#I feel like. I am about to pass out possibly.

[finelinevogue]

Hi i was wondering if you could write an aaron hotchner fic where the reader gets really bad anxiety and Hotch is always there for them? Maybe like established relationship?

“drop the sir”

yes yes yes - my new loml aaron hotchner <3

cw: i guess this is shy!reader | anxiety | reader scratches their hands | she/her pronouns used | no established relationship sorry! i wanted this to be a developmental thing

word count - ~1.5k

The first time that Aaron noticed your anxiety was on your first day at the BAU.

He had remembered you from the internship programme where he had shown you around the place. One afternoon with you and he had known that you deserved a place amongst the team here. It was no surprise that 6 months later - after your internship - that you were hired full-time.

You had walked into the BAU, bag hanging on your shoulder and you had clasped it like it was your lifeline.

Aaron had noticed you all the way across the room from his office. He had been speaking to Reid, but soon paid no attention to what the genius was saying as he watched you nervously look around the room like you were out of place.

He'd gone over to you instantly, wanting to be the first person to reach you.

"Y/N?" He had asked, holding out his hand for you to shake.

It didn't go unnoticed the slight tremble to your hand as you reached out to give his a shake, accompanied with a nervous smile.

"Agent Hotchner, Sir." You nodded.

"You might wanna drop the 'Sir', it'll go straight to his head otherwise." Garcia said in passing as she walked past you both.

You chuckled as you shook your bosses hand. He had a firm grasp. They were firm and calloused, but somehow made you feel like you were in safe company. After he let go you felt disappointed, although you still had the pleasure of looking at him - standing in front of you in a clean suit and his hands in his trouser pockets.

"She's right." Aaron smirked, before resetting to his normal stoic face.

"Am I in the right place?" You asked.

"If you're asking that question then I'm afraid we might've hired the wrong person."

"O-oh, no.. I-"

"I'm joking." He gave a small smile, making you breath out a sigh of relief. You really hadn't wanted to get fired on your first day.

Luckily for you, Aaron had caught onto the fact you were nervous and made sure you knew he was only teasing you. The last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uneasy. Starting a new job was difficult, he knew that, and nerves were high - he wanted to make sure that you felt as comfortable as possible whilst settling in.

"Didn't realise you made those." Garcia said, walking passed again.

"Garcia, don't you have a job to do." Aaron said, using his usual frowny face unlike the one he'd been using with you.

"Yes, Sir." Garcia said, walking away with a smirk.

"Welcome to the BAU."

💼 . 🎞️ . 💼

It wasn't until someone brought you up in conversation that he thought about your shyness for the second time.

"So what do you think of the newbie?" Morgan asked, making a coffee. Aaron seriously questioned whether Morgan actually did any work around here seeing how often he caught him hanging around the coffee machine.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah."

Aaron looked out of the break room kitchen and across the room to where you were sat at your desk.

It had been a week since you've joined and you'd been really involved with helping with paperwork so far. Your supervisor had been teaching you various bits of information throughout the week, but Aaron was wondering whether they were wasting your capabilities by having you stuck at a desk constantly.

He'd also noticed how quiet you were.

You never initiated conversation at someone else's desk, only ever if they came to you first. You never left your desk for random breaks, you just kept your head down and did your paperwork. He'd seen you in the break room maybe once and that was only to make a drink.

"Shy." Aaron responded. "Quiet."

"Reid said she's done twice as much paperwork as Catherine and she's been here 5 weeks less than Catherine."

"Well, Catherine is a waste of space." Aaron said honestly, causing Morgan to choke a little on his coffee from his bluntness - not that he disagreed.

"Well what do you think?"

Aaron turned from watching you chew on the ends of your pen to face Morgan, who had been watching him the whole time instead of you.

"I think she'll be interesting." Morgan smirked into his coffee.

"For what?"

"No, buddy." Morgan patted Aaron's back. "For who?"

Morgan left the room with Aaron frowning in confusion.

You'd be interesting for who?

💼 . 🎞️ . 💼

Aaron was known to have a quick temper, but no one had seen him quite like this.

"Missing files!" He shouted around the room. "No one is leaving this building until someone can tell me where they are."

Aaron ran a stressed hand over his jaw.

The room was silent except for the humming background noise that the air conditioning was making. People were nervous to look at their boss, much less look up from where they were hiding against themselves.

You in particular were shaking like a leaf in the wind.

You had covered your sweater over your hands to stop the urge to scratch away at your hands - as you often did when your anxiety spiked. Your hands were often scabbed, scarred and quite frankly... ugly from where you'd subconsciously scratched away at your skin. A habit that had stemmed from younger years.

"Who was working on the New Orleans case last?" Aaron asked.

Everyone was silent - no one dared to speak up.

A pit dropped in your stomach. You had been working on those files a couple of weeks ago, maybe even in your first week of the job. Catherine had been helping you organise a bunch of files and you'd spotted a mistake in the paperwork for the New Orleans case. She had said to leave it to one side and that you could come back to it later. You'd assumed the paperwork had been changed, corrected and put back but now you're not so sure.

"Anyone? Someone must have?" Aaron asked again, his patience wearing thin.

"Y/N was, Agent Hotchner." Caroline spoke up from where she was stood near you.

Your heart went then, pounding against your chest. Your mouth went dry and you could feel your body start to heat up.

There was a part of you that wanted to bring Caroline down with you, but you were only new here and you were terrified of stepping on anyone's toes. You hadn't even chatted with anyone in the break room yet in case you started chatting to someone who didn't want to talk to you.

You looked around the room, lots of faces staring back at you.

You felt like you were going to stop breathing. The situation was far too overwhelming.

Worst of all was when you looked at your boss. He sighed as he looked up at the ceiling in stress before he returned his gaze to you.

"Y/N. My office, 5 minutes."

As soon as Aaron walked off and back to his office the rest of the room started up with hushed conversations. You could feel people looking at you, probably for the last time since you were no doubt about to be fired.

It was embarrassing.

You didn't dare sit back down at your desk, afraid you'd get told off for that.

Caroline gave you a pitying look as if to say 'should've-been-more-careful' and in the deepest of your heart you really wanted to call her out on it. It was her mistake too and she'd been training you. It seemed a little unfair to pin this all on you.

Nevertheless you walked your way slowly towards Aaron’s office.

Your hands unwound themselves from your sleeves and your right one started scratching the skin on your left one.

You only notice when you start scratching, not the continuation of it so it quickly dropped out of your mind that you were doing it.

You knocked on Aaron’s door twice.

“Come in.”

You made your way inside, shutting the door behind you and coming to stand in front of his desk.

He was sat in his chair behind his desk, paperwork everywhere. It looked chaotic and disorganised - much like he was probably feeling.

Aaron looked at you with his piercing eyes, no doubt profiling his way through this situation.

You tried to maintain eye contact but you lasted all of three seconds before your eyes turned to your hands - which were now red raw from the scratching.

“I need you to quit that.” He spoke in a neutral tone.

You looked up at him, eyes a little blurry from where the tears wanted to fall but you refused to let them. You nodded in understanding.

“Sure.” You swallowed the hard lump in the back of your throat, “Would you like be gone by the end of the day o-or, like, in ten minutes time, because I can pack my stuff up in –.”

“Y/N.” Aaron tried to cut in.

“—a few minutes. I just need to…”

“Y/N.” Aaron stood up.

He rounded the desk and stood a mere metre in front of you. You braved to look at him and noticed how sad his eyes looked. Those sad brown eyes looked at you so softly, whilst his eyebrows couldn’t decide whether to furrow or stay straight.

That’s when you noticed his hand outreaching towards yours, ever so slowly with an almost hesitation.

“Stop, please.” He said very quietly.

You looked down to where his hands were meeting yours and you understood what he had meant now. He hadn’t meant quit quit, he had meant quit scratching your hands.

“Sorry.” You quickly held your hands down by your sides, refusing to draw more attention to it.

Aaron’s hand retracted, but some part of you wondered what it would have felt like if his skin had touched yours again.

Would it have felt as warm as you remembered? Or would it feel more electric this time?

The room was quiet but you knew Aaron was waiting for you to speak.

“Agent Hotchner, um.. Sir.” You cleared your throat before looking at his eyes, so he could tell you were speaking the truth, “I didn’t lose those files, Sir.”

You stood your ground, not allowing your anxiety to take over this conversation.

Aaron nodded his head.

“I know.” He said with a small smile.

“You do?”

“Dr Reid messaged me somewhat 30 seconds before you came in here, notifying me that the files were found in the paper bin closest to Caroline’s desk. They’d been filled out and filed incorrectly, am I right?” He waited for you to nod before continuing, “And you spotted the mistake? Caroline pulled the files to the side, I assume and made it look like you’d messed up.”

“Yes. Sorry, yes Sir.”

Aaron nodded his head.

“Y/N, why did you let Caroline use you like that?” Aaron asked, crossing his hands over his chest.

You looked down, ashamed with yourself.

“I don’t know, Sir. I guess, maybe it’s because I’m still new here?”

Aaron made his way back around his desk, allowing you to breathe without his shadow enveloping you. It was a weird thing to note that you sort of missed his near presence though.

He made his way to sit back down, leaving you standing with nothing to say or do.

Aaron picked up the phone and dialled in his assistant.

“Hi, yeah. Could you let Caroline know I want to speak to her in my office in ten minutes. Mhm. Yeah. Yeah, no, tell her it’s to do with her redundancy.”

You tried not to gasp or looked shocked when Aaron put down the phone abruptly, but hearing that Caroline was being fired for her mistake was quite the turn of events. She was no doubt going to think you tattled, too, when actually in fact Aaron is just a damn good profiler.

“You’re free to get back to work, Y/N.” He gave you a curt smile.

“T-thank you.”

You gave him the best smile you could, before you turned to walk out of his office.

You could feel his gaze on you but you didn’t turn until he called your name a final time.

“Y/N?”

“Sir?”

“You’re doing a good job here. Keep it up, just drop the Sir - It’s Hotch.”

Both you and Aaron were smiling as you left the room.

💼 . 🎞️ . 💼

[BONUS]

You started the day by finding a gift bag on your desk.

Looking around the room you tried to catch someone’s attention to figure out who was behind this. Was it some cruel prank or was it a real gesture? Ever since Caroline had been fired people had been nicer to you, almost thanking you for initiating her leave.

Before unpacking your bag or even taking off your coat you removed the tissue paper from the bag and unwrapped the small box inside.

You came across a small white box, rectangular in shape with cellophane wrapped around it.

You turned the box over until you noticed the name and contents; ‘Smoothing Hand Cream - Sensitive & Kind to All Skin Types’.

There was only one person who could have bought you this.

You quickly turned to Hotch’s office and saw him standing at his door with a coffee in hand. He nodded at you and gave you a smile with teeth - something that was very rare.

Something that was more meaningful than a tube of hand cream.

[noxitsnox]

if we get too closе, would it be okay?

hyun-ju x gn!reader - highschool au

summery: hyun-ju came out to her- now ex- girlfriend who spread the rumor around the whole school.

tags: trans/homophobia (the word tr**ny is used one (1) time), bullying, hurt/comfort, lots of fluff i promise, let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: i am obsessed it's not fair. this is pre-t but i'm still going to use she/her pronouns for hyun-ju <3 also english is not my first language and this isn't proof read, so i apologize for any mistake. @exactlyinfp

hyun-ju didn't want to go to school that day. her girlfriend, ex girlfriend now, broke up with her just because she trusted her, because she didn't want to hide anymore and she believed that her girlfriend of almost two years would understand. but she didn't. she called her all kind of names and blocked her everywhere.

she hoped this was where it ended. that they could just ignore each other and keep living life as it is. it would have been so much easier that way. but the moment she entered the school hallway she knew something happened. the looks she was getting were strange, full of hate. definitely not the looks you receive when you just broke up. she tried to ignore it and walked to her class with her head down.

it was early. a lot of time passed before some of her classmates entered the room. maybe it was better if they stayed outside. their chatter died down as soon as they saw her. one of them, who was seated next to her, took his desk and dragged it as far away from her as possible. “you're sick”, he said under his breath. “stay away from me.”

she stayed silent as the realization hit her. if he knew, everyone else did too. fighting tears, she forced herself to keep cool.

slowly people filled the room. everyone ignored her, even her so called friends looked at her with disgust. only y/n seemed to be acting as if nothing happened. maybe they didn't know about it yet. they’ll turn their back to you like everyone else, she thought.

“oh hyun-ju, how are you?”

y/n waited for an answer that never arrived. so, with a sad smile, they spoke again. “it's fine. you don't have to talk with me. you have my number in case you change your mind.”

———

for the rest of the week she ignored everyone. she was barely alive.

every morning she entered school feeling like a criminal. her locker in the changing rooms was filled with insults. some guys even tried to push her on the ground. that was the only moment she reacted. she could ignore words, but physical aggression was were she drew the line.

every night she cried herself to sleep, wishing she had someone on her side, someone to talk to. her family didn't know about what was happening in school and she hoped for it to stay that way or she wouldn't even have a home anymore.

it was on saturday afternoon that she lost it. she was out, getting some groceries for her mother at the local market, and she saw her ex with her friends. she tried to hide before they could notice her, but she wasn't fast enough.

"oh god, isn't that that tranny you used to date?", one said pointing at her.

"don't say that out loud, please. what will people think of me?"

hyun-ju ran away without even taking food from the market stall. she kept running until their voice became indistinguishable echoes.

she sat on the side walk and took out her phone, looking for y/n contact. she started crying, the tears blurring her vision.

their words came back to her. you have my number in case you change your mind. were they serious? she hesitantly called them, hoping for the best.

y/n didn't take long to answer and for that she was grateful.

"hey, you called!"

"i- yes... listen can you, can you come here?"

"oh hyun-ju, you're crying? is everything okay?"

"i don't even know anymore. please, just come here." and with that she hung up the phone, quickly shared the position with them.

she hugged her knees as she waited.

———

y/n was happy that hyun-ju called, even if the situation wasn't ideal. even though they weren't intimate, they cared about her and it made them sad to see her suffer. especially if she was being ridiculed for something beyond her control.

y/n tried to get to her as fast as possible. they went out in their sweats without bothering to put on something nicer. they didn't like the idea of hyun-ju seeing them in that state, but they also realized that they had to put vanity aside at the moment.

as soon as she saw y/n she got up and hugged. they remained in that position for a while. hyun-ju cried and cried while y/n rubbed her back, doing what they could to comfort her.

"sorry... i don't know why i did that", she said as she let go of them.

"you don't have to apologize. do you feel better now?"

"i do, thanks."

an awkward silence fell until y/n suggested they start walking with a wave of their hand, "do you wanna talk about what's happening?"

"i just want to forget about it. can we talk about something else?"

"oh sure", y/n looked at her and smiled. "do you wanna hear about this manga i'm reading?"

a/n: i realize that for an xreader the reader is barely there 😬 sorry. let me now if you liked it!!

[bekkathyst]

I'm gonna say this and I'm gonna mean it in all sincerity from a longtime follower: I'm really glad you're so open with how things have been since you moved to Austria. On one hand, I do feel like I'm not only supporting a business I have for ages and feel good about that and I'm also supporting folks I care about online into being able to have a good life. And on the other I'm glad, because if you didn't mention the bad stuff I would probably 100% believe you guys moved into the middle of Europe and immediately escaped all the evils of capitalism and integrated into a gorgeous place with lots of history and folklore and ability to forage (!!!!!!!) and I would be so jealous I would possibly die. So either way I'm happy to keep buying your crystals, and also while I am very jealous but I probably won't die of it. Please give your daughter a hug from me, and your husband a high five. :D

Ah 😭 this is really sweet and I’m going to try not to ramble too long but I feel like this is a good thing to discuss, especially right now.

The first couple months of moving here were an insane contrast of like the happiest I’ve ever been in my life and the most stressed out knowing that one wrong move meant we’d have to give it all up and move somewhere else or lose the ability to be together. The immigration process I’ve had to go through to be with my husband anywhere is difficult but it was harder here than what we dealt with in the US only because this is the place we REALLY wanted to be and it was terrifying thinking the chance to be here could just be ripped away. But of course at the same time I was seeing family I hadn’t seen in a decade or longer, I was getting to really connect with my ancestors, be immersed in the culture, forage in the way I’d been longing to do for my entire life, and all the rest. I feel like because of this I just blinked and now somehow it’s been two years.

The nature here is my favorite, and I honestly wouldn’t trade it for anything. But Austria is far from perfect. There’s racism, xenophobia, the bureaucracy has made me question my sanity, some of the social culture really sucks, my business is deeply struggling and I wonder if we can make it due to how high fees and other taxes are, and I will ALWAYS have criticisms for any government I live under lol. Living somewhere very different from where I spent most of my life is really isolating and I feel lonely a lot. And I’m sure however I feel, it’s even harder for Antonio.

But like I said in my post, in the end, this is worth it for us. It’s so hard BUT we get to watch our daughter grow up somewhere where she can have healthcare and a good education and swim in lakes and hike mountains and make so many friends!! Omg she has so many friends. 🥹 and I now have healthcare too for the first time in my life which is really just in time for me to get diagnosed with a bunch of chronic illnesses that I’d never be able to get any help for in the US. And now my husband also has the chance for the first time in his life to pretty much travel anywhere he wants to which is amazing for him.

It must be quite obvious that these are all feelings I’ve been holding in for some time lol. But I can’t believe what lovely human beings follow me on here and support us especially after so long! It’s been almost 12 years since I started all of this and somehow I’m still doing it. Wow. Incredible.

I love you 😭❤️

And here’s evidence of the passed on high five 😆

[theannoyingurge]

Playing with the idea that none of the bg3 villains are fully honest with Durge. Everyone is hiding some piece of the puzzle and happy to abuse the amnesia situation to their advantage. 'Cept Kressa. She's psycho, but she's an honest psycho. In another life, we might have been friends.

Ketheric is the first, most obvious example of this. He doesn't even bother to inform the other Chosen you've reappeared. (Myrkul is the god of exhaustion, so this tracks.)

Balthazar also 100% recognizes you and also doesn't even bother. To him, your amnesia means no tedious reunions with annoying Bhaalspawn who are big mad that he stole their brother's name and rib bones.

The Emperor is sometimes overlooked when piecing together Durge's history, but he admits to knowing your past if you reject him in Act 3 (stating "I know everything about you" while threatening to turn you into a puppet like Duke Stelmane). Whether or not he's posturing, he should at least be aware of your past with Gortash, considering you helped kidnap him in the first place. For evidence, see Gortash's interrogation notes, which open with "When we captured you". (Sure, this could refer to Orin, but I simply do not see these two working as a highly functional team. More on this and the timeline below the cut.) Naturally, despite traveling together for months, The Emperor wouldn't want to fill any gaps in your memory that might cast doubt on his trustworthiness or help align you with his enemy.

The Absolute might be lying about respecting you/your plan and preferring you over your replacement. I am of two minds about this. If you were attacked immediately after crowning the brain, there should be no basis for a preferential relationship. In that case, the brain is just stroking your ego and need for approval. However, I have doubts about Durge being taken down during the initial raid.** I think some time must have passed after crowning the Absolute, giving it the chance to develop a working relationship with you that it lacked with the other Chosen, which caused everything to fall apart after you were tadpoled. This also buys us time to kidnap the Emperor and bring it under the Absolute's thrall as described in Gortash's interrogation notes.

**Some of Gortash's other notes claim Durge was lost during the first raid, but his journals are full of contradictions. He leaves the House of Hope out of his memoirs entirely. He seemingly retcons history to present himself in a more favorable light, which probably includes intentionally diminishing the work of his allies (or erasing the painful memory of his nearest and dearest). In any interpretation, the brain definitely hates Gortash the most, and that's good enough for me.

Orin and Gortash paint somewhat conflicting pictures of you pre-tadpole. The difference here might be genuine (the honest perspectives of a little sister vs a business partner or lover) or it could be a manipulative game of tug of war over your budding and impressionable self image.

Now, I like Durgetash - but I like every possible interpretation of these assholes, not just the mutually reciprocated and/or sexy ones. It's conceivable to me that Gortash may have discovered Durge's crush on him via the Prayer for Forgiveness and played up their history in Act 3 as a defensive measure. Maybe Gortash always knew of Durge's feelings and used them to his advantage (Orin outright tells you this, but again, nobody listens to Orin. Sorry sis).

It's also conceivable that he knew Durge was the first to be tadpoled, considering how close their pod was to his workbench. The brain was given orders to transform the party (that were resisted several times), so Gortash's surprise that Durge still lives makes sense, assuming he even knew Durge was with them (he doesn't seem to be checking the scrying eyes at all. What kind of loser tyrant ignores his own surveillance system? I digress). His general relief and preference for them over Orin is also still valid. (I imagine he feels something along the lines of Durge being the one who got away, you don't know what you've got until it's gone, etc etc. Cue hysterical bonding as the long lost love of his life waltzes into his coronation covered in blood to save him from their psychotic sister and the poorly housetrained Netherbrain they left him full custody of. Yes he wanted full custody, but still.)

Puppy eyes aside, Gortash is a blackhearted pragmatist (he will turn on Durge if they give him the stones) and progress is progress. The first True Soul was an incredible breakthrough, and the show must go on. So just imagine the bricks he's shitting in Act 3 if Durge comes back and remembers the Wrong Things from before the nautiloid. What if they want revenge on him? Nope, not good at all. Best to position himself as Durge's only friend and most trustworthy partner. Regardless of how well he treated them before, Durge was willing to piss off Bhaal to spare his life. That's an extremely useful vulnerability right now, because he's about to ask them to do it again!

Lastly, I have no proof, but I strongly suspect that Sceleritas is fibbing about Durge's past as well. Partly because the Slayer form is severely disappointing in-game and canonically excrutiatingly painful, despite Fel claiming you've always wanted it. It honestly sounds like a way to sell an unwanted used car back to it's amnesiac owner who failed to appreciate it before. Bhaal isn't a full deity any longer, so take what you're given (and you'd better damned well like it!) I also call bullshit on tossing a coin to a beggar being the "worst" crime Durge ever committed against Bhaal (*ahem* looking at you, Gortash). Some dialogue with the Oathbreaker Paladin suggests we've tried somewhat consistently to be good in the past, and Sceleritas has a vested interest in making Durge worse, not planting noble ideas in their freshly lobotomized murder-happy brain.

[pangur-and-grim]

look I'm deleting this so soon, but you can see it for a sec

I met Jorg by accident while hunting for cool rocks in the creek.

My pockets already bulged with stones, the weight pulling my pants dangerously low on my ass, but with the sun high above, I felt plenty ready to continue my search. That is, until I splashed too close to the old bridge.

“I cry your mercy, my peerless paramour,” came a voice like stones and kittens in a shaken bag. It took a moment to parse it as language.

“What?” I said, unfolding from my crouched position in the water. 

“Seekest thou a trinket?” From the depth of shadows under the bridge, I saw two eyes shining like silver coins.

“Uh,” I said. “Just rocks, really. I’m hoping for a fossil, or maybe nice and sparkly to put on my shelf, you know? Or wait, here.” And shaking my hand dry, I shoved it into a loaded pocket, searching by touch for the best of my finds. “Here,” I said, pulling it out, “See how yellow this is? With white banding? I’m fully ignorant about its geology, you might know more than me, but it looks lovely. Like a lemon custard. Would you like to see?”

         A terrible hand unfurled from the shadows. The wind shifted then, and its smell hit me, like freshly dug earth and the salty musk of an overworked horse. I continued to smile politely as I sloshed closer. Under the bridge’s shadow, the summer lost its warmth. 

I placed the rock onto its central paw pad. It struck me, then – I’d forgotten to clarify I’d like the rock back afterward, but now it seemed too late. Fingers closed about the stone. 

“Again, I don’t know much, so apologies if it’s ordinary. I’m actually in an engineering program, so could tell you more about this bridge than what’s under it.”

With my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could now assess the creature. It hunched to fit under the confines of the stone bridge, all pale wormy skin and tufts of colourless fur, with ears that sharpened into points. As the creature brought the stone to its muzzle and huffed, I let my eyes roam the bridge’s underside, searching for something I could comment on. 

Unfortunately, I found it. “Oh, fuck.”

“Trouble, my sweeting?”

“Yeah, you see the cracks there? The bridge’s foundation is crumbling. That’s no good. I mean, not that it’ll collapse at this exact moment, but–“ 

The bridge shook then, as something heavy passed across it at speed. I sloshed out into the sunlight and squinted at the vehicle speeding away: Mr. Manor, who’d renovated the farmhouse across the creek into something modern and flavourless.

“Asshole!” I shouted after the car. Wading back under the bridge, I said, “Sorry about that. Got a bit carried away.”

         It hunched, shivering in the shadows. “Beshrew that rolling waste,” it hissed, and I nodded in agreement. Once again, my eyes adjusted to the dark, and I realized that it was a he.

         “So, not big on clothes, then?” I leaned against a bridge wall, running my fingers along its cracks. “I get that.”

         He grunted acknowledgment, before turning to dig through a heap of rags and trash. When the creature found what he sought, he yipped in delight. “Your trinket, dearworth!”

         Between two taloned claws, he brandished a lump of shiny yellow. 

         “Is that gold?” Despite my waving and stuttering, he kept with his enormous hand held out to me, and so with some nervousness I took the lump. 

The creature radiated heat. Fresh sweat broke out across my chest from our proximity. “Honestly, I can’t possibly accept this.” Though, turning the lump this way and that, I did admire how it caught the faint light beneath the bridge. I could already picture how it might fulfil a similar role on my windowsill.

         “By my troth,” the creature insisted, in his clicking hiss, “It is fitting.”

“I feel like I’m being courted.” I cradled the precious stone like it was an egg that might crack. At his unwavering stare, I blanched. “Am I? You know that I’m a guy, right?”

“A choice sweetmeat,” the creature said, and grinned. He unfolded his long, simian arm, and brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen across my eyes.

Oh, so the creature was a homosexual!

“Be that as it may,” I coughed, feeling my cheeks heat, “I do actually have to go. I promised to do the groceries today. But you know…” And I hesitated, unsure how to broach it. “This is an old bridge. It can’t handle all this modern usage.”

“Aye,” the creature said, in a sad grumble, before perking up. “Pray thee come again?”

“Of course!” I said, a little too eagerly, and then look away in embarrassment. “I mean, always more rocks to find, right? Thank you again, for the. . . thank you!” For a second time, I splashed my way out from under the bridge. Then I turned. “What’s your name, by the way?”

His eyes gleamed like twin moons in the dark. “Jorg,” he rattled. Or possibly ��George’, it was hard to tell.

“See you later, Jorg!”  

Only when I’d waded to the shore and slipped into my waiting flip flops did I allow myself break into a full grin. I didn’t slip the gold into my pocket, instead dancing it between my fingers for the full walk along the roadside, and into the shopping plaza.

Only after I’d entered the No Frills did I realize that a crackling layer of creek sediment coated me from the waist-down,. I grabbed a plastic basket from the entrance stack and, suffering a few glances from the more cleanly folk, began hunting. Dish detergent, paper towels, a bag of honey crisp apples, all bran cereal…even with that repeated mantra, it was hard to focus. My body tingled with the remembrance of the creature’s wafting heat and salty odour. Self-checkout took far longer than it otherwise might, with the woman behind me sighing pointedly, but that hardly mattered.

I stepped into the parking lot with my arms and heart full. Truly, I wasn’t planning on a confrontation, until I saw Mr. Manor's parked car. “Ah, damn.” I said, and turned to head back in.

         The doors slid open for me with a cool puff of air. It felt strange to walk in with bags of purchased produce, like the opposite of stealing, but nobody stopped me.

I found Mr. Manor in amongst the vegetables, fingering a ripe tomato. His face held a similar colour, his cheeks branched with broken veins. 

“Hey there,” I said. He acknowledged me with a polite nod and then tried to turn away, so I stepped in closer. “Hey, I’m a neighbour, sort of. I’ve been away for college, you won’t have seen me around.”

“Okay,” said Mr. Manor. He held his tomato in one hand, and a plastic bag in another. Clearly, he was wondering whether it would be rude to start loading his bag while I still demanded his attention.

“Anyway, so the old stone bridge? I’ve seen you driving over it with, what is that, an electric car? A Tesla?”

“Yeah.” He had shaggy brows, which crept closer together.

“So, the bridge is old, like real old, probably meant for horses and wagons, right?”  

He stared back at me, gripping his tomato.

“You’ve got some kind of mythological creature living under it, did you know?”

“Yeah,” he said, and carefully placed his tomato into the plastic bag. It was a signal to me, that his civility was waning. I cut to the chase.

         “So, I reckon the bridge isn’t meant for the repeated weight of a car driving over it, right? I was under there – “

         “You were under my bridge?”

         “Well, sure, looking for stones, so anyways I saw cracks and stuff? Signs of degradation? And normally I wouldn’t bother you, except you know, you’ve got a mythological creature living under there.”

         “If you’ll excuse me,” said Mr. Manor, and in rapid motions stuffed three more tomatoes into his bag. “You needn’t concern yourself with this any further.”

         The billow of air conditioning, and the gentle misting that kept the bins of assorted greenery hydrated, all conspired to give me energy. 

“You know, the mythological creature, I think he’s a homosexual?” I said, as Mr. Manor tried to quick step away.

         That stopped him. “That’s not something I care about. I mean, my niece is going through a lesbian phase right now, I’ve always been accepting.”

         “I didn’t say you weren’t, only that the bridge probably can’t take the weight of your car over and over.”

         “I always vote left-wing.”

         “Okay, so the bridge, though?”

         Mr. Manor nodded, his face going even redder, and I knew in that moment that he wouldn’t do a thing. My fingers ached from standing with full grocery bags, so I gave up and left the store.

         Outside, the parking lot shimmered in the heat. I squinted, pained by the sun. Even with sweat beading on my forehead, I still altered my route to pass Mr. Manor’s tesla, and lightly kicked one wheel. The motion swung my grocery bags, one of them hitting me in the thigh. “Ow!” 

         The walk home had me regretting the confrontation. My arms and fingers hurt, no matter how I shuffled the bags, and sweat rolled into my eyes and stung them. Walking up my front steps brought some relief, though I grew unbearably annoyed fishing for my keys. Finally, with a click and a creak, the door opened. I dropped the bags in the front hall and stood there, luxuriating in the air conditioning.

         My sister sat in the kitchen, scrolling through Instagram.

“Hey Mary,” I said, and she grunted in response. “You know, there’s some kinda creature living under the bridge?”

“What bridge?”

“Like a fifteen-minute walk away, -ish? Anyway, so his name is Jorg, I think. Or George. Probably Jorg. I think he’s a homosexual.”

“Oh?” Mary looked up from her phone. She’d overloaded her mascara today, so that flakes of it deposited on her upper cheek as she blinked. “Are you interested?”

“Mary, he’s a mythological creature.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m interested.” I considered telling her about the bridge, but she’d probably ask what I planned next. She might even start a social media campaign, and I hadn’t decided to care to that extent. Not yet, anyway.

The next morning, I woke up incredibly aroused. “By God,” I said, staring at my bedroom ceiling. “I need to get back to that bridge!”

My head felt wonderfully empty. I choked down bran cereal, fended off conversational attempts from my mother, and scraped the black mud from beneath my nails with a file. No concern existed, as to when I’d be back at my university program, or how I’d finance it, having thoroughly fucked up my scholarship. Only the careful selection of which shorts and shirt a bridge troll might prefer me in. I’d just settled on a tight-fitting grey number, emblazoned with a wriggling salmon, when the first ambulance drove by. The whine of its siren came first, like the breathless scream of an animal, and then my room flashed red and blue. Then, it was past,

It took 9 minutes of jogging to reach the bridge, and as I panted my way down the country roadside, another ambulance passed, and then a tow truck. I clutched at the gold in my pocket, feeling it take the warmth of my hand.

When I approached the scene, my fears became a solid thing in front of me. A pile of rumble blocked the creek, which, resisting this imposition, climbed its bank to trickle into new paths at either side. Mr. Manor’s Tesla had come close to making it across before the collapse, before falling. It reared like a horse, statically, its back end crushed by centuries-old stones. Mr. Manor himself lay in a wheeled stretcher, seemingly uninjured, though they’d strapped something stupid about his neck. Likely a precaution. His face, red as a tomato, contorted with an anger that he took out, in barks, on the paramedics. While I might have rolled him into the creek, the EMT’s stoically loaded him into an ambulance. 

“Hey,” I called, as they shut the doors, leaving one of their fellows inside with Mr. Manor, “There’s a guy who lives under that bridge!”

A thickset woman with a peeling sunburn looked at me with deep-blue eyes, while her co-worker, a short man, grimaced at her in anticipation of further work.

“Sorry, not a guy,” I corrected, “A mythological creature.”

All the tension left their shoulders. “That’s not our department,” the woman said, scratching at her sunburnt cheek.

“But, I mean,” I spluttered, “You won’t do anything at all?”

“Legally, we can’t. You have to take a special course, we don’t have the credentials.” She spoke with a patience that bordered on kindness, but it didn’t feel as though any of that kindness extended towards Jorg. I couldn’t think of anything further to say, so they left.

The ambulance took off with a silenced siren. Its lights flashed calmly, painting the collapsed stones blue and red in turn. Its sister ambulance, whose occupants hadn’t bothered to step out in my presence, peeled off and followed, leaving me alone with the tow truck.

“Can you move the rubble, at all?” I asked.

The tow-man stood with hands on his hips, surveying. I recognized him from around town, but we’d never spoken. He always kept his grey-streaked hair high in a ponytail.

“Not my job,” he said, “I just gotta get that car out.”

“There’s a mythological creature underneath all that.” I pointed at the rubble, but the man said nothing in response. “I think he’s a homosexual.”

“Hey, my brother’s a gay,” the man said, lighting a cigarette, “It’s still not my job. Don’t even have the right stuff on hand for this.” Then his voice lowered into a indistinguishable grumble, listing all the materials he needed, and the traffic that awaited, and the general progression of his morning. I didn’t listen, but I also tried not to cough on his cigarette smoke, as that might be rude. 

Seeing as nobody else would do a damn thing, I took off my flips flops. Then, I carefully climbed down the bank into the creek, letting the water swallow my feet up to the ankles. Glancing back at the road revealed it to be empty, with the tow truck finally having cleared off. 

“Damn,” I said, “This isn’t my department, either.” Even so, I pried at the piled rubble, lifting small, manageable pieces. These, I heaved into the creek with great frothing splashes. 

“Jorg?” I called at intervals. Each time I stopped, straining for any hint of a reply. I never heard any.

The sun got higher, and hotter, and I ran out of pieces I could lift. Sitting on the creek bank, I wiped my hands dry on a pant leg, then scrolled through my phone to find out whose department this was, exactly.

Broken websites. Links which lead to more links, which lead back to the original page in an ouroboros. Government sites in need of updating. No numbers to call, nobody to email.

In a last ditch, I called 911. “Hey there,” I said, when they asked for my emergency. “So, the old bridge collapsed, close to the No Frills? Off the highway?”

“Sir, we’ve already had people on the scene for this situation.”

“Well,” and I clutched grass between my fingers, tearing it free from the earth. “There’s a mythological creature buried underneath the rubble, is all.”

“We don’t deal with that, sir.” 

“He’s a homosexual, I’m pretty sure.”

“We don’t deal with that, sir.”

“Okay, well there’s got to be someone who does deal with it. Who should I be calling here, what should I do?”

She gave me a web address that I’d already looked at, and then ended the call. “Fuck,” I said, without real passion. The Tesla couldn’t speak, but standing vertically with its ass pinched by rubble, I reckon it would agree with my assessment. 

With the exception of the car, and the bridge, the day seemed perfectly ordinary, all blue sky and pleasant warmth.

A few more handfuls of pulled grass, and then I got back to work, scrabbling over the collapsed bridge and prying at its ruined components. My carefully chosen shirt grew wet with sweat, and as my odour developed, I realized that I’d ran out without applying antiperspirant. “Sorry if I smell,” I said to nobody, as I threw another Victorian-era stone into the creek. Then the bridge shifted under me, and I fell to one knee, scraping my skin. 

“Damn,” I said, shaken. Carefully, I climbed down from the ruin, splashing through the creek to the shore. With the present instability, it could easily shift and crush a leg or a foot. 

“This isn’t my department,” I said to the wreckage. “This isn’t anyone’s department, it seems.” Beads of red trickled down my shin, diluted by the water that still dripped from me.

I rested back on the warm bank, and took out Jorg’s gift, rolling it between my fingers. With my free hand, I scrolled through websites, their links already purple. The gold lump cast reflected beams of light across my touchscreen.

I dialed a few town council numbers, without result. Nobody came, no more flashing lights. Once I thought I heard a scratching, but when I pressed my ear to the piled stone, the only sound was my own ragged breathing. 

Eventually, I went home. 

For a time, I kept the gold on my windowsill, where it sparkled in the corner of my eye, throwing its reflection across my work, demanding my attention and my guilt, until in an angry rush I swept it into my hand and locked it in a drawer. 

When I returned to the creek a year later, having financed my return to engineering though a loan, the piled debris was gone, and something modern and concrete bridged the water in its place. 

Standing at the summit of this new construction, I threw the lump of gold in a glistening arc. It disappeared into the water with barely a ripple, and that was that.

every now and then I go back and read my homoerotic bridge troll story, and it's always like wait, this is kinda good

[niechys]

I am hereby exercise my right to use tape in this jenga tower of writings started by @keferon

I made a fanart of this event once, but didn't have all the components. Now we do.

Rescue mission!! everyone is here!!!

Blurr + Swerve section were made as this comic here.

Which happens after this event here

And on TexAid side, after this Shockwave's mindscape endless Tuesday server from here.

it gets long so all under cut!

------------------

"Let's go over the short version again. So..You and your friend are alien that kind of like living robots?" Blurr said as he pilot Swerve to walk along the corridor.

"Pretty much, yeah. Oh, turn right here" Swerve answered, directing Blurr as they go. Trying their best to not be spotted.

"And you met Jazz"

"Yeah"

"I remembered when he disappeared. You guys met him then you came to Earth?" He repeated what the alien-robot-ghost friend of his had explained earlier.

"Yep, then Shockwave captured me and Prowl"

"Right, Prowl..." Blurr repeated the name, murmured it few more times under his breath.

"Now...Prowl is well guarded...We are gonna need help. Do you happened have a phone?"

--------

Deadlock stop when he spotted the form on the big slab which Ratchet told him were their objective. They were suppose to steal this mech away to save him. Ratchet already went ahead and try to free the mech from all the wiring.

"Do I have to save that guy? He's an Autobot. A very high ranking Autobot"

"I don't know what's that about, kid. But we already promise we'd help Jazz and his friend" Ratchet answered as he disconnected wires and restraints. Trying to call to Jazz inside the cockpit.

"I didn't know his friend was an Autobot" Deadlock still wouldn't move from his spot, but already unsupspaced a couple of guns.

"It seems there are some rats in my lab" A voice called out from above, probably from the room's speaker. They looked up, couldn't see anyone, but one of the high window lit up, a silhouette of a man inside.

"Shockwave..." Ratchet scowl.

The wall to the side burst open. A dark mech. almost as tall as the room was high stepped in. Two black blades in hands, dragging on the floor leaving long marks. Visor glowing maliciously red, hovering, staring, unfeeling.

"You human sure make big toys, huh" Deadlock move to shield Ratchet behind him. The mech slowly stalked towards them.

"Why the fuck is Vortex here..." Ratchet mutter under his breath, looking up, still trying to free Prowl from all the wires.

"Thank you for bringing me more subjects. I see there are more of these aliens around" Shockwave's voice echoing from the speaker. Vortex loomed ever closer.

"Don't worry. I will not damage them too much"

Vortex raise his blade, black massive slab of metal with a sharp cutting edge.

"Autobot or not, looks like I have to get pass you first" A smile tucked at the corner of Deadlock's mouth. He didn't expect to fight the big mech, but it definitely seems like fun.

Ratchet backed away as Deadlock pull out his gun and shot a series of bullets at the hand holding the blade, diverting the aim.

Vortex raised the other blade, swinging it at Deadlock. Deadlock was faster, dodging back and shooting at the bigger mech again although not doing much damage with each round. He still had to back out or sidestepped away from the blade swinging down at him, slamming into the ground.

Another mech dashed into the fray, blocking Deadlock's path. It was smaller than Vortex, colored fiery red and gold.

"Hot Rod!?" Deadlock shouted, surprised. But Hot Rod only shoot flame at him.

"Hey! What the hell?!" He yelled while dodging the plume of flame.

There were no response. Hot Rod didn't even seem to recognize them.

"I can't feel his field. Something's wrong!" Deadlock shouted over to Ratchet. "Could someone else be using his mech!?"

"That's unlikely, but possible for Hot Rod. But no one except Felix can pilot Vortex" Ratchet answered, tearing of the last of the wire connected to Prowl.

When Hot Rod's mech aimed the flamethrower towards Ratchet, Deadlock rushed in, slamming his body into the other mech to get him away from the human. Vortex then step in, slashing at Deadlock who narrowly dodged the strike.

"Ratch! They had to be controlled by one person. Their movement are off!" Deadlock yelled as he still dodging and diverting their attacks. Shockwave may have two mechas on him, but he still couldn't catch up with Deadlock. After all, Shockwave was still, one person.

"Correct. I have control of both the pilots and the mechas" His voice sounded from the speaker. Projecting image on the far wall from cameras inside the cockpit, showing both pilots, Hot Rod abd First Aid, with their helmet on, not being able to move.

"The pilots are in there? Shit!" Deadlock spared a glance at the image while backing from their attack. That means if he attack Hot Rod's mechas, there's a big chance he would hurt Hot Rod. Deadlock didn't like that idea. Vortex seems much sturdier, hopefully Ratchet won't be too mad if he didn't hold back.

"If Shockwave still have control of the mechs we won't be able to get the Autobot out!" He yelled, trying to not bring the fight to where Ratchet was.

"Hold them off a little longer, Kid! I have an idea" Ratchet ran toward the console in the corner, avoiding the fighting mechs. He open up the schematics and controls system connecting to the mechas.

"I'm not much of a technician... but this much I can do" The bioengineer muttered, almost holding his breath as he quickly typing on orders to the console.

"The safety protocol, if activated, will release the pilot and stop the mechas movement. And it should be able to override anything else" Ratchet slammed on the enter key, narrowly dodge a stray piece of metal that flew his way.

Both mechas stopped in mid action, steam expelling from their frames. Both their cockpit opened. Hot Rod almost fell out of the cockpit, saved for Deadlock rushing in to break his fall.

"My head...."

"Hot Rod, you alright?" Deadlock gently let him down to the floor. Hot Rod kept one hand on Deadlock's finger to steady himself.

"I couldn't move all of the sudden and...Shockwave. right! Shockwave was controlling me!!" He tried to look around, to look for Shockwave. He was aware of what was happening, but the release happened so fast.

"Ratchet did something to get you out. We're gonna get our of here" Deadlock picked Hot Rod up, turning to see Ratchet rushing back to Prowl. The hatch on is chest was unlocked and open, he helped Jazz up.

"Are you alright?"

"My head hurts...As soon as I connect I couldn't move...." Jazz was holding his head, one eye squeezed shut.

"We got you now"

"Wait, what about Prowl?"

"I'm here. ..You will need to pilot me. I can't seems to move right now. The connection to my body isn't working." Prowl answered, but couldn't seem to move anything other than his mouth to talk.

"Jazz, don't connect to him yet. We don't know what Shockwave might pull again" Ratchet looked over, then up to the window to Shockwave's lab.

---------------

There was no warning. One second he was in the old base with Vortex, in that endless Tuesdays, running around trying to find a way out, a way to wake up.

The next he woke up. Neural link disconnected right away.

"Vortex?" First Aid called, promptly getting off the seat and taking the helmet off just in case the link took him back.

[Get out. I can't move]

Text showed up on screen. At least Vortex was awake.

"Is he still controlling...Whoa... where are we...?" First Aid swayed, still disoriented, he held on to the pilot chair, looking out the vizor that opened up without actual input.

[Near Shockwave's lab. That's the weird mech they brought in]

"What's going on?"

They were in a big, high ceiling room. Maybe an old hangar. There was a black and white mech lying on a big slap, with some wiring around it, looking like they were just torn off. The mech were odd, not of MECHA design. His face like a sculpture with blue glass eyes. Ratchet was beside the mech and right on the cockpit was Jazz.

Hot Rod's mecha was frozen beside them. But Hot Rod was being held in a hand of another mech near by. The mech was similar to the one lying in the center. It has a face almost like human. And the design was definitely not from MECHA.

Above and behind them was Shockwave in his lab over looking at the space below.

[He was using me and the orange one to fight that guy]

"Felix!!" Ratchet shouted from below. First Aid looked down still confused.

"Ratchet!? What's going on?"

"We are--"

Ratchet's voice was cut by Shockwave's voice coming from the speaker.

"Safety protocol... I see you have manage to release the pilots. It matters not. I can also override it. Just the mechas are enough to take care of your alien friend" Shockwave up in the lab was pressing something on his console as he talked. Overriding the safety again to allow the mechas to move by his control.

[Just get out]

Text blinked on the screen beside him. First Aid look at it, run a hand on the edge of the screen and looked up to Shockwave's lab window above.

"I don't know what's going on. But he's gonna control you again, I won't let him. We are getting you out"

First Aid quickly climbed down the escape chute just as Vortex started moving again. It was slow, rather unlike Vortex. He got to the ground and get clear of the mech before a foot stomp on where he was.

"Ratchet! Why are you here? What..?" He ran toward Ratchet first.

"Felix! We are rescuing our friend. It's a long story, let's just say we need to stop Shockwave from controlling the mechas!"

"Friend...?" First Aid tried to make sense of the situation. Looking at both unusual mechs. Especially the one who still cradling Hot Rod in his hand.

"That one. If we can get that guy up, we could make a run for it. At this point, you might as well come along" Ratchet pointed at the mech still lying on the slab, Jazz on his chest, trying to check inside the cockpit.

"No.. I'm not leaving without Vortex" He balled his hands into a fist. Looking up at the window to Shockwave's lab again.

"What?"

But First Aid already took off running. Ratchet wasn't sure where to, that was when his phone rang.

---------------

"They're here already, getting your friend out, Ratchet and the others. But Shockwave is controlling the mechas" Blurr said, phone still in his hand. "If we can get to Shockwave and stop him, they can rescue Prowl and get out"

"Stop Shockwave...." Swerve felt shivers went up his spine- spinal strut. Just the thought of having to face Shockwave made him scared. His fear was probably felt by Blurr as well. Blurr's hand stroke lightly on the control.

"Hey, you are a big mech. Surely we can do something"

Swerve was starting to feel assured. Blurr was piloting him after all. And right now it was just Shockwave in his lab, he was a mech, he can just...just squish him, may be... The thought made him feel sick, so he drop the thought thread and trust Blurr.

A figure in a pilot suit suddenly appeared just as they were about to turn the corner.

"Wahh!" The pilot point an axe at them, looking rather shaken, a trail of dried blood ran from his nose.

"Whoa!! easy there... why do you have an axe?" Swerve blurted out. Blurr pilot him to stop and held the one remaining hand up.

"I got it from the emergency cabinet. Who are you?..I've never seen this mecha model" the pilot still held his axe in front of him. Swerve recognized him after another look.

"First Aid... you're First Aid, right? I'm Swerve...er..you might not remember me. er...." Swerve realized First Aid wouldn't know this form. He was trying to explain when the hatch opened. First Aid's eyes widen. he almost held his breath when the pilot inside removed his helmet.

"Wait...Blurr??..The..Blurr?? Oh my god, your face..."

"Yeah. I'd like to explain too, but we don't have time. We're going to stop Shockwave, if you're going to stop us-"

"Oh! Are you...with Ratchet then?" First Aid was still unsure. But if these people wanted to stop Shockwave, their interests were aligned. And if they are with Ratchet, then he can probably trust them.

"Ratchet..." Blurr repeated. Swerve quickly chimed in.

"Yes! we are! First Aid, please, trust us. We want to get out of here with our friends, too"

"I... I'm also going to stop Shockwave. His lab is this way, right? He's still controlling Vortex"

"Let's go then. We'll explain everything later. I promise" Blurr said, as he put the helmet back on and the cockpit hatch closed.

-----------------

Swerve's mecha body barely fit the entrance to the lab.

"Shockwave!"

"Hm, oh, your are the other alien" Shockwave turned to look at Swerve, barely reacted at all aside from his remark. "How come you look different now?"

"Release the control. Let them go!" Swerve tried to make his voice sounded scary while Blurr moved his remaining arm to rise threateningly.

"What are you going to do if I don't?"

Below, in the hangar, Vortex and Hot Rod's mecha were still moving, attacking Prowl who still couldn't move. Only Deadlock stood between them, deflecting attacks and dragging Prowl out of the way.

"We will...um....."

First Aid walked out from behind them, axe held high in hands.

"We will release them ourselves" He said, voice colder then he would even believe came out of his own mouth.

"Hm...Why don't you just runaway? You could have just run right now, couldn't you?" Shockwave asked, his one yellow lens peered out the window to the fight below. Still controlling Vortex and Hot Rod's mecha.

"I'm taking Vortex with me"

"You want to take that mecha with you?"

"Yes. Let go of Vortex, now"

"And if I don't? If I have to let others go. I rather keep that one. I would also like to keep you" He turned his attentionn slightly to First Aid, cocking his head a little to the side.

First Aid looked at the console

"....the control goes through here isn't it?" He raise the axe. Hands wider on the handle, ready to strike.

"What are you going to do with that? Kill me?"

First Aid swing the axe into the console. Shockwave stared at him. The yellow lens was unreadable, but it might just be in disbelief.

"Regrettable. You were going to be such a good subject" Shockwave was lifting his mechanical arm. Blurr inside Swerve was getting ready to intervene, maybe grab First Aid and blitz out of there.

Black massive blade pierced into the lab, missing Shockwave by only a hair's breath, cutting him off from the rest of the room. They stared at the blade, First Aid moving a little closer to it. The blade retreated, replace by Vortex's massive metal hand in the gaping hole. First Aid widen his eyes a little, before the surprised expression soften into a weak smile.

In the room below, Ratchet and Jazz stared at Vortex in confusion. Jazz then quickly get back inside Prowl's cockpit, while Deadlock transform and Ratchet readily hopped in.

"You are right on time" First Aid climbed on to Vortex's hand to be picked up.

Blurr and Swerve back out of the room at this point, rushing out to go meet with Ratchet down stairs.

When First Aid was back in Vortex's cockpit, the camera was still pointing at Shockwave's lab. Vortex zoomed in on the axe on the console. A text blinked on.

[Why didn't you put that in Shockwave's head?]

"I was thinking about getting you out" First Aid settled into the pilot seat, heaving a sigh.

[Wuss]

"Hey, look, you can move on your own"

[Yeah. Maybe I tried hard enough and finally breakthrough or something]

"That's great, isn't it. Let's go?"

[We're not wrecking the place?]

"Please? Let's go with Ratchet. We can't stay here, Can't let you get captured again" he put a hand on the control stick, stroked it lightly.

[Like I would let them. But fine, only because you asked nicely and it might be fun later]

First Aid giggle, putting the helmet on. Not realizing that Vortex was thinking about the two odd mechs they saw in that room. Especially the one who was defending Ratchet the whole time. What was it, exactly? It doesn't feel like an AI at all.

But that will be for later.

--------------------

Later.

They all sat down, gathered in an old warehouse near Ratchet's workshop. The effect of adrenaline slowly fade and they all reflected on the event that just passed. They had escaped from MECHA base. Using the night to cover them as best they could. It was a miracle in and of itself that they actually got away with slipping Vortex away to hiding with them.

Hot Rod stood beside some machinery near the center, looking around the warehouse and at everyone. His mecha was powered down off to the side. The three Cybertronian in the warehouse could feel a mix of relief and confusion radiating from him.

"okay...Let me get this straight. ...As straight as it can be, I guess." Hot Rod started. He looked over to First Aid, sitting in a small chair, almost underneath Vortex's hunkered down form. One metal hand reaching low, hovering over First Aid's head in a protective, possessive pose. The Cybertronians could also feel a whole lot of malice oozing out from the empty mecha and couldn't help wonder why this one have its own EM field.

"I and First Aid got back from a mission and got taken over by Shockwave. I remember that part, my head's still killing me. Can't move, can't disengage" He continued, massaging his temple.

"Yeah he also locked me in connection with Prowl. I contacted Ratchet for help before that, but when I connected to him, I couldn't do anything" Jazz pitched in from his corner, still checking on Prowl for missing or broken parts.

"I suspect it was probably because Prowl was connected via hard line and Shockwave was breaking into his system. That's why he could also access the pilot. But it didn't do the same to Swerve" Ratchet explained. Although mostly speculation, most guys nodded.

"Then Ratchet get you pilots out of that control, by some protocol thingies. Have to say we could've just make a run for it from there" Deadlock shot them a look from the opposite corner, trying to not pull out a gun and shoot Prowl. Ratchet stood in front of him, facing everyone else.

"I coulda pilot Prowl and get him out, sure. But we had to be sure I wouldn't get controlled again" Jazz shot back, asm crossed his chess.

"Meanwhile I was in the hospital wing when Swerve showed up with his....uh..?" Blurr started, looking from where he sat on Swerve's leg, leaning on his torso, arm crossed over his chest.

"Holo projection" Swerve added for him. He was sitting a bit off to the side. Projecting his own avatar to sitting on his other leg. His real body still leaned away from Vortex as much as he could.

"His holo projection, right. He asked for help. So I get out to find him got taken apart. He scanned my mecha and transform. That's how he got out of all the wires and stuff" Blurr continued.

"Um..I'm sorry but....you lost me at scanned your mecha" First Aid raised a hand, looking confused.

"Our race can turn into other machines after scanning it" Prowl gave an explanation.

"Right. You guys are aliens... aliens that look like robots. Aliens really exist..." First Aid was still dealing with that fact, mumbling to himself. Vortex above turned his camera around, inspecting each alien robot. That spooked the rest of the human in the room.

"Actually First Aid, I have a question" Swerve raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"You went and put an axe in Shockwave's console to release his control on the mechas, right? Which is freacking risky. The control might never be released instead..."

"Yes. And yeah I know that but I don't think we can make Shockwave release it."

"Uh huh... At least things turned out good. Then Vortex broke into the room by stabbing it from the outside so he can pick you up"

"Yes"

"....But you were in the room with us"

".....Yes...."

".....Who controlled Vortex then?"

"Well...about that..."

After First Aid's explanation, Vortex nodded, with rattling metal noise that sounded too much like laughter. Everyone else looked at the biggest mech in the warehouse, expression showing various degrees of disbelief and fear in some case.

"You're telling me, not only the rumors were all true. But Vortex has been piloting himself all this time, which means, GHOST EXIST!!?" Swerve unintentionally raise his voice.

"AND YOU JUST TOLD ME ALIENS EXIST AND ONE OF OUR ENGINEER HAS BEEN AN ALIEN HOLOGRAM ALL THIS TIME!"

"What have I gotten myself into..." Ratchet pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You also hide a Decepticon in your workshop for god knows how long" Swerve mumbles at Ratchet who shot him down with stares.

"Don't worry, he just made me rescue a high ass ranking Autobot, too" Deadlock said through his teeth, still itching to grab a gun from his subspace.

Ratchet's headache had just gotten a lot worse.

-------------------------

I know they kind of escape easily. but it really is getting long.

[ray935sworld]

Child of divorce

Chapter 5: Italian delusions

Whole AU

"You can't actually be serious" Dani said as he stared at Vale. It had been 3 years now since the accusation and everything started. Dani had assumed he had heard everything now but this - this was something he couldn't accept. He refused to accept it.

"No, no. No. I'm sure of it." the Italian said. "You're - Vale, you accused my husband of having slept with Marc." he said in a serious tone.

He was very serious about everything that happened. He remembered seeing the public accusations against Jorge and feeling how his breath was stuck in his throat for a second.

He didn't believe it. He trusted Jorge blindly. He knew he would never do anything to destroy them and what they had no matter how much self sabotaging and insecurity of Jorge they had to face at the begging.

Years of a love, a child and a marriage had made Dani know Jorge inside and out. So he was confident to say that whatever the article was referring to was a lie.

Not even for a second he had considered it a real possibility, but reading the love of your life allegedly slept with someone else was still a pang to the heart.

It was gone after seeing Jorge panicking sprinting down to him and immediately bursting out "I swear I have never and will never sleep with Marc. Or any Marquez. Or any other man. Or woman. Or person in general! I have never and will never sleep with anyone except you! My husband! Who I love dearly and completly and so much that it makes me look like an idiot"

"It is not my fault you look like an idiot." he shot back with a rich laugh. "Your taste in fashion is doing that on its own already" he watched Jorge's shoulder fall in relief before he leaned down and kissed him "I love you" "Love you too, sweetheart"

Dani bit his lip as he stared at the Italian. He really much wanted to punch the older man. But he had to get to the bottom of this. All of this had stopped making sense the moment he found Marc with tears in his eyes infront of his motorhome sobbing that Vale had left him.

Him and David.

That was the moment Dani had lost the train of thoughts of the Italian completely. He had heard that the two were hitting a rough path. But Dani and Jorge had passed through so many by now that overcoming the pressure a championship battle bought seemed minor.

That was until Marc was a crying mess in his arms, sobbing about Vale calling David a bastard. And then the public accusation followed. Everything just seemed to be getting worst.

He had wanted to give Vale a piece of his mind back then. He was ready to rip him a new one and he would have - But it was Marc, pleading and crying not to confront Vale. Claiming it would just make everything worse, Dani had taken himself back. But now Vale was dragging Jorge - his husband, his family - into this. And that was enough to not stand by any longer.

So now they were here.

"You accused the father of my child to have betrayed me and our baby." Dani stated plainly. "You risked taking my sons father away. You are publicly accusing him of all this. Are you even slightly aware what panic you caused him? You damn well know that the public isn't excatly nice to him, you asshole. So why are you throwing him unnecessary to the wolf?"

He watched Vale gather his thoughts, clearly taking everything in. It took him a few seconds. But eventually he took a deep sign. He looked at the younger rider with a very serious expression.

"Dani, you are very dear to me. I appreciate our friendship and I am sorry that he keeps lying to you. They should be honest with us and just confess-" "I swear to God I will break your nose if you keep spilling that crap" "It's not crap!" "It is!"

Dani felt a little bit like he was arguing with his son. Except even Pedro could understand and see reason.

"Listen, Vale-" Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. He told himself. He needed to get to the bottom of this. "Why do you think David is not your biological son?"

"I- Fucking hell, Dani! Come on, you're one of the smart ones! Don't tell me you can't see it?" "Explain it to me." "Well first off, he was acting weird. Like this whole fucking time! And he was always hanging around you, Jorge, Dovizioso. Especially after a podium and stuff. He was way too close and touchy. Oh and with the Espargabros! Especially that Pol guy. They definitely had something going on."

Dani internally praid that whatever God was the right one would give him enough strength to this conversation.

"So you are telling me - a rookie and then newly crowned, pregant baby champion, that had a kid at 20 with literally his childhood hero, all while continuing to keep being on top in literally one of the most elite and dangerous sports in the world, was not acting like any other normal, rational human being? Because everyone else of us is 'normal'?"

He stared at him, hoping that the indicatory in his voice were everything Vale needed to realize what the younger Spaniard was trying to point to.

An excited nod later, Dani had to discover that he couldn't be more wrong.

"And because he was enjoying some time with his coworkers and making jokes, hugging them - he definitely slept with them?" "Yes! See?! Now you get it."

He stared at Vale, trying to remember that Jorge had made it a strict point to raise Pedro without violence. And he was sure that even if Pedro wasn't present right now, his husband would include smashing someone's head against a table in that statement.

"Okay, look-" he said, taking out a few pictures. He had to change tactics. He had hoped that he didn't had to use but well. "That's Pedro when he was 4 years old." "Very cute" "Thank you. David is around the same ago now."

He put another picture on the table only for Vale to scoff and take it in his hand. He turned it around and put it down. The picture of David, smiling happily in the camera was now facing the table, impossible for them to see.

Dani started at the gesture for a second then took the next photo out. "That's Jorge when he was 5. As you can see, he and Pedro look very similar-" He turned David's picture around, this time keeping his hand on it, to make sure Vale couldn't avoid facing his son even if it was just on paper.

"But Jorge and David look nothing a like. There are no similarities. No shared features. He looks completly different because they don't have matching DNA. Because they are not related."

"I am sure Marquez has whored enough around that he maybe even sure himself who the father is." "Now you're just straight up being rude." he shot back. "You don't know what to say so you're being an asshole to cover it up."

Before he could get another word in, he laid out the next and last picture. This time it was one of Luca. He was looking directly at the camera, his head slightly tilted, seemingly confused. He couldn't be older than 4. Vale seemed surprised but then rolled his eyes.

"Just - Look. Your own brother has so much similarities to David. The same smile. The same freaking head shape. And eyes and nose. Both have the same face. Just like you! Now look at them and tell me you really can't see the connection!"

Vale bit his lips. He looked from one picture to the other. For the first time since everything went down he looked at David. He looked at the boy properly. It was a picture only taken recently, David at 4 years old, playing in a parc. He was smiling, laughing.

Luca had taken the picture on one of their adventures together.

Vale stared at David for a long moment. Then he looked at the picture of Luca. Vale had taken the picture on one of adventures together when he had taken his brother to the local playground.

"You're right" he silently agreed and for a moment Dani was sure he was mistaken. "They do look a like. I - Of course. It explains so much-"

His voice was picking up.

"Why Luca was so distance after 2015. Why he kept going back to that asshole and the little bastard - He is David's father!" he exclaimed and with no hesitation as if he had spoken a widely known fact.

"The fuck you just said?" Dani asked, wondering if he just had a stroke or something.

"Look at the similarities! Just like you said! Luca is his father!" "Luca - Your -" He really didn't even know what to say to that. And hearing Jorge spill the most crazy thoughts ever since they've known each other made him think he had already heard everything.

"You're aware that Luca was just over 16 when David was conceived. Right?!" "Yes! So he was easy to manipulate. Poor boy and now he is stuck as a father to-"

And with that, Vale had managed to do what Jorge until now had failed to do. He found Dani's breaking point. The point where he lost his cool and was running out of patience at once.

Around half an hour later, Jorge got a call. He smiled when he read Dani's contact name and the picture to it. It was Dani, sitting in their garden with a newborn Pedro in his arm, grinning in the camera.

"Hola mi corazon" Jorge said, his voice filled with joy. "Where are you? Our little baby is-" "AM NOT A BABY!" he heard Pedro yell from what sounded like the other end of their home.

"YOU WILL ALWAYS BE OUR LITTLE BABY!" Jorge yelled back. He heard a huffing sound, that could either mean begrudging acceptance or frustration. But since their kid wisely chose not to continue arguing, he returned to the call with Dani.

"Anyway, OUR LITTLE BABY-! is missing his papa and I'm missing my husband. Where are you?" he asked. "I miss you too. I'm sorry but I will need some more time"

"Promise me not to freak out-" But this was never a good sign. "What did you do?" he asked. The anxiety in his voice clear as day. "I'm in the hospital but-" His heart sank for a moment. He didn't like it one bit when someone said that Dani was in the hospital.

"What? Why?" Of course he knew that PR events could take longer and he wasn't even angry. After all it wasn't Dani's fault

And if someone was willing to get away from the media as soon as possible, it was him.

He never did.

Not even when they were young and reckless and idiots that didn't understand what their feeling were really like and the world was telling them to be someone they weren't.

But now -

Now Jorge was remembering that it was Dani calling. Not someone from his team or the FIM. It was Dani. He was talking. He was alright. So Jorge could use some humor.

"AGIAN?! Dani, what did you do this time? You're supposed to stay ON the bike!" he chuckled. Somewhere along the way they had discovered that joking about some things made the worries ease.

"Which hospital? We're on our way!" he asked nonetheless. In his mind he was already packing some bags, getting Pedro ready and then trying not to break every speed limit.

"Okay first off - ouch. There was no need for that 'again', alright?! Secondly... I'm not the patient. It's Vale" "Rossi? Why?" A short silence followed and Jorge grinned. If Dani hesitant to tell something, he meant a good story. So he was sure that whatever he would hear next would be pure gold of his husband got shy over it at first.

"Because... Someone..." he started slowly. "May has broken his noise." "Someone?" he asked grinning. "Yes... Someone." "And how did someone even manage to reach his nose? As far as I'm aware you'd need a chair for that"

A fake shocked gasp came from the other side of the line and Jorge just knew he would get a soft punch against his shoulder if they were face to face right now. He would watch Dani's face try to portray betray and hurt all while a smile would be cracking through until he was laughing, clearly unable to contain his giggles about his joke.

After all these years, Dani was still laughing about his bad jokes.

"You know what?! Why did I even marry you?!" he shot back and really, there was only one answer. "Because you love me?" "Naaaah" Dani said and Jorge couldn't help but laugh, knowing it was just them joking around, teasing and nagging each other like they always did.

"It's cause you got me pregnant. Knocked me up first try" he reminisced. "And now I have to deal with a hyperactive 7 year old that's missing his papa." Jorge argued back. "So whose really the victim?"

"Aweeee, poor you... Tell Pedro I love him. Give him a big kiss from me." He nodded. He would have done it anyway but he knew Dani had to say it. His voice had turned softer again, both knowing they were about to hang up.

"And who gives ME a kiss from you?" he asked playful. "I don't know. Be nice and you'll get one later." "I'll count on that." he whispered and closed his eyes. He wanted to imagine he was there with him.

"I promise to be back as soon as possible." "I know. As always." "Mmm.... I love you, Jorge" "I love you more."

Later on, Dani had told Marc about their conversation. At first the older one hadn't been sure if it might just stirr him up for nothing, but on the other hand, if anyone should be aware of how far gone he still was - it was Marc.

And he had sat there and listened. He had nodded along, trying to hide his hurt, shock visible as he heard Vale's newest theory. He was used to a lot from his ex, but this was a new high.

A wave of protection overcame him when he heard it. He couldn't overcome how easily he had been able to accuse his own brother of a betrayal like that. "Luca would never hurt Vale intentionally! Fucking hell, even when he disappointed him the most, he was still trying to help him and understand him! And he accuses him of something like that?!" he argued back, Dani nodding in agreement.

He wasn't even angry that he got accused of manipulating a minor to sleep with him, even if it was one of the most disgusting things he had ever heard. But the bar of things he'd assumed Vale would deam the truth was low.

Still, the conversation kept lingering in his mind. Even now that Luca was spending the day was them. It was one of the slow weekends during the break where he could spent all day with David. And the Italian had decided to visit to spent some time with his favorite nephew. He was his only, but Marc still smiled about it.

He wished he could smile about it now, but with Luca present, he wondered how if he had made a mistake years ago.

"You know - sometimes I regret that I gave in as quickly as I did..." Marc said as he leaned against the wall behind them.

Luca turned to him slightly. He saw the way his empty glance had returned to his face. He was still looking at the track, watching Alex chase after David to make sure the little Marquez was safe.

But it seemed like he wasn't seeing him properly. Like he saw something else. Or someone else.

"I mean... I know why I didn't." he said, more talking to himself than to the boy. "It's just that sometimes when I see David like this, I wonder what it would be like if he was here"

Luca nodded. He knew he was talking about his brother, David's father.

"It's mostly little things. We had made a promise to never let David ride unless one of us is there. And now Alex and you sometimes take him to the track without me and I wondered if Vale - the Vale that still got his mind in the right place - would be angry that I break the promise."

"I think he'd understand. The old Vale would understand." Luca replied. He felt the aif freeze for a moment. There was no reaction. Maybe he shouldn't have answered and just kept it a monolog.

"You really believe that?" Marc asked, his voive softer than expected. "Yes." "And you think he's still there? Somewhere... Deep under all the shit he's talking?" It sounded more like mockery, maybe voluntarily, maybe not.

"Yes" Luca repeated. His voice dripping with false confidence. He wanted to believe it. He really did. But it was hard when the reality was so different.

"I don't know who but someone really got in his head." he argued quickly. It had been Frankys idea. That Vale was being manipulated. The boys came up with it after someone said that Vale might be projecting. That he had been the one cheating on Marc and turned it around to not be blamed.

But Luca and the academy knew Vale. They knew how much in love he was with Marc. So manipulation seemed the only way.

"They still are. He's still being manipulated. Probably. But if we find out who-" "Luca, stop" the Spaniard quickly interrupted. His voice was sharp and on point, making it clear, he wasn't messing around. "I am glad you still have hope, but I don't. I have a son to take care of. I can't afford getting thrown off by Vale. And getting my heart broken all over again. I need to be there for David"

"I know... I... I'm sorry" "No. You know I didn't mean it like that. It's just... I was so sure he'd get around and sometimes, in moments like this, I wonder what my life would be like if he did. And David's life."

He sighed deeply and remembered how everything had changed. He remembered bearing the accusation for the first time, seeing the news filled with it. He remembered every fight and confrontation. And he realized how much less it actually were than he had thought.

"Sometimes I wondered if I could have convinced him if I just had tried." he admitted. "I never even took him to court over anything. I didn't want to force him to anything. No child support. Nothing. Not even giving up his legal rights to David even if he pushed him away... I didn't even ask him for a paternity test"

He laughed. It was such a stupid realisation that he felt childish for not even having considered it sooner.

"Why didn't I? Really... It... It could have solved everything. It would have gave him the truth, black on white. A scientific prove that he is David's father... But no! I was so stupid and caught up in everything I couldn't think straight. And now it's too late. I don't even know if I want him to make one."

He bit his lips, wondering if it would be to much and what it would even mean.

"Maybe just to see the shock on his face when he realized that he had been saying all this crap about his own kid... But I don't think I'd be able to take him away from him if he actually comes to his sanity... So then I would have to deal with... Well everything. I should have just ask him to do the stupid test...."

He shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts again. It was then that he saw the Italian next to him. He was awkward shifting from one feet to the other and avoiding his eyes. There was a guilty look on Lucas face.

"Luca?" he asked "Why do you look like that?" "What? I - No. Nothing. I-" "Luca why do you look like that? What did you do?" he asked and if his voice switched to his parent scolding voice like it did when he had to scold Dabifd, then what?

"Why do you have the same guilty look in your face like when you wanted to help Alex cut his hair and gave him a bald stripe." "Okay first off, that wasn't my fault! I was shaving his neck and he suddenly looked up and basically shoved his hair in the razer" "Then what did you do now?" he demanded.

There was once more a second of silence. Marc looking at Luca, staring him down. Luca trying not to break but at the end giving in with a sigh.

"I... When 2015 happened... I asked Alex to sent me a DNA sample from David. I sent that and one of my own to a DNA lab in Italy. I chose Italy to avoid Vale using his Spanish conspiracy theory and... I got the result and obviously it said that we are related with the expected DNA match percentage for the kid of someone's half sibling."

Slowly Marc's eyes went wide. He understood what Luca was saying before he finished the sentence. They had essentially done a paternity test. But if they did it - where was Vale? And why? If he had the result?

"I showed it to Vale and I thought it would make him understand and reconsider... You know that it was just an emotional out of the moment frustration. I mean - people do extrem things when they loose and - okay that is above all excusesable - I just wanted to prove to him that he is wrong"

"I guess it went wrong?" he asked quietly.

"He didn't believe me. He said the test must be fake." "The test was fake? According to him?" "Yeah..." He just nodded.

The awkward silence return and he knew that Luca felt guilty - again. Again without reason. Again over his brothers action. Marc felt sorry for him. He was so young and had to step up to deal with his older brothers madness and try to ease it. He tried it day after day.

"Well, at least I could save the money for a paternity test." he said jokingly. "And the trouble of dealing with it. Sorry you had to do it"

Luca just shrugged. He was obviously thinking about whatever happend between the brothers when they had the conversation.

Marc tried to imagine. He tried to think of anything that Vale could have said but noen really made sense because in Marc's mind it was impossible to deny while for Vale it was the only logical response.

Luca bit his lips, remembering how he went to Vale that day. He was holding the brief tight in his hand like it was treasure when he saw his brother sitting on the couch.

He had explained him everything. Vale showed no reaction the whole time. His face was guarded and neutral. He let Luca talk, solely because Luca was his brother. Everyone else would have gotten interrupted and thrown out 2 sentence in.

But he let him talk. He took the letter, read it, understood it and let Luca explain if some more.

Luca was mid sentence when Vale suddenly hugged him. "I am so sorry" he had whispered with honestly in his voice. "Luca, I.... I don't know what to say" "It's okay" the younger one had replied with a grin.

"We can figure it out. If you apologize to Marc and the media, maybe we can be a family again. I'm sure they'll understand and-" "No, Luca. Don't you get it? They used you." he said, his voice sad.

Sad for his brother.

"What?"

"They - oh fucking hell. I'm so sorry, Luca. I really am" he said again and pushed his hand through his hair as he eyed the letter again. The scientific prove that he had fathered the child he cursed a bastard.

"I would have never expected them to actually drag you in this as well. Luca, they used you. The test is fake. They are trying to put you against me"

"What? No! No! I made the test! It's real. It really is!" "It's not. Come on, buddy. You're not a kid anymore. You don't really think that... This is true? You think I'm lying? Do you really think I - I - would abandoned my own child?"

Luca had looked up at him. Their eyes met. The hurt in Vale's eyes, just at the thought of it was clear, more clear than any cristal. It was so evident that Luca couldn't help but shake his head. It was than that the older brother had wrapped him up in another hug.

He was remembering it when Marc reached for him again. He just couldn't help it when seeing the younger one like this.

He pulled him in a side hug and stood on his tip toes to give him a short kiss on the cheek. He was family and Marc wouldn't let his family suffer in silence and drown in their own thoughts. He would stand by them and do whatever he could.

And now it seemed like the only thing he could do was giving Luca the comfort only an older brother could provide. But without the hidden burning hate, Vale still had. Without the lingering anger. Without the hole that Vale had caused in his baby's brother heart when he showed the boy he raised what he was really capable of.

Because yes - Luca believed Vale. He believed he would never abandon his own child. After all Vale had been like a 3rd parent to him. He knew what it was like to be raised by Vale. He knew Vale had always sworn to be a good parent one day.

But now he was the opposite. He had abandoned his son and a part of Luca refuses to accept that. He couldn't believed his brother would be able to do that, that his delusion ran as deep as that.

But the facts were proof enough. It wasn't Vale, standing on the side of a dirt track watching David. It wasn't Vale that was there with them, taking time off and using one of their rare breaks to look after a child.

It was Luca who had been there for Marc, Alex and David. Not Vale. Not anymore. And maybe never again.

[tinylilacbun]

h e r n u m b e r o n e ᯓ★

You giggle when Rafe revs his bike, sitting on top of it as he slowly wheels it towards the start line, smiling at you fondly.

Being his daughter, the loud sounds of a bike is a thing you got used to since you were born, and riding one is something you look forward to once you're old enough.

The enduro race is gonna start soon, all the opponents getting ready and making the last touches on their gear and bikes, just like your dad as he slides on his gloves, ruffling your hair afterwards.

"C'mon, let's get you to Sofia." He says, lifting you up from his bike and settling you on his hip as he makes his way over to her.

"Rafe Cameron on that fire-breathing KTM, he could be your favorite today." The commentator announces through the speakers.

Pff, he is already your favorite, and always will be. He just smirks but stops walking as he's about to pass John B.

"What do you want, Rafe." The brunette asks.

Rafe simply shrugs, holding you firmly. "I mean, my Dad went off with you and never came back. I didn't forget that." He smiles in a threatening way which you didn't catch up on. "See you in traffic, slick."

After saying that, he continues walking again to where Sofia is standing, leaning down to kiss her before he hands you over to her. "Keep a good eye on that one, tends to get in trouble."

"From whom she only got that?" She chuckles, poking your side a few times to hear you laugh, looking back up at Rafe. "Be careful out there."

"Always am." He smirks, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before making his way back to his bike.

"Good luck, daddy!" You shout, waving at him and watching him get onto his dirt bike.

"Let's go, Rafe! You got this, baby! Whoo!" Sofia shouts all the while you clap and cheer for him as well.

"Whoo!" You squeal excitedly and keep waving. Rafe smiles as he sees that, putting on his helmet and revving his bike once.

Soon the racers got the start signal and you watch in amazement at how fast they all drive past you, trying to keep your eyes on Rafe.

"Rafe Cameron gets the holeshot, beats the pack out front, and, boy, he is blazing down the straightway." The commentator observes.

At one point Sofia sets you down on the ground, keeping ahold of your hand to ensure you won't run off as you now wait patiently for your dad to race back.

"S'daddy gonna win?" You ask, looking up at Sofia with a big grin and she squeezes your hand, a smile that mirrors your own on her face.

"You bet he will, he already had a good start. Gimme five." She tells you and gives you a high five.

Soon enough you're able to see the racers, recognizing Rafe at the front together with someone else and Sofia tenses up a little when she sees how close they are to each other.

You, who doesn't see anything wrong, keep cheering for him, jumping up and down while clapping your hands again. "Daddy! Yay!"

"Cameron's close but not gonna be able to overtake him." You hear the commentator say and suddenly you see Rafe practically getting flung from his bike after he successfully tried to stop JJ. "Oh, mayhem, carnage! They're both down!"

You stop jumping, standing there for a moment in shock and before you could rush over to him you feel Sofia grab your arm. "Wait- you can't just run over there while the race is still going! It's too dangerous."

With a confused whimper, you stay beside Sofia, the tears already building up in your eyes as you can only watch your father laying on the sand as the other racers finish the race.

As soon as you are allowed to, you and Sofia run over to him as quickly as possible as everyone else cheers on Topper for his win.

You almost stumble a few times while Rafe gets up from the ground and pulls off his helmet, visibly in pain but he still manages to catch you in his arms, lifting you up and feeling you wrap your arms around his neck tightly.

"I'm okay, I'm okay." He pants, despite his whole body aching he knows he has to assure you he's well by the way your body is trembling from crying. "Shh...I'm fine, princess, I promise. I'm so sorry I scared you."

You sniffle and pull back to place your small palms on his cheeks, a pout on your face but when he gives you a small smile you bury your face back in his neck and simply hold tightly onto him.

Sofia watches you both, brows still furrowed in concern and places a hand on his arm, giving him a onceover. "Are you sure you're okay, baby?"

"Yeah- just sore, is all, I'm fine." He nods, making his way off the raceway to hopefully find somewhere to sit with a slight limp, keeping an arm firmly around your back, his other draped over Sofia's shoulders for some support.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou @sunf1ower16 @sweetstars-posts @rafecameronsloverrrrr @rafesdoeeyeddoll

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[zalder]

“I feel like most parents are generally okay as long as you don’t end up in prison and even then they can look the other way as long as it’s not for murder,” she was willing to admit. She knew that expectations could be high in some cases but most people just wanted their kids to live to see adulthood and everything else was sort of a bonus. She couldn’t hide the amusement crossing her features as she tried to think up a side of Jace that wasn’t the nice, relatively tame version she knew. “You didn’t murder anyone as far as I am aware. You didn’t knock anyone up as far as I know. I think you probably got a pass. I mean, I didn’t know teenage you but even when I think of you getting into mischief I feel like it was probably relatively tame. You can correct me and tell me what a bad boy you were though if you want for my personal amusement. I mean, we've previously talked about the tattoos so... I know there is something in there.”

“Not and win but people try,” she confessed. She knew there were plenty of people out there that thought they could outrun their own luck. Those people were usually doing the complete opposite of what they should be doing if they wanted their life to go a certain direction. It was always easier to see from the outside looking in though. She had decided relatively early on that the stress of trying to make life turn out any certain way wasn’t worth it. It was better to just enjoy life and let it be what it was going to be. “I think that we’re all a culmination of a million possibilities but in the end only one can win for good or bad. I’m honestly not going to spend a lot of time stressing over it,” she admitted, glancing between Jace and the lights. “A Christmas allegory felt very fitting for our surrounding. It’s all so pretty.”

There were worse things to be curious in than taxidermy if you were also interested in animals and nature, Jason knew that to be true. It might not be a popular opinion, or something that he would even suggest for other people to pick up -- or something he ever planned on picking up, either, for that matter -- but anything that furthered your education, made you feel like you were learning more about something that you were passionate about and really put a lot of care into was going to be a good thing. At least in his eyes, anyway. "I think she had more important things to worry about," he laughed, shrugging both shoulders. That was normally the case with his parents, and he didn't mind it.

"Can't really fight fate," he agreed with a shake of his head. Not that Jason was the kind of person that believed in a lot of superstitious things, or deep, meaningful sayings that were supposed to guide you through life, but… he did like to think that he had gotten to where he was supposed to be, even if it hadn't been the path he had figured he would take. The end was what mattered. "I mean, I'm sure that's true. Any number of things could have happened while I was overseas to have changed my entire outlook on life and what I wanted," he could have become a career military man, he could have moved far, far away, he could have not made it home at all. Something that he didn't quite want to spend his time thinking about. "Very apt for the season," he replied with a nod and a laugh, "but it's a valid point."

[selfloverrrrrr]

Lust~(part-2)

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physically and emotional abuse, biting, torture, size difference, threesom....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Y/n's POV

Next morning when I woke up it was too early in the morning. Gojo was still sleeping beside me. Did I fall asleep after that last night? Fuck....I should sneak out quietly. I slowly pushed off his hand from top of me making sure he's not awake. Then took my clothes put it on and run away.

I went to school with a scarf around my neck. I was wishing while walking through the corridor that I wouldn't meet Gojo. But happened exactly what I didn't wanted. A hand wrapped around my neck. "Why did you sneak in the morning?" He asked. I almost jumped from the sudden voice.

I didn't reply and continued walking. "Awwww ignoring me even after being my whore for last night?" He asked. I looked around with a terrified expression checking that nobody heard it. "And I told you not to cover your neck... didn't I?" He asked and was about to pull the scarf. I grabbed his hand.

"Gojo please..." I said. He smirked. "Finally spoke?....fine sweetheart. After all I should fulfill my GIRLFRIEND'S wishes" he said and winked at me. Then went away from there. Almost a week passed. Gojo was out of town. Today all of a sudden Geto came to me. "Hey y/n...I didn't saw you after that halloween party" he said.

"yeah.... it's been a long time" I replied. "Why did you leave there that night? I thought you were there but when I came back you weren't" he said. So that means Gojo was lying? Geto wasn't in his plan? I knew he was lying! Why would Geto?! He'd never! I knew it. "I'm sorry... I wasn't feeling well that night" I replied.

He closed the door and without saying anything he kissed me. Then looked at me. "You know..... you're so pretty. I never thought I was going to see anyone this pretty in our college" he said. then kissed me again. This time deep kiss. I kissed him back. As I kissed him back he picked me up and went towards his bedroom.

The kiss kept deepening and he fell on his back on the bed with me on his top. I chuckled. He sat up with me on his lap and rested his back on the headboard. "You're so handsome" I said rubbing my hand on his chest. "You think so?" He asked with a smirk. "I do" I replied.

"the way you're believing me.... didn't anyone warned you about me?" He asked. "Yes... Shoko did" I replied. "As I thought" he chuckled. "And what did she say?" He asked. "That you may seem so innocent but you are dangerous" I replied. "Yeah yeah..." He said and rolled his eyes. "She's not wrong though" he said and pulled me again in a kiss.

His lips on mine. Tongue thrusting inside my mouth, we both grinding on each other's crotch, with one of his hands he grabbed my hair, with another hand pushing me more on his crotch and with another hand grabbing my breast and squeezing it and another month on my neck? WAIT WAIT WAIT.... how's that even possible?!

I immediately pushed off and turned around my head and and and I regret it now. There's Gojo sitting with a smirk on his face. "What's the matter y/n? You look like you've seen a ghost" he said and leaned towards me. My heart felt like now it's gonna be out the way it's beating. My breath was almost stopped.

I turned my head at Geto again. And he has the exact same smirk on his face. "What? Didn't you said Shoko warned you about me? Should've listened to her" he said and they both laughed. What the hell is happening?! Why am I in this fucked up situation!!! "You know... Suguru wanted to have you too... and I believe in sharing is caring but what do I see here? Cheating on your boyfriend? Very very bad" Gojo whispered and pulled me on his lap.

"you're not my boyfriend...let me go.... you both can burn in hell" I said and went up. Geto grabbed me and pulled me again. "Look Satoru you made her hate me as well ..... I thought I won't have to force! " Geto said. "Ah you don't know her she's a bitch....I think maybe she likes when We force her?" Gojo said with a smirk. "No I don't!!! Let me fucking go!!!!" I screamed.

Gojo started caressing my inner thigh under my skirt and slide his hand inside my pantie and started rubbing my clit. I was about to stop him but Geto grabbed my another hand. "Didn't you said you want it...so what happened now?" Geto asked. Gojo started rubbing his crotch on my ass. "Gojo stoppp" I screamed. He started rubbing my clit more roughly. "But baby... your pussy is telling me not to stop... Suguru, she's wet as fuck" Gojo said and ripped off my pantie.

I tried to close my legs but Gojo grabbed both of my thighs and spread them. "Spread those legs wide, slut" Gojo whispered in my ear. Geto looked at my exposed pussy. I looked away with shame. "Damnn... We should fuck her then, Satoru" Geto said. "Of course" Gojo said with a smirk. Then there was I, on my fours. All of our clothes were on the floor. I'm begging them to stop the humiliation. Geto thrusting his dick in my mouth and Gojo in my pussy from back. I squeezed my eyes.

Tears flowing down. My mouth was wide open. Geto's dick inside my mouth takes the whole length slowly. It was too big. Geto's breath hitched. He threw his head back mouth wide open. He pulled my hair telling me to suck hard. I slowly sucked his dick and his legs shook. He bobbed my head up and down. His tip was poking the back of my throat. He grabbed my hair and started bobbing my head up and down faster. "Oh god...oh god.... don't...ahhhh... don't stop!!!!" Geto moaned out loudly. He was bobbing my head up and down faster and faster. He suddenly felt that Geto was close. In a few minutes he came inside my mouth. He grabbed my chin "Swallow it y/n" geto said squeezing my mouth which made me swallow. I squeezed my eyes shut and he forced me to swallow.

On the other hand Gojo was thrusting too roughly. He was slamming his whole dick inside me. I screamed. I was through my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he liked it so much. His thrust became harder and harder. I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight, Suguru this pussy might be the death of me!!!" he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I squeezed the bedsheet to control myself. With a few more thrust I came. He was still thrusting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. " Slut should fucking take what I'm giving her." He whimpered. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out.

Geto pulled me and made me sit on his lap. He touched my right boob with his hand and pinched the nipple. I whimpered. "She can take both of us together Suguru" Gojo said. "Can she?" Geto asked with a smirk. "Of course she can she said she'll do anything to help us" Gojo smirked back at Geto. "No no no....not again... please please please... not again" I cried out. Gojo's smirk widened and he crashed his mouth on my boob sucking harshly. I moaned loudly.

They both lined up with me. Fear grabbed me by my neck. " Gojo no no no... P-please no...Geto please s-stop" I begged but they didn't even listen to me and slammed their whole dick inside me in one slide. I screamed. They didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thrusting in and out roughly. It was too much...they both were big and thick....it was giving too much pain. I was through my legs with pain and begging them to stop. And they liked it so much. Their thrust became harder and harder. I clenched around them tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh.... f-fuck...it's so tight " Geto moaned. "Told you " Gojo said between moans and started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bit his shoulder and scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thrust I came. They were still thrusting roughly. I felt their cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength. They both moaned loudly. Within a minute they came inside me so I could feel their seed inside me. My vision blurred out.

They both pulled out. "Gotta say....you weren't wrong tho ...she feels like heaven" Geto said. "I know she does" Gojo replied and laughed loudly.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

[musical-chick-13]

GOD this appointment was brutal.

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Something something trapped kid in a pipe at a home renovation and his older brother going in to save him Eddie and saving his sisters from their parents and Eddie reconstructing his life in the aftermath of Shannon…

[aguineapigcouldntdothis]

im so glad this helped you! I was also scared of the hunger and emotional changes, I definitely eat more now because it's pretty much male puberty so you'll get hungry. emotional changes werent that bad, im angry a lot less. however crying is so much harder even if i feel all the associated emotions. face acne was not too bad, a pimple once in a while but mostly clear skin. the arm and bacne?? absolutely there no matter what.

it is very possible to pass as a cis guy. however, important context is that im intersex, so I had high T levels naturally just not high enough to pass as a man. again, not the most masculine man ever, im a 5'3 otter with dyed hair and jewelry and yet I pass 100% as a cis guy. strangers think im male, even guys in trump hats who are probably transphobes. literally everyone I've talked to that I met after starting T has thought I was a cis male at some point. most of them still do because I am stealth, I only tell very close friends, other trans people, and people from this one support group. the main reaction I get when coming out as trans is shock, and then "so you want to be a girl??" to which I have to tell them that it's the other way around and im a trans man.

also I dont have "trans voice", although there would be no problem if I did. I have a deep voice with a fuller, masculine resonance and im able to move through different tones/pitches while sounding like a man. with zero proper voice training and very little effort bc that's so much work. I have a masculine face, square and not bloated nor feminine. also attractiveness is so so subjective but I do think I look way better than I did before. more importantly i look and feel happier and more confident.

I should absolutely be more humble yet my point is that it is 100% possible to pass as a cis man. I think its fair for me to not shut up about it bc as long as another trans guy knows that he can do it too.

would anyone appreciate a list of what i've learnt on my first year of T? there were so many unexpected things that no one told me about and I think it could help a few people!

[deoidesign]

how did u learn to paint?? like i just cant wrap my head around it

<3 I love answering asks like this!

You will have to bare with me, I don't save many of my studies, and my files aren't that organized so I don't have as many images as I would like.

The studies I've found most helpful for myself personally with painting are various master studies. (This is also, as always, alongside study of fundamentals.) And always follow a study with self-critique (and, if you can get it, outside critique!)

"Master" in this sense means anyone who you want to learn something from.

One way you can do this is by copying an artist's work directly. This is to try and understand some of their stylistic techniques. Leyendecker, Andrew Loomis, and John Singer Sargent are personal favorites of mine! I try to keep these quick, I'm not trying to get an exact copy.

I also get a lot out of copying photos. In this case, I'm not trying to glean some technique, rather, I'm trying to interpret the photo and explore my own stylizations.

(photo credit mountain men of alaska )

I also really enjoy taking a painting or piece that already exists, and making it "mine" by putting my characters in it haha, which is sort of a combination of master studies and photo studies!

(William Bruce Ellis - Covent Garden (1930)) (Barberini Faun)

And then, in my work that's not a study at all, I'm informed by all of these!

What master studies do is help me refine my style and practice my technique, but also I'm communicating with artists of the past through my art! They're teaching me! And I have so much to learn.

And of course... most importantly... I paint.

a lot.

I don't do as much study anymore, not because I feel I've learned all I need to, but because for work I draw 50+ drawings a week. 'Drawing for work' and 'study' occupy the same space in my brain and I need some fun drawing time!

So to sum up, draw a lot, reference constantly, and copy the people you want to draw more like!

(and, of course, when doing a study off of someone else's work, always give them credit. If it's your photos there's no need.)

[wormchaser]

you are complaining about complaining too much while complaining about the fact that maybe people dont like you because you complain too much while complaining about being alone. just stop complaining and do something about it. talk to people. reach out. dont just wait for someone to come to you first.

i have tried reaching out to different people in the past year or so but it never works. i understand its my own fault for letting relationships decay because of my own insecurities and issues but that doesn't mean i can just will myself to think or believe different things about myself. it's a self fulfilling prophecy ; i think people don't like me so i don't reach out so people don't like me etc . i am sure you do not want to hear me list all the things i want to say in response so i will put them in the tags.

[druizard]

I am living for all of the thirsty tags you guys add when you reblog my shit. Absolutely unhinged. Never change, friends.