#regular sized robots

[gogglebob]

EWS: Cave Story (Holiday Times)

I have lost track of which videos appear in which EWS Potpourri articles, so new policy: All EWS streams get their own posts! I might forget to do this consistently in the future, but it will be the plan for the next couple of posts. I can stick to something for a few weeks! I swear! So first on the docket is our playthrough of about half of Cave Story. Or maybe it is a complete playthrough, and…

[drowning-in-your-moonlight]

Beauty and the Beast fantasy/medieval Metamy AU but... it's Metal Overlord. Maybe once upon a time, giant robotic dragon harasses the kingdom Amy resides in, and the people decided that they must sacrifice someone to the dragon every year or so to keep from facing its wrath...and Amy volunteers herself.

Not for some self sacrifice, but she's heard rumors of the dragon hoarding beautiful jewels in its lair that hold unstoppable power. Enough power to take down the dragon, enough to save their kingdom. And she must find out.

[no-144444]

The Holidate (2020) - Lando Norris

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

summary: Y/n, who gets mocked for being single, finds the perfect solution when she meets Lando, an F1 driver. Now she has the perfect date for her holidays, but her heart starts yearning for something more.

pairing: lando norris x fem! reader

8.8k words

disclaimer: i do not own anything in these films, the only original character is the character y/n.

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

You stood outside your perfect family home, a cigarette in hand. “Fucking holidays,” you sighed. Quickly grabbing some tic tacs from your bag and putting out your cigarette. You covered your tracks and stood in front of the door, willing yourself not to run away. The house was the image of suburbia and the nuclear family bullshit you were used to, the shit you grew up with and believed until you realised that men weren’t shit and you had to go focus on a career if you wanted to live in Chicago. 

“Happy holidays,” you faked a smile as you opened the door, your mother running up to you with a disappointed look. 

“This is what you’re wearing to Christmas dinner? Don’t you own a dress?” you scolded, and you rolled your eyes. 

“I’m great. Thanks for asking mom,” you sighed, following her into the house while taking off your coat. 

“Y/n!” your sister, Abby, cheered. “You’re here!” She pulled you away from your mother, who was busy complaining about something or other, and brought you close. “Mike said you didn’t call him back.”

“Yeah, I didn’t,” you shrugged. She gave you a stern look. “What? I can’t date a professional clown! I’d never sleep again.”

“Well, you need to date someone! It’s been months,” she complained. 

“Well, no one wants to date someone who lays around in their pyjamas all day,” your mother added. 

“It’s called being a remote worker, mom, and, it’s not like my boss cares,” you scoffed. 

“Are you smoking?” she asked, sniffing you feverishly.

“No mom, I’m not smoking,” you answered, your tone dry and robotic. You gently pushed her off.

“Because no man wants to marry a smoker,” she barked. 

“Good thing I’m not smoking anymore,” you lied. 

“No one wants to marry a smoker,” she instilled. 

“But you-”

“A smoker who lies,” she added, knowing how you’d caught her out. 

As the night went on, in came your brother and his girlfriend, your aunt (with a random guy she’d met the day before), and your brother-in-law with his gaggle of hell-spawn children. 

You watched as the festivities played on, your aunt all over her new man, you sister battling with the drink in her hand while her husband battled their children from shitting in the manger again, and you brother being over-attentive to his girlfriend. Sometimes you pity them. They have to take care of someone all the time, they always have someone there for them, someone to come home to every night, someone to wake up beside every day, it must be exhausting. 

You stood beside your aunt in the kitchen, escaping the happy couples and watching as her new boy gobbled at the food. 

“Isn’t he great?” she giggled. 

You grimaced. “Yeah.”

“Oh come on, it’s not like I’m planning on marrying him, he’s just my holidate,” she brushed off your concern. 

“A ‘holidate’?” you questioned. 

“Yeah, a holidate, y’know a date solely for the holiday,” she explained it like it was the most normal and regular thing in the world. “No commitment.”

“Y/n, I have a friend who wants to meet you!” your brother, James, called from the other room. You rolled your eyes. 

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As you sat at the (kids) dinner table, you were busy getting relationship advice from your 8 year old niece. That had to be a new low. She had a boyfriend, and you didn’t. Could your life get more pathetic?

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You all sat around in the living room, opening presents. Your sister got you pyjamas, two sizes too big. Your brother got you pyjamas, three sizes too big, and your parents got you, you guessed it!- pyjamas. At least those were the actual size. You faked as much enthusiasm as you could, and just smiled and nodded. How much worse could this Christmas get? 

As you all finished up opening gifts, your brother stood up, taking Liz’s hand. 

“Liz, I know it’s only been 3 months, and 6 incredible days, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. Will you marry me?” he asked, his voice full of excitement. 

“Yes!’ she cheered. “Yes, I’ll marry you!” 

Your heart dropped. Your little brother was getting married before you. You were finally cemented as the pathetic sibling, forever. 

Worst. Christmas. Ever. 

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Little did you know, that just a few blocks away, someone else was going through a harrowing Christmas date experience…

Lando walked up beside Mandy, a girl he’d just-so-happened to have met in a random club over the break. He hadn’t planned to come to Chicago, but he just-so-happened to have ended up there, on the basis of Quadrant meetings and deal negotiations being held there. He had gone on two dates with Mandy so far, one of them being the time they met in the club. He had no idea why he hadn’t just flown home to go see his family and siblings, maybe even see Mila and babysit for a while. 

“Your parents know this is our third date, right?” he asked as they stood on the front porch. 

“Of course they do!” she smiled brightly. “I’m not even sure I told them you were coming-”

His heart dropped as the door opened, and they immediately turned to him. 

“Lando!” her mother cheered. “He’s even more handsome than in the pictures!”

“Pictures?” he mumbled, his face dropping. Obviously, he knew people were going to know who he was, he was an F1 driver for fuck’s sake. But something about the way she said pictures made his stomach drop, and he wasn’t sure if she meant pictures that Mandy had taken of him (he never posed for any), or the ones online. Something told him it was the first option, and he felt sick. 

Then ensued a night of pure agony, he was buried in baby photos, old trophies, and a look into this random girls’ life. As he stood in her childhood bedroom, he truthfully asked himself. “Fuck am I?” and groaned when he was called down to dinner. 

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After dinner, he went back up to Maisie’s room- or was her name Mandy? Anyways, to talk about the awful night. 

“What is going on?” he questioned, whisper-shouting.

“My parents fucking love you,” she smirked, pressing her lips to his. 

“What the fuck?” he asked again as she pushed him down on the bed, stripping herself. 

“Come on, y’know you like me,” she smirked, a sultry look in her eye. “You wouldn’t be here on a major holiday if you didn’t.”

“I already explained that I’m here for business purposes and-” 

She started kissing him, and he stopped caring about the strangeness of the situation when she started unzipping his trousers. 

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He sat sandwiched between her parents, matching ugly Christmas sweater on, opening a box full of… swimming trunks?

“Swimming togs… thanks,” he faked as much enthusiasm as he could as they all nodded. 

“They’re skin-tight too, since it makes you go faster in the water,” Mandy explained, a bright smile on her face. 

“Togs, and a project, thanks,” he smiled, trying his best to charm his way out of it all. 

She held out her hands, expecting a present from him and his heart stopped. 

“Me next!” she cheered. 

“You said we weren’t doing presents this year,” he said, feeling the eyes of her parents on him. 

“Pardon?” she questioned, her eyes dangerous. “So you know me well enough to cum in my mouth,”

He looked at her parents and shook his head as she continued. “But not well enough to get me a Christmas gift? Are you shitting me?”

“W-what-” he stuttered before getting up. “Y’know what,” he turned to her parents. “Thank you for the lovely dinner, happy Christmas,” he turned to her. “Maisie, don’t call me again!”

“Mandy,” she corrected, tears in her eyes. “It’s Mandy you asshole.”

“Great, Mandy, then,” he scoffed before starting to walk to the door, then he remembered the ugly christmas sweater he was wearing, and off it came. He threw it to Mandy, and walked out the door.  

Worst. Christmas. Ever. 

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You stand behind some British guy (who you swear you know from somewhere) in the sluggish queue of a random men's department store. 

Said British guy is busy fighting with the sales clerk to take his strange swimming togs back, and you’ve had enough of it. 

“Hey, Cockney, we’ve all been waiting for ages, some of us have jobs,” you scoffed. 

“I’m actually from Bristol,” he rolled his eyes. “And what makes you think I don’t have a job.”

“You’re in the mall on a Wednesday,” quickly, you brought the two pairs of pyjamas that don’t fit you to the front. “I’d like to return these.”

“Hey!” he scoffed. 

“Hey,” you smiled in return.

“I can only offer store credit,” the clerk smiled apologetically, and you sighed. 

“Seriously?” 

“Ha,” The Brit laughed. “That’s what you get.” 

“And sir, I can only offer you store credit as well.” 

“Ha!” you laughed. “That’s what you get.”

“I’ll give you 45 bucks for it all,” the girl behind you in line smiled at the both of you. “And this voucher for the pretzel stand.”

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You walked around the mall with the Brit, enjoying your pretzel. 

“So, how was your holiday season?” you asked, making polite conversation. 

“I spent my Christmas in an ugly Christmas sweater, a strange dinner, and being with people who I think might’ve been in a cult,” he nodded. 

“Well, I'll take your ugly sweater, and raise you a seat at the kids table, my little brother getting engaged, and my mother constantly asking me to date one of her many friends' sons,” you listed. “You sure you don’t want any?” you offered him some pretzel.

“Do you know what that does to your body?” he asked. 

“Oh,” you grimaced. “You’re one of those guys.” 

“What does that mean?” he scoffed. 

“It means you’re the kind of guy to take a billion vitamins a day and talks about your micros and macros,” you laughed. Then you caught sight of the guy your aunt brought to Christmas dinner. “Shit,” you cursed, hiding behind the Brit. 

“What?” he laughed. 

“You see the mall Santa over there?” you asked. He nodded. “That’s the guy my aunt brought home for Christmas dinner, hide me,” you begged, and he walked on with you behind him, hiding you. 

“Who is he anyway?” he asked. 

“Oh, it wasn’t serious,” you chuckled. “He was her Holidate.”

“Holidate?” he questioned. 

“It’s just a person you pick up to spend Christmas with,” you shrugged. “It’s dumb, I know.”

A light bulb went off in his head. “Just Christmas, or all holidays?”

“All of ‘em,” you nodded. “I mean, I guess it’s pretty genius when you actually think about it.”

“That’s exactly what I need for New Year’s, a Holidate!”

You chuckled. “Sorry, pretty sure my aunt is already booked up-”

“No, I’m serious, I am done casually dating on the holidays! I don’t want to do it anymore, it’s exhausting. I always end up being an asshole in some sort of way or-”

“Really? Try being the only single person left in your family, at the age of 24. My little brother, who's 21, by the way, is getting married,” you scoffed. “I mean every time I see them it is a fucking palaver of sad glances and exhausting small talk about one of their ‘friends’. Why is everyone so suspicious of a happy, single woman?” 

“Because it’s obvious you’re not happy,” he said like it was obvious. “Was that a trick question?”

You sighed. “I am happy, thank you very much.”

He chuckled. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Look, humans are meant to be with other people on the holidays, it’s just a fact! We all need warmth… companionship,” he could sense the fact that he was losing you. “And someone to drunk-mock people at parties with!”

“I do enjoy drunk-mocking people,” you pondered. 

“Perfect! We can be each other’s Holidate for New Year’s!” 

You chuckled, walking on. “Funny, I don’t even know you.” 

“That’s what makes it ideal! I don’t know you, you don’t know me! We aren’t expecting anything from each other, other than showing up to the date!”

“Sure…” you sighed. 

“And we’d never sleep with each other as well, it’s a win-win.”

You frowned, a quizzitive look on your face. “Why wouldn’t we sleep together?” He looked you up and down and grimaced. “Christ, calm down with the flattery asshole.”

“Not like that, it’s just you’re not my type,” he explained quickly. 

“Goodbye, or Cheerio, I guess. Since that’s what you say in Bristol,” you scoffed, walking off. 

“Come on, it’d be perfect! No more sad glances, no more kids' table seats. I have tickets to the Skyfall party, and I need a plus one,” he explained, following you. 

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. 

“That’s such a good party,” you sighed, knowing for the years you’d gone to it before. 

“So say yes,” he smirked, knowing he was winning you over. “I just want to have a nice night and know that my date won’t go batshit if I don’t drop down on one knee at midnight with a ring with a quarter of a million pounds.”

“What makes you think I’m not batshit?” you smirked. 

He smiled. “You’re not.”

You smiled back. 

“I’m Lando, by the way.”

“Y/n.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/n, here is my number,” he smiled, handing you his business card. 

“Formula 1 driver and CEO,” you raised an eyebrow. “Do you drive for the orange team?”

“It’s papaya,” he rolled his eyes. “And yes, yes I do.” 

“Don’t girls like… throw themselves at you?”

He sighed. “Those are usually the batshit ones.”

You nodded. “Right.” 

“Just think about the party and text me,” he smiled. 

“I won’t be texting you, I’m more of a RedBull girl myself,” you smirked, walking off. 

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You sighed, thinking over the past new days. Your mom had tried (and failed) to get you to meet with her new neighbour, work was already beating you down, and you just needed some fun. Skyfall party it was. 

Lando, it was. 

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The party was already insane when you walked in, and you two fell into a steady rhythm of guessing peoples’ stories. 

“You look beautiful tonight,” he smiled. 

“Thanks,” you smiled. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Your tits look amazing in that dress,” he smiled, and chuckled when you smiled. “This is great! I can say whatever I want, and I don’t have to worry whether you think I’m a classy guy or not.” 

“I can wear a slutty dress without being slut-shamed, win-win,” you agreed. 

As the night progressed, you found yourself slightly (*very much) drunk and sitting, talking about your awful love lives, and your deep-rooted hatred for the film Dirty Dancing. 

“He’s such a dick to her the entire film, and she has absolutely no self-respect!” you argued.

“But isn’t it romantic or something-?”

“No! It's pathetic that she’s sold as this head-strong, interesting girl who falls for the first guy she sees at a goddamn summer camp for families, likes him the entire time even though he treats her like shit, then gets excited in the end when he finally gives her a chance, because he ‘grew to love her’. It’s bullshit!”

“So who ruined rom coms for you?” he asked. You shook your head. 

“We’re not going there,” you sighed, taking another sip of your drink. 

“I think we’re already here,” he smiled. “You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Luc,” you answered. 

“Christ, he sounds like a wanker,” he giggled. 

“He wasn’t,” you sighed. “He was handsome, intelligent, French.”

Lando scoffed. “What happened?”

“We just… needed different things,” you explained. “I wanted someone to take home for the holidays, he wanted to fuck a barista. It was a super mutual break-up,” you laughed. Lando didn’t. 

“Shit,” Lando cursed. “Ouch.”

“Well, to be fair, he was too good-looking to be trustworthy,” you sighed. “My sister always says to date-down. Then you’ll never get hurt. I gotta piss, I’ll be right back,” you said, then off you went. 

Lando watched as you left, his heart a little heavier than before. 

In the bathroom, a bride-to-be (well, they were getting engaged tonight, one of the many people you and Lando had profiled) was sobbing over a dress and you had decided to be the good person and switch with her, taking her number so she could give the dress back after she got it dry cleaned. 

You came back in a white ruffled dress with a very large red wine stain on it. You sighed. “Don’t even.”

“Did you get stabbed?” he chuckled. “Or is Carrie in now?”

“Shut up Lando,” you scoffed, dragging him onto the dance floor. 

If Lando was a good charmer, he certainly was a good dancer. You two danced along to the fast-paced, pop songs, but then came the slow set at about 10:30. ‘(I’ve Had) The Time Of My Life’ started playing, the spotlight blaring down on you two as the chords played. Your face dropped and he giggled uncontrollably. 

“Nobody puts Baby in a corner,” he cheekily smirked, taking your hand. 

The dance floor cleared off, watching as you two somehow pulled off the jump, only for him to drop you, because he was giggling so hard. 

“Nobody drops Baby on her head,” you reminded him as you two sat out of the dancing, trying to substitute your bruised egos (and bodies) with alcohol. 

“I’m going to go take a piss,” he sighed, getting up. 

Perfect timing. The countdown started just as he left, and you were left to watch all the happy couples french-kiss their way into the new year. You sighed. Had it been your worst date ever? No. Would you call him again? Probably not. You watched as people all around kissed and held the people they loved the most and you couldn’t help but feel… without. Sure, you liked how easy and painless being single was, but it was also lonely. For the first time in a while, you let yourself just feel lonely. It sucked. 

Then, Lando came running back, an apology on his lips. 

“Happy New Year Lando,” you smiled, not as enthused as earlier, but it would do. 

“Happy New Year,” he nodded, still sorry about missing it. He awkwardly kissed your cheek and you just accepted it, hoping next year would be slightly (extremely) different. 

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You two rode in the back of a cab, you looked out the window at the city going by, the streets you knew so well and-

“Tonight was fun,” he admitted. “I had a good time.”

“Not the worst night of my life,” you agreed.

“So… what are your Valentine’s plans?” he questioned. 

“You mean the holiday that’s in two whole months?” you chuckled. He nodded. “I don’t know! I don’t have plans yet.”

“Great, let’s make some!” he smiled. You frowned. “Come on, after that I’ll be busy until the summer! Let’s just go to a movie or something.”

“A lot can happen in two months, Lando,” you explained. “And if I don’t meet the love of my life by then, I have a tradition of buying chocolate and eating it. Alone.”

“Sure,” he shrugged. “If you change your mind, I’m here.”

“You can stay here then,” you scoffed. The taxi pulled up outside your apartment block, and back to your apartment you went, exhausted from the night. Happy New Year to you. 

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“No Valentine’s day date? What?” Liz cried. Agreeing to go wedding planning with her was a bad choice, noted. You were stuck in a bright, flowery, overly-scented room shop of fabrics, designs, and glassware, all of the shit you never thought you’d have to care about. 

“I’m not dying,” you sighed. “It’s a random Thursday where chocolate is either cheap and good, or expensive and good. I’ll enjoy a bath, and go to bed early. Sounds perfect to me.”

“You should call mom’s neighbour!” Liz suggested. “What’s his name?”

“No,” you sighed. “I am not going out with someone that my mother sets me up with.”

“But what about the wedding? You can’t be single at the wedding,” Liz sighed. 

“You mean the wedding that’s 8 whole months away?” 

“Exactly! What will you do?”

“I am more than happy to be single, I don’t have to share a bathroom, a bed, or a kitchen with a man,” you argued, and Liz nodded, kind of agreeing with your philosophy (your brother was a gross dude). “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve some chocolate to buy.”

As you walked to the chocolate shop in the mall, you couldn’t help but think of Lando. Maybe he’d gone off with some model, or some actress. Maybe he was in Ibiza right now partying the night away with his other famous friends. Or maybe he was right outside the shop, watching you see your ex and his fiance for the first time since the break up. 

Fuck. 

You stood, watching the two of them canoodle in front of you in line, and your heart sank slightly. Great. A model. 

“Y/n?” Luc questioned, turning to you. 

“Luc,” you faked as much enthusiasm as possible, just to keep your voice from breaking. 

“How have you been?” he asked.

“Good,” you smiled, trying to sound sure of yourself. “What about you?”

“Busy,” he chuckled. “Oh, this is Nicola, my fiancé!” He introduced you to the gorgeous woman next to him. She was basically you, same hair, eye colour, build, but if you put the tiktok beauty filter on you, and turned it up to 100. 

“Fiancé?” you gawked, pretending to sound excited. 

“Nicola,” she smiled, holding out her hand to be shaken. You took it shaking it.

“Hey baby,” Lando smiled, wrapping an arm around you as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, joining in beside you. “You get the stuff for the party?”

Luc and Nicola’s faces dropped in shock. 

“Yeah, babe,” you played along. “This is Lando, my boyfriend,” you turned to the two of them, smiling. 

“You didn’t tell me your college friends were in town,” he smiled. “How’s clowning going?” 

You held back a laugh, realising you had told him the story of the couple you’d met in your 3 days of clown college. It wasn’t for you, hence not being able to call your sisters’ clown friend back about a second date. 

“Oh, we’re not clowns,” she chuckled, trying to play it off as a joke.

“Oh gosh!” Lando faked embarrassment quite well. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea-”

“No, that’s alright,” Luc stopped him. “It’s lovely to you Lando-”

“Yeah, well, we’d better run, big plans tonight,” Lando interrupted, paying for your chocolate and taking your hand. “We have a flight to catch.”

“Where are you going?” Nicola questioned, but you were already being pulled out of the shop.

“Holy shit that was awful!” you cursed. “Why is it that the new girlfriend has to be younger and hotter?” 

“Here, drink this to calm yourself,” he handed you his drink, and you took a sip. 

Green juice, gross. 

“God, I’m going to be sick,” you sighed, dramatically sitting on one of the mall benches. 

“Well, usually the younger the girl, the less chance of commitment being an issue,” he explained. “Men think like that, at least, I think they do.”

“But you don’t?” you snarkily raised an eyebrow. He chuckled. 

“I try not to,” he giggled. “And anyways, it’s kind of a compliment anyways.”

“You're right!” you cheered. “Nicola is a cry for help.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you drunk?”

“Maybe,” you sighed. “Those Guinness truffle things are pretty strong. You want one?”

“No, I'm alright, thanks.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh yeah, you’re a professional athlete.”

“Don’t say it like it’s a joke,” he scoffed. “I am.”

“You’re just being a pussy,” you shrugged. “Real athletes enjoy chocolate. Ask Lewis Hamilton.” 

“I can if you want me to,” he smirked. 

“I trust that my favourite driver enjoys chocolate, thanks though.”

“Lewis is your favourite?” he scoffed, turning to you. 

“I’m hardly going for the fucking papayas,” you chuckled. 

“Anyways, if I wasn’t such a pussy, you would still be in a fucking sweet shop talking to your ex-boyfriend and his new fiancé,” he smirked. “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you,” you replied. “I owe you one.”

“I will take my hand job in the car park, thank you very much,” he chuckled, obviously laughing. 

“A hand job?” you scoffed. “What are we? 15?”

“You were giving out hand jobs at 15?” 

“Most of us weren’t 3 feet tall at age 15,” you teased. 

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As the months went on, you blew through St. Patrick’s day and Easter, finding out about Lando’s heartbreak along the way. His ex-girlfriend Luisha and him had broken up over the simple reason of his fans hating her more than life itself. As the F1 season began, you stayed busy with work while he travelled and drove, and every now and then you’d text each other about your days, or call to catch up. 

It was nice, having someone to talk to. Lando didn’t judge you the way your family or friends did. He liked you for you, and you tolerated him for him.

The night of Cinco De Mayo came around the corner, and you had invited Lando to come to a random bar and get fucked up together. He’d just won Miami the day before, and he was riding high. You two danced, drank, and sang the night away, eventually waking up in your apartment. 

Waking up in your aparmtent, in only your bra and his boxers. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, the bright light basically blinding you, as the hangiety and headache began.

“Morning,” his voice was groggy and deep. “I guess we…”

“No way,” you sighed, pushing yourself up off the floor- how did you get there? “There’s no way we would’ve… one of us would remember.” 

“You can’t tell? You’re wearing my boxers, Y/n,” he smiled. “If we did it’s fine, right? We’re both adults, we can move past it.”

You grabbed your own panites from the floor beside you, and quickly hid behind a tall chair to change. “There’s no dried patch on my thigh, no wrapper on the floor, nothing hurts, I don’t feel strange,” you listed. “Can’t you tell?”

“I just feel like shit,” he sighed.

“Right, so we didn’t do it,” you offered. 

“Let’s go with that,” he nodded, giving you a thumbs up. 

“Coffee?” you offered. 

“Yeah, please,” he groaned, closing his eyes again. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You two went through Mother’s Day (meeting his mom and pretending to be his girlfriend was terrifying, but you kept it together), and eventually you invited him to your yearly 4th of July party at your parents lake house, but he was too busy racing in Silverstone, so he invited you (and your family) to come to the race. 

You watched as he sped down the main straight, full of anticipation. Right now, Oscar was in the lead for the WDC and McLaren was leading the WCC as they continued winning race after race. Lando really wanted this one though, he had to win his home race. 

You’d really gotten into F1 in recent months, and you had started to actually enjoy the races, not just watch  them because Lando was driving. 

You watched as he sped down the main straight, rain pouring down, this was his final flying lap, the one that would put him over Oscar, up to pole position and-

He spun out. 

“Fuck!” you shouted, shocked at the scene in front of you. The session was red flagged and everyone went back into the pits. While you watched, on the edge of your seat, as he was carried out of the car and put into a medical car. 

You sprinted down to the garage, ready to see him. You couldn’t let him get hurt while you were there, that meant you were his bad luck charm or something. You couldn’t have that. You watched as he exited the medical car, right outside the McLaren garage, and you breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped out, looking mostly unharmed.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, taking his hand. “You’re alright after that?”

He shrugged. “Maybe? I have to go get checked-”

“You need someone to go to the hospital with you,” Will interrupted. “We’re going to stay back and work on the data, you have someone?” 

Lando looked at you with wide eyes. “Ummm-”

“He does,” you nodded. “I’ll come with you.”

He gave you an appreciative smile. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

“The doctor will be in shortly,” Maisie, his very annoyed nurse smiled as the both of you tried desperately to hold in your laughter. 

“Thank you,” you smiled, and as she left the room you and him burst into laughter again. You weren’t even sure you knew what you were laughing about, but that was fine with the two of you. 

In came… you mom’s neighbour? 

“Faarouq?” you questioned. “You’re in England?”

“I volunteer here,” he explained. “Flew in to reconnect this guy's finger, and now I’m just staying a few extra days since they’re understaffed.”

“Oh,” you smiled. “That’s awesome.”

You hadn’t noticed it before, but he really was lovely. He was kind, he volunteered, he was a doctor. He was great. 

Lando watched as you and he chatted and he couldn’t help but feel himself deflate. He didn’t know why, but seeing you with him made him… something. He wasn’t sure. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

No issues, all healthy, might experience some neck pain. Clean bill of health.  

You walked him up to his hotel room, his arm around your shoulder. You’d honestly had a brilliant day with Lando, the best 4th you’d ever had. 

You lay him down in his bed, handing him a glass of water. 

“Sorry for ruining your 4th,” he sighed. “You probably should’ve been with your family.”

You brushed it off. “Holidates should never leave a holidate behind,” you chuckled. “And anyways, it was a pretty fun day.” 

You put a hand on his shoulder, assuring him of your answer, and he put his hand over yours. You both felt it, looking at each other just a little bit too long for it to be platonic, but you quickly ended it, leaving as soon as you could.

He was a Holidate, nothing more. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

“Our hands touched,” he told Max as they set out for a day of golfing. 

“Holy shit,” he gasped. “Did you use protection?”

Lando scoffed as Max laughed. 

“I’m telling you there was a… moment, or something,” he sighed. “I’m starting to really like her.”

“Oh shit, you’ve got to get out then,” Max turned serious. 

“W-what do you mean?”

“Mate,” he groaned. “You’re a fucking F1 driver who is trying to win a World Championship right now, do you think you’ll have all the time in the world to date someone?” “But… the weddings’ coming up- and it’s on labour day. Technically that’s a holiday.”

“You’re already in too deep, bring someone else,” Max instructed. 

“Max I can juggle two things at once-”

“Mate, you’ve worked your entire life for this, do not fuck it up for some girl!”

Lando saw the truth in what he was saying (even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear), and he sighed. “I guess you’re right. I’ll text her tonight.” 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You walked into the wedding, a sour look on your face. You date, Farrouq (your mom’s neighbour) clung to your aunt all night while Lando’s date was some super model that made you want to run and hide. 

“Hi,” he smiled, coming up to you at the bar. 

“Hi.”

“Enjoying the wedding?” 

“Yup,” you nodded. “You?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” he agreed. 

“Your date seems nice,” you mentioned. 

“She left a little while ago,” he admitted. 

“Oh shit, sorry,” you cursed. “I genuinely meant it. I didn’t see her leave-”

“Yeah, it’s alright,” he shook his head. “No harm done.”

You took a sip of your drink and looked behind you to see your aunt tounging your date, and you sighed. “Any plans for halloween?”

“I’m working on it,” he agreed. Holidates once again. 

Max would murder him. He didn’t feel too guilty about it. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

Halloween rolled around and Lando put you in a fucking pirates costume with a very tight corset, but you understood that’s what you get when you put a dude in charge of costumes. You sat with your sister at the bar, waiting for Lando to catch your eye when you felt hands around your waist. 

“Ahoy mate,” he whispered, giggling.

“Fuck!” you jumped. “You scared me!”

He laughed, then stopped when he actually looked at you. “The costume looks… amazing,” he smiled, starstruck. 

“Thanks I feel like a total slut,” you joked. 

“Well you look like one too,” Abby added. “Go get a drink or something,” you scoffed, shooing her off. You turned to Lando. “What’s the plan for tonight?” 

“Get fucked up?”

“Sounds perfect!” you smiled, then took a swig of your beer. The night went off with some dancing, some chocolate, and then in came Luc with a very pregnant Nicola. 

Pregnant. Pregnant. She was fucking pregnant. You stood there in stunned silence as everyone caught up, shocked at the fact that she was pregnant. 

“Holy fuck! She’s pregnant, pregnant!” you complained as you walked through the party, feeling increasingly sick. 

“Come on, you just need a drink,” Abby scoffed, handing you some punch. 

Your stomach turned. “No, no, I’m really sick,” you shook your head, bracing yourself against the table. 

“Are you alright?” Lando asked, holding your waist. 

“No,” you leaned into him. “Not at all.”

“Should I bring you home?” he offered. 

“I’ll just get a cab, I’m alright-”

“Holidate rule number three, never leave a date behind,” he reminded you, so you let him get in the cab with you. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

It hurt. It hurt so bad. Mixing alcohol with red dye 40 and about 50 mini candy bars was not a good idea. You whined as Lando had to physically pick you up and carry you to the lift of your aparmtnt, 

“Wait, she’s due next week right?” you did the maths in your head. “They did it on Valentine’s day!” you sobbed. 

“Everyone does it on Valentine’s day,” he reasoned. 

“I didn’t!” you screamed. 

He thought back. “Hey! I didn’t either!” 

Then the lift dinged and he dragged you in, listening as you spiralled. 

Then that awful noise. Then the awful feeling. 

“Untie me,” you said, your voice low, sober.  

“Huh?” 

“Untie me,” you instructed, gasping at the strings of your corset. 

“What- how the fuck do you untie this?” he asked, gripping at the strings. 

“I don’t know! Just untie it!” you shouted. 

“I can’t, it’s like-”

“Rip it Lando, fucking rip it!” you shouted. 

“I’m trying, it’s-”

The elevator dinged and behind the doors an old couple appeared, looking less than impressed. You realised how bad it looked, but truly, it was much worse than what they were thinking. They closed again, and up another floor they went. 

You needed to get to a toilet, now. 

You both ran to your door, him ripping off your corset at the last moment before you shut the bathroom door, and thankfully you made it, but not without sobbing crying on the toilet. Fuck your sister and her accidentally giving you laxatives. 

You sat in your bath as he held the shower head to your back. 

“Don’t even look at me,” you sighed. 

“I’m not,” he said, and he wasn’t. He was trying his absolute hardest not to look at you. Even though you’d almost actually shit yourself, even though he’d heard you sobbing crying, somehow, you were still the most gorgeous person he’d ever seen, and as much as he wanted to he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He looked back at you and smiled, when he was sure you weren’t looking. Something in his heart leaped, and he knew he should’ve been weary, but he almost didn’t care. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You sat in bed as he brought you a glass of water and you sighed. “So… I guess I’ll be a story you tell at parties now? Half of Monaco will know me as the girl who-”

“The girl who shit her pants on Halloween?” 

You groaned. “Fuck off.”

He chuckled. “I meant it when I said I’d seen worse, and don’t worry, I won't tell anyone. Promise.” 

You turned back around to face him and smiled. “Thank you.”

He offered you a soft smile, and you both fell asleep like that. 

Waking up? That was a different story. You gently opened your eyes to see a very asleep Lando. His eyes scrunched up, an arm around you, his face closer to yours than it had ever been, and you smiled. The way his nose scrunched up, the moles on his face, his long eyelashes, I mean… you knew he was gorgeous before but up close? It was practically unfair. 

Then his eyes fluttered open, and he moved his arm back, staring at you the same way you were staring at him. Again, another moment. His eyes on you, having him so close. It all drove you crazy. 

He didn’t feel much different. He was tired of this charade, pretending he wasn’t head over heels in love with you. Like he didn’t clear his schedule the second you’d asked him if he was free on Halloween. Then he moved closer, as if he was going to kiss you. He knew you wanted it too-

You covered your mouth with the covers. “I hate it when people kiss in the morning in movies, I think it’s disgusting,” you chuckled.

He laughed. God, you were adorable. He smiled at you for a moment, then moved your hand down, looking to you for approval. You nodded, and he kissed you. 

And it was everything you’d ever wanted in a kiss. The sparks flying, the silent feelings, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy. Lando made you feel like that. He made you feel… amazing. And it was everything he’d ever wanted in a kiss too. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You resurfaced after your soft morning sex and stood in the kitchen, both of you a little bit sweaty and tired. 

“We should probably-”

“You can go, if you want,” you offered, hoping you hadn’t said the wrong thing. Lando was a famous, rich guy, he probably had casual sex all the time. You didn’t want to be one of those crazy girls that thinks that sex ties you to a person (even thought it was more than just sex to you), so you have to let him go, right? 

He looked like a deer in headlights. “Do you want me to leave?”

“I mean, I don’t mind. I don’t want you to feel obligated to stay or anything-”

“Obligated?” he questioned. 

“Well, Halloween is over, right? Holidate ending? See you at Thanksgiving?” you joked. 

His heart broke slightly. “Right.” 

Then the doorbell rang. 

You ran over, opening it as quickly as you could, only to reveal your sister, absolutely trashed. Lando stood against the counter, sighing. How could he let himself fuck this up too? You were amazing. You were the best thing that had happened to him all year. It was ridiculous how much he looked forward to your calls and texts, how often he checked his phone just to see the ‘group photo’ of you, him, Max, and your family that he’d taken at the wedding. You, with his arms around you. Even if you two were fighting that week, you still chose to stand beside him in the photo, and let him hold you. That meant more to him than anything. He groaned, hitting his head against a cabinet. How did he fuck it all up?

“I kissed the black panther!” Abby sobbed. “I kissed the guy, at the party, dressed as the black panther!” 

“W-what?” you scoffed, holding her as she cried, sending a ‘help me’ look Lando’s way. 

“I am a terrible person!” she screamed into a pillow sobbing. 

“Morning Abby,” Lando smiled. She stopped crying and turned her attention to him. 

“Morning Land… holy shit you two had sex!” 

“We did not!” you argued. 

“We didn't?” Lando asked, his voice quieter than usual. He put down his coffee mug. 

“Oh…” Abby sighed. “I should- I should go.”

“NO! No, you- you stay! I’ll make some breakfast-” you pleaded, grabbing her hand.

“It’s alright Abby, you stay, I’ll go,” Lando nodded, grabbing the last bits of his costume. “Okay?” he looked to you, hoping against hope that you’d ask him to stay. You didn’t. “Okay.”

“Bye! See you at Thanksgiving!” 

The look he gave you as he was leaving told you he wouldn’t call you again. 

How did you always fuck everything up?

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

“Mate, she shoved me out the door,” Lando sighed, doing anything but looking over the data.

Will sighed. “She didn’t even want a cuddle?”

“Nothing! We had half a cup of coffee in blissful silence, then she kicked me out!” he groaned. “Ugh! Why is dating so hard!”

Will chuckled. “It’s alright mate, there’s plenty of other fish in the sea-”

“But they’re not Y/n! I want Y/n. I want my Y/n,” he whined. “Y’know what the last thing she said to me was? ‘See you at Thanksgiving’, like it didn’t even mean anything to her. Like I was fucking meaningless.”

“At least you’ve still got her as a Holidate-”

“I cannot do that anymore,” he admitted. “I can’t just… pretend to be in love with her when I actually am.” 

“No, mate, you’ve got to keep going with it. You just act like nothing has changed and she’ll come crawling back. It’s a foolproof idea!” ౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

God, you hated Thanksgiving. Your mother couldn’t cook, your sister was busy asking you about that guy she kissed at the party, and Lando was nowhere to be seen. As you opened the front door ready to run to the supermarket and buy an entire Thanksgiving feast, you were met with the face of Lando Norris. 

“Hi,” he smiled sadly. 

“Hi,” you smiled. “I have to run to the store so you can…”

“Great,” he nodded. “I’ll drive.” 

You had realised that in the 11 months you’d known each other, you hadn’t ever driven with him. “Not too fast, not all of us have the neck of an F1 driver,” you teased, hoping to lighten the mood. He just nodded with a reserved smile on his face. Challenge failed. 

You sat in the car as he drove (definitely over the speed limit), awkwardly wondering what to say. 

“How have you been?” he asked, his hands gripping the wheel. 

“Good, busy,” you explained. “You?” “Good. Busy,” he answered, his hands gripping the wheel even harder. You were both silent for a moment. “Are we seriously just going to pretend it never happened?”

“That works for me,” you nodded, thinking that’s what he really wanted. 

“Well, for the record, I wasn’t the one who wanted to leave that morning,” he sighed. 

“It’s not like you were asking to stay, plus, you didn’t even want to have sex with me in the first place. You’re not attracted to me, remember?” 

“Why can’t you let that go?”

“Because when a guy opens with the fact that he doesn’t find you attractive, it kind of sets the tone for the relationship-” 

“I was some random guy at the mall, what would you have said if I opened with ‘hi I think you’re insanely beautiful’?!”

You both paused for a second. 

“Y/n, come on. Everything about you is beautiful. Your smile, your personality, your humour. You would’ve never gone out with me, definitely not on New Year’s.”

You were both quiet again. 

“Does that change anything for you?” he looked at you, eyes pleading. You had to make a choice. 

“No.”Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes. Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.

Why did you have to be so good at protecting yourself? 

“Fucking hell- you’re trying so hard not to feel anything because you’re scared of getting hurt, so you’re lying to the both of us-”

“Maybe I just don’t feel the same, Lando. Not every girl will fall at your fucking feet,” you scoffed. 

“Fine. Enjoy the rest of your holidays, alone, at the kids table, blaming everyone but yourself for your problems.” 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

How did you fuck it up so badly? You walked back in. 

“Where’s Lando?” Abby asked. 

“Don’t know, don’t care.” 

“What? What did you do?” Your brother asked. 

“What makes you think it was my fault?” you scoffed. 

“You should call him, he’s a good guy,” Abby added. “You should just call and apologise.”

“Why do you think it was my fault?” 

“Well if you were honest with him we could probably get through one holiday without your personal life ruining dinner for everyone,” your mother sighed. 

“My personal life?” you scoffed. 

“Is a mess,” Abby interjected. 

“Ok, my personal life might be a perpetual mess but at least I didn’t kiss some randomer at Halloween!” you argued. 

“You fucking bitch,” she cursed.

A chorus of ‘who’, ‘what’ and ‘how’ quickly fell upon the room, until it was all drowned out by Peter, her husband. 

“You kissed someone else?”

You clapped a hand over your mouth. “I am so sorry I thought you’d told him-”

“I saw no tongue,” York, your brother added.

“You saw and didn’t tell me?” Liz questioned. 

“You can’t keep a secret,” he shrugged. 

“How would you know that, you know nothing about me!” she scoffed, getting up. 

“I trusted you!” Peter cried. “You went alone, I-I thought I could trust you-”

“I go everywhere without, a-and you never have any time for me because you’re always stressing about the kids-”

“One of us has to!” he shouted. 

Then your aunt’s date had a literal heart attack, and you were all stuck in silence as the ambulance rolled away with him inside. He would be fine, but you and your aunt went with him (not by choice) just for good measure. He was fine in the end and your aunt even met the love of her life at the hospital. 

Shittiest Thanksgiving ever. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

As Christmas rolled around and you watched the F1 season come to a close, you watched as Lando finished second in the standings, just behind Oscar. You missed him. You missed texting and calling him, you missed watching him crack bad jokes and laugh until his stomach hurt, you missed his fluffy hair and pretty face. 

You missed it all. The worst part was that he was right. You were just too afraid of being in love and putting your heart on the line, that you messed up the best thing that had ever happened to you. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

He walked through the same mall that he’d met you in a full year ago, and he sighed. He was empty, alone in Chicago once again, and he was done. Another chance at a WDC that he pissed away, and he was really starting to wonder if he truly had a place in the sport. Then he thought back to you, the way you liked him even without his race suit, without his money, without everything everyone else liked him for. You. He chuckled, he was probably just another Holidate to you, someone you wouldn’t even think about. 

Then he saw you as the escalators passed, and the way you looked at him gave him a glimmer of hope that he was wrong, that you did care. But you were gone in a flash and he knew he should just let it die. 

“There he was!” Abby squealed. “Go talk to him!”

“I can't, I'd just… it wouldn’t work. He hates me!” 

“Y/n, life is giving you a moment right now, take it!” 

And that’s how you ended up with a microphone in hand in the middle of a mall desperately trying to get the love of your life back. 

Thankfully, he said yes. And yes, it was videoed and put on the internet hundreds of times, too bad he’s a public figure. 

But that didn’t matter. You two were happy. 

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

a very f1 christmas! masterlist (2024)

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[muletia]

First kiss with Orion, but I lose 10 aura points cuz I’m immediately red faced, giggling like a manic after. Such a handsome robot man, frfr

𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

[tfp] obsessed!orion pax x human!reader

summary: you share your first kiss with orion :))

cw: fluff, slightly suggestive, mentions of jealousy, implied stalking (nothing serious tho), orion is very awkward in this

word count: 1600

Orion had once again invited himself into your garage.

You spotted the familiar semi-truck even before you turned into your driveway, making the motto "robots in disguise" utterly useless. After all, a giant Peterbilt barely fitting in a regular garage for cars was incredibly conspicuous and, worse, drew suspicion. You’d already fielded nosy questions from neighbors about that particular truck more times than you could count, but luckily, the excuse of a visiting boyfriend still managed to smooth things over. It wasn’t even far from the truth, considering you and Orion had recently entered that odd pre-relationship stage.

The grass on the side of the lawn now had permanent indentations from where you’d been parking your car. The grooves matched the shape and size of your tires perfectly, a result of Orion visiting so often and staying so long that your garage had essentially been repurposed, evicting your poor, lifeless car to sleep outdoors. Sometimes you wondered if he did it on purpose, jealous of your other mode of transport. You wouldn’t be surprised; Orion had a knack for overthinking the smallest issues—things that didn’t bother you at all.

So, as usual, you left your displaced car outside in the same spot as always (you were even convinced you could feel the tires sinking into the grooves) and headed toward the garage. You caught sight of Orion adjusting his side mirrors to keep you in view, and you couldn’t help but smile at the small, endearing gesture.

“Hi, Orion,” you greeted him while closing the garage door. “Been waiting long?” The question was rhetorical—he always arrived early. Once, you’d left work early to run errands and still had a couple of hours to spare. Naturally, you planned to spend them at home. When you pulled into the driveway, Orion was already there. He’d gotten such a scolding that day he was on the verge of tears and hadn’t visited you for a few days afterward. Yet the habit of waiting had become so ingrained in his processor that he soon resumed the routine.

“Greetings, [Name],” he responded, transforming carefully so that his helm wouldn’t hit the ceiling, which already bore plenty of scars from startled jerks, miscalculated transformations, and certain... blue fluids. “Just a few kliks.”

You hummed in response, making it clear you didn’t believe him but weren’t interested in pressing the issue. Feeling his intense and impatient gaze, you set your bag down by the door to the house and finally turned your full attention to him. The reward was a soft, delighted smile.

He moved closer, unable to tolerate too much distance between you. It looked awkward and somewhat comical as he shuffled his knees and elbows across the floor like he was crawling, but the cramped space of the garage left him no better option. That said, it worked. Within moments, his large, expressive faceplate was mere inches from yours, and the optics on it cast a blue glow on you in the dim light of the garage.

You didn’t miss how those same optics flicked briefly to your lips before meeting your gaze again. The only evidence of the moment was the slightly louder whir of his cooling fans.

“[Name],” he began, “I would like to ask you something. May I?”

“Sure?”

“Thank you. Could you explain the symbolism of kisses to me?”

Straight to the point, as always.

“Ah, well, okay,” you started, by now accustomed to his frequent questions about human culture—particularly those related to dating. “A kiss is a way to express feelings and physically convey them to someone else. People kiss to greet each other or show love.”

“With their... lips?”

“Exactly,” you nodded, suddenly feeling oddly flustered. Flirting with him was one thing, but an abrupt conversation about something as intimate as kissing was a whole other level. Especially when his face was so dangerously close to yours, silently begging for a kiss.

You cleared your throat, trying to regain composure and break the tension by averting your eyes. However, out of the corner of your vision, you saw Orion frantically trying to reestablish eye contact, his optics darting around in search of yours. It didn’t help that he looked crestfallen, as if learning that lips were essential for kissing had personally ripped the spark from his chest.

“Oh... I see,” he sighed, lowering his helm slightly. He looked like a dejected puppy, and suddenly, you felt an overwhelming urge to console the poor thing.

“Now I have a question,” you said, immediately catching his attention. The dejected puppy look disappeared, replaced by curiosity and the devoted focus he always reserved just for you. “What’s brought on this sudden interest? Got a human on your mind?” It was meant as a joke, but his embarrassed expression made you realize you should’ve kept your mouth shut.

“Recently, I’ve been delving into human literature, and this concept appeared frequently. I conducted independent... research but preferred to ask you for confirmation.”

Because he couldn’t tell you he’d spent the past few days reading an overwhelming amount of science fiction romance about interspecies relationships. And he especially couldn’t tell you that he favored stories where he could imagine himself as the protagonist and cast you as the love interest. As for the endless hours he’d spent meticulously fantasizing about your romantic connection, intimacy, and the physical closeness that came with it—not even Unicron could drag that confession out of him.

“So, am I correct in assuming that Cybertronians don’t kiss?” you added.

“No,” he replied, his tone almost mournful, as if the very notion pained him. “Without lips, we convey feelings differently.”

“Would you like to try?”

He blinked several times, his cooling fans whirring louder again.

“Pardon?”

“Would you like to kiss?” you clarified. “To see what it’s like for yourself?”

Yes. Yes. YES. He’d dreamed of this moment in countless ways, wanting so badly to express his feelings in a human way, hoping you’d understand how much he cared for you—how much he adored, admired, and cherished you. The need for closeness threatened to overwhelm his rationality, but he managed to keep his composure, though his frame trembled slightly with excitement.

“You truly... truly have no objections? I would never wish to coerce you into such... carnal gestures.”

“Orion, darling, you’re not coercing me into anything. This is entirely my conscious decision.”

“And does the setting not bother you? My research suggested that kisses should occur in more romantic environments.”

“Nothing about this bothers me,” you assured him. “So? Shall we try?”

“Yes. Yes, please.”

You didn’t even have the chance to ask how he envisioned it before he suddenly began shrinking, using mass-shifting to make things easier for both of you. In mere moments, he reduced himself to an impressive but more manageable three meters tall, kneeling as though preparing to propose. You had to remind yourself repeatedly that he didn’t know the implications of that pose, and you needed to pull yourself together because your cheeks were likely redder than his armor.

“May I?” he asked at last.

“Of course,” you whispered.

A warm, solid servo cradled your head, digits gently tangling in your hair. He was cautious, clearly determined not to hurt you.

You thought he might hesitate, regretful of the situation he’d placed himself in, but he quickly proved you wrong. Carefully, he covered your lips with his own. Not hesitantly—he was far from shy—but inquisitively, exploring uncharted territory while aiming to bring you pleasure. And he succeeded wonderfully.

You pressed your lips against his, completing the kiss, which prompted him to draw you closer. To avoid losing your balance, you grabbed onto his chest plating, your thumb brushing against his cool windshields.

The first kiss was incredibly gentle yet awkward. You could tell Orion had no idea what he was doing, relying solely on movies, descriptions, or whatever else he’d found online. The absence of actual lips also affected the quality, but you could sense the subtle puckering on his part, just as awkward as the entire kiss.

You were convinced he must have practiced the maneuver on his own.

You didn’t want to interrupt him, enchanted by the sweetness of his gestures, his tenderness, and his endearing awkwardness. But the kiss literally took your breath away. You tried to hold on a bit longer, savoring the feeling of bliss and an odd sense of rightness, as if teaching an alien how to kiss was your everyday routine. And honestly? You fervently hoped it would be.

Reluctantly, you pulled away to catch your breath. Orion chased after you for a moment, unwilling to end the kiss, but eventually relented, his optics clouded as he watched you inhale deeply. He didn’t seem entirely present in this reality.

Chuckling at his utterly smitten expression, you brought him back to Earth.

“Please... I need more. This is incredible, [Name], unimaginably wonderful. If you don’t mind?” he leaned closer again, pressing his forehead to yours.

Still laughing, you tried to meet his gaze, but the sight of his love-struck, besotted optics filled you with uncontainable joy. You hadn’t expected to feel such elation from a simple kiss, yet here you were, unable to stop smiling. And his faceplate was so close...

“[Name]?” Orion tried again, this time more concerned than yearning.

“I’m fine!” you reassured him, finally meeting his optics as you fought off the remnants of laughter. “It’s just... I’m really happy right now.”

“I understand. So am I.”

“So... would you like to...”

“Yes. Please.”

He kissed you again, this time more confidently and even more fervently.

[miidsch]

had to lay down my thoughts about their designs before making more art of them <- said as if I won't be changing these designs in like the next drawing

also misc thoughts that I didn't add in the pics:

Outside of the Dark World, Tenna's body loses all the wackiness and becomes a regular robot

Mettaton had to rely on himself to get his robot body ready and he learnt a bunch of stuff about robotics/mechanics/engineering, so he helps Tenna with his body issues. which are a lot due to the fact that he's Old And Rusty ™

Is Mettaton's body a mecha? Does his ghost form posses the robot body? idk whichever I feel like it in the moment

You can see the fuel disappear as he uses it up and he becomes more tired the less of it there is

Mettaton's ghost is the size of Spamton

Mettaton forgets about the side buttons on Tenna's head and will often press them accidentally when he cups his head

On the other hand Spamton will press on purpose them to mess up with him

I know people often draw Spamton as a puppet but I imagine him as kind of fleshy? which Mettaton and Tenna really like because. you know. steel-cold robot body

I really don't know what else to say about Spamton's design he's just really fucked up looking

[rahiwatching]

Fan Theory: Like Ogres and Onions, the Matoran Universe has Layers

This theory has been rattling around in my head for some time, I might make a Knowledge Tower video about it someday, but I’m not certain if its a good fit, given its more of a theory than anything where I actually do some science in it. Maybe you all can let me know if this is a good video idea in the notes?

Anyway, the crux of this theory is something to try to explain how all of this:

Actually fits into the body of the GSR.

This is a long post, so I’ll put the rest under the cut.

We already know from Greg quotes that the MU map isn’t really to scale, its more to show the rough position of the islands rather than their actual relative size compared to one another, hence why Odina is so large, and why Voya Nui seems to take up most of the southern continent despite being described as being relatively small in story.

But even using this as a guide for placement only, it still doesn’t really gel with the actual layout of the Great Spirit Robot, with everything in the torso area having to be squished up into the upper torso given the empty space in the abdomen.

This is further compounded by this image, which places the giant vortex in the endless ocean that leads to the great waterfall in the middle of the chest of the GSR, once again placing both the southern continent and Karda Nui squarely in the upper torso:

I’ve seen more than a few fan maps of the MU that try to address this problem, but all the ones that I have seen have never quite been satisfying to me, they make the southern continent especially far too small than what the storyline suggests it should be in order to get everything to fit.

But my solution, which I don’t think I’ve seen elsewhere before, came to me when I remembered that Karda Nui was in a dome that was underneath the southern continent - it was on a separate layer. And, well, Karda Nui can be on a separate layer, why not other sections of the MU as well?

That thought let me to making these maps of how I think the MU could possibly be laid out:

As you can see, from this layered approach, not only can you fit everything in nicely, but you can also keep the continents large without having to compromise to make them fit in. It even allows for additional domes that could house some of the other locations / smaller islands that are mentioned in the story that are not included in the official map. I did also play around with the size of each island compared to the offical map, given Greg already confirmed that the sizes on it were not accurate and so I could maximise the liveable land area of the MU.

I also used the fact that Greg has confirmed that ways to get into Karda Nui are via portals (with the canon one known being near the southern continent and also being where Destral moved itself to during the Karda Nui arc) to get around the issues not only of travel between layers, but also of travel between the head, torso and limbs without having to mess around with relative positions of those places moving when the robot moves its joints. The way I figure it, if the portal took up the entire sea gate tunnel width, then it could be entirely possible that the inhabitants weren’t aware they were going through a portal at all, it could just look like a regular tunnel to them, leading to the MU map from the inhabitants perspective I included here too.

I’ve tried to include as many canon compliant details into these maps as I could (e.g. connections between the torso and arms at multiple points to explain the routes taken by the Federation of Fear, room in Artakha and Xia’s domes for the islands they used to share them with before they were destroyed, the position of the pit being based both on proximity to Daxia but also on the placement of Mahri Nui in the Faber concept art above etc.), but I may have missed some details, so do let me know if you spot any.

I could also potentially use these maps in the future to work out things like total land area of the MU for the Faber and Farshtey sizes given I can determine the area a pixel represents in each, so these could be quite useful to Knowledge Tower videos in the future, but first I’d like to get some peer review on the core ideas from the wider fandom here on Tumblr.

What do you think of the maps and the idea behind them?

[dreamofjoys]

Cyborg Boothill sex headcannons

CW: fem reader, possessive boothill(hinted to be), unprotected sex, rough fucking, manhandling

A/N: Typed all of these without my glasses and I’m already snuggling in my blankets lol pardon the typos!! I nearly wrote him off as a yandere psycho who is obsessed with reader’s body omg 😭

Cyborg!Boothill who just loves you, his pretty little human doll. Although it’s suppose to be an impossible feat for a robot like him to develop emotional attachments towards someone, he had somehow managed to “love” you. How does he come to know of this emotion called love? It’s easy! If you want something / someone only to yourself….. that’s definitely love, right?

Sex with him is so so good. Since he is a cyborg, you thought that his manhood would be made of metal. But nope, it’s fully made of a soft material that looks and feel just like the real one! Boothill is determined to make you get drunk on his dick only. As a cyborg, he has unlimited strength and stamina. He loves to fold you into half and watch your pretty pussy display itself infront of him. He fucks his 7 inch manhood into you relentlessly, wanting to see how deep he can exactly go. How does he know his dick is 7 inch? He’s a cyborg that needs to attend regular maintenance, Of course he knows the exact measurement of his own body.

And did you realise? Each time you guys have sex, he just seems to feel bigger and thicker than before. It’s almost as if he changed the size of his manhood whenever he goes for his scheduled maintenance…… His arms also seems more muscular than before, and the 6 pack of abs that is displaying before you makes you wanna volunteer lick him all up.

“Do ya feel good here?” Boothill thrust up his hips, his newly replaced dick hits your g-spot with dead accuracy, making you see white in an instant. “I guess that’s a yes,” the man smirks when he sees your fucked-out mind, too sluggish and incoherent to say anything proper. All you could do is moan like a slut and beg your lover for more as he abuses your insides to his liking.

“Hm…… you take me in so well……. You can definitely take in a bigger size…….” It’s too bad that you weren’t coherent enough to process what he was saying. Otherwise, you would have seen his devilish face coming up with all sorts of ideas to make you go crazy during sex again.

[zerorock41]

I swear to God, if Movie Amy ends up as just a tough, take-charge, boring"Girlboss", I'm gonna actually choke to death.

As someone who engages with girl-targeted media with regularity, I can say with certainty that people can write female leads as compelling and interesting while still allowing them to display and even indulge in traditionally feminine traits, and not just lean on "badass".

Let Amy get excited at a pretty dress, THEN she beats Knuckles in an arm wrestling match.

Let Amy see a flower field and want to frolic in it, THEN she can crush a robot 8 times her size.

Let Amy talk about her dreams of finding her one true love, THEN she can punt Metal Sonic into a mountain.

If they HAVE to have a generic badass girl character, use Rouge or Blaze. Not that I want them reduced to such, but that personality would suit them WAY better than it would Amy.

I feel the same way about the games and the rest of the franchise. Somebody on the Sonic writing team keeps trying to push "badass tough girl" Amy and I'm so tired of it.

Evan Stanley please write for Amy in the movie please. You actually do her right.

[neoyi]

I've been catching up Kidd Commander, a webcomic that I described as "dense and raw." (note: I mean this with great compliment, I can't even begin to describe the sheer envy on how the author writes the dialogue for the characters, it feels like water flowing gently off a bridge.)

I recently finished its second arc, "A Wretched Analog" and my GOD, it was an incredible, satisfying read. At about 200+ pages, it's a good, manga-sized volume story that appealed so directly to the shit I love.

And now I'm gonna talk about it and this shit is gonna be long, so I'll the rest under a "Read More" because I have a lot of thoughts about this particular arc.

So, I'm kind of a curmudgeon when it comes to "Robots Talk About What It Means To Be Human" stories because, I don't know, they often seem to come off as pedestrian and pretentious to me (sorry, I didn't like NiER: Automata). And I don't mean this isn't an excellent vehicle to talk about the nature of free will philosophically nor do I not enjoy plots like these, but I've find a lot of them appeal to me more when the robots in questions end up DOING more than just sitting in a chair talking.

Agatha Goddard does a hell of a lot of DOING.

I mean, they still talk, but I was immediately drawn to her not just from a design POV (I love the contrast of her striking blue hair with her metallic body), but the immediate fact that 1.) She's already self-aware and 2.) Everyone knows she's internally not happy with her situation as a robotic slave. After all, she has no "feelings", she's just a machine. Which is SO fascinating because the comic also states a lot of machinery like her has achieved sentience and basically live and are treated like regular folks. Which must piss off Agatha more.

God, even from the first page she's introduced (pic above), she looks like she has a massive chip on her shoulder (She has permanent resting bitch face and I'm all, "Girl, same.")

Like Agatha isn't just pretending she has to be the perfect robot servant, she's not speaking in a chipper tone to please her master and fake how she really feels. No, she's already pretty damn surly when you first meet her. She's already got a life and hobby; she rides motorcycles and raises pigeons. She has befriended an engineer kid genius who adores Agatha. She's already doing and feeling and thinking of her own accord. She has a life.

And Phineas notices. She notices the hell out of Agatha (omg, she crushed on that tall robot lady instantly and that's so valid) and as is wont of Phineas who sees any form of injustice, she's gonna fight hell and high water to free Agatha from her curse. And they do. But Kidd Commander is a comic that raises a lot of questions on the nature of the consequences of your actions based on your self-entitlement. A big, reoccurring thing is whether Phineas is any better than the Gods she wants to punch in their big, stupid eldritch faces because they deign to be uncaring and apathetic to the mortals they fuck over, and yet she herself is a powerhouse of raw emotion who will stop at nothing until she gets what she wants (a crew for her personal quest) whether they want it or not (and this arc in particular really questions it and I love it so damn much.)

God, I haven't even gotten to Ulrich pulling a Giles and killing Monterey because he'll do what Phineas won't and I'm on my knees going, "oh, this is good shit."

Any who, yeah, so Agatha also ties into the greater worldbuilding because she's a star spirit (more or less) encased into the body of an automaton, built by her late scientist mom because she desired a child. And then Monterey, the scientist mom's nephew, being so hideously jealous after his own tragic parental loss, kills her and then spends the next several decades torturing Agatha. And then proceeds to be mayor of the entire city. And then rules that with all the bread and circus it implied. And then proceeded to be killed by Ulrich... only to be revived in a new robotic body with no memories of his previous deeds and continues to be mayor because the city needs stability (especially after Phineas raised hell.)

He gets away with his crimes and Agatha is left to stew in anger over it.

And this goes into another kind of plot I love: the comic sympathizes with her anger.

Being angry has often been treated as a very negative emotion. There's been approx. forty million pieces of media where a character had to learn to be calm and collective; do not let wrath consume you. And like, contextually, depending on the story, that is very true and good advice.

This is not good advice for Agatha. Because why wouldn't she feel angry? Tormented all her life, stripped of autonomy, treated and infantilize. The last one is such a sticking point for me because GOD, I relate heavily to this because I spent most of my damn 20s being treated condescendingly; like some goddamn child because of how I behaved (read: being neurodivergent and nerdy.)

The thing about Agatha was that she was built to be a living person, to act and choose of her own accord. Monterey ended up erasing her data (read: memory) several times the moment she showed any sign of autonomy and rebellion. He expected compliance. What he got was a soda bottle ready to pop. Agatha was never designed to be a soulless bot and it's why she had her memories altered so many times. She would always rebel and remember because she is a person. And so, Agatha seethed, she raged, and there's a few points where she finally lets loose and it's so, so cathartic.

"A Wretched Analog" leaves with the crew banned from the city of Decodenn. There isn't any "we're going to fix this city's problem" like you'd imagine. I'm sure Phineas could do it if she felt the city needed to be saved (the last arc had her save an entire town, albeit a very small one, but no less meaningful to the people who live there): her goal was specifically to get Agatha out and only Agatha. There is something inherently selfish that Phineas is so one-track minded to do that just that. But it's still infinitely personal and feels grandiose and big because the comic so intensely focuses on how much of a disservice Agatha has been done.

Agatha decides if she can't strangle Monterey and toss him off the city (she, at least, got in a punch, but that feels so small to what he deserves), then she's going to take all the anger in her and put it to good use: help others who have been done dirty. She is justified and she is going to be a force of wrathful nature when prompt. And this is treated as a net positive. Anger need not be a negative emotion: it can be a fuel for determination and what you personally feel is retribution.

And I like that, it's a different kind of raw anger than what Phineas often demonstrates. Phineas has Luffy energy and quite often screams and kicks her legs in defiance if she so much as sees someone having a bad day. She's an unstoppable force who needs Ulrich to exercise some bit of restraint lest she burn cities for her cause. Agatha seethes on the inside and lets it fester and grow before she unleashes it all out. Each of them are very good and justified in their own ways, and has helped them in their personal dilemma and further achieve their goals.

"A Wretched Analog" is currently in the running for favorite arc. I've just started "Green Thousand Sing", so we'll see if that can top it. ;D What I'm saying is, AWA is just s rock solid 200+ pages of storytelling that I am imploring and shaking you to please consider and read.

Kidd Commander as a whole is often asking us to question the actions behind the protagonists' motivations as much as we want to root for them. It's the best kind of "Please understand" the further you read. It rewards patience (I'm not even joking when I say I've read each of the dialogue as carefully as I could because every word bubble feels meaningful and relevant) and leaves so much behind for you to consider how each of the characters think and behave, and yes, some of them are going to be ugly, but there's always a method to their madness, whether you agree or not. That shit is SO good. That's another thing I love when stories do. No clear cut "oh this character has to be Pure and Good because it's the only way to root for the protagonists." Naw, brah, they behave in ugly, ugly ways and that's the goddamn point.

[transformers-spike]

I know the idea of custom human-sized spikes has been brought up before, but I can't stop thinking about a bot getting a custom node so they can fuck their human with it. It wouldn't have to be that much bigger than a regular node since theyre already so big, mainly you'd want more length. I'm giving the giant robots tdicks basically

BRO - the TFA world of interface modding is fucking wild - you can buy almost anything with the right amount of shanix

You can have 2 nodes, 3 nodes, fuck it - whole valve is just nodes

So you can DEFINITELY get a robot tdick and fuck your human with it

Don't even get me started on what LOCKDOWN has going on

[brayneworms]

and teary faces know the craft | lyney

kinktober day one: lingerie

word count. 1.8k

content. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, lingerie, making out, both lyney + reader getting blueballed, allusions to jealousy + insecurity, somewhat established relationship, lyney is a bratttt, gender neutral reader

♪ death kink - fontaines d.c.

notes. call that lyngerie

kinktober 2024 m.list | regular m.list

He's a tease. 

You should more than likely stop being surprised by it; like the owl is wise and the bake-danuki is curious, it's simply in his nature. The coy flutter of a lash, the point of a toned leg, the briefest catching of his amethyst eyes on yours at something that could be construed as innuendo. A flash like the white spark of a kamera bulb, and then gone again, retreating into shadow like it was never there in the first place. 

Backstage smells like pine wood and wax. The stage squeaks with each turn of Lyney's boot upon the shining floor. In around an hour, the Opera Epiclese will be seething with audience members, packed in and huddled tight for the show. For now, it is only a palimpsest; the only people in the seats for now are you and Freminet, who maintains a shy distance a couple rows in front of you, fiddling with his little robotic penguin. You think he's started to grow used to your presence—and he's pretty sharp beneath the sandy bangs, his eyes snagging on little things others might gloss right over.

You suppose Lyney and Lynette are similar, though; beneath different veneers, all of Arlecchino's children are remiss to let any small detail slip by them. 

You suppose it's a mark of the Hearth, that inclination towards neuroticism. 

"And voila!" The twins' routine finishes with a swish of Lynette's skirt and Lyney's arms raised towards the domed ceiling. "What did you think?"

Freminet raises his head. "It was great," he mutters. "As always. The bit with the water tank is new, right?"

"It's merely a spruce-up of our old bit with the box," Lyney smiles. "But yes, essentially, it's new."

Freminet hums. "Well... be careful, is all. I liked it though."

Lyney beams. It's an inevitability that his gaze turns to you then, hunched a little further back. "And you, our dear guest? Do you concur?"

You raise your chin. "I think... it's your best work yet." 

The smile Lyney offers is beatific—and genuine, you know, only because your own praise is such. As someone who lives a life half behind a mask, Lyney has become well-tuned to the frequency of other people's lies; it's why, you often think, he's so enamoured with you. Because you don't lie to him. 

"Does that mean we can take a small break?" Lynette asks, fiddling with a glove. "I'd like a chance to refresh before the real show."

"Of course, of course. I would say we've more than earned it." As Lynette makes her way offstage, probably on the hunt for a teahouse, Freminet trails after her and Lyney catches your eye. You approach up the centre aisle that runs through the middle like a parting through a scalp, up to the edge of the stage. It’s so tall that it comes up to your chin, and Lyney extends a hand down to help you haul yourself up. It smells like rosewood and wax up here, settling pleasantly in your nose. Lyney watches you, eyes wide, earnest. He has such a sweet face, if you can learn to ignore the gleam in his eye. 

“Want to help me get ready?” he asks casually. You bite back the urge to raise a brow; he looks stage-perfect already, down to the outfit. He doesn’t need help with a damn thing.

All you say is, “Sure,” and he leads you happily through the maze of corridors backstage to his dressing room. He and Lynette have separate ones here, which is nice; neither of them particularly like sharing space. Lynette keeps her things organised, and Lyney… decidedly doesn’t. He’s not a messy person by metric, but he does tend to charge forward toward the goal without realising the trail he was leaving in his wake. 

The dressing room is modestly sized, draped in swaths of red and gold cloth that make it feel heady and hot and close. A sparkling mirror edged in something that glows lurid and blue-white, throwing your features into sharp relief; and a complimentary basket of local Fontainian specialities which you pick through with interest, coming up with foreign titian fruits and crystal bottles of fizzy alcohol.

“So…” Lyney hovers at your shoulder, watching you pick through the cellophane-wrapped morsels. “You really liked the show?”

“I did.” You put back some fancy chocolate thing and turn to face him; he doesn’t back off, watching with his hands twisting like snakes before him. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was nervous. “You’re really getting into it. Lynette’s working very hard.”

It’s a prod, a careful poke—and as you guessed, Lyney pouts. If he had ears like his sister, they’d probably be pinned back against his head right now. “Only Lynette?” 

 A slow grin spreads over your face like molasses. “Oh, I see. You’re fishing for something.”

“Ahaha… I don’t fish.” He crosses his arms over his chest, chin jutting petulantly. “But when you go out of your way not to compliment me, you can’t blame me for thinking the worst. Perhaps my loveliest guest of all is losing interest?”

“Perhaps,” you say mildly, then backtrack as soon as his expression falters. “Oh, come on. You know what I think of you. Must I say it every time.”

“You could stand to say it more.”

“I bought you that lovely gift only a few days ago.”

Lyney’s eyes flash; that gleam, like the side of a cut amethyst. “Oh, I remember,” he says coyly. “I’ve grown quite familiar with it, in fact.”

The notion makes heat flare in your gut. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm.” He pauses, smiles—catlike, just a hint of sharp teeth between the plush peach of his lip. “You might say I’m familiar with it right this second, actually.”

You blink. Your mouth is as dry as the Great Red Sand. “Are you trying to tell me—”

Tease. It’s in the way Lyney’s face slips into an innocent little smile as he hooks a finger over the cuffed edge of his shorts and yanks it up enough to expose a glimpse of rouge lace. Unable to stop yourself, your hand flies out, keeping it there. You stare from it to him. 

“Are you serious?” you whisper. 

Lyney giggles. “I take this to mean you’re not losing interest, then?”

“I’ll kill you.” You sound too hoarse. “Show me.”

Lyney casts a slow, obvious look at the ornate clock hung open the wall. “Y’know, I’m just not entirely sure we have time right now, dearest.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” you mutter, fingers hooking onto his stupid bodysuit and fumbling at the buttons. You can feel his stomach flex with silent laughter at your obvious eagerness; usually you’d be trying to reign it in—the last thing a tease like him needs is more fire to stoke the fuel of his ego—but sue you. He knows what buttons to press. He has way too much power in his sleek gloved hand. 

You get a handle on the suit and yank it down with difficulty to his knees. What you’d seen a glimpse of were two thin silky garters, encircling the plush of his pale thighs, just about hidden by the hem of his shorts. One wrong move and they’d slip out from under the black leather, glaringly visible to everyone. The idea makes you feverish with anger and also so turned on you can barely see straight. 

The garters clip onto dusky pink underwear, arching gracefully over his pubic bone to encircle the triangle of his waist. When you lift a trembling hand to lift his shirt, you see a matching bralette, satiny cups tight against the soft swells of his pectorals. You can see straight through the gauzy fabric, coffee-coloured nipples pebbled under your attention. 

“I hate you,” is the first thing that come out of your mouth. The sight of him in this sparkling pink-red set makes you want to do unspeakable things. You want to ruin that fabric forever and buy him a new one. A dozen new ones in hundreds of different shades, ruin them systematically, rinse, repeat. 

He laughs again, but even his facade has its limits; he sounds slightly breathless, and you can see the faint pink blush on his cheeks starting to crawl down his chest. His collarbones gleam like cut diamonds, archons you wish you could bite them. “I take it you approve?”

Your answer is as animalistic as you feel, the rough crush of your lips over his. You’re rewarded with a muffled mmphf?! as your weight pushes the both of you back against the table, sending the cute basket of edible arrangements sprawling in a mosaic upon the floor. You muscle your way between Lyney’s legs, the press of his stiffening cock so close through only the wisp of organza, hot and insistent as a brand mark. Your hand tangles in his hair, dragging him impossibly closer as your lips duck to press against his butter-soft skin, his jaw, his neck—

“N-no marks!” he gasps, even as he presses his hips against yours with a moan. “Dearest, lovely, mon chérie, please—”

“You’re so pathetic,” you whisper into his neck, feel the buzz of your words sink into the soft skin of his throat. Lyney shudders and whines his protest. “No time, remember? Whose fault is that?”

“I just wanted—you to look at me,” he grits out, legs locked around your waist. It occurs to you that his fears of you losing interest are likely to be grounded in reality, dressed up with a lilting voice and wave of a hand. Your heart twitches. 

“I’m always looking at you, stupid.” 

Lyney’s cheeks darken, brows coming together as a sort of glaze slides over his eyes. This look you’re familiar with; it makes your breath hitch. He leans forwards, lips parted—

Three sharp knocks at the door. “We’re on in fifteen minutes, brother.”

Lyney’s whole body scrunches up, a cold disappointment stealing over his face. He looks to you desperately, but you can only shrug. “Answer your sister.”

He droops like a wilting flower. “I… I’ll be right out, Lynette.”

There’s a pause, a deeply disappointed sigh, and you hear her heels clicking neatly back down the corridor. Lyney scrubs a hand down his face and awkwardly gets down from the desk, fumbling to right his clothes. His whole body shivers as he does his bodysuit back up, having to readjust it several times in wake of his hardness. He looks down unhappily at the result.

As he goes to leave, he pauses, hand on the doorknob. “You’ll stay for the show?”

You see the question for what it is, and smile. “Wouldn’t miss it. I’ll wait for you after, too.”

Lyney tucks his head away, but you fancy you can see his giddy smile anyways. “I’ll try not to make you wait too long,” he murmurs; one hand reaches down, adjusts the cuff of his shorts just so you get the briefest flash of red-pink. And then he’s gone, out the door and down the corridor to the stage.

You lean against the table, heave a sigh. Start picking up the spilled complimentaries from the basket. You have a feeling, later tonight, that you’re both going to need the sustenance. 

[things-for-your-little-mindset]

things for a robot regressor? :3

Things for your robot regressor ( !💿💾! )

Foods & drinks …

Byte-Sized Sandwiches – Tiny sandwiches made with mini bread slices or crackers

Gear Gummies – Fruit gummies shaped like gears or rings (Lifesavers work well too!).

Robot Wires – Pull-apart licorice (like Twizzlers) to look like colorful robot wires

Metallic Popcorn – Popcorn with a little edible silver or gold glitter powder to look metallic!

Glowing Gelatin – Blue or green Jello cut into squares for a "glowing energy" effect.

Bright ramune sodas – flavors like melon, classic, and peach make for great days!

Blue raspberry lemonade – store bought or homemade, either works!

Neon Milk – Regular milk with a tiny drop of food coloring to make it look "charged up."

outfit ideas !

Gray or futuristic pajamas

soft, comfy robot pjs.

slippers made to look like robot feet! Or in a bright color.

soft, comfortable silver dresses.

oversized gray sweaters with colorful buttons (drawn on, or sewn on!)

dress shirts with colorful buttons

Tie-dye shirts in comfortable, bright colors.

metal-colored shoes with circuit patterns

ACTIVITIES

= Build-A-Bot – Use LEGO, magnetic tiles, or recycled materials (cardboard, foil, bottle caps) to create your own robot!

= Design a Control Panel – Draw buttons, screens, and switches on paper or use stickers to make your own robot dashboard.

= DIY Circuit Board Art – Draw pretend circuit boards with markers or use metallic stickers for a cool, futuristic look.

= Robot Costume Making – Use boxes, foil, and tape to create your own wearable robot armor.

= Code Your Own Dance Moves – Make a "robot dance routine" by writing simple step-by-step commands for yourself to follow!

= Invent a Robot Language – Create fun robotic sounds or a simple "beep-boop" code to talk in!

= Decorate Your Charging Station – Make a cozy "charging pod" with blankets and pillows where you can rest and "recharge."

Games (new addition!)

Roblox games such as cozmo and friends: team battle, robot simulator 2, Natural disaster survival games, or even just roleplay games where you can dress up as a robot or robotic character!

Minecraft with robotic addons or with friends to do robotic roleplays with!

Geometry dash

mimo: learn coding

any coding website

Beat maker pro

Block Blast

Screw it out

songs and playlists

I want to be a machine - the living tombstone

eeeaaaooo - shadowstep

Playlist by me

Playlist by 5-tar

Superstar - toy box

Harder, better, faster, stronger - Daft Punk

Dr. Gaster - shadrow

Playlist by The Hank Tapedeck

[mawofthemagnetar]

Father's Day

“So, hold on a minute,” Iskall held his hands up, “back up, because I must have missed that. You’re a FATHER?”

“Well, yeah?” Jevin shrugged, scrolling through his comm, “What’s so hard about that to believe?”

Iskall, by way of a reply, simply gestured at Jevin’s person from his head to his slimy feet.

“So? Okay, yeah, I guess it- is a little hard to fathom. I do, uh, have a certain- aura of coolness around me. But yeah, no, I’m a dad. And a damn good one, too. I mean, a slime-dad, which is a little different than a regular dad. But for a slime-dad, I’m top-shelf. Of course.”

“Uh-huh. And how does a slime-dad differ from a regular dad?” Iskall folded his arms.

“I don’t gotta, uh, chase after my kids as much as you guys do. They’re pretty much ready to go once they hit full-size. I do my bit by checking up on them periodically. Anyway, point is, I gotta go. My kids are throwing a father’s day bash, and I can’t be late.”

Iskall rubbed his temples.

“Okay, couple questions. One, father’s day was three months ago. Two, is there a Missus Jevin you’ve got stashed away somewhere? Or a Mister Jevin? Or-“

“…Why would another person be involved?” Jevin asked, tilting his head with a squish of slime, “Like, literally, why? Who needs help to become a parent?”

“…Uh…you know what? No. You want to learn about the parrots and the bats, go talk to Keralis.”

“Sure, whatever. Anyway, to answer your second question, it’s ‘cause if you try to do father’s day on the actual, like, day, renting a big enough hall is stupid expensive and it’s all just kind of dumb. And a hassle. So we host it whenever.”

Jevin glanced up from his comm.

“Wanna come? Meet my kids, I mean.”

Iskall rubbed his forehead.

“Sure, why not. Hit me with it.”

They tapped their comms together, and Jevin clacked his jaw together- the slime equivalent of a smile.

“Okay, so uh…All my kids know you guys as their aunts and uncles. So if they start calling you “auntie Iskall-“

“-Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m used to it.” Iskall nodded, “Should I wear something special?” 

Jevin waved a hand. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. You’re fine as you are. Anyway, let’s go. Not good to keep my kids waiting!” 

And Jevin tapped a few options on his comm and vanished. 

<iJevin has left the game.> 

Iskall shrugged, tapped over to his server list, and selected the option for the Hub, with the teleport coordinates visible in the centre. 

He tapped it, and vanished. 

<Iskall85 has left the game.>

When Iskall opened his eyes again, he was standing outside a colossal building, looking like some kind of conference centre. It was made of smooth quartz, with a fake parking lot full of fake vehicles that had clearly taken some builder a long time to put together. 

Jevin was standing there, tapping his sneaker impatiently, the blue slime slosh-slosh-sloshing against the ground. 

“Alright, c’mon, let’s get moving.” Jevin huffed, “We’re already a couple minutes late, and my kids worked really hard to put this on.” 

“I’m coming, I’m coming…” Iskall muttered, brushing off his pants and following Jevin towards the doors.

Iskall was assuming that Jevin’s family would have set up a few tables in a corner. He was a slime; and the way Jevin was talking, Iskall had assumed a big family. Maybe ten kids? That would be a pretty big family. 

Then Jevin and Iskall stepped into the conference hall. 

“HAPPY FATHER’S DAY, DAD!” 

Several thousand slimes bellowed all at once, a wall of sound so deafening that Iskall could feel his bionic eye nearly shake out of its housing. 

He blinked his one eye, darting it around the room in shock. There were hundreds of small tables around which sat an unfathomable number of slimes in all colours of the rainbow. The room was a riot of wild fashion choices, and a deafening rumble of clattering bones and squelching bodies.

“I- I-” Iskall stammered, as he reached up and tightened the nut holding his robotic eye onto his skull’s mounting post.  

“HEY EVERYONE!” Jevin shouted back, “THANK YOU!” 

“Is that Uncle Iskall?” a deep voice said eagerly, “It’s so nice to meet you!” 

“You have…THOUSANDS…of children. Not ten. Not twenty. Not even a hundred. THOUSANDS.” Iskall stammered. 

“Yeah. I’m, uh, the father of all slime hybrids. It’s not a big deal, to be honest. Some other slime would’ve absorbed a skeleton and decided to think about itself if I hadn’t.” Jevin shrugged. 

“All. Of them. ALL OF THEM.” Iskall clutched his head in his hands.

“Yeah? It’s not that difficult. You just, like, shed some slime on a large enough pile of biomass, it’ll grow into a kid. How is this so confusing for you? That’s probably where humans come from.” Jevin shrugged. 

He rubbed his slimy hands together with a hideous squelch, and started traveling through the room, eagerly greeting each and every one of his kids. 

Iskall staggered over to the snack table, piled high with compost, cinderblocks, and beer. He popped a bottle, and started chugging it.

[spiciestmango]

Even More Obscure Kinks Ask Game :3 🔎

Feel free to add on to this- pls do actually im having a hard time finding more and more kinks and my pupbrain doesnt hold onto info very well!! (also please be mindful of people's limits!)

Everything assumes adults having either fantasy, roleplay or full consent of all parties even when stated otherwise yadda yadda yadda yall know how to be safe in kink im not your sex ed teacher

Milder Section (For stuff that is still fun to ask abt but isnt that obscure in the grand scheme of things!)

Facefucking or Facesitting

Breathplay or Sensory depravation

Biting or Scratching

Somnophillia or Intox sex

Kigurumi/Onesie or Job Uniform (Nurse, Mailperson, etc)

Latex or Leather

Intercrural sex or Dry humping

Felching or Snowballing

Authority Figure or Monster/Alien

Robots or Undead

Age play or Pet play

Fauxest or Fauxbeast

Dacryphillia or Sexual obsession

Crotch Spanking or Crotch Worship

Pool/Hot tub sex or Sex in the wilderness

Edging or Overstim

Stuckage or Leash pulling

Sex While Pregnant or Guaranteed Impregnation

On display for an audience or All hands on you

Omorashi or Piss Drinking

Cum Marking or Piss marking

Pissing inside orifice or Public Pissing

Knotted or Equine cocks

Barbed or Tapered cocks

Tentacles or Alien genitals

Queefing or Farting

Hands or Feet

Squirting or Lactation

Thighs or Tummy

Underwear gag or O-Ring gag

Pain/Blood/Fear section (Some gore-y themes warning)

31. Period Sex or Drawing Blood Elsewhere 32. Cupping or Waxplay 33. Electrostimulation or Temperature Play 34. Cattle Branding or Name Carving 35. Gunplay or Knifeplay 36. Figging or Flogging 37. Medplay or Kidnapping 38. Blackmail or CBT 39. Tummy punches or Nipple clamps 40. Spanked until bruised or Hickeys everywhere 41. Quadruped Suit or Gimp 42. Pinwheel or Ice 43. Spiked paddle or Caning 44. Anal punishment or Kicking 45. Ball squeezing or Cock Pulling 46. New Piercing or Wound Stinging (With lemon, alcohol, etc) 47. Orgasm from spanking or Orgasm from Biting 48. Vivisection or Woundfucking 49. Waterboarding or Chained torture 50. Cigarette/Blunt/Joint burning or Predicament Bondage

Wilder Section (Stuff you might not see often!)

51. Vacbed or Claustrophilia 52. Forced Exposure or Unknowing Participant 53. Crush Fetish or Spinning Fetish 54. Pullups or Puppypads 55. Sneeze induced orgasm or Hypno trigger induced orgasm 56. Foodplay or Mysophilia 57. Lithophilia or Pygmalionism 58. Oviposition or Improvised Sex toy 59. Plant sex or Primal play 59. Locked in clothing or Locked out of bathroom 60. Sex with Planes or Sex with Trains 61. Bound together or Suspension play 62. IRL Hypnosis tracks or Clicker Training 63. Rapebaiting or Public Stealth Toy 64. 24 hour insertion or 24/7 servitude 65. Ponyplay or Cattleplay 66. Sybian or Through wall 67. Boofing or Forcefeed 68. Stock/Pillory or Hogtied 69. Navel sex or Armpit sex 70. Emetophilia or Nasophilia

Fantasy Section (Stuff that you probably cant even come close to replicating or cosplaying IRL)

71. Macro or Micro 72. Pooltoy Transformation or Plushie Transformation 73. Mummification or Cobweb bondage 74. Parasitic Pregnancy or Alternate Pregnancy 75. Living Toy or Oral Vore (this is just regular vore) 76. Unbirth or Anal vore 77. Earfucking or all the way through (ass through mouth) 78. Portalpanties or Voodoo doll 79. TGTF (Not detrans) or Huge size difference (5 ft or more) 80. Knotted and hanging between or Instant egg laying 81. Nullification/Nullcrotch or Amputation Bondage 82. Petrification or Slime absorption 83. Clone gangbang or Selfcest 84. Magic during sex or Being put on the experiment table 85. Instant aphrodisiac or Body swap 86. Crowded public use (Train, Bus, etc) or Cursed Womb Tattoo 87. Feral x Feral or Monster x Monster 88. Cumflation or Other fluid inflation 89. Hypergenitals or Bodily fluid bath 90. Ghost hands or Magical/Alternate cum

Bad ends (Kind of an extension of the fantasy section)

91. Mind Break or Perma Vored (Digested) 92. Permanent Ownership or Perma TF 93. Loss of sentience or Loss of body control 94. Drowned or Bled out 95. No escape from corrupted reality or No escape from compromised mind 96. Torn apart by monster or Experimental mishap 97. Coerced and forced betrayal of a loved one (rape, harm, etc) or That betrayal being done to you without you ever finding out. 98. Slow painful mutation or merging with another being 99. Never finding a way home or Home never being the same 100. Blackmail released to the public or Falsely accused but never believed

BONUS: Pokemon themed section (Because its MY blog and I have the right to invoke the author's poorly disguised fetish in my fetish post 😡)

101. Trainer x Pokemon or Pokemon x Pokemon 102. Type advantage or Level drain 103. Stage 3 evo x Stage 1 evo or Evolution denial (Everstone) 104. Quadruped, Biped or Other 105. Breed till a shiny egg or Status effects during sex 106. Mid-sex evolution or Forced, unwanted evolution 107. Getting Mystery Dungeon'd or TF into pokemon but in the mainline world (You can no longer speak to humans) 108. Raped/passed around by your pokemon team or Team of pokemon specifically for sex 109. Bondage themed moves (Vine whip, Freeze shock, etc) or Coercion themed moves (Hypnosis, attract, etc) 110. Caught in a pokeball or Unremovable pokemon costume

[dragqueenstarscream]

drag queen's monsterformers au masterpost

this post is gonna be a comprehensive list of all of the characters, settings, and ideas i have for my monsterformers au because it's been on my mind for about a month now. if i come up with any more major ideas, i'll rb this post and tack it on, but for now, this is the general gist of things.

something to note is that while this is primarily inspired by tfp, it's not a perfect one to one retelling. there will be major changes such as different backstories, my own personal ships, the ending, and characters from other continuities. just something to keep in mind.

setting

since this is a fantasy au, this will be set in a sort of faerûn/dnd style world, with any major locations (ie washington dc, russia, greece, or anywhere else that pops up in the show) to be rewritten to reflect the setting. as such, jasper, nevada is now a village on the edge of a broad kingdom, hidden within an arid mountain range. it's still called jasper, though, because come on. that already sounds like a fantasy name.

the characters

obviously, since this is a monster au, all of the robots are now mythical creatures. despite how wildly different they are from each other, they all share the same level of sapience, so characters like phoenix!ratchet and firbolg!bulkhead, despite one looking more animal and one looking more human, are mentally at the same level of sapience. the other major difference is that, rather than disguise themselves as vehicles, they hide as regular humans. where the voices of primus autobots) and the talons of unicron (decepticons) differ is that the voices typically disguise themselves as working class people to blend in better and learn more about how their new home works, while talons typically take on more upper class appearances (royalty, military authority, businessmen, aristocrats) in order to effectively infiltrate and influence this new world.

the voices of primus

optimus prime - a gargantuan firedrake (a dragon without the wings) and the last of the primes, ones who have spoken with primus himself. despite his massive size and strength, he's one of the most gentle of all monsters. like all dragons and their relatives, he has a tendency to hoard; his den is full of magical artifacts and ancient books he's unearthed or bartered for over centuries. as a human, he takes the form of an old librarian, both because he was an archivist back home, and because he enjoys the unrestricted access to as much information about humans as he can get his hands on.

ratchet - a cranky old phoenix whose feathers have gone mostly white with age and stress from war. he's the oldest of the voices by far, and is a couple hundred years away from his next rebirth. he may not be the largest monster, but those wings pack a punch, and he's not afraid to use his talons and beak on the battlefield. despite all of this, deep down, he has a gentleness to him, especially with the children and optimus. as a human, he's a doctor, because with how often the children get in trouble, he needs that extra knowledge on human anatomy.

bumblebee - a strong willed pegasus who enjoys spending time with humans the most out of all the voices. incredibly fast on land and on the wing, he loves to push himself to constantly get stronger for his team. he's also the monster most humans gravitate towards because winged horses are more approachable and familiar than, say, manticores or gryphons. he can't speak due to a nasty curse placed on him by megatron, so he whinnies and nickers like a regular horse. thankfully, the other voices understand him after knowing him for this long. as a human, he's a hired farmhand who puts his strength and speed to good use. he often helps out on raf's family farm and is able to keep a close eye on him this way. he communicates via sign language or writing in this form.

bulkhead - a massive firbolg with a heart of gold. giantfolk have an undeserved reputation for being stupid, but bulkhead is wise beyond his years; he just prefers to use his size and strength when fighting. talk to him long enough, though, and you'll see centuries of wisdom and experience shining in those big blue eyes. one of his favorite things is to use his might to protect and impress miko, whom he sees almost like a daughter. as a human, he's a construction worker, which allows him to do what he does best; build things and break things.

arcee - a sharpshooting manticore who takes no nonsense from anyone. manticores can fire venomous barbs from their tails, and arcee is especially gifted in this department, hitting her targets with alarming accuracy. that, combined with her wings, makes her a nightmare in battle. she may seem as prickly as a thornbush, but in reality, she cares deeply for everyone around her; she just has a hard time showing it without applying a liberal dose of snark. as a human, she works as a bartender at a pub, which is how she met jack. she initially viewed him as a troublemaker, but now is more of a mentor and has taken him under her wing. literally.

smokescreen - a proud and noble gryphon who's determined to prove himself. gryphons often come off as haughty, and smokescreen may appear to fit that bill, but in reality, he's just eager to make his idol proud. he... doesn't quite get that humans are, for the most part, afraid of monsters. why should they be afraid of him? he doesn't wanna hurt them! but he's getting the hang of it. as a human, he's an adventurer who longs to see more of the world he's found himself in.

wheeljack - a wisecracking wyvern and a menace to anyone who crosses his path. he may be smaller than other dragons, but he more than makes up for it with his speed, agility, toxic gas breath, and his ingenuity with crafting weapons. his hoard mainly comprises of weapons and supplies to make them. his favorite thing in the world (besides bulkhead) is anything that goes boom. as a human, he's a bit of a mad scientist, living on his own so he can perform his experiments in relative peace.

cliffjumper - a goofy minotaur who's able to bullshit his way out of any situation. unusually chatty for a minotaur, he loves to crack jokes and tease his fellow teammates. some find it annoying, but others, like arcee, find it endearing. behind the goofiness, cliffjumper is a calculating warrior able to make quick decisions on the fly - though that boldness often gets him into trouble. as a human, he's a farmhand like bumblebee and often works alongside him with more labor intensive jobs.

the talons of unicron

megatron - a dracolich whose lust for power has driven him down a terrible path. once a proud gladiator, centuries of practicing dark magic have corrupted his body past the point of no return, and his mind is following suit. he was mated to optimus back home, but that was a lifetime ago, and all megatron feels towards him now is loathing mixed with twisted desire, a sick mockery of love. as a human, he poses as lord of fortress nemesis whenever interacting with other human nobles. oddly, though, no one can ever find this mysterious fortress, as if its location is always changing...

starscream - a cunning harpy who's always trying to stay one step ahead of megatron. haughty and full of himself, starscream loves to flaunt his accomplishments and terrorize the sky in the heat of battle. deep down, though, he's trying to relive his glory days as lord of the skies from back home. he joined the talons to try and regain some of his old power, but after being megatron's whipping boy for so long, he's grown jaded and is now searching for a way out - even if it involves defecting to the voices. as a human, he's a commander, though he won't disclose his military achievements to other humans...

soundwave - a masked naga with a frighteningly accurate memory and a will to use it. silent as snow and with scales as dark as the night sky, soundwave has eyes all over fortress nemesis; nothing escapes his surveillance. strangely, whenever he talks, he parrots what others say in a perfect mimicry of their voice. he's also never taken his mask off; it's believed that only megatron has ever seen his true face and heard his real voice. even as a human, people don't really know what he is. most assume he's an assassin of some sort. he also keeps his falcon laserbeak as his familiar, making sure his control extends as far as she can fly.

shockwave - the battle damaged tiefling with a mile long sadism streak. calculating and cold, despite his infernal abilities, shockwave is a true terror strong enough to send shivers down the spines of even the strongest warriors. he may be blind in one eye, but the glare in his remaining eye can send even other talons running. not only is he physically imposing, he's also highly intelligent, using a combination of magic and science to create new warriors to fight for the talons. as a human, he's a businessman, using his know how to gather the supplies he needs for his experiments.

breakdown - the vampire bruiser who leaves no mercy. contrary to the usual slender, aristocratic vampires, breakdown is nothing short of a brute, using his raw strength and terrifying visage to strike fear into the hearts of his opponents. he drains the blood of those he kills in battle, which is how he got so strong to begin with. the only one who's truly well and safe from his wrath is a certain werewolf. as a human, he serves as a bodyguard for said certain someone.

knock out - the self obsessed werewolf who's unafraid to play dirty. despite being a fierce, savage predator, knock out prefers to spend his time at fortress nemesis, dissecting anyone megatron puts on his table. he also tends to be quite the hypocrite; he'll gladly tear someone apart in battle or on the operating table, but will then whine and complain that his fur is filthy. he'll snap his teeth at anyone who touches him, but then turn around and beg breakdown to rub his belly. as a human, he's a wealthy aristocrat who proudly indulges in human luxuries and flaunts his image; he's very "look, don't touch."

skyquake and dreadwing - twin gargoyles whose only loyalty is to each other. they joined the talons to ensure each other's safety, and with their combined physical strength, they quickly rose through the ranks and became formidable warriors. skyquake isn't able to use magic like most monsters, and thus, doesn't have a human form. as such, dreadwing uses his magic to protect his twin in battle, though it wears him down significantly. as a human, he's a mighty warrior with the battle scars to prove his worth.

this is about as far as i've come with character designs, though there's definitely gonna be more to come, as i have ideas for characters from other continuities, like tfa and g1. i'm pretty excited to start writing fics for this au and just play around and have fun!