Here is a fic commissioned by gunthatshootsennui. He wanted something Brainstorm/Atomizer, and I threw in tentacles with his permission. Be warned this is sticky, something I usually don’t write. But it was my choice, and one I felt was more fitting, given the context. So, if you’re uncomfortable with sticky, don’t read. … Actually, if you’re uncomfortable with starfish sex, you probably don’t want to read, either. Either way, I’m posting it here on my DW account instead of my primary account on LJ, just ‘cause. >=C
As such, this is rated M for sexuality of crazy sorts as well as mild profanity.
This was, however, fun to write! Such silly dorks. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic, Ennui! Word count is a little over 2730.
Oh, and I’m still taking commissions. *wink wonk*
With the way Brainstorm was humming, walking to his room with a cheerful stride in his step, and the briefcase clutched in his hand, it appeared as if he were returning from a nice day at work. So very happy and carefree, his head bobbing to the rhythm, yellow optics squinted into smiles. Brainstorm greeted the few who passed him, most of who just ignored him, while some gave him incredulous looks.
A bouncy, happy-go-lucky Brainstorm did not bode well for the most part. There’d be an explosion of some sort or everybody would be turning into cats that night. Surely something predictably unpredictable would take place because Brainstorm was in a great, spunky mood. An accomplished one, which was even more nerve-racking.
No one dared ask him what was in that large, covered cylinder he was carrying.
Brainstorm was oblivious to the whispers and gossip about him behind his back. That, or he simply did not care. It was not like him to give a damn what people thought of him or his work, anyway - well, okay, maaaybe that wasn’t completely true. But! Let them talk, they were all inferior and jealous. Above all, though, their fear was misplaced, because Brainstorm had not created some newfangled invention that may or may not of displaced all time and space.
Rather, it was something a little more… personal. A little more private.