singularityderp | HORRIBLE MEMES ALL DAY ERRYDAY

Why am I so incredibly handsome and amazing? I don't know. Some guys get all the luck.

follow up to http://community.livejournal.com/singularityderp/3433.html?thread=254057#t254057

Shepard locks Veetor and Legion in together, no coming out until they make nice.

this is canon.

best fill

Eridan riding Toothless all night without a saddle.

What if Veetor was the vegetarian meat substitute in a terminator geth sandwich

prism/delta.

Holobodies. Dicksucking.

York started when Red tumbled into the bed next to him. After living with her as a raptor, it was still strange to encounter her as a human. She had once broken the bed getting into it. Now she weighed roughly a tenth of what she had and her bird-boned frame hardly dented the mattress.

She had take a long time to adjust to being a human. Walking without a tail had been hard. She still tended to bend her knees just a bit too much when she was standing still. Not being able to hunt anymore had been hard on her. On the other hand, she had developed a taste for baked goods and had come to understand why humans cooked their meat. She no longer ate raw hamburger patties from the fridge. All in all, she was coming to terms with the strange new body the station had given her.

Red twisted around until she faced York. Her eyes were dark and round as saucers. She had yet to master the subtle telegraphing that was human facial expressions. She was always an open book.

“York, what is a kiss?” She asked, cocking her head. York barely refrained from giving her a deer in the headlights stare and replying with 'wat'. “For mating, yes? Lips on lips?” Someone must have left a chick flick on.

“Yes, that's correct.”

Red seemed to grow very thoughtful at this. “Then why did Junior ask Tucker for a kiss?”

York rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Mates kiss. But parents kiss their kids too. Just differently.”

Red made a face. “How? Will show?”

“Oh- uh...” York leaned up on one elbow to look down at her. She stared back up at him with her lips scrunched and her forehead creased. The very picture of puzzlement. Her eyes followed his hand as it moved up to brush a few strands of tangled red hair out of her face. He leaned down and planted a soft kiss on her brow. “...Like that,” he explained.

“Oh.” Red put her fingers to the spot that he'd kissed. “Is very nice.” And she leaned forward to reciprocate the gesture. “Night York.”

“Night Red.” He didn't wipe the smear of spit off of his face until she'd rolled over again. What was his life.

aslkfmwaofimwfmweiofmaweifomaw

/SMASHES AGAINST THIS HAPPILY!!!

Awwww, this was adorable.♥

AJSGHAGSHDFA

F'AWWWWWWWWWW

prism/hal.

they both have creepy humanoid bodies now, right?

I demand someone else fill this properly.

Jack/Atlas.

Obligatory "would you kindly"

Human!Red/Tucker. Anything goes.

When York brought Red back home, Tucker hadn't paid much attention. Red looked like she always had when her hologram was up and she'd long since gotten used to having a raptor in the house. It was when she sat on the couch, which surprisingly didn't tilt severely under her weight, that Tucker looked up from teaching Junior how to suck at Mine Sweeper. She looked at the couch, then at Red before raising an eyebrow. "Uh, is there something going on I need to know about?"

Red beamed at her and patted Junior on the head, which he allowed because she was familiar in a strange way. "Am human now. Was accident. Station did something strange." She chirped.

"Oh. That's kinda... really fucking strange. But whatever. This place does weird shit all the time." She turned back to Junior, trying to explain the purpose of the flags again, when Red tugged at her shirt.

"Yeah? What'd you need, Red?"

"Permission."

"Uh, what? Sure, okay. You've got my permission to do whatever."

York was lured to the living room by the sound of high-pitched honking. It sounded a little more than distressed, mostly due to the dash of confusion mixed in. He frowned. If he kept being around Tucker's alien kid, he'd end up speaking the damn language. When he moved into the living room, he saw Junior in his usual place on Tucker's lap, but he seemed a little more than squished. Probably because Red had decided that one of the first things she should do with her human body was wrap her arms around Tucker's middle and press her face into the sim soldier's meager amount of chest.

To her credit, Tucker looked just as confused as he did, and slowly turned her head to stare at York as he entered and mouthed to him silently for help. York, deciding he'd had enough of this kind of thing for today and and in general from Tucker, slowly backed out of the room.

Edited 2010-12-25 22:13 (UTC)

A++

Poor York. Poor Junior. DISTURBED FOREVER.

Jorge/Emile

Someone give this thread (http://community.livejournal.com/singularityderp/4803.html?thread=604867#t604867) a happy ending?

Garrus/Shepard

Shepard is turned on by Garrus voice calling out kill-counts during a mission.

Hijinks ensue.

Jack inhaled sharply as Jorge's calloused fingers toyed with a loose thread on his sweater. They were almost touching, standing close enough that if they were to simultaneously inhale, they certainly would. Jack rested his palms against Jorge's hips, curling his fingers into the hem of his shirt in preparation to lift it up. Jorge's hands engulfed his, stilling him.

“No, Jack,” he whispered. “We leave the sweaters on.”

Jack looked up at him a little uncertainly. Jorge looked down at him with soft brown eyes full of Hungarian admiration. A sure smile rested just below the dark, authoritative bristles of the man's full mustache. The lamplight shimmered off of every hair, thrilling and arousing Jack. He could not resist its siren song.

“Okay,” Jack murmured, roving his hands over Jorge's warm, cashmere covered muscles. Jorge lent substance to the material, the contours of his form still obvious through the delicate fabric. Never before had a cashmere sweater exuded such raw manliness. Jack pressed his face into Jorge, smiling when the Spartan flexed his abs under his cheek.

While Jack was distracted with rubbing their besweatered bodies together, Jorge took the liberty of removing their pants. Jack gasped at the sudden cold air as it rushed across his bottom half. Jorge picked him up and mashed their chests together.

“Oh god, Jorge. That won't fit. That won't-” Jack stared up at him in wide-eyed shock. He could feel Jorge's manhood standing up proud against his thighs. It was the most deadly trousersnake in the world, of this he was sure.

“Shh,” Jorge assured him, brushing his hypnotic mustache against Jack's cheek in a gentle kiss. “It isn't going in anything.”

Jack's nonexistant bosom heaved at the touch. He was too breathless to ask questions, though he was positive Jorge had a plan. The Spartan still held him off of the ground, fingers pressed into his hips gently. With no apparent effort, he began rubbing Jack against his member. The human whimpered at pleasure of the unfamiliar sensation. They built up speed and their sweaters built up enough static electricity to kill a room full of splicers. With a sharp cry, Jack released all over the downy fabric.

Jorge's cock slipped between Jack's abs and his sweater and he continued to thrust. The contrast between Jack's heated underbelly and the soft, cushy fabric was intense. He grunted and shot several volleys of thick seed all over Jack's chest.

They could only hope that there was a dry cleaner on the station.

This was beautiful.

/Dead.

I'm not Commander Shepard, but this IS my favourite fill on the meme.

/SOB This is clearly fic about the game and not about Sing PCs, so I hope that's okay, and man non-con/dub-con/forcing yourself on the mentally handicapped warning: go.

The floor rocked and somewhere, deep beneath the concrete, Jack could make out the feeling of the bedrock crumbling. Fire poured out behind him and there was a sick sort of churning beneath his feet as water separated the foundation of the docks from the seafloor. The floor was rising, or falling, it was impossible to tell and he needed to get the hell out of here. He wheeled around and his wrench caught a splicer across the jaw, the Nitro dropped as his neck twisted round and his gas-mask went flying.

Jack made it around the corner before the oil on the ground caught fire. The corpse, and the grenade box at its side, exploded with a sickening series of wet cracks and concussive booms. It was getting hard to hear, too much was going on at once. The sound of metal above him, sharp and bright, meant he had Spiders after him. The whole room craned to the right and water splashed up, over the causeway. He didn't stop running to check, but the heavy metal crash and the female shriek probably meant that the submarine (or what was left of it) had taken care of the Spiders for him.

"Atlas!?" Jack called into the radio. He wasn't sure if the static he got back was actually coming out of the radio or if he was hearing things. His arm was still fuzzy, jumping with stray electricity, and his head was ringing. He was out of EVE and he had no idea which way to go.

"In here, Boy'o!" It was strange, hearing that voice in real space, not through a radio.

Before Jack could register how surreal it was, there was a firm hand on his upper arm and he was being yanked through a threshold. The steel door slammed shut hard at his heels and the metal floor creaked violently as the hall twisted. The pounding in the back of his skull might have been water hitting the door and bulkhead, he wasn't sure. Jack was working pretty hard to make sure he kept up with the slender Irish man leading him by the arm, and everything else was really a secondary consideration.

"Atlas?" Jack managed as they beat feet toward the seals on Neptune's Bounty proper. "You're alive?"

"Not for long, you don't pick up the pace," Atlas answered in his familiar Irish brogue. His hand shifted and he was pulling Jack by the wrist. Atlas was fast, was that how he got away from the Splicers? "Would you kindly hurry up?"

Jack nodded and picked up the pace. The floor was curling beneath them and the bulkhead was groaning. That was a lot of water. They made it in to the airlock and the door slammed just as the sound of buckling metal filled the hallway behind them. Atlas let him go as he tightened the door lock and the force of the water hitting the wall managed to knock both of them back and onto the floor.

The sole light in the room flickered and Jack looked at Atlas. Atlas was busy staring at the door. After a few moments, the sound of rushing water faded away and silence permeated the tiny room. Another minute crept by and slowly Atlas's eyes started searching the door. Abruptly, Atlas let out a deep, rich laugh and curled forward to slap at his boots. He was still half lying across Jack, but his relief was enough to put a smile on Jack's face.

"We made it, Boy'o, we made it!" Atlas shouted and clapped Jack on the shoulder. His grip tightened and he shook Jack a little before smashing an enthusiastic, half crazed kiss across his lips. Jack froze, more out of general confusion than anything more sophisticated, but Atlas hardly noticed. They parted with a wet smack and Atlas patted him on the cheek as a wide grin split his face.

"What...what about your family?" Jack asked...mostly because it seemed like the prudent thing to ask. Atlas stared at him and a flicker of confusion darted across his face before it crumpled into something resembling sorrow. Jack didn't know how to decipher the expression properly, so his knee-jerk reaction was only partially accurate.

HORRIBLE MEMES ALL DAY ERRYDAY

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Re: //HOT TROLL-ON-BUCKET ACTION//

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/writes about her own characters all day erryday

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COMPLETELY UNBIIDDEN. DEAL WITH IT.

LMAO

/DEALING WITH IT.

Re: COMPLETELY UNBIIDDEN. DEAL WITH IT.

1/? No anon because everyone knows I'm writing this.