Stick n Poke
May. 17th, 2024 03:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
robotdick[Nick was the one who went out and acquired everything for this little art project. A trip to diamond city got him the needles, ground down by the machinist there. After a chat with a few friends in the railroad, he managed to drum up some information on various inks. Thankfully, seeing how he did't have actual skin, he didn't have to account much for whether any given pigment was toxic. Hard to leech poison into his blood without having blood. Overall, he gathers up a few sets of needles and combs, and about ten color choices. He has no idea what Hancock will want to do with his name, but Nick's giving him choices.
Is he nervous about getting it done, yeah, is it because he doesn't want a tattoo or because he doesn't want Hancock's name? No, not at all. It's just very...rebellious, conceptually, and Nick the former had Opinions about the type of people who sported tattoos. Most of those opinions are irrelevant in The Wasteland, but they're still there every time he thinks about it.
When Hancock shows up, Nick's got all the gathered items spread out on that interrogation table. It's the only piece of furniture that wouldn't get stained, ergo it's ideal. One of the two chairs has a makeshift cushion on it, clearly for Hancock since Nick didn't exactly suffer when stuck in one position for a long time. There's even a towel draped over the back of the chair for wiping away extra ink. Nick feels extremely prepared and fairly nervous when he welcomes the ghoul in.]
I wasn't sure what you'd feel like doing. [Nick admits when they're by the table.] So I just snatched up whatever I could get my hands on.
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my sleepy is showing I think
Date: 2024-05-21 03:43 am (UTC)Bein a detective's got better hours. [It absolutely does not. Nick just can't come up with a clever deflection for that compliment--complaint? Compli-ain't?]
Also I get a hat and a gun.
[Nick tries to be firm while Hancock's still melting into a relaxed puddle. He doesn't want his touch too featherlight, not considering how rarely the ghoul has his back exposed. Nick's own skin beneath the clothes is far too sensitive, just by disuse. Hancock's balancing that out a bit, but it's still a transition and, as he said, this is something they share.
After a few minutes knocking the big swaths of tightness down, Nick moves on to the little knots. Hard to tell what's stress and what's just on account of being a ghoul, but Nick goes systematically from his neck toward his sacrum. It doesn't hurt that the synth enjoys just...having the freedom to touch, or just mapping Hancock's skin.]
looks lovely from this angle but if your bed is callin ya... (mine is lol)
Date: 2024-05-21 05:14 am (UTC)[ Somehow Hancock still has the presence of mind for some ribbing, via poking holes in Nick's imaginary job complaints. Seems like the proper amount of pain in the ass to be, considering the guy got a whole damn tattoo without breaking a sweat. Not that it's an option. Still! ]
Also ya got a hat and a gun now, doncha? I'm not seein' a whole lotta solid evidence here... think we could'a found your new calling, if I wasn't so damn happy to have you all to myself
[ Accidentally a bit of a loaded statement; he doesn't mean anything substantial by it. Not beyond this moment in time... he likes the idea of staking a claim (obviously, Mr. Tattoo Artist over here) but also, he believes too much in personal freedom to mean anything restrictive by his jesting claim (or even, his more serious affections).
The skin of his back doesn't get much sun but it's not the most explosive expanse of nerves mapped across his body. All in all it seems as though his neck carries the most tension from where he had bunched his shoulders, as well as his lower-back, from the way he'd pretzeled his legs beneath him for the duration of that tattoo. ]
Better cut this shit out Nick [ The Exact Opposite, he means, all drawling affection. ] gunna get me so strung up I'm not gunna know what to do without ya... [ The words roll out on a contented sigh as the ghoul's eyes lightly settle shut. He's not sleeping-- not even sleepy, thank you! He's just terribly relaxed at the center of Nick's attention. ]
Swapping from Kellogg to this surprisingly tricky.
Date: 2024-05-22 01:33 am (UTC)[It's an equally loaded response, but true, and said with besotted, put upon affectation. Hancock's neck is the worst--well, no, his lower back and ass are the worst but Nick's not sure he can get the ghoul to allow that without this turning into sex. He's not opposed, but Nick's mother henning hasn't been satisfied just yet.
So, Nick leans over and works on his shoulders and neck, fingers digging into the tender spots where the scapulas slide and in the parts where the trapezius cards into the back muscles. He's not the most skilled massues but what Nick lacks in finesse he compensates for by not tiring out. His hands can't get fatigued and they don't vary in pressure or speed unless he's doing it, so like everything else, he can just keep going as long as it takes.
Doesn't take much brainpower, though, so it's real easy to fall into a daydream laden daze. Hancock's a contented puddle under his fingers and Nick's doing his damndest to keep him that way. He's tempted to rib Hancock back, keep that little exchange going, but the quiet is nice.]
the way I inwardly cackled writing this
Date: 2024-05-22 01:52 am (UTC)No Hancock don't do itbut having a synth boyfriend is the absolute best; really, he's just not seeing a downside here. ]I don't think I know a cuss sacred enough for this feeling
[ His murmur is just a little pleasure-slurred. He doesn't mind the quiet, he's just inclined to chatter, especially when he's happy. And happy he most certainly is. It's not the type of pleasure Hancock usually chases... healthy pleasure, where's the fun in that? Well, the fun is here, apparently. ]
You... you are officially Too Good. For Me, For This, For the whole damn town. Imm'a make a damn civic holiday in honor'a this backrub
[ You've seen Burrito Ghoul, now you have Puddle Ghoul. ]
LMAO The healthy kind, I love it.
Date: 2024-05-22 02:24 am (UTC)Masseuse Mondays. [Nick supplies with a lopsided smirk as he shifts down Hancock's back. Turns out, almost all of the knots were stress and not just a result of ghoulification. Which was great, theoretically, but kicked Nick's anal retentive attention to detail up to eleven. Hancock's back is now like a tangled set of Christmas lights to him and he intends to get these goddamn knots out and everything in order come hell or high water.
(This aggressively bullheaded single-mindedness is what makes Nick a great detective and a questionable massage therapist.)]
Can follow it up with Tattoo Tuesdays. [Now Nick's just joining in on the nonsense, chattering back like call and response as he moves down. Hopefully by the time he reaches the knots he actually has to work out along Hancock's thighs and backside and across his sacrum and hips, the ghoul will be too blissed out to provide running lascivious commentary. (Again, not because Nick is opposed, he just really wants to finish.)]
:D
Date: 2024-05-22 02:52 am (UTC)[ He must be feeling silly, slinging out imaginary job offers as such. Usually it's an effect that takes some kind of chem... well, oxytocin is technically a chemical. Now, a human might get tender under such constant, not-quite-obsessive-compulsive-kneading, but Hancock is a ghoul, a masochist, and has about 40-odd years of knots in his muscles so he's gunna lay there and take every ounce of delicious punishment. He's already on the bed, moving be damned. If Nick wants him to jelly-limbed and jubilant to jump right into sex, he's doing a fantastic job.]
So then... do we do Wasted Wednesdays or Thirsty Thursdays? Wedding Wednesdays? Theater Thursdays? What goes better after a massage and a tattoo? [... the types of conversations you have with stoners who are not even high. Probably contributes that his back feels like butter, now. A sudden, intrusive thought:]
--Jesus did you find an extra vertebrae hidden in there somewhere?
This is the most OCD massage I have ever written and it is sending me.
Date: 2024-05-22 04:29 am (UTC)[Nick replies offhandedly as he starts on Hancock's lower back and--damn it all.]
This is going to bother the hell out of me--hold still.
[He knows, he just knows this Christmas light tangle is going to be in every part of Hancock and he can put off some of it but, legs, buttocks, back are all directly connected. So, in as no-nonsense a way as possible he takes one of Hancock's thighs and presses firmly at the center, where the two large muscles meet below his hips, just at the swell of his ass. Naturally, there are about a dozen little knots and tangles and each one he pulls snags something to his hip and sacrum.
Nick, deadly serious at the moment, presses firmly into the meat of Hancock's leg and ass, working those out with the heels of his hands until they're smooth as silk. It's lucky Hancock is a ghoul, this would be swollen and excruciating for anyone else.]
we've been calling ourselves out this whole time no worries dude 🤣🤣🤣
Date: 2024-05-22 04:49 am (UTC)It's a weirdly satisfying pain, like when you slap a mosquito-bite to fade the itch. When the ache dulls from his unnaturally tough tendons and muscles they feel-- better? But, sore? Is this true catharsis?
Hancock is so very, very tempted to make some terrible joke about Nick groping his butt; the mind is willing, but the flesh is-- putty, really. Plus he's pretty dead certain from the tone of Nick's fussing that this is one million percent business, for the moment. Guy's on a damn mission, here. Like he's wracking up a score card. Hancock's chuckle is all gooey but charmed and sated-sore.]
Ain't no extra points for completion, ya know. Not unless ya really want 'em
Please enjoy this absurd statement.
Date: 2024-05-22 06:26 am (UTC)I'm not about to half-ass half of your ass, pal.
[And as if that isn't the strangest thing he's ever said, Nick continues as he works, with the slight aura of a man being questioned about how he's going about repairing a car. He does relax a bit when it becomes apparent that Hancock isn't about to start trying to embarrass him about this. It'd be child's play to get him flustered right now and he really does want to do a good, and complete job.
Hancock just spent something like five hours tattooing him. A thorough massage is the literal least Nick can do.]
And no, not a chiropractor either.
Used to go to one--er, that is Nick the former. Given how everyone's always on my back about everything, it's not all that surprising.
This RP has some GOLDEN quotes for real
Date: 2024-05-22 05:59 pm (UTC)Don't half-ass much at all, do ya? Love that about ya... put your whole damn heart n' soul into everything ya do.
[ He's being rather complementary but it's a difficult inclination to resist when Nick is lavishing on the affectionate attention with such meticulousness. Not only do the unique compositions of their bodies fit together (a synth's relentlessness, a ghoul's resilience) but their personality schematics also link like puzzle pieces; Nick's driven desire for completion of his mother-henning, and Hancock's willingness to lay here and bask. ]
Makes sense, guy havin' human-type muscles an' all. Ever think it's funny that both you and me got recollections of smoother skinned proto-selves? Not the kinda thing a lotta folk just get, feel me?
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Date: 2024-05-22 06:37 pm (UTC)What a wild thought.
As Nick gets back to it and, in doing so, inches closer to being done, he offers a thoughtful hum.]
Now I know this going well, you only get existential when you're feelin' good. [Said fondly.
As for Nick's obsessive need to complete things to the best of his ability, well, he's starting to wonder if that isn't hard baked into him. Part of his skeleton, as it were. Nick the human was dogged as a cop, but he didn't have the driving need to really finish everything.
It's so strange to realize what parts of himself are his alone and Hancock just keeps adding to that pile, either though offhand comments or tattoos.
But before Nick realizes it, he's finally finished untangling that box of metaphorical Christmas lights. Hancock's skin is too heavy and textured to really see the tenderness of a heavy massage, but he does seem to have a little more color to him.]
Alright, done. I miss anything?
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Date: 2024-05-22 07:39 pm (UTC)By the time Nick is finished, Hancock's body can't quite make sense of what happened to it. He's used to having one foot in pleasure and the other in pain, a master of riding the temperance of sensation-- but he's never felt anything exactly like this before. Partial massages are fairly standard foreplay but it takes a certain mad-hat dedication (a certain degree of selflessness) to complete a full body massage without getting sidetracked, or worn out. ]
Mm'I supposed to feel like I got no bones left?
[ All it's going to take is the tiniest atom of radiation to activate his unnatural healing ability, and the ghoul will be bouncing around like a brand new slinky on cocaine. For the moment his body still feels raw and confused, hot-without-heat, like an ice-cube freezing in reverse. ]
You can... go and stick a fork in me now... Mmphmmn...
[ He tempts fate with an experimental little stretch and... nothing cracks? Nothing at all? Nothing even crinkles? He goes boneless again but not before turning his eyes back to Nick, attempting to school an incredulous squint over his wildly warm and devoted smile. ]
Ya actually killed me, didn't ya? No way my body actually feels like this. This is my brain makin' peace [ He's jesting again, endearment overflowing as thrusts himself onto his side and reaches out to grab Nick's wrist, lightly pulling him onto the bed. ] C'mere, I'll show ya what ya missed Sunshine~
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Date: 2024-05-22 07:54 pm (UTC)Hancock tugs him down and Nick goes along without anything resembling resistance. The synth drops onto his side, lopsided smile stretched wide. They've literally spent the last six or seven hours together, touching the whole time, and somehow it only begrudgingly counts as enough. Hancock was turning him into a sap.
(Okay, fine. He was a sap long before Hancock, but the ghoul sure is bringing out the strongest of those urges.)]
That's a new one. [Sunshine? Not really the first thing he'd have gone with, given how his whole vibe is called Noir, but he's not about to argue with Hancock about it. He's a little worried that the ghoul might be sore, but that thought passes as quickly as it arrives--Hancock's a glutton for pain, post-massage tenderness doesn't come close to rising to that bar. Still, Nick being Nick, he can't help the vaguely warning look he levels at the ghoul.]
Don't go messing up all my hard work. [Is what he goes with, by way of mother henning, before leaning in and catching his mouth for a kiss.]
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Date: 2024-05-22 10:50 pm (UTC)[ 'Mornin Sunshine', he had said. Maybe the tag was kind of slanted ironically, around Nick's entire vibe. But actually, the synth just makes Hancock feel stupid-happy, so on the other hand, perhaps the nickname is both sincere and ironic at once? Ironic from Mayor Johnny, sincere from Hancock.
It stops mattering so much when Nick is beside him and kissing him, and Hancock can twine his jelly-limbs around the synth's torso and bask in his gratifying proximity. He had warned Nick, hadn't he? That the guy would get sick of him? Seems like Nick is determined to win that bet though, to prove him wrong; the detective's indulgence extends far and beyond the intricate efforts of his massage technique. ]
Mmm... so I'm supposed to what, just lay here...? Gunna have to move eventually...
[ A jesting complaint, because Hancock does not want to move one single inch. He keeps shifting to tuck his head against Nick's collar but, at the very last moment, deciding to steal another brush-stroke of a kiss. ]
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Date: 2024-05-23 12:06 am (UTC)[Nick's enjoying jelly-limbed Hancock tucked against him, but he has a point. He does have to move eventually, get up, put a shirt back on, etc...but that does put Nick in a spot. Caught between a rock and an excruciatingly comfortable ghoul.
He'd been so prepared for Hancock to tease while he was working knots out, he'd even been sure to assure himself that he could finish working his muscles loose and then they could dance afterward. Now that Hancock is cuddled up with him, the lack of that lascivious edge leaves Nick keenly aware of how lewd his own thoughts had been running. It's not like he can spend an hour or better groping his partner and walk away unaffected--even if he'd been all business.
And, well, Hancock jived with people expressing their needs...so...]
I mean, you could. For a while. [Nick hedges in a way that speaks to how close to being flustered he is.] Just...lie back and enjoy while I, uh, suck you off?
[Nick can't help but wince a little at that phrasing, but, well, he...wants to?]
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Date: 2024-05-23 12:29 am (UTC)Eh? Ya wanna...? [ It still feels like an unfair cheat, that that should be a mechanism of satisfying Nick's pleasures. But the guy went and asked outright, which is a huge demonstration of his trust in Hancock's reactions. Nick's a shy, old-timey boyfriend by most accounts. An out-right ask isn't an easy maneuver for him.
And somehow that just makes it spicy-sweeter to hear. ]
Pretty rare ya talk so blunt, Slick. I ever tell ya how much the sound'a your voice fires me up?
[ Hancock stalls his luxuriant rolling with one more firm clean kiss, cut through with a red-velvet growl. Then he's sprawling on his back, pulling his paramour on top of him with the momentum. ]
You feelin' indulgent? G'on, spoil me
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Date: 2024-05-23 01:14 am (UTC)[Nick settles his weight on his arms once Hancock flips them, his expresison has tipped clean over to embarrasment by then, but he's happy he offered. If only to hear that growl and watch his boneless ghoul lounging back. The invitation is one Nick takes gladly--spoiling is something he's perpetually fond of and he's definitely feeling indulgent.
He dips down once and catches Hancock's mouth again, this time less chase and less clean. As blunt as his offer was, just diving into it is still a bit beyond him. Nick enjoys the dancing as much as the dance and kissing Hancock is one of his favorite numbers. He's not in a hurry at the moment, and his kissing reflects that, moving in languid sweeps of the tongue and drags of teeth.
When he finally comes up for air, and it's a while before he does, he grins against the corner of Hancock's mouth.]
You want to tell me about it? My voice n' all?
[Since Nick certainly isn't going to be doing much talking in a few moments, it'll be nice to hear.]
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Date: 2024-05-23 02:07 am (UTC)The compassionate kiss quenches a craving he couldn't even begin to name; despite the promise of more explicit enjoyment, the ghoul is more than glad to bask in the shallows, sunning. When their tongues brush in tandem, when Nick's teeth so softly catch his lip, the ghoul relents flowing, felicitous sighs with small clips of pleasured vocals.
When Nick hangs that smirk at the corner of his mouth Hancock is out of breath, but less viciously so than their usual entanglements entail. ]
This a praise-kink I'm sensing, partner? Wanna hear me croon 'bout those velvet vocals makin' me weak in the knees? How sometimes I can't even think'a you callin' me sweetheart, or how you cuss when your close to crashin, cuz it heats me up too damn much?
[ His hands sweep along Nick's ribs and hang listlessly onto the fabric of his shirt. He still feels like butter. Like warm, rippling butter. At least he still has language processing? ]
S'not even fair, just mindin' my own business, goin' on my day, and suddenly I'm thinking about your mouth, heartbeat drops into my gut and I'm grinnin' like an idiot... just dreamin' about this feeling...
[ He's woven filthier figments, to be sure. This attempt at talking dirty came out rather sappy, didn't it? Call that the after-effects of a long-ass tattoo and a long-ass massage. Seriously, they're not tired of each other yet? Not if Hancock's gravely, heartfelt praise is anything to go by. ]
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Date: 2024-05-23 02:50 am (UTC)He'd worked the knots out through Hancock's trousers, and feeling the texture of his skin atop the softness of his worked over muscles is enthralling. A hundred sensory flags trip as Nick goes. They're the same hundred that have been tracking everything he's worked free, every knot and tangle. It's no small wonder he's
hornyamorous, he's been running at sixty percent capacity all day. He still had forty percent left to play around with, now, and he knew exactly how he wanted to fill that processing gap.]You can't be good at acting, tattoos, and poetry. Gonna have to pick one.
[Nick's lamplight eyes stare along the length of Hancock's body as he pulls his trousers down to his thighs. The synth isn't going for seduction here--he's already got the ghoul in his bed--he just can't help watching his face as he sinks down on him. Hancock's not fully engaged in the situation, yet, but that's fine by Nick.
Just means a few more minutes of contact, of sensory data, a new experience to log. Nick laves his tongue along Hancock's semi with casual ease and then takes it into his mouth like he wants nothing more than to be doing what he is doing. Nick had warned him that he wouldn't get tired of this, and it was true. Thankfully, Hancock seemed to be on the same page about it all.]
MY GLASSES LITIRALLY FOGGED UP WTFFFFFF
Date: 2024-05-23 03:26 am (UTC)And you... can't keep makin' me bust like a damn horny teenager... over, and over... I got stamina, ya know. Resilience... Presence. But you break me down so easy... strip me off and spread me and I fuckin' love everything you make me feel
[ His knees bend but they're still like lead-and-jello, so after a moment the ghoul's heels go skittering down Nick's back. His knees hang loose and parted around the synth's shoulders, and while Hancock doesn't have the presence to sit up he can't stop staring down at his endlessly giving and gracious lover. ]
Mmm--fuck, that's it, just like that. You're so good Nick-- your mouth is so fuckin' addictive. Love bein' down your throat, just like this, got the sweetest damn mouth I ever fucked.
[ Praise kink, indulged? He's doing his best, it's a small miracle the words are plain English. ]
MINE TOO. (Also Nick just. Really enjoys sucking dick. He would cockwarm 1000%.)
Date: 2024-05-23 04:05 am (UTC)The synth can't deny he likes it rough, that he savors the force and zeal, the excruciating stretch and fingers denting the back of his skull. This is not that and it hits a different part of Nick's senses, settles in a whole separate sector and it has him by the throat in the gentlest, most fragile way. He keeps his eyes on Hancock's face until he can't spare the processing for visuals any longer.
Textured weight slides past his voice-box, trailing liquid and residual heat, stretching the circumference of his trachea. Each iris lights up as he swallows Hancock down, each new ping a jolt to his system. He's getting used to this, it's familiar enough that the data is aggregating, building a baseline, but that just gives him more processing space around it, freedom to notice other detail. Somehow, there is somehow always another detail.
Nick's favorite is the flutter and hammering of Hancock's pulse, how it races and skips as he inhales, as he sucks hard and just holds him down his throat. It plays across his systems like a drug and Nick can't help the way his expression shifts or how he groans as he eases back into rhythm.]
DAMN WEATHER FOGGING OUR GLASSES 🥵🥵🥵sum1 should fund that >>;;
Date: 2024-05-23 05:02 am (UTC)One hand slides onto the back of Nick's neck where it meets his skull; intricately-textured fingers fan out, flow down the approximation of vertebrae, float back up with soothing encouragement. ]
Was already so fixated-- so obsessed with your mouth-- then by the will of the gods ya got damn lubricant installed? Dia-fucking-bolical... I'm haunted, Nick-- I'm fucking outta my mind hooked on the way ya swallow my cock
[ Ghoulish skin thickens by merit of being so tough, but the effect is least pronounced across the naturally supple, elastic flesh of Hancock's dick; that means his pulse runs just beneath the thinnest layer of flesh squeezed tight in the sleeve of Nick's throat. The heady, needy blood-flow would be evident enough to touching hands and fingers, never-mind the unique sensory awareness of Nick's oral machinery. As the ghoul's pulse quickens he struggles to slow his breath in contrast, keeping the tempo as slow as he can possibly bare. ]
Ya always knock me down so quick, buckle my knees like I'm a fuckin' amateur... but I don't wanna stop... your mouth is so, so good love, I don't want it so end so fast... Never, ever gunna get enough
*Adds it to the list*
Date: 2024-05-23 05:28 am (UTC)The muscles in Nick's back try flinch in cascade, an approximation of a shiver reflex. His core systems throw flags, warnings about something above unshielded vital systems, a log of text and readings fly across the backs of his eyelids. This sensation has no baseline at all--people don't touch him like this and his control systems aren't sure what to do about it. Nick's throat tightens around Hancock in a reflex that the synth doesn't fully control.
But Hancock's made a request of him, however blended into the praise it might be.
Slow--Nick can--he can do that--he obliges readily, especially with the tightness in his throat, and slows until he can feel every milimeter as it breaches into his throat. Nick savors the intrusion like a fine wine, like good scotch, like each time the word love tumbles casually from Hancock's lips. Despite slowing down, however, Nick's fans are working doubletime.
The vents for those fans are embedded in a seam along that reinforced plate, along the silicon seams where his neck meets his back. The feeling of Hancock's fingers gliding through the streams of hot air, backing up the fans just the slightest bit in the process, has Nick ready to lose it. With his eyes closed he drops fewer frames, hitches less, but every word Hancock says makes him just that much laggier, costs him miliseconds, even seconds of time.
It's like--like Hancock can just casually knock him out of his body and chooses to do so in time with his own heartbeat. He has that silver tongue that unravels Nick--and Hancock's praising him?
He'd laugh but, well--you know.]
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Date: 2024-05-23 07:03 am (UTC)That's perfect, just like that. God Nick-- could stay like this all damn night. Don't want ya to stop-- [ he can feel the coil of mechanical irises around every single inch of him; he can feel where the pressure slides along the veins so close to the surface of his skin, tapering his thrashing pulse. He wants to buck into the synth's mouth like he's starving for climax but he can't, and the frustration adds rasp and depth to the groan that finally cuts off his torrent of dizzily uttered praise.
It's easier to part his thighs than buck his hips. Easier to fan his fingers over the back of Nick's skull than cling for dear life and the sake of leaving dents. When he finally manages to find language again, it's just Nick's name, and yes, and the occasional distorted collection of sounds that almost, almost sounds like please.
He doesn't even know what he's asking for. He's halfway-mad and pleasure-cooked and his heels are dragging against the synth's back as the onslaught of bliss makes him lethargically writhe. ]
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Date: 2024-05-23 05:50 pm (UTC)Nick's processors can't handle it all--he has to surrender something if he wants to keep going, but he can't. His desire to record all of this supercedes his efforts to draw it out. The pressure against his tight throat is excruciating and perfect, but it's everything else on top that twists Nick's processors into a knot, devouring all his system resources until there's just nothing left. He'd hate to leave Hancock wanting, but Nick can't handle all of it at once--
The synth swallows hard around Hancock and that last flood of data knocks him clear over the edge. Each feed flashes a capacity warning, throws up a rainbow of flags, and then closes, one by one, firing off like fireworks behind his eyes. When his eyes cut out, the last thing Nick can do is groan around the cock in his throat. There's a cathode burst of energy as his capacitors overload and his systems go briefly dark.]
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From:Oh man the poetry ;u;
From:I KNOW the opposing mirrors we make of scenes just ✨✨✨💖💖💖✨✨✨
From:RIGHT. Sorry for the slowness there, my brain can't words so good yet.
From:Shush you every tag is precious <3 one, two, ten, it's all gold
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From:~End?
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