#techboy

[seirtnasaelp]

pick your poison

[random-imagines-blog]

King of the Wasteland {Tech Boy x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 1745 Summary: Tech-Boy finds it hard to tell you how he feels. It’s a good thing you’re a master of communication. Notes: Language. It is Techboy after all.

Technology is meant to be cold. It’s meant to be used for your purposes and then upgraded, and then thrown away. It wasn’t supposed to develop any sort of feeling. It’s representation as one of the ‘New Gods’ wasn’t like the others, who things were sacrificed to in order to incite favor. It was just supposed to work. And so it did for many, many years. Doing the thing that it was just supposed to do - until Mr. World had come into play, and stirred things up. And you. You had been the last thing that the Technical Boy had expected to come into his life and shake it like James Bond’s martini.

One of the New Gods yourself, you were on the fence about the war, having friends on both sides. Tech-Boy had been sent to try to lure you over onto his side. The winning side, he had promised. And with that charming tongue, he enticed you and you moved from neutral onto the new side, but preferred the sidelines because all of this violence and taunting was not your style.

It was his, so he did it on behalf of both of you.

“Irrelevant, medieval,” He ranted as you sat on your couch, sipping at a glass of wine. He had been turned down again by one of the other Gods, and turned to you in order to bitch about it. You didn’t speak, knowing that it was much better to let him get it out of his system. Shadow Moon - Wednesday - Bilquis. He would talk about all of them while you listened. He didn’t need advice. He wouldn’t have welcomed it, not even from you. He knew best.

He managed to get most of it out of his system, and then collapsed next to you on the couch. He brought his vape out of his pocket, and took a puff. It exuded a smoke that smelled of watermelon. Your favorite. You lightly tapped against his knees in a morse code pattern, telling him that everything was going to be okay.

“What in the fuck are they doing to me? Sending me as their errand boy,” He said, leaning his head back, exposing his long neck. “If I didn’t have you, I’d fucking explode.”

That wasn’t altogether new, but it was an unexpected compliment from him.

“All I do is listen,” You said, making little circles over his knees now. Communication was your talent, your gift to the world - made more prevalent by the psychiatrists of the last century and a half who found new ways of doing it. Body language. Different types of love languages. You even worked with technology on many things - morse code, binary. Media was your sister in many ways, and combined you created social media. That was the thing about Gods - they could merge. They became many things over time. Developed new skills as humanity became more and more creative about what they wanted and what they needed. “You’re more skilled than you realize. You’ve brought me and others onto your side. You just need to ... find the right language.”

He looked over at you, and seemed to evaluate what working with you on this would bring him. And then he nodded, agreeing with you. He paced around the couch and then settled down beside you, pulling his bony knees up to sit cross-legged. Such a Tech-Boy thing to do. He had troubles sitting still. He always felt the need to evolve. To be better. Restlessness was his demon.

“I-” He started. You turned your head to look at him, eye to eye. Whatever he was going to say didn’t come out. He looked like he had lost his nerve. You tilted your head to the side, patiently waiting for him to continue with it. “I...”

He’d never lost his words like this before. Been interrupted and stopped speaking, sure. But when all was silent, he always managed to fill it, even if it wasn’t in the most eloquent way. He was probably about as elegant as a gigantic elephant, stomping around, but instead of loud footsteps, he had his foul language. Not your greatest achievement in language.

“I appreciate it,” He finally managed to say. You nodded, and finished off your glass of wine, setting the goblet onto the table, and stretched out, your legs going over his body. It was hardly the first time. In fact, you were the only person that he allowed to get so close like this. His arm settled on top of your leg, and he had his thinking expression on. There was always something going on behind those dark eyes of his. And it was rare that he stuttered like that. Below his dignity, you would have thought.

“You seem like you want to say something else,” You said, speaking aloud what you were picking up on. He was tense. He was stressed quite a bit, but rarely tense. Of course you were going to notice. And of course you were going to grow worried. “What is it?”

“Fuck,” He said, rubbing the space between his eyes, breaking off the contact. That alone told you something. It was something about you. He was having trouble saying it.

“Just say it, boy,” You said, nudging him in the stomach with your knee. He held your leg down now, so you wouldn’t be able to do it again. He was stronger than those little twig arms would have you believe.

“I really fucking hate it when you call me that,” He said, glaring at you then looked away quickly. You sighed, and started to massage your own neck.

“Well, we’re going to be joining the old Gods by the time that you finally say whatever it is,” You spoke a bit dramatically. But that was what it was going to take. He was worrying you. But if you showed that to him, he would just revoke whatever it was. He wouldn’t say it. He’d go on ranting so he would seem normal again.

“I never speak properly to you,” He said, like this was some sort of revelation.

“What do you mean?”

“All I do is talk about this fucking war, how annoying media is, how much I hate Shadow...”

“Well, yes, but those are big parts of your life, our lives right now,” You said, reaching over and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Though you do seem really focused on Shadow Moon for some reason. You would feel a lot better if you just left that to Mr. World. You aren’t the only soldier in his army, after all.”

“Fucking right I’m not,” He grumbled.

His hands started to rub at your leg. It didn’t seem like he knew that he was doing it. His fingers made any tension that you were holding under your skin disappear. You weren’t about to start complaining. You smiled lazily, and moaned through your nose, enjoying it. He kept his eyes on you, watching you. “I need to tell you something,” He said, emphasizing the word need. You nodded, and decided to wait patiently this time. Clearly the pressure of earlier hadn’t worked.

He started to look like a fish that had been taken out of water. Or like a child in a school choir who forgot the words and was miming singing. “A little to the left,” You whispered, and his hands moved of their own volition, getting the sweet spot.

The room was preternaturally quiet. You did not keep clocks around in your house, so there wasn’t even the sound of one ticking.

“I -” He started, but then failed again. “Why do you have to make communicating so fucking hard sometimes? Isn’t it your job to make it easy?”

“I’m not trying to make it hard for you,” You said, watching him struggle. It hurt you a bit to see him that way. “Is there any other way that you could tell me?”

“What do you think I’m fucking doing here?” He asked. You pursed your lips and looked over all that he was doing. You took in all of those visual cues to try to understand what he was getting at. When it hit you, it hit you fast and by surprise. You hadn’t been expecting this message, let alone for it to be so loud and clear.

“And yet you still cannot say it?” You teased. It might have been malicious, he certainly thought that it was, but he smirked and looked away from you, focusing his attentions on the table.

“I ... love wine., He picked up your abandoned glass. There were still a few drops, clinging onto the bottom. Not enough to swirl but he attempted it anyway. You laughed lightly,  and shook your head. Well, some people were better at other forms of commuication than others. Tech-Boys wasn’t verbal, as was becoming abundantly clear. But it was physical.

“Silly boy,” You said, moving in closer to him.

“Don’t fuckin-” He was going to complain about you calling him that once again, but you stopped him with a bit of physical communication of your own. A kiss, put on his lips from yours. It was enough to make him shut up for a moment. Right in the middle of a swear too, which was no small feat.

He kissed back with a hunger that had been growing in his stomach for weeks. It had started off with a small craving, like one that he got whenever he discovered a new drug out there. But then when he had tried to brush it off, wipe it out of his mind, focus on work, it grew and it grew. It became so large, that he didn’t even have the room to develop the words to make it happen. His body went on autopilot, doing the work for him.

There were sparks flying during this kiss - both literally and figuratively. Little bits of electricity shocked the skin of both of you, until it became almost too much to bear and you pulled away, giggling at all of these sensations.

“Are you always this premature, or am I just lucky?” You asked.

“You and your fucking teasing.”

“What can I say? It’s how I communicate.”

[hisdeadwife]

Any one have gifs of Tech and New Media together? Would love all that's out there. Please and thank you so so much.

[seirtnasaelp]

Its my oc's birthday

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine breaking Tech-Boy out of New Gods’ Headquarters.

It was not easy to get into the headquarters of the New Gods, especially since you weren’t invited, which one of the faceless people, wearing one of it’s generic disguises, picked up on immediately when you tried to enter the building. You took care of that pretty quick. A little shot from your gun and it dissolved into pixels. But then there was more. And more.

At least Mr World wasn’t around, probably off hunting Wednesday, as he did, or rather getting some poor soul to do it for you. You didn’t care who won the war - just as long as you were left alone after all was said and done. You - and Tech.

You finally found him, lying still in the basement, with one of his weird contraptions over his head. No, not still. His fingers were tapping at the device, despite not being able to see it. “Tech?” You asked, lightly putting your hand on his shoulder. He didn’t react at all. He just kept going.

Then suddenly, the device seemed to break down, collapse upon itself, and you were able to see his familiar face, the blonde hair, the blue eyes, the tooth gap that you told him he must never change. It was so reassuring to see it that you almost actually cried out ‘thank God’ but stopped yourself lest one of them actually heard you.

“Y/N?” He asked, sitting up, looking surprised to see you, which made you stop and roll your eyes. As if you wouldn’t come and save his ass any day of the week. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Getting you the fuck outta dodge, what do you think? And now that you’re out of your powernap, can we get moving? My car is gonna get towed if we don’t hurry.”

“Fuck,” Tech-Boy said, getting up and grabbed hold of your hand, pulling you in for a kiss which you returned eagerly. And quickly. Because you weren’t lying. You were on the clock.

“Fuck is right,” You said, pulling back and took his hand. “Now let’s fucking GO.”

Requested by: Anonymous

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine Tech-Boy trying to protect you from his world.

Tech-Boy hadn’t been ready to see you again, but his limo had just so happened to take him right towards your door without him having to ask for it to do so.

“Fuck,” He said, getting out despite everything in him telling him not to do this. His heart and his brain were not working in unison on this one, and the former was being loud tonight. Don’t do this, boy, don’t tell the only person who cares about you to fuck off.

“Tech?” You asked, opening your door before he could step towards it. He stopped in place, and stepped back into the shadows as one of his little spasms took over, still being affected by whatever it was that Bilquis had done to him. “What are you doing, just come inside,” You laughed, thinking this was some sort of game.

“I can’t do that,” He said, remaining further in the dark. “And I’m going to need you to stop asking me to.”

“Okay, okay, whatever mood you’re in, don’t take it out on me,” You crossed your arms and leaned against the doorframe. “If you’re not coming in, what are you here for?”

“Just came to say goodbye,” He said, feeling another spasm coming on. They were getting more and more frequent. “So bye.”

He climbed back into the car before you could say anything else. Because he knew that if you asked him to stay, or invited him inside again, he would give in. The car started to drive, taking him anywhere away from you. He didn’t care where. People got hurt in his world, it was a wonder anyone fucking survived in this place. And he wasn’t dragging you down with him.

Requested by: Anonymous

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine Tech-Boy using your hugs as stress relief.

You couldn’t remember what exactly Tech Boy’s problem was, he had mumbled about it hours earlier, but none of it had really caught your attention.

“Can’t believe it happened,” He said sharply, against the fabric of your sweater. His face was buried there, his arms around you as you attempted to give him some sort of comfort. “Fucking asshole.”

“You’ll get it next time,” You said, hoping that was the right response. It seemed to be, for he held you closer, long fingers digging into your back, refusing to let go.

“Gonna lynch that little shit - stupid humans...” He said, though to you it just sounded like noises. He was muffled now, words disappearing into the threads.

“Right...” You said, running your fingers through his fluffy hair. “But that’s for tomorrow. Tonight, let’s focus on something better, shall we?”

Requested by: Anonymous

[random-imagines-blog]

They Speak the Language {Tech Boy x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2181 Summary: Tech-Boy’s bad mood is starting to get to you, so you start to look for inspiration to turn it around. Notes: Contains bad language.

You knew it was a bad idea to get involved in the war between the old gods and the new. You were somewhere in the middle, along with a couple of others, who could very well tip the scales. And it wasn’t that you believed that one side was better than the other either. But one side had someone that you cared for more than the others. And that was the dangerous, marvelous, grumpy little thing that you knew as Tech-Boy. Of course you had thought that he was a bit of a douche when you met him for the first time, shortly after his emergence into the world. Everybody did. It was a part of his charm. But deep down, yeah, there was a heart there. After all, not all technology is meant to be cold. Most of it was built to help others, or to improve lives. He just took the functional part of it a little too seriously at times.

You took a lot of rides with him in his special car. Sitting in the back with him as it drove itself - or rather, one of the faceless minions drove - around the different cities. Anywhere you wanted to go, you could. New York one minute, LA the next. Technology had no bounds, no limits, and so - neither did Tech-Boy.

“Why are you wearing your shirt like that,” You scoffed once you realized what it was that he was wearing. The jacket itself was nice, but he only had the top three buttons fastened. The rest were undone, showing off the red shirt underneath. “You look like you’re preparing for a huge dinner or something. You don’t even eat. What gives?”

You poked at his thin stomach, and he shoved your arm away. He adjusted the coat so it was exactly how he liked it, the open flaps down. “It’s the new look, y/n. Not that you know anything about what’s new.”

“Wow, someone’s being fucking harsh,” You said, folding your arms around yourself. You’d grown used to his rather ... delicate temper over the years. You knew not to take offense. “What crawled in your vape and died?”

“New Media,” He grumbled. You nodded, knowing that was a pretty good reason. The bubbly but bitchy new form of Media was a pain in the ass. You preferred the old. At least she had class. And a pretty good David Bowie impersonation.

“Say no more,” You said, sinking into the interior of the seat. You made yourself comfortable as the car went. You didn’t know where you were, nor did you know where you were going. It was more so about the journey than the destination. And with this teched-out car, the journey was definitely in style. “Just don’t forget that she owes her existence to you. Without the printing press, smartphones, internet - all that you have created - she’d be nothing. Lord it over her. I do it all the time.”

“You talk about me to her?” He asked, eyebrows shooting up towards his curls.

“More like I brag about you to her,” You snorted. “Okay, she might be a bit more superior than I am in the hierarchy, I’m barely anything, but you? Bitch is kidding herself if she thinks that she’s better than you. And guess what, you like me-”

“Barely fucking tolerate-” He muttered.

“-way more than you do her, so in her stupid face.” You didn’t allow his interruption to bother your momentum. You knew that behind that hard, technological, douchebag exterior was a heart wrapped in microchips. A soft, beating heart.

“She just doesn’t have to be so fucking smug,” He said. You could still feel anger coming off of him like heat waves. You just chuckled at his attitude - he really let things get under his skin. And he tried so hard to pretend to be this big tough guy.

“Don’t worry about it,” You said, patting his knee. “You’ll be around for the rest of time, and media is just going to be a fad. Especially her kind of media. She’ll get reborn again and again, as media changes. So -- forgedd abou-it.” You attempted your best accent, trying to sound like the Italians in the movies.

“You’re fucking horrible, you know that?” He said to you. But before he turned his head, you could just make out the corner of his lips going up into a smile. You would call that a success.

“So where are we off to, today? Silicon valley to go and mess with the nerds? Seattle to go and talk to Bill Gates? Come on, hit me with something fun.”

He just shrugged in retaliation. “I don’t feel like fucking with anyone today. I just want to .... go.”

“Okay, then let’s go...” You said, eyebrows furrowed. It really didn’t feel like it was a success anymore. He was closing off from you again, and you didn’t have any other choice but to let it happen.

-

You drove around for hours. There wasn’t anyway to measure the time, and the windows were permanently dark so you couldn’t see if it was day or if it was night out there. It didn’t matter. You had nowhere that you had to be, nor anywhere that you would rather go. He did slowly start to open back up. He bitched a lot, but he was well known for doing that. You would be much more concerned if he suddenly started to be positive. But he was slowly getting there.

It must be hard for him. He always provided what the people wanted, and what they needed. There was a difference between the two and he gave both. But there was always so much pressure to do more. To be better. He could outdo himself on one thing, and the next day, people would be clammering for bigger and better. He never got to actually enjoy what he gave.

Even those who had helped to bring into this world, like Media, and New Media. They came from him. They wouldn’t be here without him. And yet, they also just asked for more, more, more. They took, and they took. And gave nothing in return. They claimed some of his gifts to this world. They made it all about them. Look what I can do! If you worship me, you’re worshiping yourself! Narcissism at the touch of a button! Look at this celebrity’s ass! Look at these tits! Oh, a dick pic! Look, look, look.

What a lonely existence that he must have, you thought, as you watched him take puff after puff out of his vape. You don’t really know what he did outside of these drives with you. He never talked about it - only mentioned World and Media in passing. Not what he did with them. Not how the war plans were going. He tended to keep you separate from that part of his life.

“Fuck it,” You said, leaning forward in your seat. “Pull over.”

The driver did what he, or rather it, was told, and pulled the car over to the side of the road. You didn’t even know where you were. It could have been in a field, or a dark and creepy alley, or the suburbs of Albuquerque.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Tech asked, looking at you like you had suddenly gone insane.

“You’re acting like an asshole,” You said, shrugging, and opened your door. “And it’s honestly killing my vibe so... I’m going out to find it again.”

“Find your vibe? Here’s your vibe check-” He said, making a gun with his fingers and pointed it at you. “You’re fucking crazy.”

“And?” You got out of the car, and felt the cool night breeze on your face. It blew through your hair, and it felt pretty good after the staleness of the inside of the car. You looked at your surroundings, and grinned as you saw some lights not too far in the distance.

A movie theater. Absolutely perfect.

Tech-Boy slid out of the car as well, and stood in the middle of the street. His facial expression left you no doubts that he was doing this against his will. He didn’t want to be out here. “What the fuck are you doing?” He finally asked.

“Come on, you big grump,” You said, taking hold of his hand and started to pull his thin frame towards the theater. He grumbled, but he walked along. Once you were inside, you noticed that there was an arcade area, for those who came too early for the movie. “Let’s have some fun. You really seem like you need it.”

Eventually, you had him paying air-hockey. He only half-ass played until you scored on him three times in a row, and then his more competitive streak started to show. He was moving back and forth, using his striker to block off all of your attempts. And just when it seemed like you were slowing down, he went from defense to offense. The puck shot across the table and straight through the slot on your side. The table let out a clang, and added one to his score. You picked out the disk with amusement as you watched him do a little shimmy dance. His thin little hips stuck out of his designer jeans, making you chuckle.

“I’m still ahead, douche,” You said, putting the puck down and shooting it while he was distracted. He was quick though, and blocked it, sending it back your way.

You played five games, until best three out of five, which he ended up winning. You hadn’t let him either - that wouldn’t have been fair. You then went onto the motor-races, with the chairs and the steering wheels. This was also something that he was better at than you were, but you didn’t mind losing. It was seriously so good to hear him laugh. And to hear him say ‘fuck’ in joy when he won, rather than annoyance at someone else.

You got a bag of popcorn and some soda just to watch him play Pacman. “Little - color - fuckers -” He mumbled when they came too close to his circular, yellow character. Only to let out barks of laughter when he got the big pellet and was able to eat them down. “Eat my ass, losers.”

Eventually you were both thrown out due to Tech-Boys language, but you didn’t even care. You didn’t even know which city you were. The likelihood that you would come back was slim to none. You got back into the car, the good mood still going.

“Well, this has been fun,” You said, resting your head on top of Tech-Boy’s shoulder. You were starting to get tired - even some of the minor Gods needed to sleep at times. “I should probably go home though.”

“Okay,” Tech-Boy said, and with a snap of his fingers, the car started to head in that direction. The rest of the ride remained silent, but it was a comfortable silence. Once in a while, a little laugh slipped through as the energy of the night stayed with you.

Eventually it all came to an end as the car stopped outside of your place. You reluctantly took your head off of his shoulder, and got out of the car, but paused before you would close the door. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” He said with a nod, picking up his vape once more.

“Okay - bye Techie. Love you!”

He looked at you like you were crazy, then did a shooing motion to try to get you on your way. But you didn’t move.

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” You questioned, leaning on the top of the door as it swayed under your weight. He curled his nose at you, and then tried to dismiss you again. But you didn’t move, just stood there grinning at him. “Not gonna leave until you say it back, big guy.”

He mumbled something under his breath. You cupped your hand around your ear. “What’s that?”

“Love you too,” He said, finally in a voice loud enough for you to hear. “You fucking freak.”

“Aww, you’re such a softie,” You grinned, sticking your tongue out between your teeth. You finally closed the door and made your way up to your place, the car idling outside until you were safely through the door. Tech-Boy held up his hand to snap his fingers, but didn’t until he saw the light in your window come on. Despite being alone, he smiled, chuckled, then finally told the car to keep on going. He might as well head home - the best part of his night was over.