#Granted he might have SOME chance of getting good at it - he did manage to learn basic karate back in “Squid Defense”...

[blade-liger-4ever]

How Team Prime Reacts to Smokescreen Nearly Becoming a Prime

Arcee

She's speechless, mind buzzing with questions and more than a little disapproval. The rookie? The guy who's mouth never stopped working, who -

.....Went back for Optimus when no one else did. And who, in hindsight, achieved a considerable amount without their aid.

It's still hard for her to accept. Arcee had thought she'd read Smokescreen like an open book, but had she really? Did she understand him like she thought she did? Maybe there was something there Optimus saw that none of them did. Pit, there must be a reason, otherwise the Matrix wouldn't have singled him out like that.

Arcee doesn't say anything for a while about this revelation. She can't even really bring herself to look Optimus or the kid in the optic, though she knows she can't keep avoiding it. When she's cooled her engine, she'll make sure to find the words.

And hopefully, they won't be as harsh as when Smokescreen first arrived on Earth.

Bumblebee

Honestly, Bee's mind is going at Warp Factor Nine over this. He's astounded that a rookie (however much older he is, he's still technically got less experience under his belt than Bee) got the green light from the Matrix. It's incredible, and as insane as it seems, Bee realizes pretty dang quick that Smokescreen's Spark must be at least on the same level as Optimus'.

Because of this, Bee takes to hanging around Smokescreen some more, hopefully subtly. Occasionally he asks questions like what Smokescreen's past was like, where he lived, etc. But while he learns from the questions that it's a less glamorous beginning than compared to Optimus, it all weighs on Smokescreen a great deal.

Seeing this, knowing how terrified his new teammate must be, Bee decides to hear him out and, once accepting that Smokescreen might just be his future Prime (don't die Optimus, please not after that close call), Bee becomes something of a willing information vault for his fellow scout.

A Prime needs experience, right? Bee's got tons, and he's more than willing to share if it means helping Smokescreen out in the future.

Bulkhead

Three thoughts go through Bulk's head in pretty rapid fashion.

The first is Whoa, Prime almost left the rookie in charge? The next is Wait, did I just blaspheme? And the third is Maybe I was too hard on him.

A sense of guilt for his misplaced anger at Smokescreen during his initial time at base hits him then, and he squashes any and all thought of divine retribution to try and puzzle out Smokescreen and his future election to the Primacy. Thinking back on it, they were all unnecessarily harsh on the kid (well, except for Optimus, but he was rarely harsh to anyone.) In hindsight, Bulk realizes that Smokescreen had actually held his own dang well with the 'Cons once he had the actual chance to get into a fight with them. Maybe that was a reason why the Matrix had chosen him. Bulk's seen newbies, and more than half of them lost their head in a way that he'd never seen happen to Smokescreen.

With this new perspective on things, as well as wanting to properly make up for his attitude, Bulk's decided to back Smokescreen up more often. He'd like to offer some sort of advice, but he's never been very good with his words. Actions are his strength.

Bulk feels that may be the key, and so with any luck, Smokescreen can glean something from his fighting style and the occasional tale from his Wrecker days.

Ratchet

Ratchet's had many a suspicion since the fall of Darkmount about Optimus and Smokescreen's miraculous return. He's kept them to himself, but given the state Optimus must have been in to warrant Smokescreen using the Forge to heal him, and how Optimus would never have allowed it...

The revelation is not much of one to him, though the shock of how close Optimus came to joining the AllSpark still manages to rattle him. Pondering, thinking things over, Ratchet recalls how Alpha Trion always favored Orion Pax during his days as an Archivist. Granted, he'd never known the old 'Bot that well - he'd had his servos busy with medical studies, duties, and keeping tabs on the new medicines and procedures that were constantly flowing through Iacon, and so had rarely had the time to spare getting to know the head Archivist.

And yet he should have seen the signs. That Alpha Trion didn't share with just anyone how he petitioned Halogen to speak on Orion's behalf for Primehood, or how Smokescreen was surely an exceptional cadet to warrant the rank of bodyguard to Alpha Trion. And, although the two are as different as night and day, Ratchet has steadily become aware of the shared stubbornness between his old friend and the future Prime. How neither of them can stand letting an injustice happen to a friend, and how they both take the responsibility of a wrong, with Optimus and Smokescreen each possessing the habit of taking even more of the blame than is called for.

Ratchet says nothing terse, barely anything. He refuses to treat Smokescreen with anything that could come across as reverence, for Bulkhead and Bumblebee's new behaviors are already disturbing him, no matter the well-meaning behind them.

But, he can soften his temper. And, in the late night, offer him some consolation over his future duties.

Ratchet's acted as a source of relief for one Prime. He can do the same for the one who comes after his friend.

Ultra Magnus

Ultra Magnus knows better than to question the Matrix of Leadership, or Optimus' decisions. However, that doesn't stop his mind from questioning some of the recklessness he's seen attached to Smokescreen's file while on Earth.

That said, he has witnessed how certain aspects of Smokescreen's... adaptability, has proven useful on the battlefield. Moreover, the Elite Guardsman has an impressive record on both worlds, even though it is marked with breaks of protocol and regulation.

As much as it pains him to admit it, Ultra Magnus knows that such behavior can be beneficial to an army. Perhaps even to an entire race.

Therefore, Ultra Magnus feels it is his duty to attempt to guide Smokescreen's path. Their differing approaches will inevitably lead to Magnus having to stand back and allow Optimus to advise him, but if Smokescreen needs anything, Magnus will be the first to come to his future Prime's aid.

Wheeljack

On the one hand, Wheeljack's impressed. Kid must have potential to be tapped like that.

On the other, he's glad Smokescreen missed out. Otherwise, he'd have been boring by the time Wheeljack got to know him.

In all seriousness though, Wheeljack can't help but be proud of Smokescreen. He's not showy about it, but the kid's earned his place as an Autobot, an Elite Guardsman, and even as an honorary Wrecker in his optics. Getting a record like that in such a short span of time is no easy feat.

By chance or deliberation, Wheeljack becomes the second Autobot to treat him for who he is and what he can be. If the others begin getting sharp with Smokey or frustrated by him, Wheeljack's the first to fire off a casual yet pointed comment that reminds the others of Smokescreen's place among them. If it gets really tense, he borderline leaps to his defense by pointing out sarcastically, "I don't see you treating Prime that way. What makes his successor any different?"

The nonchalant, yet loyal attitude Wheeljack displays more than endears him to Smokescreen, and in short order the future Prime sees him as a second or third mentor.

Wheeljack would joke about the wisdom of that decision, but somebody's gotta look after the kid and treat him normally. May as well be him.

And somehow, it all feels right.

For @kzele - I hope I delivered!

[aurae-rori]

DR RATIO ANALYSIS: PART 2, ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

SPOILERS FOR 2.1 CONTENT.

Now, you might be saying - "Aurae, you already did one, why do you need a second?" And my answer is, "LORD, I FORGOT TO TALK ABOUT HOW HIS DEFINITION OF 'IDIOT' IS DIFFERENT. AND ALSO HE DOES NOT HATE AVENTURINE NOR DOES HE THINK AVENTURINE IS STUPID." Once again, here is my disclaimer - although I have been researching psychology for a solid six years, I am NOT a professional. (I will be, one day. Just you wait, just youuuu wait-) So understand that everything I say has been analyzed with personal judgement, with my own conclusions, come to with logic and my personal interpretation. This is just what I have concluded, and you are always free to disagree.

This is my legacy. To be an analyzer. So let's go.

Okay, now that my disclaimer is over, let's take off Ratio's plaster head and chuck it into the sea, and see - what does he mean by 'idiot'?

This will be much shorter than my last, so don't worry - I will not be flashbanging you with another 4k words. This is more like a follow up, than anything else, because there's a few things I wish to touch on.

Dr. Ratio doesn't hate idiots in the sense that he hates people that have 'low IQ' or are 'stupid' in terms of being 'slow to understand'. I definitely touched on this in my last analysis, but he hates people who take their education for granted and don't go places with the gifts that they've been given. He hates "idiots" - "narrow minded" people who have the capabilities to do more and perceive more than they choose to do. People who deliberately look away or take what they know and what they could do for granted. He wants to open people's eyes and allow them to see life from multiple different angles and he believes that everyone should have a chance to learn - with the whole "knowledge for everyone" thing he's got rolling.

He wears a plaster head around people he doesn't seem to know too well in order to think more, or so that he doesn't have to see the faces of the people he dislikes. Pretty good roast. However, he does NOT wear that plaster head around Aventurine. Let's listen to the doctor's judgement - Aventurine is far from stupid. Although he likes to chalk up a lot of the things he does to his own luck, he is an INCREDIBLY capable individual who's managed to get this far because of his own form of genius. He's a man who relies on chance and good fortune, yes, but his charm, his way of scheming, and the way that he's good with people? That's skill. A talent he doesn't take for granted. Dr. Ratio respects him for this - because despite the fact that he has no proper education, he has his eyes wide open to the world and doesn't take shit for granted. He learns what he can in order to survive and he does it fucking well - Aventurine is a very smart man. He's observant, quick on his feet, and great at going with the flow and thinking in the moment.

Aventio aside, I actually believe that Dr. Ratio would be a really good teacher to those who struggle. He's patient where it's needed to be, even if he's got a quick temper, and I believe in his pursuit for knowledge he would do his best to go out of his way to find strategies that would work for their individuals. We're all unique, and he's aware of this - and because he wants to allow people to think for themselves, whatever helps the individual works. Depression? He's got a psych degree, I'm sure bro could give you some strategies. Autism? He has a touch of the 'tism himself. ADHD, and not feeling organized? Bro will help you. It's canon that he's a great fucking teacher - those who finish his classes go on to become successful people who are intelligent and critical thinkers. Round of applause for Ratio, the man that kins my father. He's shit at emotions, but great at knowledge.

Also, on that note, I believe that he would most likely hate parents that push thier "gifted" students to the limit without any compassion for the person that they really are. He's most definitely got some of that academic trauma so I believe that bro holds a secret disdain for parents who just use their children to gain more recgonition. Well, not so secret. He'd cuss them out. (Ratio please cuss out the horrible parents.)

Dr. Ratio, the Teacher ever. (Hey, maybe he'd get along with Kunikida...)

Also, I am definitely planning on making a fic where he teaches Aventurine Latin. As long as you're eager to learn and willing to look past the chalk being thrown, he's got a place for you.

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk. I did not read this through, so this is not edited. Take my unedited rambles.

[imadeitworseyourwelcome]

TFP Predacon Smokescreen AU

Part 3 - Rookie Mistakes

Over the next few days, Smokescreen did his best to keep his head down, while simultaneously observing the autobots. And trying not to let his anxiousness show.

He knew being here, among these bots, was risky. He had no doubt they'd turn on him if they discovered the truth. With that in mind, he assessed the team.

Optimus Prime was obviously the most dangerous. Aside from the fact he was a Prime- being the team leader meant he had complete sway over the team.

The medic was in relatively high standing, and close to the Prime. If he had to assign one of the team members as 'second in command', it would be them. Even though most of the time it appeared they were engrossed with work at the base computer, they managed to be aware of all the base happenings.

Aside from them, it wasn't really clear how the others ranked. It almost seemed to shuffle with each mission, playing to everyone's strengths.

A smart tactic, but really annoying when you're trying to figure out the pecking order.

Another thing he had to consider was the native lifeforms of earth, the humans. The autobots were extremely protective of them. Bulkhead, Arcee and Bumblebee each had a human partner who was practically by their side at all times. There was also Agent Fowler, but he didn't seem to hang around with the autobots like the kids did, as he had yet to formally meet them.

Two of the humans were currently in the base's loft. Jack was sitting on the couch, while Miko was practically leaning over the railing, trying to give Bulkhead encouragement.

"Bulk, you have to get yourself out of this funk!"

Bulkhead let out a defeated groan, "What's the use?"

Smokescreen didn't know the details, but it appeared that the large green bot had been injured on a recent mission- and he was clearly taking it pretty hard.

Smokescreen had to acknowledge how much the autobots cared about their injured team member. They wouldn't let Bulkhead do, well, anything, until he was fully healed.

But because of that, Smokescreen knew the least about Bulkhead, combat or otherwise.

"You need to regain your strength," the medic insisted, "the time will come when-"

Bulkhead angrily cut him off, "When what? When all of you will need an assist?? Isn't that what the new guy's for?!"

Smokescreen took that as his chance to interject. He had managed to convince them to use the phase shifter, perhaps it's time to dust off more of these relics and put them to good use.

"Hey Bulkhead! I've been thinking," Smokescreen  began as he approached, "With your injury and all, you might want to take advantage of the armor I snagged from Starscream."

He made a point to use the decepticon's name, he was relieved the human hadn't yet brought up his slip up. He'd have to be more careful going forward.

He extended the relic towards Bulkhead, "Instant muscle suit!"

With the extra strength it had granted the flier, no doubt it could offer support to their injured leg, which would then allow him to participate in the field. Helping Bulkhead would gain his favor, and help further improve his standing among the autobots.

But instead, Bulkhead's face twisted in anger, causing Smokescreen to flinch.

"You think I need a crutch?!" He yelled as he transformed out his melee weapon.

Smokescreen's door wings went rigid, he hadn't expected his suggestion to upset Bulkhead. But now, it looked like he wanted to attack him.

Smokescreen instinctively braced as Bulkhead raised his arm. It looked like he was going to attack him-

But instead of striking Smokescreen, he struck the compressed armor out of his hands, sending it careening into a monitor. The screen short curcuited and sparked letting out a pitiful series of beeps as it went offline.

"Bulkhead I needed that!!" Ratchet snapped angrily.

Bulkhead only made some annoyed grumbles in response as he walked away shoving past Smokescreen, "Outta my way rookie."

Smokescreen bristled against the touch of their weapon, squashing a growl before it could climb his throat.

Sharply reminding himself that it would be best to pretend to be vechiformer.. especially since the only beastformer he'd seen was being stored next to the relics. And he wasn't keen on joining them.

Bulkhead stomped his way across the base, continuing to grumble. Finally he picked up a ball of scrap metal and began to do some exercises.

Smokescreen let out a sigh of relief, as they seemed to be focusing their anger into their recovery.

"Looks like he's fit for duty to me!" Smokescreen announced with a flick of his doorwings, forcing them into a relaxed position.

Ratchet muttered and rolled his eyes, clearly disagreeing with Smokescreen's assessment.

Miko however, gave Smokescreen a thumbs up from her perch in the loft.

He offered Miko a smile, glad they acknowledged his efforts for their friend. Perhaps gaining the humans' trust first would be an easier place to start-

"Whoa Smoke- you've got quite the set of chompers!" Miko exclaimed as she once again leaned over the railing.

Smokescreen instinctivley slapped a hand over his mouth. He had hoped not to draw attention to his sharp canines. Not all of his teeth were pointed, but among the autobots they might as well be.

Miko was clearly taken aback by his reaction, before realization crossed her face.

"Oh- I didn't realize you were self-conscious, I mean-" she fumbled her apology, instead switching to try and reassure him, "I think it's cool-!"

"No, it's fine.. Just ..Not many autobots have sharp teeth," he admitted quietly.

Smokescreen had to admit, it was wishful thinking that they hadn't noticed something so obvious. He just hoped they wouldn't pick up on anything else...

"Twenty-five percent of cybertronians have sharp teeth." Ratchet stated bluntly without looking away from the computer, "Though the statistic doesn't hold up now, as it's uncertain how many cybertronians are even left."

"You've gotta be kidding Raf- you of all people grounded?" Jack exclaimed in disbelief from his seat on the couch

"Translation, he got an A-minus instead of A," Miko shrugged.

"Grounded?" Smokscreen quuetly echoed in confusion.  Was the human term 'grounded' as literal as it sounded..? After all, humans didn't look like they were capable of flight...

"Until I can get these grades up, I'm off team prime," Raf regrettably informed them.

The explanation left him just as confused as before he had asked.

Raf not being at base worked in Smokescreen's favour- as it was one less set of eyes on him. But he couldn't help but feel bad for them.

Being grounded.. was usually a death sentence, at least in the wilds. But from how unbothered the other humans reacted, it mustn't be as harsh here on earth.

.

.

.

Smokescreen quickly got assigned busy work. He stacked empty energon cubes in silence, taking the chance to try to sort out the situation he had found himself in.

He had made it to Earth with minimal issues.. but he wasn't sure what he should do next.

He had heard rumors of Earth, supposedly it was one of the planets predacons fled to, to escape the extermination at the hand of the primes.

A planet so deep into Unicron's territory no cybertronian would ever dare venture to- or so they had thought.

The fact that these bots were even here was worrying, had they chased the predacons all the way here? Were there any still hiding on this planet, or had they been forced to flee again?

The old bot had instructed him to tell the truth, that these autobots would not hurt him- that they would help him... But, he couldn't believe that. He wasn't going to just tell them he was a predacon- not with a prime among them. Smokescreen shuddered, him finding out was a garenteed death sentence.

The key that thanks to to modelock was stuck in his subspace. The only way for him to access it would be for the autobots to remove his modelock. Currently, he didn't see an outcome where he made it out in one piece..

Of course he wanted the mode lock removed, but he didn't trust these bots- despite the old mech's promises, he couldn't be sure they wouldn't just kill him to get the relic.

Even so, he would remain here for now, playing the loyal autobot soilder. At least until a better outcome presented itself.

.

.

.

A raised voice annouced the arrival of Agent Fowler. Smokescreen made his way to the base's main area, joining the gathering autobots.

He wasn't sure if it was his lack of time with bots who weren't predacons, or his limited time on Earth with the humans- but alot of Fowler's info packed rant was going over his head.

From what he could decifer- the decepticons gotten their hands on a weapon. A satellite that shot lasers.

Though he was baffled why the humans had decided to invent such a weapon. He had to admit, sometimes the humans scared him. If the primes had created a weapon like that during the extermination... well, he doubted he'd be standing here to think about it.

Optimus Prime quickly gathered a team for the mission. Bumblebee, Arcee, the Prime and himself would be going to prevent the decepticons from gaining control of the weapon.

Ratchet activated the ground bridge for the team. Smokescreen tried his best not to react to the sudden rush of smells, opting to hold his breath as he followed the autobots through the portal. Just one more thing he had to get used to.

Smokescreen eagerly accepted his role. He hoped to stay on the autobots good side, at least until he figured out what he was going to do next. He decided to focus on the mission for now, rather than get caught up in his own thoughts again.

As soon as they stepped out, they were forced to scatter as blaster bolts whizzed past them. They quickly found cover behind some rocks.

"The decepticons have proceeded us," Optimus announced as he transformed his hand into a gun, "We must secure the command center."

Optimus abandoned their cover, returning fire as he advanced.

Smokescreen followed, he didn't want to risk transforming out his guns with the others so closeby, in case he couldn't. He knew he'd never be able to talk his way out of their questions.

Instead he took advantage of his the autobots' cover fire and rushed forward through a break in the enemy's forces. The vechicons swiveled to face him, leaving him surrounded.

He dodged their punch and grabbed their arm, quickly twisting it as he kicked out their legs causing the metal to twist and break as they crumpled to the ground.

Perfect. Smokescreen barred his teeth, he swatted the closest gun to the side as they attempted to fire at him.

He turned to the next one, then the next one. Efficiently taking down each vechicon. He wasn't sure where he had learned to fight like this... but he knew he was an expert at close combat.

One of the decepticons tackled him, sending them both tumbling through the dirt. Pain shot through his doorwings as they scrapped against the ground, he grappled and twisted. As their momentum slowed Smokescreen ended their roll by slamming the vechicon into the ground, pinning it beneath him.

He punched their helm and face, quick solid strikes. He missed his claws... he missed his fire.

He snapped his head upwards, to find a beam of light decending straight towards him. He barely had time to scramble out of the way, before the beam struck ground.

The ground around him suddenly grew brighter. He paused, the air felt different. Almost like it was charged with static, and getting warmer.

As quick as it appeared it was gone. Leaving a small crater filled with the charred, twisted remains of the vechicon. Smokescreen grimaced, he wasn't keen on seeing if his plating would hold up any better.

"Fall back!" Optimus ordered urgently. The light followed close on their heels, chasing their retreat. Optimus called the base, "Ratchet we require backup,"

The sky lit up again, this time when the beam struck the earth it moved, slowly dragging its destruction towards the autobots.

Smokescreen was too busy dodging the barrage of fire from the vechicons and sky to pay attention to the further chatter over the commlink.

The only thing bringing in backup would do was give the decepticons at most two more targets. Which wasn't exactly going to change their predicament.

No matter what they tried, whenever the autobots gained any ground towards the command center, they were immediately forced back by the laser.

Smokescreen darted towards and opening in the decepticons ranks, perhaps if he stayed in closer to their foes they wouldn't fire at him.

That thought was immedeatley disproven as the beam almost hit him, only barely managing to leapt out of the way in time. It appeared they had no qualms with friendly fire.

"Autobots, we must draw its fire to distract from Rafael's efforts." Optimus Prime ordered.

Smokescreen had no clue how the human was going to help, but he wasn't in a position to question it. Each time the Damocles fired, it got closer and closer to hitting one of them.

"Somehow I don't think that'll be a problem," Arcee said as she jumped and transformed, quickly swerving away from the beam. The others followed suit, opting to drive rather than run from the laser.

That left only Smokescreen on foot, lagging behind the group. Any easy target.

-he wasn't fast enough . . .

Smokescreen yelped as the staticy memory fail to form, only able recall the panic that gripped his spark.

"Smokescreen transform! You'll be faster on wheels-!" Arcee urged over the roar of her engine.

"That'd help, now wouldn't it," Smokescreen muttered under his breath as he pushed himself to run faster, the light hot on his heels was more than enough motivation.

He wished more than anything that he could transform right now... to use his agile wings to out maneuver the weapon's rays. Sadly running was going to have to cut it for now.

He wove around the crators and ducked shots from the decepticons.

Whoever was firing the damocles was either getting better at using it, or had singled out Smokescreen as the easiest target. It felt like every other shot was being aimed at him.

At least their distraction plan seemed to be working.

If you could call running for your life a plan.

Smokescreen was forced to skid to a halt as once again the laser fell from the sky, dragging a line of destruction towards him. He pivoted and ran, it was close. Too close.

He didn't have enough space to be weaving back and forth to try and lose it. The ominous rumble of the ground being torn up behind him was closing in on his heels.

A lucky shot from a vechicon clipped his knee, sending him tumbling to the ground. He didn't dare look back as he forced himself back to his feet, the blaster bolt hadn't penitrated his armor but the shot still managed to trip him up.

The prickling sensation across his door wings told him that the ray was far too close for comfort.

He was so focused on evading the beam chasing him, on running faster- that he was completely caught off guard by Optimus's alt mode slamming into his side. Knocking the wind out of him and sending him sprawling to the ground.

He quickly righted himself doorwings flared, to face the Prime, to figure out what had prompted their aggression-

But halted as he abruptly realized it hadn't been an attack. The Prime had pushed him out of the way, risking his life to save his own.

Autobot loyalty sure wasn't something to sneeze at. As tight knit as a pack... And as long as he kept his cover, they would have his back.

"Smokescreen, are you alright?" Optimus inquired. Smokescreen didn't realize a truck could look concerned.

"Yeah," he gasped, trying to catch his breath, "I could do this all day."

Despite his attempt to put on a brave face, the Prime clearly wasn't fooled.

"No need, I fear that Bulkhead requires immedeate backup."

Smokescreen couldn't help but think the Prime was just getting him out of the way, being stuck in his bot mode made him the easiest target.

But he didn't argue. Instead Smokescreen nodded, accepting the new task, "On it,"

As he made his way off the battlefield he heard the soft ping of coordinates being received.

He didn't bother opening it. He wasn't overly familiar with using coordinates, even less so on this planet. Instead he opted to track the wrecker by scent, after all, there was only so many cybertronians on Earth.

He followed Bulkhead's trail to a human neighborhood, their scent lead through it, but Smokescreen went around. Sticking to the shadows to stay out of sight, it was a task he was more than familiar with.

The grass and dirt qucikly turned back to concrete as the echos of metal striking metal grew louder and louder, paired with raised voices.

He didn't slow down as the cement switched from flat to a steep angle.

Ahead of him, down the incline Bulkhead was laying on the ground. An unfamiliar bot towering menacingly over him, preparing for another strike.

Smokescreen transformed out his gun- or tried to. A sharp tug from under his plating stalled the transformation, leaving his arm plating at odd angles, half transformed.

He pushed through the strange feeling and continued to charge Bulkhead's attacker, sending them crashing to the ground several feet away.

Bulkhead looked up to him with surprise. Smokescreen held his half transformed arm behind his back, hoping they wouldn't notice.

He banging his free hand on his chest, a masked attempt to dislodge the modelocks cables, before he offered Bulkhead his hand, "Assist, what the new guy's for," he smiled, pulling Bulkhead back to his feet.

They both turned to face their foe,

"One new guy to another," the strange mech tilted their head from one side to another as they spoke, neck cables creaking, making noises no healthy bot should. Their cracked faceplate almost seemed to move delayed to their words, "this is your final day on the job,"

The bot set Smokescreen on edge. Something was wrong.. the bot looked wrong... they smelled dead- dead like they had been left to rot.

He didn't have time to dwell on it, as the strange bot let out a rattley yell and charged the duo.

Smokescreen and Bulkhead jumped back, sidestepping the attack. Causing Cylas to end up between them.

His first instinct was that they were split up by their attacker, before he realized- no, they were surrounding him.

Bulkhead landed a punch that sent them stumbling backwards right into a kick from Smokescreen. Cylas responded by whipping around, leading with their hammer.

Smokescreen raised his arm to block- the strike made contact with his half transformed arm, sending a shock of pain throughout his entire frame. Smokescreen cried out as he skidded backwards from the force, gripping his arm.

He quickly jerked his hand back as peices rolled, finally completed its delayed transformation.

He shook his head as he ducked another strike. He didn't need a gun right now. If he missed the shot, he'd end up hitting Bulkhead. He needed his hand. Instinctively he tried to switch it back, but swore under his breath as his arm plates got stuck again.

He rammed his shoulder into Cylas, he didn't have time for this.

Bulkhead took another turn exchanging blows as Smokescreen tried his best to quickly pry at his plating to force it back into place.

Cylas immedeately noticed that Smokescreen's focus wasn't fully on the fight and switched his attention back to him, swinging their hammer in wide arcs towards him.

Smokescreen jumped backwards out of reach, and then back again, before gritting his teeth and slamming his half-transformed arm across their face. Metal splintered and bent, digging into Cylas' faceplate, as well as back into his own arm.

As soon as Bulkhead saw energon trickling down Smokescreen's arm, he jumped forward drawing Cylas' attention back to him. The wrecker finally landed a series of strikes that left Cylas on the ground.

Smokescreen picked up on the faint crackle of Cylas' commlink activating, and soon after a groundbrige formed nearby.

Cylas scrambled to his feet, firing a rocket at them as a final attack to cover his retreat. They both dove out of the way. As the dust cleared they saw him fleeing through the bridge.

Smokescreen caught a glow coming from the sky out of the corner of his eye. He turned, expecting the damocles to be firing upon them.

But instead, he saw streaks of fire falling down, breaking apart more and more until they fizzled out.

Fading into the dark sky...

It felt like something was gripping his spark, dizziness pulling at his processor... he was forgetting something. Something important...

Then Bulkhead spoke- snapping him back to reality,

"Looks like someone's big plan just burned up in re-entry," Bulkhead chuckled and he raised a hand for a high five, which Smokescreen accepted. Forgetting his arm's dull ache until they made contact. He winced as a few drops on energon flicking off his plating.

"You alright?" Bulkhead asked, trying to take a look at his arm.

But Smokescreen quickly snatched it away, "Just a scratch." He assured, "Besides, anyone who's rolling with a wrecker has to be tough, right?"

Bulkhead let out a hearty laugh, "There's hope for you yet, newbie."

.

.

.

Bulkhead drove ahead, his injury still made walking long distances difficult for him. He had expected Smokescreen to join him, but didn't press when Smokescreen urged him to go on ahead, and that he would see him back at base.

Smokescreen walked slowly, the darkened desert was so peaceful. His eyes had already adjusted to the dim light and he could see the many night critters beginning to emerge.

This planet still managed to surprise him with the variety of life thrived here.

It did worry him that he was yet to see any sign of predacons. He didn't know how long he had been in stasis, between the escape pod and his time in library storage... Primus knows how much time had passed.

He tried to stay positive, if they had been living on Earth for so long, the predacons must have perfected staying out of sight.

He felt the now familiar feeling of a foggy memory forming just of out reach...

But this one flashed before his eyes, cutting sharply through the static.

He was crouched low, stalking through dense cybertronian foliage. He could hear someone else nearby, echoing his movements, following his lead-

He blinked and it faded again, but it wasn't gone. He remembered. And now that now he could recall it, he couldn't believe he'd ever have forgotten.

Hunting in the wilds of Cybertron with his pack.

But.. what did they look like? What was their names? How much more he was forgetting? Would it come back to him in time? Or would he only ever recall fragments of his past..?

Still, the memory warmed his spark. He decided not to focus on the uncertainty, rather the hope it presented.

However, his elevated mood was short lived, as Arcee confronted him as soon as he walked through the base door.

"Did you walk all the way back?" She crossed her arms and scolded, "Someone could have seen you,"

"I was careful-" he defended, his own words echoed in his mind, but in someone else's voice... he shook his head, trying to focus on the present instead of the fragemented past. "Besides, I thought maybe I'd see something I could scan-"

"You still don't have an alt mode?" She asked in disbelief, "Is that why you were a sitting duck out there??"

"Well, I.. " he began, trying to figure out how to spin another excuse. Before he let out a defeated sigh, he had to take some responsibility- he had slowed the team down.

"First thing tomorrow I'll find my set of wheels, promise." He assured her.

It was a promise he knew wouldn't be able to keep, another lie that would only delay the inevitable...

Arcee looked like she had more to say, but Ratchet's gruff voice addressed him from across the room, interrupting before she could continue. "Smokescreen,"

Great, what else had he done that warranted scolding? Smokescreen slowly made his way over to the autobot medic.

"Bulkhead informed me you sustained an injury," Ratchet continued as soon as he didn't have to yell.

"Oh- yeah, it's just a scratch- no big deal." He tried to brush him off, but the old medic wasn't giving up that easily.

"I'll be the judge of that. Small injuries can turn into bigger problems if left untreated." Ratchet insisted.

Reluctantly, Smokescreen followed Ratchet to the autobot's med bay. He hadn't actually been in any form of clinic before, any injuries sustained by him or his pack had always just healed with time.

The area smelled strongly of disinfectant, so much so that it immediately gave him a headache. Even though it looked a bit cobbled together, every surface was meticulously scrubbed clean and organized.

Smokescreen hesitantly held out his arm for Ratchet to inspect. Eyeing their movements with suspicion. He didn't want the medic so close, injury or not. They were the most likely out of the team to notice Smokescreen's differences.

"How did this happen?" Ratchet inquired with a frown.

"I... hit the guy when my arm was still transforming." Smokescreen thought quickly, so his explanation wasn't too far from the truth.

If he sustained anymore injuries like this in the future, he'd have to figure out more lies...

Ratchet muttered disaprovingly as he quickly cleaned the wound. "Don't go pulling stupid stunts like that again, you hear?" Ratchet warned, as he retrieved a faintly glowing cube and held it out to Smokescreen, "Here, you need to get back what you spilled."

"Oh, I'm actually alright-" He tried, but Ratchet just gave him a stern look and pushed the cube into his hands.

"Doctor's orders," he insisted.

Smokescreen finally accepted the cube and slipped away, down the hallway and away from the base's main area.

He shifted the foreign object around in his hands.

Smokescreen hadn't actually drank from an energon cube before. He did drink energon, but never from a cube. Predacons hunted creatures like scraplets and sparkeaters, eating their metal and drinking their energon. He didn't want anyone to see him struggling with something they would consider an everyday task.

Once he was satisfied with being out of sight, he inspected the cube. There was a solid layer of blue enclosing the familiar blue liquid.

Did he have to bite through the outer shell, like eating a scraplet?

He hooked his fang over a corner and chewed at it, but it was an awkward angle... and the rest of the bots didn't have sharp teeth like he did. This was completely impractical-

He was interupted by a quizzical chirp.

Smokescreen jumped, he had been so focused on the energon cube that he had failed to notice Bumblebee walk down the hallway.

"Uh-! I'm fine, just hungry. Heh," he laughed uncomfortably.

Bumblebee gave him a curious side eye as he took a sip from his own cube.

Smokescreen watched him, then mimicked his movements. Raising the cube to his mouth, he was still wasn't getting any energon, clearly he was missing something...

Bumblebee reached over and gently bumped Smokescreen's cube, finally tipping it enough for him to get a drink. Smokescreen coughed a bit at the sudden rush of liquid.

Bee whirred, trying to assure him,

"You should see how some of the others get when they're hungry. The humans have a term that sums it up perfecrly- hangry ."

Bumblebee let out a few chrips that Smokescreen assumed to be laughter.

Smokescreen mumbled trying to hide his embarrassment, before continuing to drink from his cube.

Bumblebee made a soft trilling noise, before walking back down the hallway to the main base area.

As soon as they were out of earshot Smokescreen let out a groan and dragged a hand down his face. His web of excuses and lies needed alot of work.. and it just kept growing. He knew that sooner or later his story would fall apart, and he was going to be found out.

[everlasting-rainfall]

-Most Terrifying Yandere in One Piece-

Okay so I just had a thought of who the most terrifying Yandere in One Piece would be as yes, Luffy is someone who would probably rip the entire world apart just to get his hands on you but it ain’t him in my personal opinion

Sanji would crack the skull of any man who tried to speak to you and Zoro is so intimidating that no one would probably even dare try to speak to you

Boa would trap you with her without you even knowing that you’re trapped and if you ever do then you won’t be able to do anything about it, Robin knows exactly how to hurt you and exactly what to say in order to keep you from leaving her side

Akainu could have an “Only Alive” bounty placed on your head if you ever managed to escape him, Garp would chase you to the ends of the earth until he had you again

Kaido would keep you locked up in Onigashima in a place where only he would only be able to access you to ensure that he’s the only one that can see you, Big Mom would have you dragged off to Tottoland by her many sons and daughters in order to attend your wedding with her

But I gotta say that I don’t think any of them would be the most terrifying Yandere in One Piece and keep in mind that this is just personal opinion… But you know who would be?

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

Kidnapping, No Hope, Total Island Destruction, Uncomfortable Situations, Attempted Murder, Starvation, Imprisonment, Mind Break

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

!-MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE MANGA AND MOST RECENT EPISODES OF ONE PIECE-!

!-BEWARE SPOILERS-!

That would be this fucker right here in my personal opinion… Imu…

Why? Well I’d like you to think about this as Imu is someone that little to no one knows exists and no one even knows what Imu even looks like to begin with so let’s say that somehow you did manage to escape Imu’s grasp

You can’t tell anyone who had you… No one would know who you’re talking about and now that person you just told? They’re going to face an imminent death…

We all saw what happened on Lulusia too, all that just to kill Sabo who saw Imu if I’m right. An entire country wiped from history so if you told that person about Imu then you just potentially wiped that island out…

Granted Imu might leave you unharmed like they won’t kill you but there’s a good chance that when you’re brought back to them, it will be with your ability to walk or even stand removed so now you’re stuck with this person… Assuming Imu is a person, that is…

Plus I don’t think that Imu would even reveal their appearance to you for a good long while so imagine sitting down for a meal with this person covered head to toe in black, they stare at you with these unblinking red eyes anytime that you make a sound

If there was any way to lose your appetite, it would probably be from the sheer uncomfortable feelings brought on by Imu’s staring… I don’t think that they would even speak to you for a while after being captured so you’re just living with someone whose dead silent and won’t stop staring at you…

Also that brings up the case of imagine catching the attention of Imu like maybe you were one of the few people unlucky enough to be able to approach Imu but how much more terrifying would it be if you were just some civilian?

Who knows how they found out about you but once they decide that they want you, you’re being seemingly arrested out of the blue like you’ve done the worst crime imaginable if you aren’t just straight up kidnapped

Then you’re brought before this person who you’re absolutely terrified of and have absolutely no clue what they want from you only to be left alone with them because this is home now

Fucking horrifying if you ask me…

You can’t even hope at killing Imu either as even if they have no fighting skills, you’d probably have to get insanely lucky in trying to kill them like I’m talking winning the lottery eight times in a row on the same day then seeing like a quadruple rainbow on your way home only to find that every problem with your home miraculously fixed itself kind of lucky…

So let’s say that you did achieve that kind of luck and managed to sneak up and seemingly kill Imu in order to hopefully return to your life before all of this occurred, it seems like you might be home free and escape is so close within your grasp…

But let’s not forget about something…

And knowing that the Gorosei’s devil fruit forms can regenerate from seemingly just about anything, I’d assume that Imu can do it as well so they’re pissed that you tried to kill them after how kindly that they’ve treated you

So as you’re running, you’ll likely look back and see whatever this is chasing after you until it grabs you in a grip that feels like it’s trying to crush you as they drag you back where you belong

If you make Imu mad then they likely aren’t going to treat you with kindness like I can honestly see them depriving you of food and locking you up until you’ve learnt your lesson, Imu wouldn’t kill you and wouldn’t allow anyone to lay a finger on you to harm you

But by the end, you’ll be wishing that you were dead and no matter how much you might scream that you’ve learnt your lesson… Imu will leave you there until they know that you have only coming to you to give you just enough food and water to where you’ll survive…

Once Imu is sure that you’ve learnt your lesson and will never try anything like that again, that is when you’ll finally be freed from your prison and actually start to be treated with gentleness and kindness as well

Imu might even test how your time locked up affected as you as they’ll caress you and if you lean into it then they’ll kiss you… And if you return it? That’s probably the first time that you’ll hear their voice speaking the word “Good”

They’ll be gentle with you as they wash your body and take care of you until you’re all better but don’t think for a second that Imu won’t shove you back into your prison if it’s needed…

Now this isn’t to say that any other One Piece character isn’t absolutely terrifying as everyone is absolutely horrifying like hell… Luffy is absolutely horrifying because of Gear 5…

This is just my personal opinion on who I think is the scariest… And it’s Imu without a doubt for me…

[charlie-rulerofhell]

Of Hogs and Horses

a little gift to @bad-system, i suppose. and to everyone else who cannot stand Henry's plant-nerd personality getting ignored any longer.

ao3 link

For a while, Henry stood in silence and admired her. He felt that he truly could not have been luckier. Just to be in her presence alone, to have been granted the chance to lay eyes on her. To touch and smell, and feel her even. Cautiously, of course, with his fingers covered decently by gloves, he would not want to get ahead of himself. To marvel at her unique beauty, her liveliness and elegance, the form of her long, slender body, her arms so carelessly stretched out in what seemed to be a sheer act of rebellion, her face so full and white. Such angelic grace, such godlike … Well, now that might be going a tiny bit too far.

Besides, if one had listened to his thoughts right now, they might mistake them for the adoration of a lover, when that was only part of the truth. No, way more than a lover, Henry felt like a mother. He had born her. Had been offered her seeds, harboured her in the safety of his womb, nourished her and now he could finally see her bloom.

Henry took a step back and smiled so broadly it almost hurt. A robin in the trees above his head, clearly unimpressed by his motherly feelings, decided to reinforce its ignorance by taking an extensive shit. Right on top of his beautiful creation.

“Oy!” he shouted up to the bird, wagging his fist. “Who do you think you are?” And when he walked over to his child again to check for any damages on her fragile head, he added: “This is an envoy from a distant realm, you hear me? I was a stranger and you invited me in. She's not so different to … Nah, I shouldn't say that, now, should I?”

It was true though. Not the Christ part, some might consider those ideas the roots of blasphemy, but Henry did not under­stand enough about church doctrines to judge that, nor did he care to know. But she was a stranger here, a traveller one could say, even when she had not travelled on her own feet.

Henry had just wanted to return from a visit to his brother, when he had run into his sweetheart's travelling companion, purely by chance, or by accident really, that hit the nail better on the head, but not quite perfectly. Blasius de Petragna had been standing in the middle of Kolin's main market square. With his hands on a horse's arse.

“He,” Henry had greeted him, looking down with slight amusement from Pebbles's back. “Good to see that you've fi­nally got off your high horse.”

Blasius had rolled his glinting amber eyes at him. “It limps.”

“Looks more like it refuses.”

“Well, it had limped for a little while. But then it decided to capitulate for good.”

“Ah, I see. You backed the wrong horse then.”

Blasius's eyes had become a little narrower still, and his voice had been heavy with growing annoyance. “Your taunt is really not of any help here, Henry. I need to get this beast to move.”

“But why though? The Jewish quarter is practically,” he had turned around, so he could make a well-founded assessment, “a few dozen steps away.”

“What, and you think I just walk by myself and leave it here? In the middle of the market?”

“Yes, sure.”

“On a market day? For someone to fine me for parking vio­lation?”

“So rather than paying a fee, you'd continue to beat a dead horse?”

“It's not dead y–” Blasius had stopped in the middle of the word, as he had noticed Henry's expression. “Ah, of course.” His face was as blank as the back of a monk's head. “Another one of your idiomata.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Then show me how sorry you truly are by helping me, good gracious!”

It had not taken long for Henry to accomplish what all of Blasius's pushing and cursing hadn't managed in almost half an hour, and all it had taken was an apple. As soon as he had held it in front of the horse's mouth, it had forgotten all about its pain and protest, and had followed him willingly, right through the gate of the Jewish quarter. Here, Henry had handed the apple over to the scholar, who clearly understood more about mapping and reading the stars than about animals. The rest he had to manage on his own, Henry had said. He had, after all, already paid his farewells to Sam rather extensively and fer­vently. Returning now was a little embarrassing, wasn't it? Al­most as embarrassing as saying goodbye and then walking off into the same direction. Though that was a whole different di­saster entirely.

Blasius had accepted his reasoning, and had assured that now that he knew the rather simple secret to a horse's heart, he would be able to guide it the last few steps. However, only be­cause the secret was simple, it did not mean that it hadn't come of great use. So, he had concluded, a gift for Henry's effort was due. And then he had opened his saddle bag, and had pulled out a smaller leather bag from it, and then an even smaller satchel from that still. “In here, my friend, you will find a little seed­ling. A giant hogweed, that's what the shepherds of the mon­tium Caucasi called it when they showed it to me. It's a beau­tiful plant once it's grown, but I did not take it with me for it's looks alone. It's a weapon, you see. A single touch of its blos­som, leaves or its fluids works like a burning lens. Once the affected area of skin is exposed to direct sunlight, it will deve­lop severe burns, even hours or days later. As if the devil him­self had made an imprint on your body. I wanted to share it with Samuel, but since I know that you have your way with plants and alchemy as well, you might have just as much use for it.” Blasius had reached him the satchel, pulling it back slightly, just before Henry could take it. “Remember, friend, to be cautious. It is highly poisonous.”

“Ah.” Henry had taken the bag and regarded Blasius de Pe­tragna with a way too satisfied grin. “Don't look a gift horse in­to the mouth, eh?”

That meeting in Kolín lay a few weeks back now. He had brought the seedling back home with greatest care and had planted it in the little herb garden he had built for himself. West of the city, right up the hill, close to where the gallows stood. Henry had claimed this spot about a year ago, as it provided everything he needed. Both the shadow of the trees and the warmth of the sun, since the area he had chosen was situated right on the edge of the forest. Solitude and seclusion, since all the talk about bad luck and damnation held most of the town's folk away. And a fertile ground, since … well, since apparently that was what even the most despicable criminal was good for, at least after his death.

Here, in the safety of the iron-enforced fence he had built around his garden, Henry had put the seedling into the ground. Just in front of the outer row of trees, next to the sage and rose­mary. He was not entirely sure whether that direct sunlight was what the hogweed needed, but he thought that if its effects were amplified by the sun, it might just as well flourish in it. Besides, the position would serve as a natural defence against any vile plant thieves. Should they try to take it, they would be standing right in the sun when they did so, and that would cost them greatly.

Henry, of course, took all the precautions needed. And now, that the plant, his beauty, his child, had finally grown big enough to develop her first white, slightly unpleasantly pun­gent smelling blossoms, he grabbed his thick, old leather gloves and cut off some leaves and a part of the flower with a sigh and a heavy heart. From the parts that had been hit by the bird shit, he kept away as far as he could. He could not tolerate any impurity. Not when he wanted to find out how poisonous this hogweed truly could become, when dissected, crushed, burned and drowned on his alchemy table.

Whatever poison came about under Henry's examination was never put to the test. A war happened, and then another one, and then the poison was all forgotten. On a strange and winding path, one single phial of the apparent poison made it to the Wartburg in the city of Eisenach, where a mysterious knight going by the name of Junker Jörg was working on a book he later published as the September Bible. What Jörg used the phial's content for, was to remain his secret. A serving wench later claimed she had once seen him pour it into his inkwell, before unabashedly adding his own bodily waters to it. A cook working at the castle at the very same time was certain Jörg must have just drunken it all, and then he had dreamed, oh how strangely Jörg had dreamed, and in his nightmarish fevers had thrown the inkwell at the wall, piss or not.

The giant hogweed at the edge of the forest right next to the Rattay gallows, where the ground was fertile from ash and rot­ting flesh, remained a secret as well, for many, many years. Around four centuries, that was. Only then, in the time of exu­berance and delusions of grandeur, did a travelling Frenchman, who did not care about damnation or the bad luck of the place – of course not, he was French after all – stumble across the beautiful, tall, elegant, white-headed child of a cartographer from Ragusa and a blacksmith from Skalitz. He took it home with him and planted it in his garden. Finding much joy in its impressive appearance, but swearing never to return to the Kingdom of Bohemia again, as the sun just burned differently there, judging by the vicious wounds on his skin. Just as much delight in the new addition to his pleasure garden did the Frenchman's friends take. And then their friends after that.

Just a few more years later, the hellish flower had spread over most of Europe, with the consequences still unknown to its admirers. Like a proper weapon, one might say. Or, as another man would call it, like a Trojan horse.

[tubbypeddle]

I don't know if you're still doing matchup trades, but I would love matchups from Parts 2, 5 and 6 of Jojo's. I will also totally do one for you to the best of my abilities if you want!

My Gender: Female, she/her

Personality: I'm generally a very calm, patient person, and I make an effort to not become angry or frustrated easily. I can come off as quiet, but warm up to people quickly and will talk and or listen to someone for hours. I generally try to be very attentive and supportive of the people I care for, and one of my biggest dreams is to be married one day, though I don't want children. I think a downside of my personality is that I can be a little insecure, and if I feel like someone doesn't like me or is annoyed at me I close myself off completely.

Hobbies: I am a huge classic literature fan, and read constantly, especially anything from the 1700's or 1800's, though I also particularly love Shakespeare. I'd say I always love a good story, no matter what medium it is in, and I love learning about history. I also really love to bake, though I'm not much of a cook.

Green Flag/Deal breaker: Unfortunately I have a thing for men older than me, especially if they're the fatherly or chivalrous type. I also like passionate, strong men who aren't afraid of speaking their mind or ideals. A deal breaker might be a guy who likes to "jokingly" insult or mess with their partner, especially insults or judgement. I know that's what some people like, but it's not for me.

Green Flag/Deal breaker: Unfortunately I have a thing for men older than me, especially if they're the fatherly or chivalrous type. I also like passionate, strong men who aren't afraid of speaking their mind or ideals. A deal breaker might be a guy who likes to "jokingly" insult or mess with their partner, especially insults or judgement. I know that's what some people like, but it's not for me.

Looks: As for looks I'd say I'd be considered generally attractive?I have very long, curly brown hair, brown eyes, and I'm narcissistically proud of my lips.

(Thanks in advance, 😘)

i got started on this as soon as i posted the other one!

sorry it's taking so long. you know busy schedules 🥲 I actually called off sick to finish this up LMAO

You've been training with Caesar under Master Lisa Lisa for years now. In fact, you showed up only months after Caesar did. Initially, she wouldn't have let you stay if you didn't earn your stay. But you managed to prove your worth to her eventually.

And Joseph was a reluctantly welcome addition to your little squad.

But it's not Joseph or Caesar that you fall for. They're not your type, and besides. They're more like annoying older brothers.

No, they're not the ones who catch your eye.

Instead it's one

Ultimate Being Kars

At first, he doesn't even notice you. He normally doesn't pay any mind to mortals at all, much less ones that show no initial prowess at some sort of physical strength.

It's when he notices you with Joseph and Caesar that you manage to pique his interest.

He cares not for mortal attractiveness, but he does admit you're "easy on the eyes", as Joseph calls you.

He acknowledges Lisa Lisa's strength, and she doesn't take weak people under her care. So what are you doing with them?

You have yet to prove yourself the way Caesar and Joseph are so desperate to. Why did Lisa Lisa take you in? What do you have to offer that he hasn't seen yet?

And it's not because you're a woman who's hiding your strength. Women were very valuable and successful warriors from his time. It's something else.

He has not met any mortal who knew of his history. Granted, he's been trapped in stone far longer than he would've had any chance to meet a mortal who would've known anything about his race and culture.

But the fact that you did definitely threw him for a loop the first time.

And because of lovely timeline fuckery, Kars does not get shot into space because you deserve a happy ending with him.

Kars is not the type to insult his partners, jokingly or in any other way. If he insults you, it's not intentional. He doesn't even insult you in arguments.

Kars does not care for blabbering very much, but he finds he does not mind yours very much. His people weren't talkers. They preferred to show their affection through violence and aggression. Proving your worth as a Pillarmen came by eating your first human. Pillarmen like Kars did not talk with each other.

Even with his family, he did not really sit down and have conversations with them. Conversations weren't needed when battles to the death were all the contracts needed between siblings. Whoever lived to see another day won their argument.

And, hey, you said you liked older men. Try a man who's been alive since 5000 B.C.

And I can understand the appeal in older men. It's that experience that you don't have, leaving you feeling like you can follow his lead and you won't feel so lost.

And if anybody would have experience, it's Kars.

(Experience in every field, might I add.)

He's not so much "fatherly" as he is a guiding hand, though. He raised Santana and Wamuu, yes, but it wasn't very much of a father-son relationship.

Similar can be said about you two, thankfully. He is happy to take the leading role, to guide you when you want or need it. It almost feels professional how firm he is with you. But maybe you're into that.

And it does wonders for making you feel less insecure, too.

PDA is not something he enjoys. If he wants to show his affection to you, he'd rather do it in the privacy of your home. That isn't to say he's ashamed of his relationship with you, or keeps it hidden. He makes it a point to bring you up in almost every conversation he has with a stranger.

"My partner would love this", "I need to tell my partner about this", "My partner would hate this, I should tell her immediately". That's his preferred term for you.

You are his partner. Which is an important distinction, especially since he also calls you his lover sometimes.

He sees you as his equal, which is why he prefers to call you partner.

If you like passionate men, he is an ideal passionate man.

He's all about passion, ambition. He never sees a point in hiding his intents behind pretty words, so he can come off as blunt, too. He always speaks what's on his mind because what's the point in hiding it? You are his partner, he wants you to know every thought he has.

From the smallest things, like what he thinks he wants for lunch that day, all the way to big things like where he sees your future together headed and what he has planned for you two.

He hides nothing from you. He feels no need to. He expects you to show him your everything, too.

He adores your patience. It has made loving him a lot easier for you, too. As an ancient superhuman, he does not have the easiest time acclimating to modern times. (as modern as they can be in the 1940s)

Honorary mention!

Rudolf Von Stroheim

..You can understand why you're with Kars, and not this other passionate man.

=-=-=-=

That's enough of Battle Tendency, though.

If you were to find yourself in the throes of the Italian Mafia, you'd find yourself enthralled by none other than

Risotto Nero

You met him when he'd needed information for a hit. He'd gone to the Investigation squadron, of which you are a part of, and that's where he'd met you.

He was immediately entranced by you.

You were quiet, which isn't out of place for the Investigation Department. All of you had this job because of your aversion to combat.

But you were different from the rest of your team. In a way that Risotto couldn't quite explain.

When the two of you get together, it's kept a secret from the rest of Risotto's team at first. Call him possessive, but he wants you all to himself before his team eventually gets their hands on you, too.

This isn't to say that once the two of you reveal your relationship to his team that he's secretive. He doesn't want it kept a secret after revealing yourselves to his men. He wants people to know that he's yours. He likes people knowing that they can't have you, because you chose him over them.

Basically, he loves PDA.

If you'd gotten with him before he betrayed the Boss, he might've been a bit more private with his relationship with you.

But he's a free man now, free from the Boss's reign.

So maybe he likes to show you off a bit more than is normal.

He also doesn't want kids. He can't stand the thought of having to care for a life so precious when he couldn't even protect his cousin in their youth.

But he is really intrigued by the idea of marriage.

Ever since he'd joined the mafia, marriage wasn't something he ever considered. It just wasn't something he could ever consider. He didn't want to involve a partner in his dangerous life, especially one that he'd care for so immensely like a wife.

It reassures him in an odd way that you were already involved with the mafia before he met you. That means that it wasn't him who dragged you into this mess, and that you're at least strong enough to handle yourself if things got ugly.

He guides his teammates with a firm but caring hand. It's something you find very attractive about him. How he can be strict without being unkind. Especially when he shows this attitude to people he has direct power over, like his team. It's such a green flag when a man doesn't abuse his authority over others.

He finds all of your interests interesting. He likes listening to you talk about anything and everything. You're just so passionate whenever you're talking about things that interest you. He finds it just as attractive as he finds it cute.

He appreciates your patience. He knows his team is a lot to deal with. From Ghiaccio's hair-trigger temper, to Melone's...everything. You tolerate them with a patience that surprises even him. But anyone who can appreciate his team is someone he's not letting go of very easily.

He doesn't mind that you get insecure sometimes. He's happy to reassure you. He's had his fair share of insecurities, even if he's a master at hiding it. He's gotten better over the years at reassuring himself about his own insecurities, and he uses those own tactics to help you feel better about whatever you need to feel better about.

Honorary mentions!

Bruno Bucciarati

He's got this sad, mature air about him that initially drew you in. Unfortunately, Bruno is a family man, through and through. And perhaps his team might be a bit much for you to properly handle. At least all of Risotto's team are adults by the time you meet them. Bucciarati's team is mostly a mess of teenage hormones and homicidal tendencies.

=-=-=-=

In Stone Ocean, however.

You've been an inmate at the Green Dolphin State prison for years, at this point.

Emporio is a good friend of yours, already. He brings you to his Stand room very soon after you meet him.

There, you also meet

Weather Report

It was love at first sight for him.

It was Emporio who had introduced the two of you. You had helped Emporio once without meaning to, and he decided you were a friend and brought you back to his Stand room.

Weather Report was silent when you first met. He barely spoke above a whisper, as par the course with him.

But that's not what surprised Emporio about Weather's reaction to first meeting you.

Weather's eyes literally sparkled, when he first saw you. It was so noticeable to Emporio, who had basically grown up with Weather Report.

It takes him ages to confess.

You come into Emporio and Weather's life years before Ermes or Jolyne come into the picture, and still, Weather needs Jolyne's help to confess anything to you.

He wanted his confession to be sweet and romantic. It ended up being almost rushed, because he gets so impatient with himself that he just blurted out his (rehearsed) confession to you at the worst possible time.

After that whole mess, though, he's a wonderful lover.

He's thoughtful, and affectionate, and great at reassuring you without using his words too much.

He loves observing you. Really, he stares so much. Even he notices it. He's just thankful you don't point it out too often and save him from the embarrassment.

He's not one to talk needlessly, so he's happy to listen to you rant. Really, he could sit there for days on end just listening to you talk if that were possible, or if you'd let him.

Weather isn't really the kind of guy who wants children. He tolerates and respects Emporio, but not the same as he'd treat any other child. He tolerates and respects Emporio like he's an adult, because he's awkward and doesn't know how to talk to children properly.

As he is now, Weather doesn't want kids. He thinks they're a hassle.

But marriage...

He can't wait to marry you. Literally on par with Anasui with how often he thinks about getting married to you.

He has potential rings that he'd propose to you with, where you'd hold your wedding, even what season you'd have your wedding. Weather would love a winter wedding, if only to see how the cold raises goosebumps along your skin. He would imagine what your wedding dress would look like, but he refrains because he wants that to be your surprise to him.

Maybe he's a little delusional, but that's okay. At least he's happy to wait a few years into your relationship to propose. And not. Just. Putting a ring on you when you're sleeping in a car.

He has quite the elaborate proposal planned, anyway. Perhaps he'll do it in a private room at a museum that he takes you to for a date. Or maybe in the intimate setting of your shared bedroom, just after you've gotten out of the shower.

Many daydreams, this man has.

He has no qualms about showing you affection in public. He likes everyone knowing that you're his. And that he's yours, just the same.

He's touchy, but not in, like. The normal way.

He just needs to have his hands on you. Sometimes he's sweet. He'll hold your hand and follow behind you happily. Or he'll hang over your shoulder like a second Stand.

But most of the time, while he's sitting beside you, he'll just bite you. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough for it to be noticeable. Standing in line and there's a moment of quiet between you two? Chomp right on the shoulder. Laying in bed reading? He's probably nibbling on you arm.

Even if he's just laying on your lap, he's probably fantasizing about biting your legs.

(Believe me, that translates to...other fields in your relationship, too.)

Weather doesn't talk much usually. But with you, you two could talk each other in circles for days on end. It's a constant ADHD talk circle for you two. Always talking and infodumping as much as you can. And somehow, it never gets old.

He always has conversation topics in mind, and he's always asking you questions about anything and everything that either of you two are into.

Honorary mention!

Thunder McQueen

At first, I just thought this would've been funny, but I really feel like he would've loved you. He's desperately in need of someone who cares enough to make an effort into being patient with him.

[peachymilkandcream]

For The Glory Of Humanity|Part 3|Erwin x Reader

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, forced/arranged marriage, misogyny, domestic violence, yandere themes/behaviours, violence, Erwin being a (g)rape apologist, power imbalance, age difference, verbal/emotional abuse, murder, sexual coercion, blackmail, etc.

================================================

She watched the ranks of Scouts march by in their parades of grandeur. Ever since the retaking of Wall Maria the people collectively started to care about those who kept humanity safe again. While she had always been a personal supporter, it was for a different reason than most.

Like most girls, she came to the parades to see none other than Captain Levi himself, the heart-throb of the Walls. The man who every girl wished would notice her and be granted the title of Mrs. Ackerman.

However, unlike most when the Captain married she didn't feel envious of the coveted position being filled. The two clearly belonged together, always seen riding together and generally being near. What she envied was marriage itself. She wanted to have that look that Captain Levi gave Lieutenant Evelyn given to her by someone. Levi was clearly a loyal and passionate man, she wanted someone just like that.

Most of the men her age who came about courting were terribly immature. She was old enough to take her place in society and the only way to do that was to find a good husband. This was her purpose as a woman. Unlike Mrs. Ackerman, she had been born into wealth, so her chances at climbing the social ladder were higher than the other woman's. And yet, she had managed to snag one of the most powerful men in Wall Sina. How did she do it?

She didn't hate Evelyn for what she had and had accomplished. Levi would have never given her a second look anyway. It was a celebrity crush, the type most young girls have and then grow out of. If anything, she wanted to be like Evelyn. She was a naïve girl who had seen little of the world and didn't know how to handle herself. And here was this woman would was confident and strong, able to know what she wanted and got it. Married to the perfect man with money beyond her wildest dreams.

She wanted that. And now that the Ackermans had risen to such a level of class, finally she might be in the same circles of the man and woman she admired so much. Maybe she would get lucky and get to have a happily ever after like them.

================================================

Despite being in the same circles and on the same class level, she still felt nervous when it came to approaching the two heroes of humanity. They were dazzling and intimidating, untouchable to simple civilians like her.

Most called them Underground trash, but couldn't refute how high they had climbed and so quickly. To go from rags to riches in one generation was entirely unheard of. Clearly the Captain was incredible.

Incredible. Irreplaceable by this world's standards. How could she ever hope to find a husband even close to his level of perfection? It would be like finding a needle in a haystack. She would be doomed to either die an old maid or marry some weak and unfaithful fool.

"Look at him strutting around like that, thinking he's so high and mighty."

"He has aided in the fight against the Titans."

"Of course and I don't mean he's not a hero. But look at him. No breeding, just money made off of our tax dollars."

The conversation came from beside her, a group of lady friends that her mother frequently gossiped with.

"Agreed, but who honestly can hold a candle to him?"

"I'm telling you the Commander Erwin Smith. Now there is who we should be inviting into our circles. Just as much of a hero as Captain Levi, but with the breeding of a gentleman and a higher position. And besides, he practically taught that- boy-everything he knew. Brought him up into the position he is. That clearly shows his character."

Her head turned to where the one woman was gesturing. Taking in the Commander. She had never thought of it like that before. She wanted someone just like Levi, but why shoot so low? She had the family name, why not try and marry into the Smith family? They were well respected, his father being a teacher at a school for the elites, the Commander attending there himself. He was handsome, taller than the short Captain, and had much of the same personality, but less harsh.

But how to get him to notice her?

There was no beating around the bush. She had to be bold, something he would most likely respect. Or else she'd lose her chance to another girl. And hearing from friends that now that the dangerous Captain was off the market of eligible bachelors, all eyes were turning to his Commander. She had to make her move now.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she marched right up to the Commander and offered a curtsy.

"Commander Smith? I would just like to thank you for your service and for taking the time out of your busy and important schedule to attend a simple party that my parents are hosting."

He raises a brow. "Parents? You're Felix and Klara Blanke's daughter aren't you?"

"Yes sir."

She saw the wheels in his head turning. He knew now her social status, everyone knew it once she divulged her last name.

"Well Miss Blanke. If it takes fighting a war against the Titans is what it takes for us to meet it has been worth it."

She flushes. Most likely from this being the only real male attention she's ever received. "Do you know how to dance Commander? I haven't been asked all evening so I suppose I must be the forward one."

He offers her a small smile before setting down his glass. "A crime for no one to have asked a lovely creature like you. Allow me to do the honors then to save your reputation. Miss Blanke, would you like to accompany me for this dance?"

She smiles sweetly. "It would be my pleasure."

[solar-nightengale]

I had a sudden need to write this after my weekend and so may as well throw it out into the open for the world to see. Just a little post Enchanté snippet with these gremlins for the sake of writing them again. (There aren't any spoilers to the fic itself, this is just its own random little thing)

Anyhow!! Enjoy some angst >:)

CW for Sickness mentions (vaguely referenced however, this is NOT a sickfic)

Sickness had ravaged the household even harder than it usually would have. But then again, until now it had just been two members and thus easier to manage. Pinocchio wasn’t one to get sick very often; most of the time when flu and cold seasons would hit he’d evade most of them. Granted, he can get sick and when he did it would get pretty intense… but even then it’d pass by pretty swiftly. This time he managed to avoid the recent spread, and he was so grateful for that matter.

With three people living under the roof now it made things a little more… difficult. Especially when one of them was a small four year old that had brought whatever nasty malady she had caught home and the other was a forty year old man who’s immune system was as strong as a single stem of straw and refused to end its war on any ailments for as long as it could.

Pinocchio could practically feel the bags drooping under his eyes as he dragged himself out of the bedroom, Lampwick finally sound asleep after several nights of a lot of unrest. Grace showing up to look after him was an absolute blessing. He had no problem looking after his fiancé but from tending to their daughter who had soon recovered and then dealing with him on top of that and for even longer was… well, it zapped him of any energy he might have had. It would be nice to get some rest for the day, knowing his betrothed was in good hands.

With a sigh he opened the next room over, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he glanced around the very vacant room. The man frowned. That was odd. He was sure Beth hadn’t left the room yet, had she?

Suppose she could have; it wasn’t like he was paying much attention right now, so there was a chance he could have missed the moment she went downstairs. He glanced back the way he came seeing Figaro sitting by the staircase. He didn’t… hear any ruckus coming from below, so she had to be inside, right?

“Beth?” he called out as he stepped inside. Nothing. “Beth? Are you in here?”

“Nu-uh!” A child’s voice called back, even if rather muffled. Okay, at least she hadn’t wandered off.

He let out a breath, a smile slipping by and spreading across his face. “Are you sure?”

“Mhm!!” He looked to his right and carefully moved to the one place he presumably heard her from.

“Well if that’s the case, I suppose it wouldn’t be a problem if I were to take a look at get an extra shirt to change into?” he asked as he reached the closet, his words met with what he could only assume as silent contemplation.

And then— “The door’s stuck.”

Ah. He glanced up, seeing the turn latch above having fallen into place after the door had been closed, successfully trapping the toddler inside. “Are you scared?” He asked, already reaching up to undo it.

“No.” he heard her mumble, even as he worked to ease the door open again.

As the daylight inched through the crack of the opening door Pinocchio quickly spotting the toddler sitting in the furthest corner. His smile faded.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asked as he opened the door completely.

The kid only shrugged, her eyes glued to her knees.

“Are you not feeling well?” he asked, Bethan vehemently shaking her head, much to his relief. One sick person in the house was enough, he didn’t need her catching this shit a second time.If that was even possible?!“Are you okay with a little company in here?”

“If you can fit.” she muttered. He was pretty sure he couldn’t, but that didn’t matter right now as he sat down on the bottom of the wardrobe, mindful of the cloaks he so unluckily found himself opening the door to. He looked over, just barely seeing the silhouette of Beth sitting in the distant corner of it, her knees drawn to her chest and eyes forever downcast.

“Did you just feel like hiding?” He asked quietly, the toddler shrugging.

“Didn’ wanna be out there right now.” she muttered.

The man cocked his head to the side. “Why not? Did something happen?”

“Lamwik’s not better yet.”

The woodcarver frowned. “Well, yeah, but it’s not that bad now.”

“Bu’ could still get worse.” he heard her croak, the man stiffening. He could see the toddler’s eyes misting, her hold around her legs tightening after saying what she had said. He knew for sure the child wasn’t a loud crier, and yet he found himself bracing for a loud scream anyway.

“Are you… scared because he’s still sick?” he asked, realising too late that he really should have kept that question to himself. Because while he didn’t receive a verbal answer, hearing the child enough was enough to affirm his earlier concern and confirm his assumption.

Shit.

Wondering whether he could even fit into the closet was not something Pinocchio expected he’d find himself considering at this time and age. The last time he did so was during a game of hide and seek with his father, when he was eight. It had been… three decades since then. Yet here he was, trying to carefully climb and squeeze in next to the whimpering child and carefully picking her up. It was an extremely tight squeeze, Pinocchio forced to pull his legs up to his chest and hunch his shoulders in order to properly fit inside and yet somehow he managed. He could already feel his back screaming, but that didn’t matter right now in the long-run, not while the child’s crying ceased to stop.

He cradled the child to his chest, feeling her trembling with each little sob she released the man quietly ushering her all the while. With each whimper, the woodcarver could feel his heart clench, his hands shaking as he continued to soothe the toddler.

“I don’ wan’ him to go away yet!” she keened, still not looking up at her.

Pinocchio’s eyes widened. “Whoa, no that’s not going to happen, bug!”

“You don’ know that!”

“He’s been getting better, Bethan.” he continued softly, “I-I know it looked bad but I promise you he’s getting better.”

She sniffled, wiping at the snot-mixed tears on her face with a dirtied sleeve before rolling her head to face the back of the closet. He’d yet to see her look up at him since he opened the door… but he considered it a good sign at least that she wasn’t pulling away from him. That was a plus, right?

He grimaced on hearing a cough next door, loud and intense, realising all too quickly that the child in his arms had grown tense again.

“People go away too quickly.” she muttered, the man letting out a sigh.

“I know, Bee. But Lampwick will be with us for a little longer.” He explained as he pulled her up a little closer to him. He felt tiny hands curl around his middle, the one comfort he could find in this… tight situation.“He’s been through worse and still got better before. Watch, in a few days he’ll be back on his feet and acting like nothing happened.”

“You promise?” she asked, finally looking up with those large eyes of hers. If it wasn’t for the situation he would have broken into a smile right then and there.

“You think I’d lie to you?” he asked, withholding a cringe when she frowned only shrugged. Damn, thanks for the faith, kid. “Yes though, I promise.”

She hummed quietly and curled up against him once more, Pinocchio letting out a low breath as he resumed cradling her. He resisted gripping the child tighter as he heard his fiancé’s coughs once more, instead looking down at the child and quietly asking:

“Do you want to go see for yourself? I’m sure it’ll cheer him up to see you around.”

Bethan rapidly shook her head. “No, I don’t wanna see him like that anymore.”

“Okay.” He nodded. He understood, of course. He had been… probably no different all those years when his father had taken ill. But he had been much older than she was… and he couldn’t imagine how scary this could be for a child of her age. So he got it, and he respected it, as he relaxed as much as he could against the back of the wall of the wardrobe.

The lull of peace took over at last, and with it the brunette could feel the fog in his brain starting to catch up to him once more. If he could, he would have fallen asleep right then and there. But the tight squeeze was the one thing that urged him to remain awake. He stifled a yawn, hearing another round of coughs from next door as he looked down at the child still in his arms.

“Did you wanna at least get out of the closet?” he asked, already shuffling up with the intention of climbing out.

“No.” Came the firm response… much to his disappointment.

“Right. Okay.” he muttered as he settled back down into the crawl space he had found himself in.

Welp. Guess he’ll just have to answer for his actions tomorrow. Or for how ever long Grace planned to hold this over his head.

[ninja-muse]

Happy July! Slightly late wrap-up today, as life events meant getting it posted yesterday like I'd wanted just wasn't feasible. (Yes, life is still happening to me. I look more forward to getting back to normal by the day.) But look! We have an actual book haul! Even though these were both bought months ago so really, did I really haul anything? Who's to say?

Anyway, Bury Our Bones comes to me courtesy of Schwab's tour, which obviously I bought a ticket for and it was excellent! If you're at all a fan and get a chance to see her in conversation, I highly recommend it. This was one of the best author events I've had the pleasure of attending. Entertaining, enlightening, not the standard questions.

A pretty decent reading month, considering! I finally got to At the Feet of the Sun (delightful! will have to watch for the next one!) and the library started coming through for me in a terrifying way after that, which is why I haven't read the Schwab yet. In terms of library books:

What Wakes the Bells is a darn good YA fantasy that doesn't fall into the clichés and has some seriously creepy world-building and magic.

A Gentleman's Gentleman is good fun. Exactly as bonkers and entertaining as I like my queer historical romances to be.

The Raven Scholar, I've already posted my recommendation of.

The River Has Roots is a lovely little fairy-tale-ish novella and I've now added El Mohtar's upcoming collection to my TBR

And speaking of fairy tales, I got my hands on an advanced copy of The Summer War! Pure Naomi Novik, in that there's a strong female lead, a fairy tale vibe, a unique world, and what is either just the right length or not quite enough, depending on my mood. Be sure to add it to your anticipated lists for the fall!

(The new Peter Grant novel is, well, a Peter Grant novel. I will always read and enjoy them all.)

That's about it for a life update, unfortunately. June (like May) has been full of adulting and not as much reading time as a result.

And now, without further ado, here's what I did manage to read this month, in order of how much I enjoyed them…

At the Feet of the Sun - Victoria Goddard

Cliopher Mdang is keeping his promise to be Viceroy of Zunidh in his lord’s absence, but finding it harder to balance his courtly self with his traditional self, and his desires.

8/10

🏳️‍🌈 protagonist (ace), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (bisexual), Polynesian-coded protagonist, highly diverse cast generally, 🇨🇦

library ebook

The Raven Scholar - Antonia Hodgson

Neema Kraa is looking forward to retiring alongside her emperor when the death of a contender for the throne suddenly sees her investigating a murder and competing herself.

8/10

Black protagonist, autistic-coded protagonist, secondary cast largely of colour, major 🏳️‍🌈 character (pansexual man), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (sapphic)

library ebook

The Summer War - Naomi Novik

Sorcery, politics, unexpected kindnesses, the dangerous Summer People, a brother in self-exile, and a teen girl at the center of everything. Out in September.

8/10

🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (gay, multisexual)

reading copy

Stone & Sky - Ben Aaronovitch

Peter Grant is on holiday in Scotland. Or he is, until a dead man with gills turns up.

6.5/10

Sierra-Leonean-British protagonist, Sierra-Leonean secondary character, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (pan woman, sapphic), Muslim secondary character

book haul/off my TBR

What Wakes the Bells - Elle Tesch

Mina has devoted her life to keeping her Vesper bell from ringing, but when she cannot stop it, an ancient evil is unleashed—and it might be that only she can save her city.

7/10

🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (lesbian, ace), Japanese secondary character, Black secondary character, 🇨🇦

library book

The River Has Roots - Amal el Mohtar

Sisters Esther and Ysabel are content to tend the willows that border the Antique Lands and nothing could separate them—until a romantic relationship threatens to.

7/10

🏳️‍🌈 main character (lesbian), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (genderless), 🇨🇦

library ebook

A Gentleman’s Gentleman - TJ Alexander

Christopher needs to find a wife if he’s to keep his earldom—but one who’ll keep the secret of his “unique make”. To find a wife, he needs a valet. Unfortunately, the man who turns up both straight-laced and unfairly attractive.

6.5/10

🏳️‍🌈 protagonist (gay trans man), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (bisexual trans man, gay), 🏳️‍🌈 author

library book

The Hunting Trip - Katherine Villyard

A Jewish vampire tracks down Nazis in South America.

5/10

Jewish protagonist

warning: mentions of war crimes, torture

won/ebook

Picture Books

The Witching Hour - Jennifer Harris and Adelina Lirius, illustrator

Anything could happen in the witching hour! If you’re lucky, the kid might even go to bed.

🏳️‍🌈 protagonists (sapphic)

They’re So Flamboyant - Michael Genhart and Tony Neal, illustrator

When a flock of flamingoes moves to the neighbourhood, they ruffle a lot of feathers.

🏳️‍🌈 messaging

Currently reading

Brigands & Breadknives - Travis Baldree

Bookseller Fern is out of sorts, even after starting over. Then she wakes up on an adventure. Out in November.

🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (lesbian)

reading copy

The Affectionate Shepherd - Richard Barnfield

A shepherd writes verses to Ganymede in the hopes of wooing him.

🏳️‍🌈 protagonist

ebook/off my TBR

The Penguin Complete Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle

Victorian detective stories

disabled POV character (limb injury), occasional Indian secondary characters warning: racism, colonialism

Monthly total: 8 +2 Yearly total: 52 Queer books: 3 Authors of colour: 1 Books by women: 6 Authors outside the binary: 0 Canadian authors: 3 Classics: 0 Off the TBR shelves: 1 Books hauled: 2 ARCs acquired: 3 ARCs unhauled: 2 DNFs: 0

January February March April May

[moonlight-tmd]

Idea! I think I remember seeing somewhere on your blog that Shockwave was a civilian frame amongst the many Warframes on the Decepticon side. Going off of that-and probably going to be angry as heck-but now I can't help but think in your "Con's are good" au, that Shockwave was originally one of the few good Senators who did their best to prevent the worst of the anti-warframe acts from going through. When his support for the Deceptions was found out, he was tortured, empuertad without trial and on false allegations, and left for dead before he was found and rescued.

I mention this because I feel a major turning point for the earthbound Autobot team would be for them to uncover this information. This could also serve as a catalyst for them losing trust in the council entirely. What do you think?

Yeah that does sound like something Shockwave might have experienced in this...

Originally I didn't have much info on his backstory but with your input- yeah I can see him being in the council before everything happened.

He was one of the lower position ones but still had much input on how things turn out. When he first heard of the propaganda and plans to eliminate warframes he tried his best to discreetly change the enforcement of that. Even risking stealing and changing the orders. That unfortunately didn't last long as he was caught with the act and upon discovering the reason, the council automaticaly aligned him with Decepticons and send him off to be empurated and locked away. The council couldn't risk having their reputation dirty so they covered it up with him being assasinated.

While in prison, he took his time to re-evaluate his decisions and goals; he didn't regret one bit of his actions, he only wanted the best for the citizen. He spend years reflecting and making plans for no apparent reason- he never thought he could get out of the prison he himself helped build for most dangerous criminals,.. that he now was a resident of himself.

But fate had it that a Decepticon ship attacked the prison in attempt to get their comrades out. He found himself running with the criminals and by all luck managed to catch a ride. Universe had gived him another chance and he wasn't about to waste it.

He changed his name to Shockwave and managed to consult with Megatron himself about his fate and possible aid in return for support from Decepticons. And thus he began helping them overthrow the council.

He was scared of initiating the plans he offered, but it was the only way- he was gonna climb the ranks under a disguise and be their infiltration. His odd frame type granted him the ability to alter his appearance but with empurata helm it was almost impossible to make it pass... Fortunately for them all there was one femme who specialized in self-taught medicine and frame alterations. Blackarachnia made it so his helm could shift along with his frame and therefore made his alter persona, Longarm.

During infiltration of boot camp, Shockwave met a young minibot- foolish and swayed by the tales of the amazingness of Elite Guard. Shockwave felt bad that such a passionate and high-spirited mech would only be disappointed once he learned the truth. Shockwave was surprisingly young for a senator back in the day, so he understood the excitement Bee had- maybe that's why he became friends with him. When Wasp became to be apparent issue for Bumblebee and the officers weren't doing anything despite several notices, Shockwave decided that enough was enough- he was well aware of the rumors of a spy around the camp. He learned from his mistakes and was far more careful about his actions but still it somehow got out. He used the rumors and crafted a well-suited evidence for Wasp to step right in. It worked and Bee was safe, although this satisfaction didn't last long for he was kicked out for some stupid thing few months later.

Now for some events that I don't know how to put in line of time;

When Shockwave learned about Wasp trying to get revenge on Bee he felt guilty- he should've known that putting Wasp in jail wasn't gonna be a permanent solution but he also hoped that he would be stuck there for longer. He didn't like that Bee had to carry the consequences of his lies which is why whnn he revealed that it was him that put Wasp in jail he tried his best to explain his reasoning. He was lucky that Bee understood where he was coming from and forgave him.

When Shockwave learned that the same minibot he was friends with in boot camp had a relationship with Blitwing he was.. shocked to say the least. For someone who believed in the council's fake good so much it was quite controversial. In the end he was happy that Bee was happy, more so when he acknowledged that Bee was not as foolish as he thought and actually looked into the true side of the council.

When the earth rebellion was forming, it was difficult to get Team Prime to trust Decepticons- Shockwave has decided that if they were gonna help them they need to know what the council was capable of and shared his story. He watched their expressions shift to shock and disgust as he described the punishment for simply not wanting a war. The sad part about it is that Optimus actually met Shockwave before all this... As brief as it was, Op saw the mech Shockwave used to be and it pained him to see the same happy mech turned into a bittersweer avenger of the council's victims. It was what pulled the final straw and caused the rebellion to solidify.

That's all for now, thank you for the ask and sorry for the long wait!

[blade-liger-4ever]

Hey! I was wondering about what you think Optimus is going do in your universe to train Smokescreen as a future Prime and leader. (Low key, I was super disappointed that they never interacted one-on-one to address what happened.) Since Primes are usually chosen when the previous one dies, this new role of mentor has got to be odd in more than one way. Can you also share what you think is his perspective on the whole deal is and how his view of Smokescreen changes from knowing the Matrix chose him? No need to rush too much on this since I was gone for a few days before.

Oooooo, that's a good question @kzele.

One of the major things Optimus would likely consider would be all the lack of help for his own ascension to the Primacy when training Smokescreen. Between Megatron's fall from grace, the War breaking out, and the utter barrier between him and Alpha Trion after that (correct me if I'm wrong, but AT was absent from Optimus' side post Matrix), Optimus was learning how to be a Prime on the fly. So when he needed guidance, he was probably getting shown the ropes by the Thirteen in his head - which, given all their personalities and behavior, was probably like going to receive help from your eccentric uncles and aunt.

Not a fun time for him.

So in a way, Optimus would be keeping Smokescreen close by so that if he had a question or theory, Optimus could quickly step in with advice or experience he'd learned the hard way. Optimus would probably feel a bit odd about the whole thing: it's one thing to raise Bumblebee to adulthood, but teaching your successor so he doesn't make the same mistakes you did or be adrift like you were is new. Makes him wonder how Alpha Trion pulled it off so easily on at least two occasions (himself and Smokescreen, of course.)

Optimus is also concerned at times that he might be overstepping, in part because he's really so protective that he wonders at times if he's being too strict or too distant. He's not Smokescreen's father, or related to him in any way; Chromia, though he knows her only through Prowl, clearly did the lion's share of raising him, and he doesn't want Smokescreen to think he's trying to replace her or the 'Bots who gave him shelter while she was busy earning a living for them.

For his part, Smokescreen is mostly unbothered by this. Getting a chance to be closer to Optimus (and cling to him when he overthinks his future as a Prime) is the second most important thing to him after reuniting with his older sister. Sometimes though, he does feel Optimus stresses some of the protocol too much. He usually gets over it by remembering what Alpha Trion told him, but sometimes he needs to tell Optimus, "I appreciate the reiteration, but I can remember things pretty well, Optimus."

It's never really heated between them. More mutual awkwardness, with lots of moments where they each feel like their falling short in the mentor-student relationship.

The real headache would come when Optimus realizes that, should they manage to reunite with surviving allies and defeat the Decepticons, Smokescreen's going to need more diplomatic training than he could hope to impart to him. Optimus' personal diplomatic skills are based off his ability to reach others through his genuinely meant hopes and dreams expressed through words, thereby granting him allies rather easily. While Smokescreen could probably do the same, it would not come quite as easily, in part due to the team's failure to make him feel welcome and thus making him doubt himself. Therefore, as much as it pains him to admit it, Optimus will have to seek out others for such learning. Accelerator would be the most trustworthy diplomat for a start, but there's still the fact that they will soon be dealing with at least four lost colony worlds with different cultures in the future, never mind throwing humanity in alongside them....

As for how Optimus views Smokescreen now, it's only marginally different. From the beginning, Optimus saw great potential: he adapted quickly, listened to orders well, always pulled his weight, and had a great deal to offer as both a combatant and as a friend. Now though, with the realization that he is a candidate for the Primacy, Optimus sees how those qualities actually aid him for the Primehood. Smokescreen's adaptive nature means he'll take change in stride, his attentiveness will allow him to listen to others, his eagerness to do what is right will grant him allies, and his combat abilities and friendly disposition will aid him in the future - perhaps even turn enemies into friends.

Thanks for the question! This was a blast!

[typicalopposite]

Ughhhhh! Today was… draining 😭 I haven’t had the chance to write much… but the last time I checked the chapter was basically at 10k 🫣 and still going… soooooo here’s another little snippet from chapter 6 of my Tommy Mpreg 🫶

The weather is nice.  Nice enough to sit out on the porch swing and get lost in your thoughts… get depressed from your thoughts… a tear slides down Tommy’s cheek just as a familiar red SUV passes by and turns into the driveway; Athena and Karen get out, smiling and waving.  “Hen said we might find you moping around at home,” Athena says, offering a warm smile.  Tommy stares at them, and sighs. “She seriously told you?”  “Well… she told Bobby,” Karen says. “Then they talked about it for a little while,” Athena adds. “Then they told us, and suggested maybe we come talk to you.”  Karen grabs one of the rocking chairs and sits down, smirking. “Since we have some good experience with disapproving in-laws.” Tommy stares at the women, confused. “But Bobby’s parents aren’t alive and— and Karen, Toni loves you!?” “She didn’t always,” Karen corrects. “She has come… a long way.” “And my mother…” Athena chimes in. “Well let’s just say Bobby still consistently has to jump through hoops to stay in her good graces.” “Yeah, well… at least he managed to get in them at all…” Tommy mumbles. Athena sits down on the swing beside him and lays her hand on his. “I wish I could tell you Buck's mother will come around… but that woman— mmph…” Athena makes a face, and Tommy laughs. He fully gets it, and agrees, just by that noise alone.  “She’s definitely a character,” Karen sighs. “But I’ll tell you one thing. You, and these two…” Athena pokes at Tommy’s stomach, before laying her hand against it as the babies start to kick. “—mean more to Buck than she ever has… and ever will. I know you’re trying to keep the peace by keeping quiet. But I’m telling you, it’s not worth it to lose your peace in the process.” He knows she’s right… and Hen’s right… and Eddie’s right… and his mom’s right. He sighs, nodding. “And, just to put it out there,” Athena continues, getting that classic no nonsense Sergeant Grant look in her eye. “If she bothers you any while she’s here, just come to me. I don’t mind showing her how to back to her own lane.”  Karen laughs and reaches out to grab Tommy’s other hand. “Yeah, we’ve got your back.”  And they did. 

We love a good support system, yeah? 🫶

I know it’s late but tagging: @30somethingautisticteacher @onthewaytosomewhere @judymarch15 @sunnywithachanceofbi @nine-one-wanton @bucksxkinard @bidisasterevankinard @kinardsevan and anyone else who wants to share 🫶🫶

[imtrashraccoon]

Funny enough we had mac and cheese for dinner the day I wrote this. No, it wasn't my idea and it was the boxed kind. Homemade is so good though...

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Killer - Heavy

Word Count: 1,860

You were attempting to get some lunch made when Killer showed up again. Moving around on crutches was still rather difficult but you were craving something cheesy. So you were trying your best to balance on your crutches and still do meal prep.

"hey..." he muttered in a low voice as he pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table.

"Hey yourself," you responded and continued what you were doing, barely sparing him a glance.

It wasn't a very nice way to greet a guest but you didn't like how he tended to just teleport into your home without notice. No, you weren't being hypocritical just because you were okay with Dust doing the same thing. At least he hadn't played a stupid prank that had resulted in a hospital visit!

Weirdly, Killer didn't make any effort to retort and when the silence grew too uncomfortable, you turned to properly look at him.

He seemed...fidgety and yet, kind of lethargic. The black ooze that seemed to perpetually drip down his cheekbones from his eye sockets seemed to have increased too. He also seemed to have slight dark circles underneath his eye sockets for once and the glowing red target that floated above his sternum seemed almost distorted and fuzzy.

Apparently, even Killer had bad days it seemed. You couldn't be sure if he tended to act detached like Dust or more reactive like Axe though. Hopefully, he was the quiet type, but you didn't like the chances of that being the case, considering how volatile he was normally.

So, you chose to ignore him, at least for the time being anyways. You really didn't need to know what was bothering him today as it couldn't be good if it affected him this much. Instead, you decided to make homemade mac and cheese to satisfy your cravings. It took a bit more work than the boxed stuff, but you could add as much cheese as you wanted to this way.

You had just started grating the cheese when something tiny bit the back of your head. Looking down at the floor, you spotted a stray toothpick and when you bent down to pick it up, another one hit your back.

Casting a stern look at Killer, you discovered that he had somehow gotten ahold of the container of toothpicks that you normally kept by the stove, despite seemingly not getting up. He stared passively back before sliding another one out of the container and flicking it, with surprising accuracy, so that it hit your chest this time.

You gave him a patient smile. "Can you...not do that? It's annoying and I'm going to eventually step on one, which might hurt."

He said nothing and just stared at you. Then, he went back to flicking toothpicks at you as if you hadn't said anything at all. Almost like a toddler testing what the limits of your patience were.

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the counter. He was apparently in a bratty mood and so you were determined to ignore his antics. He would get bored eventually and stop once you didn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

Once the cheese was granted, you got the milk out of the fridge and went to get a few spices, like salt and pepper, out of the cupboard. You'd just managed to reach one of them when it slid out of your grasp. Maybe you'd grabbed it wrong?

You tried again and got the pepper container this time. However, when you went to grab the salt container, the same thing happened. It was now somehow even further back in your cupboard than you could properly reach.

Heaving a long-suffering sigh and counting to ten, you did your best not to get mad. It would only give him what he wanted after all if you did.

You could do this.

Leaning your crutches against the counter, you balanced on your left foot for a second before jumping up. Your fingers closed around the salt and you grinned in satisfaction.

Unfortunately, you lost your balance when you landed and tried to grab onto the counter to catch yourself.

Strong but boney hands suddenly wrapped around your back, stopping your fall.

Killer's face was then the only thing in your field of vision and your face grew hot as you realized how close he was.

Your tongue felt heavy and your body was paralyzed. You couldn't move no matter how much you wanted to and even if you could, you likely wouldn't be able to stand up without stepping on your bad ankle.

He held you for a few moments before helping you regain your balance again. Once you'd grabbed your crutches and weren't in danger of falling over, he returned to his spot at the table.

He hadn't said a word the entire time. How unlike him...

You took a steadying breath and ran a hand down your face. That had been really embarrassing. If he hadn't acted so quickly, you would've had a nasty fall and possibly injured yourself worse.

You glanced up and instantly made eye contact with him. He seemed to have gone back to staring at you, which was just peachy. What was it with skeletons and staring anyways?

"What's got you in such a funk today, Killer?" you finally asked.

His permanent smile was already tight but the corners pulled up more at your question. "you know, you just reminded me of this weirdo that i know. he's a walking neon sign and stupidly tall... now that's funky!" His tone of voice sounded happy but you could tell he was forcing it.

You frowned that he'd completely ignored your question and hobbled over to the table. Sitting down across from him, you leaned your crutches up against the wooden surface before steepling your hands on the table.

"Killer...are you okay?" you tried again.

He waved you off. "it's fine cute-cake... get it? cause you're really cute and it's a piece of cake to make you mad?"

"Ugh..." You hated that your heart did a little flip at the stupid pun disguised as yet another flirtatious comment. "Come on! Killer, stop deflecting and tell me what's going on," you grumbled.

He opened his mouth to say something else but you reached across the table and pointed a finger in his face. "No. You've been pestering me to pay attention to you, so now I am. What are you dying to tell me?"

"guess you got me...dead to rights..." he muttered.

You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms. "Ha. I'd give you more than a pity laugh but I'm serious here." When he smiled slightly more, you quickly added, "No, don't say that actually I'm cute or an angel. I'm not joking..."

He sighed and hung his skull in defeat. "you're no fun, angel face..." he muttered. He drummed his phalanges on the table for a moment before clenching his fists. "i'm just having a bad day... kind of itching to get some exp too..."

"Ah. I wondered if that could be the case." You pursed your lips thoughtfully and added, "Dust acted similarly when he was having a rough day, you know?"

Killer gave you a curious look and tilted his skull. "i don't get it..." he muttered. "i don't like any humans, you know?"

Rather than give you time to answer, he kept muttering. "...i once met a human who manipulated me and eventually forced me to kill everyone i ever knew...over, and over, and over again... it got to the point where i acted on my own without any prodding...and it happened over and over... until they got bored and left... they abandoned me after everything i did..."

The longer he talked, the more unnerving he became. You were familiar with info dumping death spirals by now, but it still sent shivers down your spine at how hollow his voice sounded compared to how he normally acted. You didn't like Fake-happy Killer but you especially didn't like Deathly-serious Killer either.

Without really thinking, you reached across the table again and this time, you placed your right hand on his left. You didn't say anything yet and just sat there listening to him.

The gesture seemed to shock him out of his ramblings and he looked down at your joined hands. When you didn't pull away, he caught your gaze again and studied you intently.

"why aren't you...upset...? i just told you why i'm this messed up..." His face hardened and he abruptly stood up, pulling his hand away roughly. "don't just look at me like that! get mad! call me a freak! say something! anything..."

He collapsed back into the chair, that had somehow not fallen over, and clutched his skull in despair. Then, in a small voice, he muttered, "forget it. i don't need your pity..."

"Hey."

You waited until he shifted and looked up at you before speaking again. "This explains why you act similarly to Axe and Dust..." you commented with a wry smile.

He stared at you with a mixture of disbelief and shock. He looked down at his hands and then back up to you. "what's that supposed to mean...?"

You took one of his hands in your own and gave it a small squeeze. "I shouldn't compare you to them I guess. You're similar in that you've been through awful circumstances and managed to come out the other side alive, but in doing so, you had to change. Maybe you think it was for the worse but I'm not focusing on that part right now. There's plenty different about you compared to the others, but it doesn't change the fact that you're still hurting and I can't stand seeing you like that."

You turned his hand over and examined it, although you couldn't really see his palm because of his fingerless gloves. Running the fingers of your other hand over his own, you hummed softly.

"I can't condone what you do for work but I can see you aren't completely irredeemable. You've been awful to me and yet you also tried to fix things when you went too far. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but you haven't actively threatened to harm me since we first met either."

Killer was silent for a little while and he seemed to be pondering what you'd said.

You sighed and looked away from him. "Look, I still don't really like you... But, despite everything, I can't bring myself to hate you, especially after what you just told me..."

He made a quiet clicking sound with his non-existent tongue. "interesting..." he muttered. He ran a thumb over your fingers in a thoughtful way.

"no wonder they both like you..." He curled his phalanges around your hand and brought it up to his teeth.

From the smirk on his face, you just knew he was being flirtatious. This was confirmed when he pressed a slow skeleton kiss against your knuckles.

"you're even cuter when you're red in the face like that, angel~"

Scratch that, you hated him all over again!

[hellfirenacht]

Reader ==> Hang Out With Eddie One on One

lsekai Chronicles Master List

START HERE <<-- FIRST CHAPTER HERE

Recommended Previous Chapter: ==> N/A

Chapter Summary: It's your first time hanging out with Eddie Munson one on one.

Tags: angst, hurt/little to no comfort, mentions of nausea but Reader does not throw up, Reader has a small panic attack, references to Flight of Icarus events, Oops! All Angst!

@jo-harrington I did warn in my list that I could be a Monkey's Paw Author

Reader ==> Ride Shotgun with Eddie

Your body almost hurt from how stiff you felt, both from the shitty futon you’d been sleeping on at Benny’s on the nights that the different sports teams weren’t trashing the place, and from how tense you felt sitting shotgun in Eddie’s van. 

You wished you could relax and not come across as a total weirdo to the guy sitting next to you. Eddie was currently driving you to his place, with the promise of letting you borrow a few cassettes and selling you some weed. 

When you thought back to your old life before sliding into this world, you had hazy memories of smoking with friends, but sometimes you remembered differently. Either way, it was a good excuse to spend some one on one time with him. 

If you didn’t know anything about Eddie it’d be easier, but so far you couldn’t look at him for longer than a few seconds without thinking about-

Well, you were just going to not think about that. Not yet. 

Eddie took a sharp turn and you reached up instinctively to grab the “oh shit” handle and tried not to slam into the door. 

“Jesus, Eddie.” you muttered, wondering if his driving would kill you before you had a chance to try and save him. If he could hear you over the sound of Judas Priest blasting through his old rattling speakers, he didn’t show it. 

You dared to look at him out of the corner of your eye. Eddie was wearing a band shirt so faded you couldn’t make out what it said from this angle, and ripped jeans. His head was moving to the music and you could see him mouthing the words the the song that was playing, and his hands were banging against the steering wheel occasionally. 

This was Eddie’s world and you were just living in it. Literally 

“We covered this song once.” Eddie said, looking over at you for a second. Your heart jumped for a second and you wondered if you would ever get used to him acknowledging you. “My band I mean. Corroded Coffin.”

“Oh, yeah?” you responded with a slight pause beforehand. Wish you weren’t so fuckin’ awkward, self. You chastised yourself. 

“Yeah, in middle school we were all forced to perform at the talent show.” Eddie laughed, mostly to himself. “It was a nightmare. I thought I was gonna puke, man.” 

You stared at him, wrapping your mind around this. Why was it so easy to accept that the other characters had lives before, during, and after what you had seen on tv but with Eddie it was different? 

Because he only had ten minutes of screen time before he was wanted for murder. You reminded yourself. 

“They forced you to perform?” you asked, trying to imagine him, Gareth, Jeff, and Grant as pre-teens. Had the other kids been forced to perform? Steve? Nancy? You made a mental note to ask about that later.

“Yeah it was a stupid rule.” Eddie took another dangerous turn that made you grip your seat with white knuckles. He at least decided to turn down the music just a bit before continuing with his story. “I avoided it as long as I could but they managed to corner me into signing up. I refused to go down alone though so I roped some friends into joining me and thus, Corroded Coffin was born.”

“So you’ve been friends with the others since middle school?” you asked. If Eddie hadn’t been driving like a maniac you might have been able to relax a little as he led the conversation. 

“Oh, no. Gareth joined in on drums in my second senior year.” he explained. “It was originally me, Ronnie, Jeff, and Dougie.”

Well, you knew at least two of those names. Jeff and Gareth had been there the night that Dustin asked for you to sub in for Grant. You didn’t remember much about them other than how they looked at you like fresh meat thrown to a wolf pack. 

“A middle school talent show, huh?” you asked, finally looking at him for more than just a few seconds at a time. “Were you any good?”

“Oh, not even a little. We got boo’d off the stage and a ton of parents complained about our choice of song.” he smiled brightly, full teeth. “I’m pretty sure they changed the ‘everyone must perform’ rule after that.” 

“Sounds like you failed for the good of all the kids in Hawkins. Bet you’re a hero to some of them.” You bit your tongue wincing at your choice of words. Hero. It was so cheesy and too on the nose. It didn’t mean anything. It meant everything. It meant nothing. Just stop overthinking-

“It’d be the first time someone thought I did any good in school.” Eddie said, pulling into the Happy Hills Trailer Park. He pulled up in front of his trailer and parked, and you hopped out, glad to be on steady ground. 

Your watch said that it was around seven thirty. You’d walked all the way to the high school to be picked up by Eddie after Hellfire, he’d offered to pick you up at your place but... well you didn’t need him knowing where you were staying right now. 

“Eddie.” An older man was sitting on the porch, cigarette in hand, as he nodded at his nephew. 

“Thought you’d be off to work by now, Wayne.” Eddie said, hopping on the steps to the porch. 

“Just about to head out.” Wayne’s eyes drifted over to you, taking in a drag and looking you up and down. Had it been any other old man, you would have felt deeply uncomfortable, yet with Eddie’s uncle you felt like- you couldn’t place it. If you had to take a shot in the dark, you assumed that he was trying to decide if he should judge you. 

Actually, maybe you were a little uncomfortable now. 

Eddie grabbed your shoulder and pushed you up to stand next to him as he introduced you. 

You shot your hand out and gave him the best hand shake you could. “Nice to meet you.” you said. Wayne took your hand with his free one and shook it, giving you a nod. Whatever he had been thinking before disappeared and he stood up and flicked his cigarette off the porch. 

“Don’t stay up too late.” Wayne said, heading towards his truck, parked on the other side of the trailer. “Granny dropped off a casserole in the fridge if you get hungry.” 

The scent of cigarette smoke hung stale in the air of the trailer, and Eddie cracked a window in an attempt to air it out. You looked around, taking in the interesting choice of decore. 

“Do you want a drink?” Eddie asked, looking over at you as you stared at the walls. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” you said, making eye contact with a Garfield mug by the door. 

“Why would that inconvenience me?” 

“Well if you get me a drink what would you drink out of?” you asked, scanning the seemingly endless shelves of mugs and hats on the walls. 

You heard Eddie laugh from the kitchen. “I’ll make due.” When you turned to look at him again he was holding a beer in his hand. No need for a mug then, you guessed. 

“No, really, this is a lot of mugs for two guys.” you said, looking around. The small living room had a couch and an old arm chair, and there were just so many fucking shelves of mugs. “And hats.” 

Eddie walked over to you and handed over a beer, which you took without a word. He’d been enough of a gentleman to even open it for you. You took a sip, trying to remember if you even liked beer. 

“It’s just something Wayne always collected.” Eddie said. “I never really thought too much about it. Actually I don’t think I ever see him wear hats much either, mostly during the summer.” 

“Do you wear hats?” You scanned the line of hats over one of the windows. 

“Not since I was a kid. Those caps just make my hair go everywhere.” 

“I like your hair.” 

Eddie looked at you and you made eye contact with him for the first time since he picked you up, making your stomach twist. He almost looked bashful at the compliment. 

“Thanks.” he looked like he might want to say more, but instead he turned around and started walking towards the opposite end of the trailer and you followed him. 

Eddie’s room was overwhelmingly Eddie. Your eyes scanned the room, picking out pieces of him as you went. There was a small closet that was a little open, showing a guitar body that didn’t have any strings, a homemade Corroded Coffin banner, posters that were plastered on almost every spare inch of wall, a yoyo on his dresser, his electric guitar hanging on his mirror.

You stared at the guitar and tried to calm the pounding of your heart, trying to push down the memories of seeing him play the instrument on the small screen of your computer back at home and what happens after. 

Calm down, calm down, calm down. You chanted in your mind and looked away from the dresser to where Eddie was on the other side of the bedroom. He was looking through a basket on the floor and you could hear the slight clacking sound of cassette tapes knocking together as he looked them over. 

“You might have to rewind these.” he said, tossing them on the bed. “And one of these isn’t done so when you find that one, give it back.”

You picked up one of the tapes, seeing the label with his handwriting. You had told him that you were interested in getting into more metal music and Eddie had been more than happy to offer up some of his mixtapes for you to borrow. 

“So what’s on all of these?” you asked, the labels not giving you any hint of what could be on them. Faerune, Ralishaz the Mad, Stroud’s Castle Caper, Middle Earth. You read each label one by one, realizing that all of these had something to do with D&D or fantasy, the fucking nerd. 

“A bit of everything.” He said, taking a seat on his bed, looking at the tapes. “Just whatever I was into at the time that I didn’t want to miss when it came on the radio.”

“And the labels...?” you asked, looking them over, noticing a smudge on one that faded to a fingerprint. You wished that you could ignore the small details that were making Eddie so real, it only made your head spin. The more of him you saw, the harder it became to say you weren’t going to try and change anything. 

Even if it means risking your own life? 

You missed his explanation of why he named the tapes the way he did and you instead shoved one out at him “Can you put one on?” you asked, sounding a little more frazzled than you had intended. 

Eddie took the tape and put it in the smaller boom box that was plugged in on the floor and hit play. You sat next to him, trying so hard not to think about him, which was a stupid endeavor considering you were in Eddie Munson’s world, in Eddie Munson’s trailer, sitting on Eddie Munson’s bed, with Eddie Munson.

You were sitting on Eddie Munson’s bed. You were sitting on his bed right next to him. You felt yourself get stiff again, and you closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths. With any luck he would just think that you’re focusing on the music instead of trying to shove down the sudden wave of dirty thoughts that drowned out your moral dilemma and left you with a completely different problem now. 

This is what you get for reading so much fan fiction. 

Reader ==> Calm the fuck down

You focused on the sound of the music, the last ten seconds of the song were cut off abruptly with a new song. The sound of the radio DJs announcement of the new song adding to the homemade quality of the tape. 

You took another sip of the beer that had been ignored in your hand, letting the burn of the cheap drink distract you and pull you out of your mind for a moment. Eddie had started talking again, telling you about the song and more technical things about the guitar solo. 

He’s info dumping. You realized, and opened your eyes again. You looked at him and he wasn’t looking at you, just going on and on about the song, fiddling with one of his rings. 

He’s nervous. The retaliation hitting you like a brick. You had been so wrapped up in your own nerves of being alone with him that it never once occurred to you that he might be feeling nervous around you. You couldn’t fathom why. You were just some weirdo who crashed his club once and now were trying to be his friend in an attempt to eventually save his life. He only knew about that first part though. 

You were tempted to reach out and rub his back to calm him down, but you didn’t want to be too forward. 

“I like the song.” you said when he stopped to take a breath. “I can see why you do, too.” 

You noticed his shoulders relaxed a little and he smiled at you and you wished he wouldn’t because you didn’t think your heart could take it. 

“I listened to this tape a lot last summer.” he said as another song came on, and the whiplash from metal to what sounded like country. 

“This is different.” you said. “I didn’t take you as a country fan with the... everything about you.”

Eddie stood up and walked over to his dresser, digging around through a drawer and pulling out a small bag of weed. Right, that’s the other reason you used to hang out with him tonight. 

“Yeah, my mom was from Mempis.” he said, measuring out what you’d asked him for and you started scrambling for your wallet and pulled out the time-appropriate cash you had in there. “So I grew up with this kind of music.”

You two exchanged goods and you shoved the baggie in your backpack. From where you were sitting, you noticed another guitar that you’d missed when you first stepped in his room. It was an acoustic guitar sitting in the corner, out of the way but not so much that it looked completely ignored. Eddie had gone in and painted words on the body of the guitar, squished together as if he hadn’t thought out how he should space out his writing. 

This Machine Slays Dragons.

Of all the small bits of Eddie that you had learned in the past few days, this was the thing that punched you in the gut and humanized him completely. The site of this acoustic guitar is what made you feel clammy and the weight of this world suddenly came crashing down on your shoulders. 

“Have you ever been to Tennessee?” you asked, your voice sounding foreign to you as you tried desperately to anchor yourself. 

Five things you can see. Guitar. Another Guitar, Corroded Coffin banner. Empty beer can. Eddie

That wasn’t going to work. 

“No, I’ve never left Hawkins.” Eddie said, putting his stash away, oblivious to the storm that was raging inside your brain. “Mom, uh, used to talk about how her music felt like a plane ticket home even if she was stuck here. I say that my bands music is more like a portal to another dimension-”

“Where’s your bathroom?” you asked, your stomach lurching. 

His head snapped up at you, and you tore your eyes away from the guitar as his words echoed in your mind. 

Portal to another dimension. Portal. Another dimension. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Eddie asked, taking a step close to you, his brows were furrowed under his fringe as he looked you over. When you didn’t immediately answer, he pointed out of his bedroom “Bathroom is right there.”

You gave him a nod and quickly locked yourself in the bathroom and tried not to hurl. He was real, Eddie was real and he was going to die if you didn’t do something. Eddie was real, and he listened to blue grass, and he had an acoustic guitar that he painted himself, and he made mix tapes, and he had a mom, and he owned a yoyo and he just sold you weed and he was going to be killed by monsters trying to save this town and the world. 

It took a moment to calm yourself, taking deep breaths. You had been lying to yourself since the day you arrived. You had been telling yourself that this was alright, that you were totally able to handle being transported to another dimension, knowing what was going to happen.You could be a hero and save everyone. 

That was a fucking lie. You were still trying to tell yourself that this was a dream, that this wasn’t really happening and that these people didn’t really exist because they couldn’t exist. 

But they did. They existed, and you were no hero. Eddie’s voice echoed and layered with yours in your mind and you turned on the sink, splashing water in your face. People were going to die and did you really think you could do this? 

You needed to get out of there. 

You flushed the toilet and stepped out of the bathroom and walked back into Eddie’s room. He was fidgeting with a guitar pick between his fingers and he looked up at you. 

“Everything okay?” he asked, standing up from his bed. “You look kind of...”

You were sure you looked like shit, shaken up and feeling clammy. 

“Y-yeah.” you said, trying not to bolt out of the trailer like a mad person. “Sorry, I’m not feeling great. I think I need to head home.”

“Totally, I get it. I’ll drive you home.” Eddie said, and the genuine worry in his voice made you want to cry. 

“No...!” The word came out more desperate than intended. You could not let him know where you were staying right now. “I- I think I need the fresh air. I don’t live far from here.”

“You look like you’re about to pass out.” Eddie protested, and your brain scrambled to think of any good excuse for what to do next. “I’m gonna be honest, you look like shit.”

“Can you drop me off at Dustin’s place?” you asked, grabbing onto the first name in your head. 

“Dustin... Henderson?” Eddie asked. “Why?”

Why? Because you couldn’t let Eddie know that you were squatting in Benny’s. Because you couldn’t tell him that on Friday and Saturday the old run down diner you were calling home was crawling with basketball players drinking and hungover. You couldn’t say that on those days you jumped between the Party’s homes to hide out and sleep. 

There was so much you couldn’t say and you hated every second of it. 

“His mom is a friend of my family.” You managed to say, hating the lie on your tongue. “And since my family isn’t around here...”

Eddie’s eyes were staring hard into yours, searching for something. If he found what he was looking for, he didn’t say so and just nodded. “Yeah, I’ll drop you off at Henderson’s.”

You grabbed the cassettes on the bed and shoved them into your backpack, following him to his van. How had you managed to fuck up so bad? You hadn’t been there for a half hour and he was already needing to drop you off somewhere else like a kid getting sick at a sleepover. 

The drive to Dustin’s was awkward, Eddie had the music turned on again but at a much lower volume as the two of you drove in silence. You stared out the window, counting street signs and focused on your breathing. 

What a mess of tonight you’d made. 

Eddie’s driving wasn’t as mad as it had been earlier and when he pulled up to Dustin’s home which you were thankful for. 

“You sure you're gonna be okay?” Eddie asked, looking you over. “Need me to, I don't know, walk you to the door?”

You shook your head, not needing him to do anything more than he already has. Besides, you were planning on walking to the back of the house and sitting in the shed to give yourself some alone time. 

“I'll be okay.” You said, sounding far more confident than you felt. “Thanks for the ride... And the tapes... And the weed.” You gave him an awkward smile which he managed to return. 

“Yeah, any time.” He said and you got out of the car and headed towards the garage to be out of sight, only emerging outside again when you heard the van pull away. 

You made your way to the back yard and changed your mind, moving into the basement instead. 

It was going to be a long night as you processed the reality you were living. 

--

Tumblr User ==> What next?

[sxcret-garden]

Theo ღ Be Mine [M]

ღ P1Harmony Theo x fem!reader ღ feat.: Keeho ღ words: ~5.8k ღ genre: smut (dom!Theo, some nipple play, marking, fingering, unprotected sex, drunk sex, jealous Theo is a little possessive), college AU, enemies to lovers vibes ღ warnings: alcohol consumption, (reader is smaller than him)

Desc.: You’ve had secret feelings for Choi Taeyang for a while now, and you’re anything but happy about them. So now that your childhood friend Keeho has invited the both of you to his party, you’re forced to decide if you want to keep avoiding him, or if you want to finally take your chance and make him yours. 

It was the exact moment that your eyes met his the second you entered through the door of your friend Keeho’s house, that you decided to get absolutely shitfaced tonight - with he not referring to the guy you’ve known since childhood, but one of his friends whose personality you just can’t put your finger on. All you know is he makes you nervous, but not in the bad way. More in a way where your heart starts beating harder and you feel your temperature rising if you stand too close to him. You very much have a horrible crush on this guy, but instead of conveying that to him, you shoot him a glare and then walk the other way. 

“What’s with the mood?” Keeho immediately catches up to you and starts up a conversation. “I thought we’re here to celebrate today?”

“Just give me alcohol,” you huff, and you two approach something like an improvised bar set up in the living room of his house. His family is gone for the weekend, so that’s why he decided he needed to use the opportunity to throw a big party to celebrate. What you’re celebrating? Nobody really knows, but there’s alcohol and that’s reason enough for the average college student to show up. Thus, his house is already pretty crowded - another thing you’re not a big fan of. However, with some liquor in your system you should be fine, and then, if you manage to avoid him, you might even be able to have some fun tonight.

Keeho pours you a cup of the fruit punch that he got who knows where. Maybe he even made it himself, in which case you probably shouldn’t even consider drinking it with the way he almost gave you alcohol poisoning with another experimental drink of his a while back. 

“Turn that frown upside down!” he tells you with a singsong tone in his voice as he hands you the red plastic cup, and you shoot him an angry glare.

“Shut up…” you bark back, but he doesn’t seem to take it personally. Instead he just grins at how you down the cup in one go, and without the need for words, he grants you a refill right away.

“Someone’s looking for a way to escape reality today, aren’t you?” he remarks. As you feel the mixture of sugar and alcohol entering your blood flow almost right away and making your body feel a little lighter, you finally relax a little.

“Did you have to invite him?” you answer with a question.

“Him?” Keeho questions, and in no time he seems to figure out who you’re talking about. “Oh, you mean Taeyang?” A disgruntled noise from your side tells him he’s right with his assumption. “He’s a good friend of mine. How could I not invite him?”

“I don’t like him?” Silence follows, and Keeho raises his eyebrows as he gives you a judging look.

“You do though…?” he eventually answers. “I think you just don’t like the fact that you like him.” You feel yourself agreeing with him, and before that feeling can turn into coherent thoughts, you say,

“I don’t wanna talk about it. Let’s go do something fun.”

“I can introdu-”

“No need.” You cut him off sharply, then you start walking towards the garden. Keeho follows suit, and he puts his arm loosely around your shoulders.

“What if I tell you he’s taken an interest in you too?” he suddenly says just when you’ve reached the door leading from the living room to the veranda. You feel your heart stop for a second upon hearing those words, but you do your best not to let your friend notice.

“You sure I shouldn’t bring him to say hi to you?” Keeho follows up with a question and you spin on your heels to face him, your dress fluttering in the warm summer air. You’re usually not the type to wear dresses unless it’s for a formal occasion, but somehow Keeho kept insisting on how good you would look in this one and how much he’d love to see you wear a dress casually just once, so eventually you gave in. Not because he convinced you 100%, it’s mostly because he wouldn’t stop bugging you about it and you really needed him to shut up for once. 

“Very sure,” you retort. “Now, I’m getting tipsy so that means I’m in the mood to dance.” You hold your hand out to him, waiting for him to take it.

“There isn’t even proper music playing,” he argues.

“Well, you’re the host, so do something about it!” 

“Alright. I’ll be right back,” Keeho says, and with a grin and an excited spark in his eyes, he rushes back inside to turn on some proper music to party to, while you tend to the cup in your hand and empty this one in no time too. You won’t be able to keep holding it while you’re dancing anyway, so you might as well finish it and get a new one once you want another drink. Throwing it into the trash bin out in the garden that Keeho must’ve prepared beforehand, you hear a familiar tune resound from the speakers both inside the house and outside on the terrace. It’s a song you’ve liked ever since you first discovered it, and when you see your childhood friend coming out of the house and returning straight to you, you shoot him a proud look.

“You know what I like,” you remark with a grin on your lips, to which he shoots you a similar expression as he takes you by the hands.

“I can’t have you being unhappy at my party,” he says, and you appreciate the thought. Then you start dancing, along with some other people around you. For a while neither of you says anything, and you just enjoy the way the music, the alcohol, and your and Keeho’s synchronized movements are gradually making you feel more at peace with the situation you’re in. However, at some point any kind of happiness needs to end, and so does this one when your beloved but sometimes slightly annoying childhood friend opens his mouth.

“So… what is it about Taeyang that you like so much?”

“Ugh…” you reply with a groan and avoid eye contact with your friend.

“Or… maybe it’s easier if I ask what you dislike so much about this?” Keeho keeps going ruthlessly. “I mean, he might seem like an angry kitten at first, but really he’s a nice and reliable guy once you’ve gotten to know him a little.” Something about the way he worded that first part bothers you, but you decide not to give it too much thought.

“Can we just not talk about him?” you retort instead, and though you notice the way Keeho sighs at you, you don’t react to it. There is one thing that Keeho doesn’t know. There is no need for him to introduce you two, because technically you already know each other - if having one conversation can be called knowing someone, but you suppose Taeyang at least became an acquaintance through that. The topic you talked about was something mundane, you remember it was after one of your shared lectures, but you don’t remember any details of what was said. Details that you do remember however were the way he swiped his hair back mid sentence, the way the look in his eyes was so intense that it made you feel the urge to start a staring battle with him right on the spot simply because you wanted to prove to yourself that you could withstand it, or the feeling you were left with once he walked out of the lecture hall. You’d never felt yourself this attracted to a stranger - or anyone for that matter - and still you can’t even grasp the full reason why. Sure, he isn’t ugly, and he’s on the tall side too, but that applies to many guys. There must be something else that keeps drawing your full attention to him like a spell put on you whenever you happen to spot him somewhere at uni or your paths cross out in the hallways on the way from one class to the other. And the way you just can’t figure out what that something is makes you hate these feelings that you have for him and that only seem to be growing stronger with each passing day - or maybe it’s the fact that you have no idea how to approach him and make him yours. But you would never admit any of that out loud.

“Oh, you know what?” Keeho’s exclaim tears you out of your thoughts and brings you back to reality. “We should get some games from the basement for later. Drunk Twister sounds like a good idea.”

“It sounds like a horrible idea to me so I won’t take part, but I can help you carry some games upstairs?” you suggest, and Keeho nods. You’re a little sad when you let yourselves fall out of the rhythm to walk back inside, where you check your surroundings first of all. Taeyang seems nowhere in sight, so you relax a little and you let out a small sigh. You follow Keeho across the house and to the basement, when suddenly, halfway down the stairs, he abruptly comes to a halt right in front of you so you almost crash face first into his back.

“Oh, I forgot something,” he shouts, and then turns around one step below you. “I was gonna bring something with me to the basement, mind if I go get it real quick?” You step aside as if to signal him that it’s alright with you, and he hurries back up the stairs past you. You sigh as you watch him disappear into the hallway, and somehow you must realize you’re not as annoyed with him as you usually are when he pulls things like this. 

“Is it the alcohol?” you question. “I should drink more often in that case.” You let out a dry laugh and lean against the cool wall of the staircase, directing your gaze at your shoes while you wait. You picked out sneakers to go with the dress, because if you’re already forced to wear something you’re not used to wearing normally, you at least want your feet to be comfortable. Plus, these simple black and white chucks suit any kind of clothing - or at least that’s what you think. A smile crosses your lips - whether it’s because you’re suddenly proud that you didn’t let your best friend annoy you into wearing 100% what he wants, or if it’s just the bliss of being slightly drunk so you don’t care. And then you notice someone approaching the stairs in the corner of your eye, and when you raise your chin to yell at Keeho for taking so long, the words suddenly get stuck in your throat.

“Oh.” That is all he says upon recognizing you. And recognize you he did within a second, you’re sure of that from the way his expression quickly changes from surprise to something like a closed door, as if he had something to hide. Choi Taeyang… his name pops up in your mind, but that’s about the only thought your brain can produce at that moment. His gaze drops from your face to the stairs as he starts to descend them, and when he’s about two steps away from you, he raises the plastic box in his hand. You notice it contains several other smaller boxes on closer look and you wonder just why it was so important for Keeho to bring them to the basement today and not any other time. 

“Keeho asked me to take these with me and to help you carry some games to the living room,” Taeyang explains, mostly looking at the ground in front of him. However, when your gazes meet for a second, you can feel goose bumps forming on your arms and legs, and at the same time that familiar heat arises in your stomach again. You curse Keeho in your mind as it dawns on you that he most likely sent Taeyang here to set you two up, then you turn your back to the guy next to you and you walk all the way downstairs, closely followed by him.

“Give me those,” you say, gesturing to the boxes usually used to store leftovers, and when Taeyang hands them to you, your fingers touch for a split second. You try to ignore the electric spark this causes you to feel just where your skin came in contact with his, and instead you put the boxes to their rightful place. Then you immediately move on to the next shelf to look for some fun games - you have no time to lose if you want to get out of here as fast as possible.

“You sure know this place well,” Taeyang remarks. “Do you come around here often?”

“Well, me and Keeho have known each other for an eternity so… pretty much,” you answer.

“Oh, so you are the childhood friend he keeps talking about!” the guy next to you exclaims. 

“Yeah,” you respond while taking a few games out of the shelf and quickly handing them to Taeyang. You must admit you appreciate the small talk, especially while having a perfectly valid excuse to avoid having to make eye contact with Taeyang. Still, you’re starting to curse Keeho even more upon learning that he seems to have already told Taeyang quite a lot about you. 

“Isn’t this enough?” he questions as you turn back to the shelf and search all the various boxes with your eyes. 

“He said to bring Twister too,” you explain, just before the colorful box comes into sight. “Found it!”

“Twister?” Taeyang repeats. “Not a fan of it.”

“Me neither,” you agree, and then you get on tiptoes, trying to reach the box on the top shelf, but failing horribly. Next to you, you can hear Taeyang chuckling softly at the sight, and when you’re about to yell at him for it, he puts the games you already handed him aside and approaches you. Trapping you between the shelf and his body, he reaches the box with ease and recovers it for you.

“There you go,” he says while handing it to you, and you’re not sure if he’s making fun of your height or if he’s being sincere, but from the way a somewhat shy smile has formed on his lips you guess it’s probably the latter. And it makes your heart flutter in a way you’ve never felt before.

“Thanks,” you say, your voice monotonous, and you mentally give yourself a pat on the shoulder for not giving away your current inner turmoil of emotions. 

“Your dress…” Taeyang starts speaking again, without taking his eyes off you. “I think it looks good on you.”

“O-oh… thank you,” you answer, this time without being able to avoid stumbling over your words. “Keeho helped me pick it out.”

“I see…” You’re not sure if your eyes are tricking you when you see his pupils growing darker by one shade before he turns away, and it’s not like you have any way of confirming it. So you try to push that hunch away, but with how you find yourself trembling ever so slightly, there is no way you can deny the overload of feelings he sparks within you.

“Let’s go back up,” he says, and you’re thankful for your release from this prison of a situation finally coming into sight.

“Yeah,” you answer. Without exchanging another word, you both return to the first floor, and you put the boxes into the living room, just like Keeho asked. Speaking of him, you leave Taeyang within a second to go look for your friend, and you eventually find him outside, chatting with some guys you’ve never really talked to. Still, you approach him, and once you wrap your hand around his arm with a strong grip, he winces in surprise and calls out your name.

“Whoa!” he exclaims as soon as he discovers your angry expression. “What did I do???”

“You know exactly what you did.”

“Ohhh… about Taeyang? Sorry, I got caught up here, so I asked him to help you instead, haha!” By the tone of his voice alone you can tell that was nothing but a white lie, but you can’t exactly scold him for trying to set you up in front of some people you don’t even know, so you just glare at him some more and then decide to leave for now.

“Hmpf…” You turn on your heels and walk right over to the bar. Even when Keeho tries to stop you by calling out to you, you don’t pay him another look.

You’re not sure how much time you spend by yourself just taste-testing yourself through all kinds of bottles you find in Keeho’s kitchen, you just know that once he calls everyone to gather in the living room for playing some games the sun has fully set and you are significantly more drunk than you were before. Still, you refuse to partake in any of the games and instead join the people who decided to just watch. Taeyang as well seems to have made that same decision, as you find him leaning against a wall across the room with a cup in his hand, sparing the people playing a look or two every once in a while. But mostly his eyes are glued to you, and at this point he too seems drunk enough not to make a secret out of how much he really likes the sight of you in that dress. You would’ve usually gotten uncomfortable if someone kept staring you down this obviously, but somehow in this one case you like the way he’s fallen for your looks. It makes you feel a little more powerful in your situation, and also like maybe you do have a chance with him after all. But again, this is nothing you would ever admit out loud. 

At some point he disappears behind the people standing next to him, heading off to god knows where. It is that moment in which your eyes lose sight of him, that you feel like something’s been torn away from you - something much more significant than just the sight of a handsome guy. Still, you shake your head in an attempt to rid yourself of such emotions, and in your mind you can hear drunk you and sober you fighting over whether you should give in to your feelings or not. And then, without having reached a conclusion, you suddenly hear him calling out your name, his voice resounding close to your ear. You whirl around in surprise, and at the same time you can feel a tingly sensation rushing through your whole body. The way your name sounds spoken in his voice keeps ringing in your ears, while you try to talk to him like you would normally talk to your friends.

“You surprised me…”

“Sorry,” he grins at you. You find a playful spark in his eyes, as if he startled you on purpose, and when he lifts his right hand to show you the item he’s holding in it, you tear your gaze away from those dark brown pupils. 

“Alcohol?” you question once you realize he’s holding a fancy looking bottle.

“Sparkling wine or something… I found it in Keeho’s kitchen,” Taeyang explains and he shoots the host a look. “We’re allowed to take this, right?” You’re not sure if the answer to that is yes or no, but what you do know is that your childhood friend wouldn’t be mad if you were the one who took it. Considering if you should just take the blame in Taeyang’s stead, you respond,

“Sure…?”

“Let’s go upstairs with this, then,” Taeyang suggests. “I know something more fun to do than watching some drunk people play twister.” Assuming he wants to get even more drunk with you, you hesitate. The thought of just the two of you being in a room together alone makes you shiver - and not only in anticipation. However, while you’re still trying to figure out what to say to him, Taeyang already wraps his free hand around your wrist and pulls you along with him, out of the noisy living room. 

“It gives you a headache, doesn’t it?” he remarks as he’s leading you towards the staircase.

“Yeah, the noise is terrible,” you say. You can’t make out his expression after that, as he’s walking a bit in front of you, but with how he doesn’t respond anymore, you feel like maybe the noise was not what he meant.

“Here we are,” he says eventually, opening one of the doors on the second floor.

“That’s Keeho’s room,” you explain.

“So?” Taeyang answers. “What better place to enjoy a secret drink than the host’s room?” You can only let out a short laugh, before you follow him inside and you sit down at the foot of Keeho’s bed. The guy who dragged you here closes the door and then walks over to you, about to open the bottle in his hands.

“Wait - what if it overflows?” you warn him, and Taeyang stares at you for a long moment, probably considering the possible consequences of that. Then he returns his attention to the bottle, and opens it anyway. You’re about to scold him, but when the only thing coming out of it after removing the cap is some smoke, the tension leaves your body. You would’ve usually yelled at him for this anyway, but drunk you doesn’t see the point of wasting your energy on that when nothing bad happened in the end. 

“Oh, but… we forgot the cups,” Taeyang remarks, and you shrug before taking the bottle away from him.

“Whatever,” you mumble and you take a sip of the wine. It has a slightly sweet flavour, suiting your taste perfectly, and you enjoy the feeling of the fizzy liquid filling your mouth and the sparkles dancing on your tongue. “This is good,” you eventually say, giving the bottle a fond look before Taeyang takes it back. You’re about to complain when he brings the opening to his mouth, his lips touching the glass just where yours were mere moments ago, but your attention is drawn to his throat as he takes a sip and you can see his adam’s apple move as he swallows the alcoholic liquid. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” you question. 

“What do you mean, what am I doing? What does it look like I’m doing?” Taeyang answers and shoots you a questioning look.

“I mean-… both of us drinking from the same bottle?”

“Oh, you want the wine all to yourself?” he assumes and takes another sip of it. However, before you can deny his guess, he’s already lowering himself and you feel his lips being pressed against yours. He puts his hand behind your neck and as he parts your lips with his tongue, he tilts your head back a bit, so he can pass on the alcohol from his mouth to yours. You swallow it without thinking, and then you meet his tongue with yours, kissing him back while the aftertaste of the wine still lingers. Only when you part do you realize what just happened, and you turn away from him somewhat awkwardly. Taeyang doesn’t say anything. He merely straightens his back and then takes a few steps away from you, while drinking some more of the wine. Unsure how to react now, you merely bite your lower lip and let your gaze drop to the bedsheets underneath you. You remember once again how he called out your name, and mixed with the lingering feelings that the kiss left you with, it’s getting harder and harder for you to deny your attraction towards him.

“You know,” Taeyang eventually breaks the silence. “The way you’re always glued to Keeho… it pisses me off.”

“Huh?” you turn your head to find him still standing a few steps away from you, but the gaze he meets your eyes with makes your skin crawl. 

“That guy is all over you all the time, it’s like he’s not leaving anyone else any space to even talk to you,” he explains, but the question mark above your head just grows. 

“He’s a friend,” you argue. Taeyang comes closer to you, leaving the bottle on Keeho’s nightstand. 

“I know,” he says, frustration reflecting in his voice. “I still don’t like it.”

“Are you… jealous of him?” you dare to ask, and you almost regret it when Taeyang throws you a sharp look in response.

“What if I am? Would you not be jealous if I always had another girl around me at all times?” His question hits something inside of you, something you didn’t know existed - or maybe it’s something of which you denied that it existed. You stand up abruptly and you open your mouth to say something back, but instead, Taeyang is faster again. He lets his gaze wander your body and his eyes narrow as he takes in the red color of the dress you’re wearing.

“And the fact that he was the one who told you to wear this dress… makes me want to rip it off.” You think your ears are tricking you for a second, until he makes eye contact with you, and the expression on his face tells you that there’s no way you misheard him. 

“Th-this shit was expensive!” you yell at him, as if you had completely missed the point of his words. He steps closer to you, and he extends his hands slowly, until they’re resting on your shoulders, his fingers barely grazing your skin and the fabric of the dress. He leans in so his mouth is right next to your ear.

“I’ll take it off carefully then…” he mutters barely audible, and you feel a shiver running down your spine. You’re unable to think of an answer to give him, so you decide to let your body do the talking, and when you lift your arms to rest your hands against his chest, you notice the exact moment he sucks in a deep breath and then holds it. You feel his gaze resting on you, and his eyes taking in the sight of you once more, before he lets one of his hands wander to your back in order to open the zip on your dress, all while never taking his gaze off of you. You know you’re in a position where he will notice every oh so tiny change of body language or expression from you - but for once, you’re more than okay with that. You’re not sure if it’s because of the alcohol or because it’s something that he did to make you suddenly feel much more comfortable around him, but you cannot think straight for long enough to come to a conclusion anyway, as he tilts your head upwards with his other hand and kisses you again. You fall into the rhythm of him moving his soft lips against yours immediately while all your thoughts disappear, and the way he hungrily slips his tongue past your lips again sends another shiver throughout your whole body. Feeling you reacting this strongly to him, his kiss only becomes more eager, and you’re starting to think that you weren’t the only one here who’s been harbouring secret feelings for the other for quite some time. 

When you part, he slides the dress off you - carefully, just like he promised - and when you now stand in front of him in only your underwear, he scans you from top to bottom again, and his lips slightly part at the sight. You feel a bit embarrassed by the way his stare won’t leave your exposed skin, so eventually you cup his face with your palms and pull him towards you, so you can kiss him again, forcing him to tear his gaze away from your body for at least a little while. Once he breaks the kiss, he pushes you backwards onto the bed, crawling on top of you. Your hands automatically find his arms to hold onto once he’s hovering above you, and you pull him closer to connect your lips once again. You keep kissing like this, tugging and tearing at clothes until eventually they’re scattered all over the floor, and only when you’re sitting in front of him, both of you completely naked, do you stop him in the middle of making out with you.

“Are you sure we can do this here?” you ask, breathless. You can barely finish your sentence, before Taeyang presses another kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Why not?” he breathes.

“It’s Keeho’s bed after all…” you argue, and the guy in front of you cups your face with his hands, before letting his fingertips dance their way down your body, eventually resting them on your hips. You let out a shaky breath upon feeling his warm touch, and you shoot him another look, as if to remind him of your question.

“So what,” he simply states, before kissing you again, more intensely this time. Your hand finds its way up into his hair, and you pull him closer to keep him from breaking the kiss too soon. Still, once you’re forced to part for some air, you whisper,

“We can’t do this on his bed…”

“Do what?” Taeyang pries and you can’t believe he’s making you spell it out.

“Have sex,” you eventually say, and a satisfied glint shows in his pupils. Then, he uses his body weight to push your back into the sheets, and his lips find their way to your neck to trail kisses down to your collarbone. His hands reach yours, interlocking fingers, while his mouth wanders further south, kissing and nibbling on the skin on your breasts, and when you feel his hot tongue as a contrast to the chilly air around you on your nipple, a moan escapes you.

“You’re much more beautiful like this anyway,” he mutters, and adds under his breath, “You don’t need that stupid dress.” You moan again, finding yourself agreeing with him - that his attention is much better than Keeho’s approval for wearing a dress he likes on you. And so you squeeze his hands in yours, wiggling closer to the touch of his lips, and eventually Taeyang comes back up to share another passionate kiss with you, while one of his hands lets go of yours and he slips it between your legs. Another moan escapes your lips when you feel him dragging a finger up and down between your folds. He watches every single one of your reactions closely, but the way his intense stare won’t leave your face makes you feel the need to turn away from him, even if just for a second, and you find yourself conflicted about whether you want to show him the effect his touch has on you, or if you’d rather hide it. However, when he slips his finger inside you for a moment and another moan falls from your lips, you must realize that even if you want to, you won’t be able to hide anything from him. 

Your heavy breaths are getting quicker, and your torso rises and sinks, while Taeyang scatters kisses all over your chest. His fingers are pumping in and out of you at a steady pace now, and too soon his movements halt and he removes his hand from your core. A sense of deprivation overcomes you and you whine, but once you look down on his toned body, you can see the reason for his actions. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers as he lets his eyes wander your figure once again, and he positions himself between your legs, before pushing into you. Fingers interlocking once again, he makes eye contact with you to check if you’re feeling comfortable, and when he can find nothing but lust and pleasure reflecting in your pupils, he starts rolling his hips into yours. 

Maybe he’s a little too eager about it again, but at the same time you wouldn’t want him to stop for anything in the world. He connects his lips to the skin on your throat again, except that this time, you can feel his teeth grazing your skin in between kisses as well. Your fingers clench around his hands more and more with each time he slips almost all the way out of you, only to reach just a little deeper with every time he slams his hips back against yours, and you’re sure that by now, there must be several marks of your nails on the backs of his hands. And at the same time you can hear his groans right next to your ear, causing you to leave yet a few more of those marks.

“Y/N,” his strained voice calls out to you, and you feel another rush of adrenaline overcoming your whole body from that alone. “Be mine.” The words hit you right where you would usually feel your emotions bubbling up whenever you even so much as look at Taeyang, except that this time you neither have the ability nor the will to hide it. And so, you can’t answer with anything but a moan, and his name falls from your lips multiple times as you feel your high approach. Only a few more thrusts of his, and you’re coming undone underneath him, with your mind filled with nothing but him, and the blissful feeling of cumming around his hard cock. With another groan, he too cums inside you, and you can feel him filling you up, before he collapses on top of you.

You stay like this for a while, waiting for both your minds to clear up from the emotions that came with your orgasms, and after a while of feeling his weight on your body, you realize that the effect of the alcohol has started to fade as well. Your mind begins to replay everything that just happened, and eventually you mutter, while still staring at the ceiling,

“I’ll be yours.” Taeyang props himself up on his elbows upon hearing your words, and he takes a long look at your face while he’s hovering above you. Then, as if he had finally processed the meaning behind your words, his expression softens and he leans in to press his lips gently against yours.

“Good,” he whispers, merely an inch above you, so you can feel his breath on your skin. “I’ll be yours too.”

[cornyonmains]

Decided to read the novel for My Stand In, which is titled Professional Body Double. I'm a little disappointed with some of the changes the show made. Needless to say, novel spoilers ahead, though I won't touch on anything that hasn't happened in the show, as I'm only halfway through the book. Anyways, on to my first beef with the show.

One of the most informative aspects of Joe's character was changed. In the novel, Joe had also never been on bottom before, but that wasn't because he was holding out for someone special. At the beginning of the novel Joe is fielding offers for threesomes, the guy's been around the block and doesn't have a huge attachment to his virginity. Joe's character never bottomed because he'd quite simply never gotten the offer thanks to his more masculine looks. What makes this even more depressing is you find out that he thought it might have been his preference in the first place, but Joe being Joe, advocated about as well for himself during sex as he did anything else.

I think it was unwise to switch things up the way they did, because it really does explain a lot about why Joe was willing to suffer so many indignities to be with Ming. Joe asked for very little from the people in his life and didn't get it. Joe never really stood a chance when Ming came along and started giving him what he wanted.

Another thing I thought it was a shame the show didn't highlight is that in the novel, there's a fairly considerable age gap between Joe and Ming. Ming is 20 and Joe is 30. This actually offered a lot of explanation as to why Joe ignored a lot of Ming's red flags. He didn't ignore them, he just chalked a lot of it up to Ming being young and spoiled. But that's not to say the novel lets Joe off the hook.

Joe was, and I truly do lack a better word to describe this, completely servile to Ming. In the novels he waited on him hand and foot, created no real sexual boundaries with him, and preferred placating Ming's temper over challenging it. He was willing to meet any conditions for them to be together.

Ming's character progression is something I wish the show could have found a way to depict. Because during this time, Ming's development wasn't stagnant. What Joe had right, to an extent, was that Ming was young and still learning how to process his feelings. Towards the end of their first relationship, Ming had managed, for the most part, to regard Joe as completely distinct from Tong, and not just as a replacement. It's heavily implied he was in love with Joe, but just didn't know how to process these realizations that kept coming to him in piecemeal.

Ming liked the happy and relaxed environment he had with Joe in his condo, he was convinced nobody would ever be as sexually compatible with him as Joe, and he'd actually wanted to support him the first time Joe came home completely exhausted from set, but didn't say anything about it until he fucked up. Ming, who ran away to America as soon as he realized he was gay, did what Ming always did, he was quietly processing things, and was too young and stupid to give Joe a clue. He took for granted that Joe would be, in HIS words, obedient and docile.

The author of this, Shui Qian Qeng, is so good at writing gay toxicity it's stupid. It made me wonder if they're part of the community, but we don't speculate in this house, it's just a passing thought I had due to how nuanced the depiction of sexual confusion in this book is, particularly with Sol's character. Sexual confusion in BL tends to play very formulaically on screen. Existential crisis, a few heartfelt conversations, one cursed episode, a kiss at the end of the season, and everyone lives happily ever after. In the novel, Sol struggles for years, and is still processing his sexuality in an unhealthy way because the 'I'm straight, but only gay for this one guy in particular' trope so often used in BL is used in this novel, but to convey denial and sexual struggle. Upon Joe's death, Sol is still saying he's straight, but that Joe's the exception. This is treated with much deserved skepticism. Shui Qian Qeng, as a queer person who knows you're not reading this, bless you for that. I so desperately wish Sol's story would have been better adapted for the show.

To wrap things up on a lighter note, I also found out by reading this novel that tops and bottoms are referred to as ones and zeros in China. And my sheltered Midwestern ass was like, "Well that's rude." because one of them was a zero. Then I was like, "Well why would someone refer to themselves as a zero? That's not healthy." Then I started thinking about what the numbers looked like, 0 and 1, and was like, "Oh." It was an emotional rollercoaster.