wild. It's a wonderful day.

[jadeseadragon]

@baytal.fann

"Did you know that the art of stained glass originated in the Muslim world?

In the eighth century, skilled glassmakers in Egypt made a groundbreaking discovery—the technique of painting glass with metallic stain. This innovation led to the creation of transparent stains, colored with copper (producing red or brown) and silver (resulting in yellow), which became distinctive features of early Islamic glassware in Egypt and the Near East.

Fast forward to the 13th century, when decorators in the Syrian region achieved a significant milestone by applying enamels on glass on a large scale. Over the following two centuries, Syrian and Egyptian craftsmen crafted a diverse array of glass objects in various shapes and sizes, adorned with brilliant polychrome ornamentation. These items served practical purposes such as hanging lamps for illuminating mosque interiors, as well as functional vessels and other useful items, along with awe-inspiring display pieces.

In the later Middle Ages, European admiration for Islamic luxury glasses soared due to their exotic aesthetics and advanced technical craftsmanship. Some even believed these objects to be relics from the Holy Land. Fragments of Islamic glass, often adorned with gilding and enameling, have been discovered in archaeological excavations across Europe, while intact pieces grace cathedral treasuries. Notably, excavations have unveiled evidence of the exportation of Islamic glass vessels to China, highlighting the widespread influence and global trade connections of this innovative art form."

[muletia]

-`♡´- 𝐰𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐮𝐬

orion pax x human!reader x d-16 and a sprinkle of platonic x elita <3 pocket spouse au

summary: finally, the time has come to meet your spouse! after joining the Pocket Spouse Program — an Earth-Cybertron friendship pact allowing humans to become partners to bots who wish to have their very own human to love, cherish, and treat as their soft, squishy spouses — you’ve been waiting for so long for your turn to come. and as it turns out, this long-awaited day is full of pleasant surprises <3

cw: fluff, canon divergence because tfo takes place bazilion years before humans, a little bit of jealousy and obsessive thoughts, possessiveness, implied polyamory, implied nsfw thoughts (nothing explicit thought)

word count: 3900

shot out to all the anons and non-anons who gave me a lot of great ideas for this au <3

Armed with a travel bag filled with the most useful items and a backpack stuffed with supplies, you stand before the capsule-shaped elevator. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before stepping into the tight, enclosed space, and enter, sealing your fate. The doors close behind you, and without giving you even a second to prepare, the elevator descends rapidly, taking you towards your new life but not granting enough time to fully shake off the old one.

Not that there was much to shake off, considering you had willingly made the decision to join the Pocket Spouse program. Nothing was holding you on Earth, least of all luck, so you decided to seek it elsewhere. And as it happened, you chose to start your search on a planet inhabited by sentient, enormous, transforming robots who, apparently, had quite the fascination with humans. An extreme new beginning, but after hearing only good things about the living conditions and the way humans were treated with care, you figured — why not, if it meant living in luxury?

Of course, you had considered various scenarios in case the rumors turned out to be a sham. You could end up with anyone. A fetishist, a collector of exotic pets, a hoarder of toys. That was the unknown, stressful factor that the speed of the elevator gave you no chance to tame. The decision of which robotic spouse you would be assigned to also did not belong to you, so all you could do was hope for a stroke of luck that you’d end up with someone normal.

You don’t even have time to take another deep, reassuring breath when the capsule comes to a sharp stop, and almost immediately its sliding doors open.

You’re greeted by a metallic face with distinctly feminine features. Beautiful in its strange, alien way, but also serious. One look is enough to tell you that you’re dealing with a bot who is strict and has no tolerance for nonsense, but your first impression naturally shifts when your eyes and her optics meet. Her metal face softens almost instantly, easing your stress just enough for you to regain feeling in your legs. You step out toward the bot, onto a small platform designed specifically for a species of your size, and with each step, the bot seems to grow to an unsettlingly immense scale.

The room is small — or at least it seems that way as you try to translate its dimensions into the standards of the giants who inhabit this planet — and carelessly sterile in dark gray tones. There’s no doubt it was put together in a rush, without much thought, simply to exist and serve its function. Its barrenness is unsettling. So much for a luxurious life of doing nothing?

The bot straightens and pulls a datapad closer as she finally speaks. “[Name] [Last Name], I presume?” You still can’t get over how easily the metal of her face bends and flexes when needed, as if it were made of rubber.

“Exactly.”

She nods her helm. “My name is Elita One. I am the head of this mining sector, and I also hold responsibility for every pocket spouse assigned here. And unless there is a change in management, you answer to me, you listen to me, and you bring all future requests or orders to me.”

Oh. So you got assigned to the working class. Fine, you’ll adjust as soon as you get proper living conditions. “Alright.” The lack of warmth in her demeanor discourages you from wanting to engage in any future interactions, but if she’s your only lifeline to protection from potential mistreatment, you’ll treat her words as gospel. “Nice to meet you.” You smile and extend a hand toward her. She stares at you hesitantly for a moment before finally reaching out a single digit to complete the greeting.

“Likewise.”

Elita doesn’t withdraw her servo, though; instead, she straightens it and clasps her digits together, gesturing for you to climb onto her palm. “For safety.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You accept the invitation, though a red flag starts waving in your mind. You don’t remain on her servo for long, as Elita smoothly and carefully transfers you onto her shoulder.

“I advise you to be careful,” she warns. “Miners rarely interact with pocket spouses, so they might try to touch you or snatch you up in their servos. Do not try to stand, do not lean over, and above all, do not excite them. A simple wave of your hand is enough to send them into a frenzy. Understood?”

Alright, now the stress is back. You hadn’t expected such strong reactions towards humans, especially since this trend od getting pocket spouses was no longer new. “Wait. I thought pocket spouses were already a well-established concept on your planet.”

“Not in these parts,” she sighs. “On the surface, the sight of humans may not cause much of a stir, but things are different down here. For us miners, pocket spouses are a rarity. Only the best can afford them.”

Oh, so even among a highly advanced race of sentient robots, there was still a harmful caste system in place. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you stammer, because what else is there to say in this situation? When she shoots you a sour glance, you decide to change the subject, hoping to save your image from seeming callous and naïve. You clear your throat. “So, I assume you already have your own pocket spouse?”

She gives you a pointed side-eye. She saw right through your plan.

“Of course, I do. Do I need to repeat myself about being careful, or is everything clear?”

“Clear as day.” You don’t need to see her faceplate to know that this human phrase is unfamiliar to her. Feeling her impatient side-eye on you, you awkwardly correct yourself, “Yes.”

“Good. If you have anything else you’d like to know, now is the time to ask. I assure you, you won’t have time later.”

“My spouse. What are they like?”

“Spouses,” she corrects nonchalantly, not even looking up from her datapad, throwing you completely off.

“Spouses? Do I get one for free?”

Elita does not appreciate your attempt at humor. She sends you a sharp look.

“In a manner of speaking. Officially, a pocket spouse is assigned to a single bot, but there are cases of sharing. Or, if by some miracle, a human ends up with a conjunx. But I haven’t heard of such cases.”

Conjunx? That’s a new word, and it means absolutely nothing to you, but you decide to store it in your memory for later, too distracted by the fact that you’ve been assigned to a pair.

“Okay, I definitely wasn’t expecting that.”

“Does that make you uncomfortable?”

“No. I think? I don’t know yet, you caught me off guard.” You take a deep breath. You’ll manage. Somehow. “So, my spouses. What are they like?”

Elita’s expression darkens, and that, in turn, unsettles you. That couldn’t be a good sign.

“What is it? Did I get assigned to some creeps?”

“Worse,” she huffs. “D-16 is a decent mech and an exemplary miner, and officially, he is your spouse. But Orion —” she grips the datapad tighter as if restraining herself from an outburst “—Orion is the most foolish, irresponsible, and reckless bot on all of Cybertron. And if you think I’m exaggerating, you’re gravely mistaken. He attracts trouble like a magnet and throws himself into it because he is incorrigible. I almost pity you, really, because you couldn’t have gotten a worse match. Even Darkwing would have been a better spouse.”

But… as if fighting her own thoughts, she adds, “For all their recklessness… they worked very hard to have you, and I know they will treat you well. Perhaps clumsily at first, but well. That doesn’t change the fact that Orion has an empty canister instead of a processor, so if he does something idiotic, and he will, you are to report it to me immediately.”

Galncing at the datapad, she adds "Do you want to know anything else? We don't have much time for idle chatter."

"Just one thing. You mentioned that there's already a human in this sector. Can you arrange for us to meet sometime soon? It’d be nice to have occasional contact with someone like me."

"We'll see what can be done," she replies warily, clearly displeased with the idea. Her answer makes it obvious that there's a high chance you’ll be left hanging rather than meeting your fellow human, but you’re not giving up that easily.

"Thanks," you say. Out of politeness, feeling an even stronger urge to stay on her good side.

"Shall we begin?"

You take a deep breath. You’re doing this. You’re meeting your extraterrestrial partners, cementing your future on this planet. Your hesitation lasts only a moment — just a brief weighing of pros and cons, an instant of fighting the urge to turn around and run back to the elevator. Less than a second is all it takes for you to give your answer.

"Yes, I want to meet them."

"Be careful," she warns sharply, one last time. "I've worked too hard for this job to lose it now because of human irresponsibility."

Elita takes a step forward, and you have to grab onto her helm to keep your balance, but thankfully, an exaggerated optic-roll is her only reaction to the excess contact. The next steps aren’t as shocking; by the third, you’ve adjusted to the rhythm of the giant leading you to a set of sliding doors, which she opens with a button on the side.

Your pocket spouses certainly know how to make… an intriguing first impression.

Caught off guard by the sudden opening of the doors, they literally tumble into the room and land on the floor, shooting you a lightning-fast glance before scrambling to their pedes at record speed, straightening up as if nothing happened. Their excited grins grow quickly and they’re clearly contagious, because you feel your own lips curling into a smile.

They look masculine and young, as much as you can say that about beings whose tissues don’t age. What grabs your attention most is the bot with yellow optics. You haven’t seen such a unique color among their kind before. Maybe you haven’t met many bots yet, but you could swear most had blue optics. Interesting... You make a mental note to compliment those bright, captivating optics later.

Your gazes meet, and the mech with the unusual, beautiful optics parts his lips slightly. You get the feeling he wants to say something, but excitement completely paralyzes him.

"Well, that was a stunning performance. Was eavesdropping worth it?"

"Ahem, no... we weren't eavesdropping," Orion defends himself, though his gaze remains fixed on you.

"Forgive us, Elita, you just caught us off guard when you opened the door so suddenly," D-16 adds, having suddenly regained control over his body.

They step closer, as if hypnotized, drawn to minimizing the distance, but Elita halts them with an outstretched arm. They stop, but their lovestruck expressions make it clear that their minds are already revolving solely around you.

"Ugh, pull yourselves together," Elita scolds. "You won’t lay so much as a digit on your pocket spouse until you’ve listened to the protocol, so focus."

"Mhm, yeah, yeah."

"Now do you understand what I was talking about earlier?" she directs at you. "I wish you Primus' patience with these two airheads."

"Oh, come on, they’re quite charming," you remark — but it turns out to be unnecessary, as the eruption of joy at hearing your voice is nearly impossible for even Elita to suppress.

Both of them surge forward, their excited cheers and cooing echoing through the empty room, bombarding you with loud adoration.

"Didn’t I just say something about getting them worked up?!" Elita hisses at you, but the sharp tone doesn’t sit well with your partners, their expressions suddenly sober as they feel the instinct to stand in your defense.

"Elita, leave them alone," Orion intervenes. "They’ve done nothing wrong."

"I knew this would happen," Elita sighs. "Enough. Let me recite the protocol so we can all go our separate ways, because I don’t have time to babysit all of you."

She looks at the two mechs before her to make sure they’re listening, but it quickly becomes evident they have no intention of cooperating today.

"Primus, focus! Do you think I have time to waste? Unlike you, empty cans, I have a ton of work to do and I'd like to finish it before my shift starts."

Still seeing their dazed, absentminded expressions, Elita decides to escalate.

"Do I have to take your pocket spouse away for you to finally pay attention?"

Orion snaps out of his trance first, alarmed at the idea of you being taken away.

"What? No, no! We’re listening now, boss."

"Next time, there won’t be a verbal warning. I’ll smack you both on the helms, and that’ll be the end of your pocket spouse respecting you."

Of course, a reprimanding servo-to-helm contact was unavoidable when it became clear they were drifting off again. But after the protocol was recited, a datapad signed, and you were informed that regular supplies of human fuel and clothing would be delivered to you, the long-awaited moment of your "eviction" from Elita’s shoulder finally arrived.

She steps closer to the two bots, who extend their servos with interlaced small digits toward you so you can transfer safely. Grabbing your bag, you carefully step from her shoulder onto their servo, at last entering physical contact with your spouses.

"You have a few clicks of free time before your shift starts," Elita informs them. "And if you’re even a nanoklik late, I swear you’ll be pulling overtime."

She gives you one last soft, almost sympathetic look, so out of place with her previous authoritative tone before leaving, closing the door behind her.

Two pairs of optics focus on you.

You gaze into them, sinking into the moment, finally understanding what Elita meant about their fascination with humans. Because looking into their dazzling optics, brimming with excitement and adoration, you find yourself experiencing that same fascination with their alien race, even though you’ve met other bots before.

You can truly call yourself a pocket spouse now, completely leaving your past life behind. And you sincerely hope this one will be better. That Orion and D-16 will make it so, though you have no guarantee.

"Hello," you say warmly.

"Hi," they reply almost simultaneously.

D-16 can’t hold back any longer. He extends his servo toward you, eager to finally acquaint himself with the texture of your body, but he hesitates the moment he feels you shiver ever so slightly, struck by your fear.

"Ah, I’m sorry, don’t be afraid," he says.

A bad start. A very bad start. He worries he’s already tainted your budding relationship, that his reckless excitement has scared you enough that you won’t give him a chance to open up. But you quickly soothe his fears.

"It’s okay, really. You can touch me if you want."

Their youthful, boyish excitement returns, softening their handsome metal faces — and your heart along with them.

"Just be careful," you remind them. "Humans are quite prone to accidental squishing."

"We’ll remember," D-16 promises. "We’d never hurt you. Right, Orion?"

"Of course. You’ll be completely safe with us."

"Alright, I believe you." Not entirely. You want to believe them. But if what Elita said was true, then they would stay true to their word if they worked so hard to be assigned a human. Only fools would deliberately destroy the fruits of their labor. "So? Do you want to touch your pocket spouse?"

Your pocket spouse. Your. Theirs. Theirs and only theirs.

It’s a dangerous thought for a miner, because the concept of ownership had been limited to just a recharge station and the locker next to it. Everything else was shared. Shared washracks, shared habsuites, shared berths for resting. There was no room for theirs.

But you were theirs. Truly, undeniably, and tangibly theirs. Only theirs. And they wanted it to stay that way. Theirs to touch, theirs to give attention to, theirs to talk to and compliment. Not for Jazz, not for Wheeljack, not for Sideswipe, and no longer for Elita. Theirs. It was beautiful and terrifying at the same time because you were burdening them with responsibilities they had never known before. Theirs. They couldn’t rely on anyone else anymore.

They exchange a brief, knowing glance. Theirs. They cannot ruin this. They cannot make mistakes. You have to like them, just as they instantly fell in love with you, and see them as good spouse material. They will show you that they can take care of you. Their pocket spouse. Theirs. Only theirs.

"What’s wrong? You don’t want to?" you ask teasingly, snapping them out of the traps of their own thoughts.

"Oh, Primus, of course we do. Very much. You have no idea how much," Orion confesses.

They were both brave, but it’s Orion who makes the first move. His servo finds your back, pressing against it with a single digit. Soft. Oh, so soft.

Once, he asked Elita what her pocket spouse felt like, and that was the answer he got. He didn’t understand it then. What was softness? What kind of sensation was it? What could he compare it to? But now… now he knew that softness was you, and you were softness. And if he could, he would never let you go.

"Wow, incredible. D, this is incredible, unlike anything else. You’re… extraordinary!"

He gently strokes your back, and you allow yourself to wrap your hand around his massive metal finger, which Orion welcomes with a beaming, delighted smile. How was it possible that your servo was even softer? Or maybe somewhere else, you were even softer still. He’d heard that humans and Cybertronians were compatible, and though he knows it’s not exactly proper to let his mind drift into impure, carnal territories so early in the relationship, cannot stop himself from dreaming of drowning in your softness. Wants to be surrounded by it. Wants to be suffocated by it. Wants to feel it after every shift, wake up in it and recharge.

Impatient with his partner’s sluggishness and selfishness, D-16 clicks his glossa.

"Move your digit, Pax, it’s my turn now."

It takes Orion a few nanokliks to pull himself away from his indecent thoughts. He doesn’t want to let you go, doesn’t want to be more than a few centimeters away from you ever again, but he knows D will smack him on the still-fresh sore spot left by Elita on his helm if he doesn’t pull his servo back. So he does. And immediately, he is consumed by an overwhelming sense of loneliness and emptiness, as if his life has suddenly become incomplete. He already wants to come back to you.

D-16’s reaction is similar. Awe at the new but pleasant texture manifests in his slightly parted intake and quick strokes across your back, searching for and discovering softness. Where your hand meets his digit, an incomparable warmth spreads, giving him a sense of completeness. You, him, and Orion. Three puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly, finally reunited after years of separation.

"I’m glad you like me," you laugh. "That’s a good start, huh?"

"It was good the moment we saw you," Orion says. "Really, we couldn’t have imagined a better pocket spouse."

"You’re too kind," you reply. You know they’re speaking from excitement, their minds weaving intricate visions and fantasies about life with a pocket spouse — visions that might not be so rosy in reality — but you don’t want to ruin it for them. Especially since you want to find a good life here, too. You want to be happy, regardless of the expectations they unknowingly place upon you. If they want to play house, you’ll join them. If they have a human fetish, you’ll indulge them in that too. "I think we’ll be happy together, won’t we? I’d like that."

"We will, for sure!" Orion assures enthusiastically.

"We know we’re just lousy miners, and you won’t have any luxuries," D-16 adds, earning a sharp elbow to the side from Orion. "I wasn’t finished, Pax." He elbows him back. "But we’ll do our best to make sure you have a good life with us. We’ll do everything for you. We’ll get… almost anything, but if you need something from the city, just say the word! Orion or I will get you food, clothes, whatever you need."

"Thanks, you’re sweet," you say, touched by their words. "I know I can’t do much, but maybe I can repay you somehow?"

"Just having you here is enough for now," D-16 says, smiling softly, enchanted by your question.

"Will you touch us again?" Orion asks, only to immediately receive a frustrated elbow. "What? They asked first."

D-16 pinches the bridge of his nose, unable to believe his partner’s tactlessness. Orion’s talent for making things worse had to affect you, it just had to. Just like every fragging time, it would fall on his shoulders to get them out of trouble, and in this case, to make sure you saw them as normal and worthy of being your spouses. They cannot mess this up. At any cost.

Which is why D is surprised when he hears your soft laughter. He lifts his servo from his faceplate and looks at you hopefully. So their relationship wasn’t ruined by Orion’s loose vocalizer?

"Of course. Come closer," you say, encouraging them further by crooking a finger.

Two massive faceplates move toward you simultaneously until they finally touch. They’re so close that you can stroke their cheeks, and so you do, slowly running your fingers over warm, living metal, drowning in their proximity. Orion and D-16 press into your hands, leaning into the comforting, though foreign, softness — now only theirs. Not for perching on Elita’s shoulder anymore. For them. Theirs to be petted, theirs to be embraced.

They could spend a lifetime in this room if it meant constant cheek-stroking and being spoiled by you. Oh, how they couldn’t wait for your shared life. Waking up with you. Coming back to their recharge stations after a hard day’s work, knowing someone was waiting for them. Spending time together. Telling you about Megatronus and Sentinel, showing off their merch, sharing every detail of their lives, and begging you to tell them about yours. About your planet, your interests, your human life — so they could make your life here as good as possible, desperately vying for your affection.

You will like them. You must. Because they already adored you, unconditionally devoted to their beloved pocket spouse. Theirs.

Relaxed and overwhelmed with contentment, they let their engines hum louder.

"Oh? You like this that much?" you ask, totaly not planning to exploit the bots’ ability to purr purely for your own selfish pleasure.

"Very much," Orion rumbles.

"You’re the best," D-16 adds.

For a moment, they open their optics, their gaze focused on you. And the trust flickering within them, the fervor of emotions burning away reason convinces you that you chose well by deciding to become a pocket spouse.

[gabriel-seths-pr-assistant]

Do space marines wear any normal clothes, like something a baseline human in Imperium would wear but made for their size? I'm new to warhammer and in most art of them I have seen they are either in armor or naked in underwear.

Yes, Space Marines do have "normal" clothes for everyday use.

They will often use their power armour for formal occasions since it's more impressive and intimidating — one of my favourite Gabriel Seth moments is in the short story Know Thyself by Andy Smillie when an Inquisitor pays the Flesh Tearers a surprise visit and Seth is literally not wearing pants:

Seth knelt in the Reclusiam’s centre, naked save for an ashen tunic that draped his broad frame.

Seth has to send two battle-brothers to distract the Inquisitor while he scrambles into his power armour to make a good first impression. 😂

However, as I have mentioned earlier, wearing power armour for extended periods of time creates an ungodly body odour. So when they're not in a combat AO, Astartes wear various types of formal, military, or casual clothes.

In general, Astartes are warrior-monks and will often wear monastic robes and habits (which can be quickly shed for a duel or close combat like Jedi in Star Wars:)

However, some Chapters also follow the fashions of their homeworld.

Here are some descriptions of Astartes clothes from the canon:

Ultramarines

Ultramarines are culturally inspired by Ancient Rome and often wear tunics or togas when performing administrative duties among mortals:

— Marneus Calgar.

Messinius was garbed in simple clothes: loose trousers, boots and a tunic that left his massive arms bare. He enjoyed the freedom of movement they gave him. So much of his life was spent enclosed in ceramite, he enjoyed being free of it.

— The Avenging Son.

They spoke in Guilliman’s library, his most sacred sanctum. Guilliman had removed the Armour of Fate, though it physically pained him to do so. Like Maxim, he wore a tunic and trousers. The primarch’s clothes were ultra­marine blue to Maxim’s forest green, and unlike Maxim’s heavily embroidered garb, Guilliman wore no decoration besides the buckle stamped with the ultima that fastened his belt. As usual, he sat at his desk, working while he talked.

— Godblight.

However, Ultramarines also have more formal wear:

Sicarius left his former quarters a short while later. He had donned a gilt-edged red cloak and light carapace breastplate over his training fatigues.

Prabian wore fatigues and light training armour like Sicarius, but he also had a small combat shield strapped to his left arm and wore a sheathed gladius at his left hip. A soft blue cloak with a silver trim swished in his wake.

— Knights of Macragge.

War Hounds

We also get descriptions of formal wear from the Great Crusade era, specifically the War Hounds (early World Eaters):

He looked at Dreagher again. Like Khârn, the man was dressed in white, bands of blue glittering across the high-collared tunic, boots and gauntlets a dark ceremonial blue rather than functional shipboard grey. The Emperor's lightning-bolt emblem gleamed at his collar and shoulder. His dress matched Khârn's own: the formal garments with which the War Hounds symbolised they were about their most solemn business.

— After Desh'ea.

Dark Angels

Dark Angels embrace the ascetic warrior-monk aesthetic to a very high degree:

— Will of Iron.

Space Wolves

Like most Fenrisians, Space Wolves wear furs and deerskin leather clothes:

Arjac moved to the other side of the throne to Fenrir so that he could see the vid-feed from the frigate approaching the space hulk. Like the Lord of Fenris, he was not in his armour, but dressed in a hide tunic and leggings, his arms banded with leather totem cords hung with fangs and bones, his thick belt riveted with iron honour badges. His freshly shaved scalp shone with the speckled starlight from the display. He dragged his fingers through his thick, newly trimmed beard.

‘It’s your pack, you choose the marking,’ growled Ullr. He was out of his armour too, but unlike the grey robes of Gaius and his companions he wore hide breeches tied with thongs from ankle to knee and a fur-lined jerkin that left arms and chest exposed.

— The Wolftime.

Blood Angels

In Dante, Dante himself dresses casually in red and gold day robes while doing office work. In Devastation of Baal, Dante also asks the assembled representatives of the Blood Angels Successor Chapters to attend a meeting in their day robes:

Erwin looked around, his curiosity piqued by the diversity of men who staffed his brother Chapters. As a last symbol of peace (although Erwin thought it more to save space) Dante had ordered that they attend in their day robes. These were almost as varied as their wearers.

— Devastation of Baal.

Blood Drinkers

The Blood Drinkers' homeworld, San Guisiga, is described as a hot, volcanic planet criss-crossed with lava rivers. In addition, a mutation of the mucranoid geneseed organ causes the Blood Drinkers' skin glands to atrophy, giving them very dry, itchy skin. As a result of the hot climate and skin irritation, the Blood Drinkers wear loose trousers and tend to go shirtless:

Chapter Master Caedis worked in his chambers. He was stripped to the waist; baggy, blood-red trousers on his lower half, soft black boots on his feet and a black tabard hanging between his legs – the manner of dress all Blood Drinkers affected when out of their battle-plate. The battle-barge was warm, the way the Blood Drinkers preferred; warm as the volcanic halls of San Guisiga, warm as blood.

— Death of Integrity.

Novamarines

The Novamarines, an Ultramarines Successor Chapter, lean more towards the battle-monks aesthetics:

Like him, he wore a bone-coloured habit, a deep-blue tabard hanging down the front displaying the Chapter badge: a skull surrounded by a stylised starburst. A silver sash embroidered with many campaign markings, the honours of a Deathwatch kill-team veteran, crossed the brother’s chest.

— Death of Integrity.

Entertainingly, in Death of Integrity, the Novamarines invite the Blood Drinkers to a formal dinner before embarking on a joint campaign and then fret among themselves about what to wear when welcoming the other Chapter, discussing the symbolic value of different attires. They finally decide on wearing their armour because they want to show the Blood Drinkers that the Novamarines are ready to follow the other Chapter into battle.

Iron Snakes

The Iron Snakes are heavily inspired by Ancient Greece, which also shows in their clothing:

Barefoot and dressed in a loose white chiton, Priad stood on the marble deck of the observation platform at the summit of the Chapter House's fortress.

— Brothers of the Snake.

Raven Guard

Agapito was dressed in black trousers and a sleeveless tunic. His arms bulged with muscles studded with the silvery wink of nerve shunt ports. His pale skin was shadowed by subcutaneous black carapace.

— Lord of Shadows.

Unnumbered Sons

His wargear was held in a makeshift armoury Daelus had set up at one side of the room. He left his armour on its stand and dressed himself in a loose tunic and trousers, pulled on his boots, and belted his bolt pistol around his waist. It was freezing in the station, but he didn’t feel it, and besides, nowhere was as cold as those millennia on board Cawl’s vessel. It was good to be out of his armour for a while. He had a loathing of confinement.

— The Great Work.

Areios had a few inches on the Firstborn Messinius. Neither of them wore their armour. Messinius was dressed in simple robes, Areios the off-duty uniform of short-sleeved tunic and trousers common to all the Unnumbered Sons.

— Throne of Light.

Knights Errant (early Grey Knights)

Clad in a long chiton of unadorned grey over a tan bodyglove with plastek-seals over his armour interface sockets, he was armed only with a few gardening tools hanging from a leather work belt.

— Luna Mendex.

Night Lords

In the Night Lords omnibus by ADB, the Night Lords are described as wearing robes or traditional Legion tunics (those of them that can still remove their armour, that is).

I hope this gave you a fair idea of how Space Marines might dress when they're not wearing armour. 😊

If others have more examples, feel free to add them!

[revelboo]

More Transformers x Reader Headcanons

Various Transformers thoughts and nonsense

Soundwave/Blaster

• Cassette carriers can make a very specific crooning sort of purr that’s meant to soothe or coax unruly cassettes. Most of the time it’s not even a conscious thing. Which isn’t a problem except around humans. Because of our size, we can trigger that instinctive sound by accident if we’re upset. Even if the Cybertronian doesn’t even particularly like us or care for us at the time, leading to some… awkwardness.

Earthspark Soundwave

• “Silence,” he snarls, looming over you, big servos flexing in what you’d already figured out was an empty threat. Big and scary won’t actually hurt you, just threatening when you’re getting on his nerves. Aware of the cassettes watching the exchange, of Lazerbeak glaring at you in an attempt to telegraph how bad an idea it is, you know he’s right. But pushing Soundwave’s buttons is just too fun.

• “Or what? You can’t actually make me do anything, can you?” You just grin up at him. Insolent, little brat. Striding after you, he sees you glance back at him and the exact moment your attitude falters. Lunging for you as you scream and run. Aware of how undignified this is as his cassettes watch the drama. Seizing you as you kick and fight against him, he’s not sure what to do know. Just wants you to shut up. Not try to pick fights at every turn. “What are you doing? Are you purring?” The shaky question makes him freeze in horror. Realizing he is crooning at you like he would a cassette. Snarling, he releases you and you stumble away, staring up at him as Frenzy makes a strangled noise trying not to laugh. Because he didn’t just do that for a human. For you especially.

• They’re also very likely to try to carry a human around in their cassette compartment for safety, but also because they like having your warmth there. It can also be a way of ending an argument, picking you up and placing you inside like an errant cassette until you cool down, while crooning at you.

Body Language

• Cybertronians with wings/ door wings do unconsciously telegraph their emotions with them, but while wings lifted up is a sign of aggression in a Seeker, it’s a friendly or alert gesture in nonflyers. And can cause misunderstandings.

• Antenna can function much the same way and tend to be sensory appendages and, as such, very sensitive. The way they flick or move making them targets for curious humans. Touching a Cybertronian’s antenna because they’re cute comes across as an invitation to interface or can cause aggression. Or both.

TFP Shockwave

• Feet silent as you move closer to where his head is resting on his outstretched arm, you bend to check that his single optic is dim. Falling asleep at his desk while working isn’t exactly anything new, but staring up at the screen of alien gibberish, the graphs, and diagrams, you really wish you could make sense of it as you wrap your arms around yourself. Movement draws your attention back to him as his antenna flick in his recharge. You’d decided they look like bunny ears at some point, but haven’t dared to point that out to him. Doubt he’d be pleased to hear you call him cute.

• Shuddering as he comes awake to the feel of soft little hands playing with his antenna, his optic flares, arm shifting to flatten you against his head with a warning growl. Hears your little squeak of surprise as you grab onto his antenna for balance and his whole frame shivers. Can’t move, his cannon pressing against your back to pin you against him. Torn between the desire to encourage that touch and the urge to drop you and back away, because it feels too good.

Seekers

• When under extreme duress, Seekers will hiss, the noise typically accompanied by a whistling from their turbines that’s meant to call their trine for help.

• Seekers naturally gravitate toward forming trines and can be aggressive to outside trines, but several trines will band together against a common threat. In Everything is Alright, the elite trine is broken. True Romance is a better example of a healthy trine dynamic. In Everything is Alright’s universe, I’d intended to use the Rainmakers as an example of the normal dynamic, but made the True Romance alternate take instead. The drive to form trines in Seekers is so strong, they can also unconsciously form trines with non-Seekers if they’re around the other Cybertronians constantly, though they’re unlikely to admit to the mental association, finding it embarrassing.

Rainmakers

• There’s no such thing as alone time, not even resisting when an arm curls around you and drags you back into a warm frame. Shivering when your hair begins to float, and a mouth finds your throat. “Missed you,” Ion Storm murmurs, your skin prickling wherever he touches you. Even though it’s only been hours by your estimate since you last saw him. Hear Acid Storm make a low, rumbling noise of amusement from where he’s setting out energon cubes for them and food for you.

• About to walk by, Nova Storm reaches out to touch a stray strand of your staticky hair. Giving in to impulse and moving to pin you between him and Ion Storm, relaxing at the feel of your much cooler body against his own. “Fuel first,” Acid Storm growls without any real heat. Making a sound of acknowledgment, he cups your throat and tips your face up toward his, mouth brushing yours as you soften against him, relaxing into the heat of his touch. “I know you two can hear me.”

Mixed Signals

• Especially a problem with more aggressive Cybertronians- when arguing humans will sometimes just walk away to get some space to calm down. Unfortunately, that can come across as an invitation to follow with Decepticons in particular. A challenge. Continuing to ignore them or avoid them, upping their aggression and even seen as flirting or attempts to get their attention.

TFP Megatron

• “Where are you going?” That low, angry growl makes the hair at your nape prickle. He has a point though, trapped on his berth with the mass displaced mech, there’s nowhere to actually go. Except away from him right now, because you’re over arguing with him. Need to calm down and for him to just leave you alone for a minute. Which isn’t happening when you hear his heavy peds following you.

• Stalking after you as you ignore him, that aggression shifts and heats, becoming hunger. Catching your arm to force you to stop, you spin towards him, palm smacking against his face. “Don’t you dare, I’m angry with you.” Growling, he hauls you off your feet against him, chuckling when you slap him again and his spike stirs at your defiance. Wonders who you’re trying to convince, him or yourself as his mouth crashes down on yours.

• Decepticons and Autobots are often taken off guard when humans do something they think is cute. Yawning, sneezing, the way we get flustered are all fascinating to some of them, making them try to provoke reactions. Decepticons especially, have trouble dealing with humans being affectionate or sweet. Gently stroking their helm or curling up against them can be so unexpected they may gently bite in reprimand just because they don’t know how to respond.

• Humans tend to be tactile and want to touch everything. Cybertronians not used to this can be taken off guard when trying to offer a human a ride in their alt mode. Not realizing we’ll touch anything in reach, admiring them without understanding how sensitive their interiors are. These are surfaces that are never really handled. More of them will just tolerate the touch if it’s a familiar human, while others will forcibly eject them or snarl at them not to touch. Especially if the touch comes across as intimate.

Bluestreak

• Struggling to focus on the road as you run your fingers against his dash, shifting distractingly in his seat, a hand on his shifter, Bluestreak swallows a whine. “It’s so wild. I can’t believe the amount of detail you incorporated,” you say, a fingertip tracing a tooled leather seam to make him shudder all over. “Um, are you okay?” No. Not at all. And far too embarrassed to actually say anything because he’s not sure if he’d ask you to stop or beg you to keep touching him with those soft hands.

[earthsparked]

Unsurprisingly, Rung’s the first one to notice.

When Rodimus announced the Lost Light would be bringing on a cohort of humans as some kind of security advisors, or something, the mechs had responded in various ways. Mutters of resignation, irritation, curiosity. Whirl had been…Whirl.

We probably shouldn’t leave the humans alone with him, the ship’s psychiatrist had worried, the third time the mech had made one of the organics freak out with his jokes (“jokes”) about squishies, about the various graphic ways their entrails would gum up his inner workings. Half the poor dears outright disliked the mech, and many of the others were understandably terrified of him. What else were they supposed to think, when his only interactions with them were threatening to some degree or other?

So when every mech’s EM field tightened with concern one day in Swerve’s, watching as an overcharged Whirl swaggered up to where the newest member of their organic crew was chatting with Rewind, Rung vented softly and expected more of the same.

Only -

You blinked at the rather direct, messy threats coming your way by the big blue flier the others had warned you about. And chuckled.

You’re forgetting the bones. You guys always forget the bones.

The slag does THAT mean, squishy?

A knock of your knuckles on the table, as Swerve keeps cleaning the same glass over and over, watching this go down, clearly about to ask Ultra Magnus to intervene the second this crosses the line…

You laugh outright under the glaring optic. See, right there. We’re not just viscera. We have an internal bone structure! So when you step on me, it’s not going to be a squish. Not just a squish, anyway. More like a CRUNCH, and a gooey ooze, and some screaming of course. Then a drip, drip, drip -

You dip your fingers in your drink and let drops of it patter to the table, in imitation of that red fluid that is and isn’t like energon at all.

Whirl just…stares. You smile at him, earnest, a little playful. You know what you’re doing, clearly, but there’s nothing cruel to it. Your strange, alien, yet strikingly comparable EM field - which you supposedly can’t even sense, how odd - is as open and straightforward as any he’s encountered. You’re engaging. With Whirl.

Neurodivergent, your mental health records had said when he’d looked them over. He’s no xenopsychiatrist, he’d protested to Rodimus, but after being pushed into reading your species’ own research he has to admit the similarities between your kind and his are so striking, nearly unsettlingly so…

He can’t help thinking, what a lovely word the humans had made.

That differences exist and minds diverge, and it’s not wrong. It’s not stigmatized - or shouldn’t be, the humans say. It could make an old mech like him reminisce on the horrors of Functionalism, the crimes of their past…compared to that lovely word, neurodivergent.

So he knows that Whirl is being confronted by a species, or at least one member of a species, who diverges. Who sees differences as something to embrace. You’re still smiling up at Whirl as he snaps out some further defensive threats, but Rung sees it. Hears it. Wonders at it.

Fine, you can be Crunchy, he snarks, and after a few more vague insults, goes to pick a fight with someone more his size.

You make a face and try to explain as he turns away that Actually “crunchy” has a certain connotation in my society, and I’m definitely not “crunchy.” Uh, but I guess I’ve had worse nicknames. Bye, Whirl! you call, unperturbed. Nice meeting you! I like how blue you are by the way!

Do you realize that you’ve managed to get under the fractious mech’s plating?

Do you see the way Whirl looks over his shoulder as he’s finally getting dragged off to the brig for starting another fight - looking to see if you’d been watching? The same way he tosses out a joke, Hey Eyebrows - looking for a reaction.

Rung sees it, and nurses his drink, and wonders what might happen if he slips a datapad to you about empurata.

[cellarspider]

Rambles in Star Wars History: The extreme shenanigans that changed an Empire

Bioware games can absolutely fascinate me, in part because of their worldbuilding, and in part because of where the worldbuilding ends. I mean, I did a whole long series of posts on the grammar of Qunlat and I have at least a dozen essays worth of material of exegetical analysis of religion in Dragon Age kicking around in my brain, which I keep threatening to actually manifest.

But since I'm here with my worldbuilding hat on, I'm going to ramble about Star Wars: The Old Republic, focusing on some of the sometimes-hilarious drama that's implied by the plot, and the implications for how these shenanigans remade a major galactic society in the process. Involved will be a man who faked his death to get out of going to meetings, a wine uncle who might become emperor, a living scowl with dangerous shoulders, and other assorted animals.

Expect a lot of bonus rambles in the image alt-texts, which is where I store commentary and jokes that I can't fit into the flow of the main post.

———

Before I dig into the topic at hand, I have to set the scene for those who don't know the game, or have forgotten in the fourteen years since the game launched.

Spoilers in the post below for Act 1-3 of the Imperial Agent, Sith Warrior, and Inquisitor storylines, Act 1 of the Jedi Knight storyline, the post-Act 3 Battle of Ilum flashpoint, and for various expansions including Rise of the Emperor, Knights of the Fallen Empire, Onslaught, and Legacy of the Sith. Assume that all reference links to Wookieepedia contain major spoilers.

SWTOR is an MMO set 3600 years before the Skywalkers crashed through the ceiling tiles of the galaxy, though it's not to say anything was less chaotic back then, just different chaos.

(Pictured: Anakin Skywalker, circa 32 BBY-4 ABY)

In this time, the titular Old Republic is opposed by a Sith Empire, which is precisely as functional as one might expect. After a decades-long conflict that ended with a Sith victory but left both sides exhausted, a state of cold war began. The Jedi, their Grand Temple destroyed, left Republic space to settle on an ancestral world. The Republic, battered and reeling, tried to recover its stride through use of its superior size and resources, and producing a truly unhinged number of superweapons.

The Sith Empire, in some ways, tried to pretend everything was fine for quite a while. They had successfully forced the Republic into a favorable treaty to end the war. They'd gained territory, they had a lot of work to do there.

…But as things started to look more and more like war again, they were left with the uncomfortable realization that they had sorta kinda killed most of the Sith in the last war, and Imperial citizens in good standing weren't producing enough Force-sensitive kids fast enough to rebuild the losses. Might've had something to do with most of them being dead.

The Empire, of course, is an absolute clusterfuck of a society. Slaves toil to maintain its power. Children of a slave and a citizen will be citizens themselves—unless they're "aliens", a category that includes everyone that isn't a human or a Sith pureblood, the original Sith species.

Being a citizen isn't great either: The Force-blind face mandatory conscription into the military, and can never rise to the highest echelons of society. Above them, the Sith act as a semi-hereditary aristocracy of evil space-wizards that serve an immortal, eldritch Emperor, their living god who has also kiiiind of gone AWOL for reasons only a few of them understand. He's torn between doing his job or staring at a living paperweight, and the paperweight has been winning. He also recently got trapped by an evil hole in the ground, it's complicated.

With the Emperor incommunicado, the duties of the state fall to the Dark Council, a ruling body of up to twelve Dark Lords of the Sith. Each have their own sphere of governmental influence, which are, one can only assume, very dark as well.

Presumably, the Dark Council had something to do with the inevitable yet still surprising solution to their space wizard deficit: over a thousand years of laws were suddenly overturned. Slaves, aliens, and prisoners were not only permitted to become Sith, it was now mandatory that they report for induction into training programs if they possessed any hint of Force-sensitivity.

This is how one of the eight protagonists of the MMO gets their start: if you play the Sith Inquisitor plotline, you begin as a former slave who has survived basic training and made it to the Sith Academy, where your teacher dearly wants to kill you. Your first mission: survive school.

I'm sure this is very relatable to quite a lot of you.

Now that I've got my PhD with only a few gray hairs, I'm looking back at this premise and thinking: This would completely upend the social framework of the Empire. You'd have every established Sith Lord in the Empire scrambling to kill these threats to their power, or harness them against their enemies, or both.

This is actually canon, but canon never touches on the broader, systemic implications of what the new Sith would do, and who they were before—Sure, the overseers of the training programs seem to be doing their damnedest to kill and undermine the newbies while maintaining plausible deniability, but enough of them survive to reshape the Empire. We know that. You play as one of them.

How in the fuck did the Dark Council ever manage to get this policy implemented in the first place? Obviously they did somehow, but the specifics are never mentioned.

But the specifics have the possibility to be hilarious.

The Dark Council itself is composed of Sith who either killed their way to the top, or inherited their seat from their Sith master—who they probably murdered. Turnover on most Council seats is incredibly high. The Spheres of Ancient Knowledge, Technology, and Military Offense each have three different Councilors within a single year, for example.

This also means that whoever ends up in charge of a Sphere might be entirely unsuited for it. Who heads up the Sphere of Expansion and Diplomacy? The least diplomatic guy on the Council, naturally. He goes by Darth Ravage, which fits in well enough with the three different Darths whose names mean 'death' (Thanaton, Mortis, and Rictus). The player can even end up as Darth Nox--'Darth Night'. You get the title by killing one of the Darth Deaths.

So, which of these barely-domesticated evil goths probably voted to allow 'inferior' beings to become Sith, overturning a fundamental tenet of imperial sith philosophy? Probably not the guy in charge of Sith Philosophy! We never see him, but he seems to have been a traditionalist. On the other hand, Darth "Murder has no rules" Ravage might not be huge on tradition, so we can mark him down as a "maybe". But he doesn't seem to be an instigator for something like this.

But on the subject of instigators: Darth Jadus.

Darth Jadus is an experience. While many of the other Council members make it quite clear they're angry enough to chew on the furniture, Jadus unnerves all of them by being utterly calm and composed, as long as you don't count how intensely fervent and irrational he sounds when he starts talking about the Dark Side. He's unhinged in a distressingly hinged-seeming way.

Heading up the Sphere of Intelligence, Jadus is a noted iconoclast on the Dark Council, using his authority to open Imperial Intelligence positions to aliens. He chooses slaves and Force-blind citizens to be his advisors and agents, ignoring the traditional power structures of the Sith. He prefers his literal cult following of fanatical adherents instead, who see him as a visionary savior, a terrifying inevitability, or both.

This means he seems to have basically no interest in elevating other Sith. In fact, he hates the way the rest of them run the Empire. Making more of them might potentially be against his interests.

Or at least it would be, if he didn't have some long-running secret plans that he wants to keep the other Dark Council members from catching wind of. Advocating for slaves, aliens and convicts to become Sith would superficially fall in line with his philosophy, and just raising the idea in public could cause such social chaos that his true plans would benefit from it. Jadus is also the most genre-savvy sith in the entire game: he seems to almost be aware at points that he's neither the protagonist nor main antagonist, and thus his evil plans involve not messing with either of them. When he jostles up against the main plot and realizes he has no plausible means to derail it, he responds by leaving the plot entirely.

Given the tactical chaos and uncomfortably fourth wall-touching strategies Jadus makes use of, let's mark him down as a "yes".

But Jadus is an unpopular one on the Council. He's creepy. Sith HATE feeling creeped out. That's supposed to happen to other people, dammit, not them! And with his disinterest in politics and his deep interest in foisting his manifesto on everyone, he's not the most effective Dark Councilor.

He might be able to pull in a few—Darth Decimus, head of Military Strategy, seems to have been quite willing to exploit any advantage he might be able to squeeze out of a situation. Fun side note, his voice actor also played the First Order officer who was just so done with Hux at the beginning of The Last Jedi.

[Video Description: A compilation of Mark Lewis Jones as Captain Moden Canady from The Last Jedi, with the video quality partially encrunchified by YouTube. This includes all of his shots from the film, from arrival of the Seige Dreadnought Fulminatrix, to the extremely annoyed look he gives the fireball that kills him. Sound supervisor Matt Wood was apparently pretty sure "FIRE ON THE BASE!" was going to be used as an EDM drop, and I can confirm, I've heard it out in the wild.]

Who else have we got rattling around in this Council, who might have extremely ridiculous reasons to vote yes? Well, we have Darth Vengean, head of Military Offense, was all about the Offense. Who needs defense? That nerd Darth Marr? HA! No, Vengean wanted to restart the war with the Republic. More bodies for the war machine would probably be fine with him.

Speaking of that nerd Darth Marr, Darth Marr.

Apparently he designed this armor himself. Solid effort, my man.

Marr is in his sixties by the time the game happens. He's one of the longest-surviving Dark Councilors, and he sounds so tired of his coworkers in every scene he's in. Heading up the Defense of the Empire, Marr also is the de facto leader of the Dark Council, by dint of being the only adult in the room.

Much like Jadus, he distances himself from the backstabbery and rivalries among the Council members. Unlike Jadus, he 100% means it, and has been focused on not making the Empire explode. He eventually ends up as the unofficial leader of the Empire until he gets one-shotted so hard it makes his ghost chill out a bit. He keeps the spikes, though.

So, if there's anyone on the Council who might vote for this on purely practical grounds, and has the power to push others into agreeing with him, because so help him if they don't stop holding duels in the conference room he's going to turn this Empire around—

Nobody listens to him on that, by the way. Both the Sith main plots involve duels in the conference room.

In fact, one of those duels is egged on by our last suspect. Marr might be a contender for longest-running Dark Councilor, but there is another candidate: Darth Vowrawn, who seems to be having a much better time being on the Council than Marr. I suspect the only reason why he doesn't have a bucket of popcorn with him in the Council chambers is because somebody made a rule that he had to stop doing that.

Vowrawn is a surprisingly cheerful old bastard who seems to have turned his hobby into his job. He shows up 'fashionably late' to someone else's attempted coup, after lamenting he can't sell tickets to the clusterfuck that's about to commence. In the expansions to the game, he can outmaneuver and outlive all of the competition and end up becoming the Emperor, at the age of 87.

Vowrawn is also indifferent to against the Empire's policies--he supports the ascension of a Zabrak to the Dark Council, and takes one as an apprentice as well. Beyond that, Vowrawn would have to support this move, because he's instrumental in any large project like this, both politically and practically. While the others I've mentioned all have roles explicitly to do with the aggressive expansion or protection of the Empire, Vowrawn heads the Sphere of Production and Logistics. In essence, he's the one who can decide whether all these other bozos get to eat or not.

If Vowrawn didn't accept this change, then it would have failed. So, he's a definite "yes" by default.

Speaking of bastards who are still active well into their eighties, we have one last major figure who isn't on the Council that likely advocated for this: Darth Malgus.

[Video Description: The "Deceived" trailer, set ten years before the game. God, I love this thing. This was the first trailer I saw for the game, and it got me, it really did. The Sith are just as ridiculous as they should be, combined with choreography that feels a lot more crunchy than lightsaber combat had been before, with distinct combat styles for the two main fighters. It's quick, it's impactful, and it's got a memorable conclusion. Love it.]

Malgus is as anti-racist and anti-classist as Jadus is, but without the insane transcendental Dark Side philosophy. Instead, he has an insane philosophy of bettering the Empire through eternal war, which he believes everyone should have an equal ability to participate in. He is what would happen if a Warhammer 40k character had an inside voice.

[Video Description: The "Disorder" cinematic trailer, set before the Legacy of the Sith expansion. Malgus is 75 here. Man's held together by spite and screws and whatever nutrients you can absorb by being thrown through walls. He's fully given up on the Sith Order at this point and is trying to do his own thing, and he makes it look rad. The choreography has only gotten better, goddamn. Why did it take me three goddamn years to watch this. IT'S REALLY GOOD.]

Malgus is a big deal in the military, with a lot of support from both the Force-blind soldiers and earning the loyalty of a surprising cross-section of Sith. We know this, because he nearly hijacks the Empire at one point in the early expansions. He'd be into this idea, and he probably advocated for it. While he'd have the most direct interaction with the military-related Councilors we already have in the "yes" column, he also has a history of annoying the bejeezus out of other Sith on "his" turf, so who knows! He may have been more persuasive to the others we haven't dug into.

And we can't really dig into all of them at the depth we have with some. Despite how bogglingly huge SWTOR is and the two thousand four hundred and ninety-five named characters and "Additional Voices" credits in IMDb, we never meet some of the Dark Councilors. If you don't play all the eight main storylines, you won't see all of them in the game. I'll admit, I've never seen Darth Hadra, because I've never gotten that far in a Republic-aligned storyline! The Sith you encounter in their stories can often be more one-note, because they're purely there as antagonists rather than people you are legally required to hang out with, and thus have more opportunity to pester mercilessly.

[Video Description: A clip from my own Warrior run-through, featuring my big lad Rejalgar, his coolest friend Vette, and his boss, Darth Baras, who is presently having a screaming tantrum, which Rejalgar makes worse with the most delightfully straight-faced "Is there a problem here?". The Warrior plotline lets you play things sincerely evil, sincerely noble, or sincerely hilarious. Do you want to see Jedi bluescreen when a Sith just straight-up refuses to be violent? Do you want to sidestep a boss fight by offering a family a government pension, something your boss commends as being very devious and evil? Do you want to break up a fight between gangs by threatening to eat them? Come play the Sith Warrior storyline, and be the chaos you want to see in the galaxy!]

[Video Description, from a clip I uploaded to YT specifically for this post after I found out you can only upload one video per tumblr post wtf: A clip from my Inquisitor run-through, featuring my extremely shirtless lad, Sericus, playing coy and a little airheaded when called up by his Sith master, Darth Zash. Back in the day, Purebloods weren't supposed to be played as canon for this storyline, but there were tweaks later made to dialog that provided a canon explanation for how someone with visible Sith ancestry could end up in this situation. The storyline, however, unfortunately does not fully account for a character whose ideal job description is 'villain's beautiful and deceptively intelligent consort, the true power behind the throne'. It assumes you're playing a character who wants to go conquer and/or do mad wizard-science. Bonus points for eventually letting you marry your eight foot tall razor-faced cannibal thrall though, that's very fun.]

Why don't we see all of the Dark Council? Well, because they're ultimately not important to the story as a group. Events keep you locked tightly under the purview of just one or two of them on the Sith side of things, before the post-game and expansion plots launch you into the experience of being a major player in Imperial affairs, and Imperial affairs launch themselves at you in return.

Everyone realizes the Emperor wants to eat them. Then he dies, except he doesn't. Malgus takes over the Empire for a few weeks. Marr takes over, but half the Council is dead and the rest are still in orientation and are probably also dead, because their would-be successors assassinated them. The Emperor, only mildly inconvenienced by also being dead, eats a planet. Then things go completely off the deep end, and the Dark Council is no longer your concern at all.

It's economical storytelling to not belabor the rest of the Councilors, and playing through as an ex-slave Inquisitor, you continue to face enough challenges directly linked to your background that the resistance feels systemic, even if you don't actually see all that many others who are facing the same issues.

But I think there's a lot of potential for some really wild storytelling in there. Your character receives some level of basic training before they reach the Sith Academy, along with a whole batch of ex-slaves. What did that entail? How was it organized? What happens when folks from abolitionist movements start being trained as sith, gaining all the attendant legal authority over the life and death of others?

And what about the prisoners who were released for training? While one canon option is to play a character who was facing immediate execution for participation in violent anti-Imperial resistance, at least a fair chunk of Force-sensitive prisoners were probably serving longer sentences. What happens when prison gangs start gaining a foothold in the Sith Academy, where they're too dysfunctional to even form Mean Girl cliques? What happens when some of their members become full Sith? How many of them might have Hutt backing, or even funding from the Republic Secret Intelligence Service?

These are the sorts of things the Sith themselves are terrified of. This earns a very sarcastic thoughts and prayers to them, of course. Yet it truly is wild to think about the decision-making process that went into this massive societal shift that the game treats as simply a piece of inciting incident for two plotlines out of eight: Twelve unhinged people sat down in some extremely high-backed chairs one day and voted to give everyone equal access to lightning.

I love Star Wars, it's just the funniest shit imaginable sometimes.

[chiorisgf]

❕nsfw venti x fairy!reader

summary: as the anemo archon, venti knew about the various wind fairies that inhabit monstadt. they’re usually rather small, almost like a seelie. when he finally found you, a cute little anemo fairy in the wild, he couldn’t help but play with you!

wind fairies in monstadt weren’t very common, but they certainly did exist. you existed in the soft breeze, as nothing but a shining light that dances freely.

you stem from dandelions, only few are blessed by the anemo archon and manage to fully grow your wings and fly. your siblings and your friends were all blown away, living their lives freely as dandelion seeds.

even so, venti has never ever seen one of your kind up until now, when he was strolling around starsnatch cliff. he only meant to pick flowers, and never expected to grab one with such a delicate little thing like you lounging on the petals.

“my my, what do we have here?” he whispers gleefully, his bright teal eyes shimmering as he blinks at your figure.

anemo fairies truly were beautiful.

“a-ah!” you exclaim, your eyes opening as his voice rings through your ears. curse his stupidly loud mouth —!

your body is flung off of the cecilia flower, and as quick as you awoke you find yourself on the floor with a “thud”, your body growing to match his size.

you really could get used to switching forms, you think to yourself with a sigh as your wings twitch and flutter.

though, if you didn’t switch when you did you’re sure you would’ve blown away and blended with the wind.

who is this man?

“how fascinating!” he exclaims, a soft gust of wind carrying his body up to float in the air as he squeals. he can barley contain his excitement as he watches you look up at him with a curious gaze.

“quit staring, mister.” you frown, stumbling to stand up. human bodies are much heavier than your fairy form, you wonder how mortals can lug around all that weight.

venti chuckles at your words, slowly landing back down on the grass as he reaches for your hand, a soft and excited sound leaving his lips as he touches the skin of your palm.

“sorry, sorry. it’s my first time encountering a fairy.” he admits, pulling you up to stand properly.

you don’t miss the way his eyes scan your body, from your feet to the top of your head. he focuses on your wings for a while, watching as they create small breezes of wind with each little movement. 

“i’m just a fairy. nothing special.” you sigh, looking down at your bare feet as warmth pokes at your cheeks. has the wind gotten warmer or is there something wrong with you?

in all honesty, you’re not used to the functions of a humanly body.

“nothing special? nothing special?!” the archon repeats, staring at you with wide eyes as he holds onto your hand tighter. “you’re the most special being i’ve ever laid my eyes upon, my dear.” he hums, leaning closer to you as he inspects your features.

“oh—?” you look back up at him as his hand reaches to brush a few stray hairs behind your pointed ear.

“you know, i’ve always wondered how an anemo fairy like you would react to me..” his hands wanders down your body, avoiding your sensitive wings to brush against your clothing.

it was a thin dress, breathable and easy to flow in the wind. also perfect for venti to bunch it up around your waist and pinch at your hips.

“do this.” he giggles, watching as you flinch slightly. “are you alright with this, sweet fairy?” he asks, his breathy voice ringing in your ears as his free hand reaches down between your thighs.

“i am..” you can only manage to whisper a quiet affirmation, your body relaxing in his hold.

you allow his fingers to nudge at your bare pussy, moaning softly as he rubs your clit gently. you’re already so wet for him, like the good girl he knew you’d be.

one of his hand has a tight hold on your hip, the other hand already plunging two of his slender fingers into your little fairy cunt.

the sounds leaving your lips were more beautiful than any mere song the bard could come up with; he’ll have to sit you down next to him as he plays his lyre sometime.

“look at you,” he teases, his fingers nudging deep into your gummy walls, allowing you to adjust for a moment before he pulls out slightly and slams them back into you, starting a steady pace as moans spill from your mouth. “i didn’t know a delicate thing like you could be so filthy.”

it was so nasty, the way your cunt squelched with each thrust of his fingers. it only took a few more strokes for you to cum around him, moaning softly into the wind around you.

the archon didn’t care that the two of you were out in the open air — for any unsuspecting couple to stumble upon in hopes of finding a good date spot.

this was his land after all, and you’re his little fairy.

“that’s right, my fairy. mine.” he whispers, his voice carried away with a gentle breeze as he presses wet kisses against your neck.

after a few more thrusts of his fingers, he pulled out slightly, teasingly licking at your cum coating his slender digits.

“now, be a good fairy for me and stay still.” he’d coo, caressing your cheek with his free hand as his other tugs down his pants. “such a good, good fairy.”

his voice is as sweet as sugar as his cock springs free, hard and leaking with pre as he aligns himself with your sloppy cunt.

moans and whimpers spilled from your lips as he slowly slid into you, his dick reaching a spot you never even knew humans had — it seemed that a fairy’s body is much different.

as he began to slam his length in and out of you repeatedly, you couldn’t help but throw your head back in a newfound pleasure, your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as your wings fluttered behind you.

your sounds only grew louder as the bard tugged on your wings so gently, almost like a soft breeze brushing against them.

it felt so good when he filled you up like this, your pussy switching lewdly around him with each harsh thrust.

“so good!” you squeal as he reaches impossibly further, lips kissing at your neck and dancing down to your collarbone.

“so good?” he repeats, smirking up at you as he watches your expression contort in pleasure. “how cute.”

it wasn’t long before the two of you got closer and closer, the coil in your abdomen growing tighter and tighter before you came undone around him, whining as he emptied himself inside of you.

he didn’t stop there, though. his pace grew even faster, it was a miracle you managed to stay upright. if it wasn’t for the strange flow of the wind today, it was certain you would’ve tumbled over.

the chilling sensation of the air brushing against the remnants venti’s saliva sent a sweet tingle down your spine as your thoughts drifted away into dumbness.

at this point all you could do is sit there prettily and take the archon’s cock as he pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you.

[eccentricallygothic]

Husband!Robb ‘The Wolf’ Stark | Wife!You.

Warning(s): D/s dynamics, husband Robb Stark, fear kink, power imbalance, doggy style, rough sex, spanking, biting, mirror sex, mention of edging, dacryphilia. Minors do not interact.

“Is it true?” You were tinkering with some medicinal herbs when the children approached you before they crowded around you. You looked up from what you were doing, and then silently raised an eyebrow in question. “That your husband can turn into a wolf at night?” Your breath ceased for a couple moments, heat coursed through your veins and your consciousness drifted into a series of recollections. 

So many times, so many moments, so many nights. 

Different positions, various spots all over the estate and a myopic vision that you owed to the tears that would stain your face. 

And through that barely functional vision images of your parted panting mouth, bent and flush knees, pulled back head -due to the way your hair wrapped around the pale fingers of your eternal ravisher-, neck and breasts painted in purple fang marks, nipples inflamed from how they had been treated, buttocks covered in handprints and arms compliantly folded on the small of your back. Your form pushing face first into the mattress with breath stifling force before being pulled back with a limb tearing strength in such a rapid unceasing cycle that it caused for the brutish violator bent atop you to appear inhuman as he used you in his monstrous way that you could see through the body size mirror placed on the wall in front of your bed. 

Realization seeped through your brain cells. 

Man.

Man-Wolf.

Wolf-Man.

Wolf. 

The dark mop of messed up curls that graced your dear husband and cruel defiler's head was amess as the loose damp strands flew about, his nose flared to help with his panting, chiseled features stern under the dark coarse hairs of his manly beard, beastly muscles tense as he effortlessly held your submissive figure bent to his pleasure with one hand, the other holding one of your compliant legs up in the air in an obtuse angle, his skin covered in a shadowy brown vell in such a way that your opening that his cock had stretched open nearly to the size of a woman's in labor clenched around the man-creature's monstrous girth. The deafening sound of skin colliding against skin was on the verge of marring your eardrums, his piercing dark blue eyes watching you through the mirror all the while.

They watched you even now from across the room where your dear husband and Lord sat telling the stories of his recent expedition to everyone willing.

There were always hundreds if not thousands of those.

Words didn't always require a necessary exchange between the two of you.

Your cheeks threatened to bubble up from the heat compressing itself underneath them. Your fingers had ceased from crushing the herbs between the mortar and pestle long ago. A hot drop of meek arousal sizzled past your covered opening -which blinked in response- and coursed down the insides of your thighs. Your breath hitched as you laboriously swallowed and licked your lips. 

“Mhm” was all you could let out in your shy state that he had influenced with a mere stare. You looked up at the children before you proceeded to nod your head politely so as to not stir the sanctity of your Lord's presence with too harsh a gesture. The children gasped and whimpered before scurrying off, too young and afraid to say it out loud but in their naive minds extremely terrified for your wellbeing. 

The longer you felt The Wolf staring at you the more you sensed yourself sharing the sentiments of the young ones. 

You bit your lip and dared not look up from your work. 

Because you were always tortured cruelly before your taking solely for the purpose of His Lordship's amusement if the eagerness in your eyes was too visible.

And it was always embarrassingly visible.

[hadone]

COMEMİXGO - MEGA+ (4)

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[supremeat]

PANELLO - GOLD

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Wall Profiles: Enhancing Architectural Elements

Wall profiles are essential for adding finishing touches and architectural details to a space. These profiles come in various shapes and sizes, including cornices, architraves, and skirting boards. They serve both decorative and functional purposes, framing windows and doors, covering joints between walls and ceilings, and adding character to otherwise plain surfaces. Wall profiles can be made from materials like MDF, polyurethane, or plaster, each offering unique benefits in terms of durability and ease of installation.

Conclusion: Combining Style and Function

Incorporating slat wall panels, MDF panels, and wall profiles into your design strategy can significantly elevate the look and functionality of any space. Slat wall panels offer flexible storage and display options, MDF panels provide a versatile and high-quality surface for various applications, and wall profiles add refined details that enhance the overall aesthetic. Together, these elements create a cohesive and stylish environment that meets both practical and design needs.

Whether you're revamping a retail space, updating your home decor, or designing an office, these materials offer numerous possibilities for customization and innovation. Embrace their potential to transform your surroundings with elegance and efficiency.