#What Are Some Exercises To Grow Taller

[jojo-schmo]

I'm updating my personal ref sheets and it's really hitting me just how SMOL Kirby, Bandee, and Elfilis really are compared to the rest of the cast.

[hellsquills]

Do you think Ford knew how old he was when he came back? Because I don't think so.

He's been all around the multiverse, in places that definitely didn't follow the laws of physics of his home dimension. Time works differently depending on the place he lands on, and he never gets used to any of them because he knows he'll have to leave sooner or later.

So time passes. He can feel himself age, of course, but he doesn't know how long it's been since he fell through the portal. When he looks at himself in the mirror, he can see wrinkles paired with new scars, and his hair is getting grayer, but that could simply be a sign of stress. And sure, his body hurts when he wakes up, but he's constantly on the move and sleeping anywhere he can, obviously he's not going to be in the best shape! All things considered, he's a pretty fit man for any age, and whatever years he's been alive for is not his priority right now.

When he comes back home, after his first encounter with Stan, he finally gets a moment to think about his new and old family. His brother looks older, obviously, and certainly different from what he imagined (not that he thought about him often, of course not). His hair is whiter than his own, and he has even more wrinkles than him! Just how badly was he taking care of himself in the... how many years... wait, did he say 30?!

I don't think Ford was necessarily thinking of a higher or lower number. I don't think he expected anything more or less: the way he sees it, it could've been anywhere from 10 to 1000 years. Time was meaningless between dimensions. I think that the sole reminder that time still passed was what got to him.

That shock came full force after Weirdmageddon, when he realized that Stan was his same age, despite the differences in their physiques. It was the fact that they were both around 60 years old, and they had been apart for 40 years. Two whole thirds of their lives. They were supposed to grow old together, maybe not in the same house (or boat), but close to each other. That, paired with how old and worn down Stan looks, Ford can't help but feel like he's now years younger than him, and he hates thinking about it because with the way Stan had been living for the last 40 years, just how much longer- no, stop, don't think about it.

Ford's paranoia turns into hypochondria, but towards his brother. This translates as Ford desperately trying to cut Stan's bad habits (such as alcohol and smoking), making sure he eats well (Ford can't cook for shit) and semi-forcing him to do some exercise. Stan is not on board with these measures, and he lets his brother know just that because he's being bossy and annoying and he would like to enjoy his amnesia in peace please. Ford is as stubborn as a mule, but eventually he gives up and just begs Stan to please consider some of his suggestions because he wants him to be better. Stan still refuses, but every once in a while Ford catches him doing some exercise by himself or ordering a non alcoholic drink, and it makes him happy.

When they return to Gravity Falls, the twins look the most identical they've looked since they were like 10: Stan's eyes have a shine that Soos had never seen before, and his new and improved posture makes him look taller, like the weight of the world had been lifted off of him. Ford, on the other hand, has a fuller face and body, his expression is now softer and somewhat kinder, and he walks much more carelessly, like he's strolling instead of marching.

Ford doesn't care how old he is anymore, because now he's growing old next to his brother.

[moluvies]

crawl home ꔛ reiner braun x reader

a/n: spent way too long writing this bc i love reiner

words: 9.3k

cw: lowkey bff!jean, she/her pronouns and fem anatomy reader, soldier!reader, pre-timeskip friends/lovers, betrayal, forgiveness, reiner is pathetic, angsty, kinda serving friends to enemies to lovers, SMUT!!, oral (f!reader recieving), pinv sex, breeding, MDNI !!

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Reiner was taller now, even if it was hard to believe. Maybe not as tall as Bertholdt was, but taller. Not only that, but while he maintained some of the more prominent muscles in his figure, it was noticeable how much weight he had lost. His hair was slightly longer - maybe he didn't keep up with cutting it as much as before. But to be fair, the change wasn't necessarily drastic. Not like the amount of facial hair he let grow out, which was completely ridiculous but so on brand for him.

But what did you care?

Your gaze lingered on him a moment longer, practically having to force yourself to look away from the man you swore was dead to you. But he wasn't, was he? He was standing right there, talking to Connie and Jean like nothing happened. As if the night prior Jean didn't literally punch him. Did they all just forgive him suddenly? Traitors.

You sighed. Maybe you were being dramatic.

The only thing you wanted to hear now was the sound of the water swishing beneath the boat, maybe even a seagull. But it was like you couldn't drown out his voice. It hadn't changed. It was exactly as you'd remembered it being about four years ago. Though, back then you swore you'd found it charming.

Odiha. That's where you were going, what you were focusing on, in order to service the flying boat that would help you and your fellow scouts reach the Rumbling, you needed to reach Odiha. To stop Eren. So why was Reiner's presence bothering you so much?

Reiner was your best friend at one point. When you first joined the cadet corps, it was obvious you were nervous to anyone who took a second to look. And for that, most people didn't see you as a potential reliable comrade.

Most people.

Reiner liked you. He had once playfully claimed you made funny faces during sparring exercises and took you under his wing, seeing your potential. Back then, Reiner had a talent for making anyone feel seen. Even stubborn cadets like Annie seemed to at least tolerate him, maybe even respect him.

So how could you not fall in love with him?

It was ridiculous how quick it happened. You were sure there were other girls vying for his attention just like you were, but you swore Reiner gave you special treatment. It was stupid.

Reiner would see you entering the mess hall and instantly make sure there was a spot open at his table for you. Bertholdt had typically sat across from him, but most of the time there was a spot directly next to Reiner conveniently available just for you. He'd call you by your last name over to their table, always a smile on his face, always so damn sure of himself.

"Bread?" He had offered, causing you to shake your head with a nervous smile on your face. Nervous. Not nervous enough, apparently. But that didn't matter—not when Reiner was offering you bread, or to train after hours with you, or take you into Stohess one weekend when you mentioned wanting a change of scenery.

"I know you wanted that muffin," Reiner said regretfully as you walked away from the bakery stall at the food market. "Sorry I couldn't get it for you."

You shook your head, mouth full from the cookie he'd already got for you just ten minutes prior. "It's fine, really," you assured him, words slightly muffled from the pastry.

Reiner simply smiled at you, taking a bite of his own cookie.

When you returned to Trost that evening as the sun was just beginning to set, the teasing from your comrades was relentless.

"Woah!" Connie had exclaimed, realization dawning on his face as he looked at you and Reiner entering the mess hall together. "Where've you been all day?" He asked, nosy as ever even if the answer was plain as day.

"A date. Is that really such a foreign concept to you?" Reiner had teased, making Connie grin mischievously.

A date. You had your suspicions that that's what it was, but Reiner hadn't explicitly said it. Not until Connie asked. The straightforward explanation made your heart race, gaze dropping instantly to your shoes as Connie's laughter filled the space.

"So that's why you've been polishing your boots and actually combing your hair. I was wondering what the special occasion was," Jean had said to you, his brow raised and arms crossed in a way that was so distinctly Jean. Despite the words, you were sure it was his own way of approving.

"Oh, my God, is that a hickey?" Sasha suddenly butt in, moving into your personal space. Her hands held your head in place as she stared at the scrape from training on your forehead.

"Hickey—what—Sasha, that's on my forehead!" You had defended, but it was too late. Multiple other cadets heard the word hickey and ran with it, causing a flurry of gossip surrounding you and Reiner. And Reiner didn't deny it. He just smiled at you, and somehow that made you feel better.

There were plenty of times he'd made you feel better. An embarrassing amount of times. A pathetic amount of times, considering what he might've been comforting you about.

You sniffled, attempting to straighten yourself out before dinner was served in the mess hall as you sat on a log on the outskirts of the training grounds, taking in the yellow and orange blend of sunset before you. Even with the view, your mind was elsewhere.

It hit you every now and then at random. Despite it happening almost five years ago, you had pushed the grief down as far as you could bury it when your family was killed during the breach of Wall Maria. You were so young when it happened, but suddenly you were alone. When the Armored had broken through the inner gate of the wall, your childhood home had been crushed by a stray boulder.

You were lucky. You came to terms with that at a young age. Far too lucky. It chipped away at you everyday since, even without you realizing. What made you so fortunate to have escaped? Avoided certain death like your family couldn't? What made that soldier step in and save you but not them?

The wondering was pointless, though. They died and you didn't. For some reason fate had kept you alive until now. And for that, you had to live with a purpose. Even if now that purpose was wiping your snotty nose and trying to compose yourself enough to go eat with your friends.

"Bread?"

You had looked up to see none other than Reiner holding out a small loaf, a second one for himself in his right hand. Hesitantly, you had taken it, using the moment Reiner sat down beside you to attempt to discreetly wipe at the tears on your cheeks.

He didn't ask. You supposed it wasn't his style, or maybe he just assumed you didn't want to talk about it.

Reiner simply took a bite of his bread next to you, leaning forward as he chewed. After moments of silence, Reiner looked at you for a second and then towards the sunset. The corner of his mouth tugged upwards into a soft, almost wistful smile, but he said nothing.

"What?" You finally asked.

He almost replied with "nothing," you could tell, but he sighed and leaned back, either hands at his sides resting on the log. "You know what I miss most about home?" Reiner asked, his gaze locked with the sky. "The way the sun would rise over the hills," he stated.

You realized you'd never talked about it—why you were crying that day. To be honest, you didn't want to. Something about his presence had just put you at ease back then, to the point you forgot all of your troubles.

When graduation drew near, you weren't even sure what Reiner's plan was. Everyone knew his perfect scores got him into the top ten, eligible to enlist as a military police officer in the interior. That would've been great for him, but you weren't sure where that left you.

You weren't with Reiner when the Collosal titan had appeared and breached the wall into Trost. But you were there when Eren was discovered to be a titan himself.

From there, something in Reiner had shifted.

Back then, you figured it was realization of some sort. Realization that things were complicated, things were scary, things were real...

Things got even more real when Marco died. Marco wasn't someone you were close with, but he was always there, always kind. If someone as capable as Marco, as determined, as strong, as kind as Marco could die, what would that mean for you and your friends?

Many cadets dropped out that day, despite graduation being so close. You almost did as well. Especially upon seeing Jean's reaction to Marco's death, you didn't know if you had the guts to continue.

But Reiner always had to step in.

"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for," he said, his strong hand on your shoulder. "Look at me," he commanded softly. You hesitated but met his eyes. They were serious, and almost cold now. Different from how they used to look at you. "I know you've got what it takes."

And that was that. Along with Jean, who was sure he'd join the military police, you joined the Survey Corps, falling under the wing of the Commander Erwin Smith.

You were terrified, but you had Reiner.

Things in your lives seemed to come to a halt when Annie was revealed to be a titan. And then Ymir, along with Krista being some kind of royalty and living with a completely different name—Historia.

It was all confusing and overwhelming, and you really wished Reiner was there for you. And he was, physically, always there. But then he was distant. Even when sitting directly beside you during meals like he did before, his focus was obviously elsewhere.

And then it happened.

You revisited that day often. When Reiner and Bertholdt transformed, and everything you thought you knew came crashing down.

You couldn't even cry, or scream, or do much of anything. You'd learned a long time ago to accept these things, but God did it hurt.

Then he was gone. He and Bertholdt, back to wherever they came from—their "hometown" as they so often called it. You didn't know back then, and you'd honestly stopped caring.

When Eren was rescued from them, he tried telling you on the way back what Reiner had said in response to him screaming at them. Eren had brought you up, telling Reiner about all the pain and trauma you endured years ago when the inner gate of Wall Maria was broken and your family was killed.

Sorry. Sorry was what he said, according to Eren.

What a coward.

The next time you saw Reiner was a few months later. But it wasn't really him. It was the Armored titan, the same one you remember from childhood who had breached the wall. And now here you were, back in Shiganshina with your fellow scouts.

The bloodshed was monumental in Shiganshina. Bertholdt had died, but Reiner lived—barely. You weren't there when Hange and Jean had captured him. And you were grateful you weren't. Just three months after discovering his true self, you knew you'd do something stupid like let him go if you had been there. But that part wasn't really up to you, and he got away regardless.

That's when you discovered the truth of everything. The titans, the walls, Paradis, Eldians.

You wished you could hate him. But everyday you'd hoped for the day you could speak to him again, just once.

Those feelings seemed to have formed into anger as the years passed. And by the time you and your fellow soldiers raided Liberio, you basically lived in a shell. You promised your comrades you weren't going to allow feelings to get in the way, and you delivered.

So much happened in such a short amount of time it was difficult to even remember it properly.

You remembered seeing him—really him—for the first time again on Paradis. He was almost pathetic looking now, but a part of your heart still yearned for him.

Were the feelings even the same, though?

You and the rest of the scouts had to compromise and join forces with the Warriors in order to put a stop to Eren's plan to go through with the Rumbling. It was the first night that Jean brutally punched Reiner at the campfire. Years ago, you might've blindly taken the side of Reiner. Hell, if he said a word to you since being back on the island maybe you would've defended him. But he didn't. So you let it happen.

When the kids, Gabi and Falco, rushed to Reiner's side after the altercation, you felt as though you needed to physically drag yourself away to avoid saying anything to him.

Instead, you found Jean, cooling off in the outskirts of the woods. His head was in his hands, leaning against a tree as he shook.

You placed a gentle hand on his arm, causing him to jump. You made eye contact, but he was quick to look away. Though, your small touch grounded him.

"Sorry about that," Jean apologized. "I got carried away." His voice was breaking, you'd noticed, but you shook your head.

"Don't apologize," you replied.

You made a choice that evening. The choice to stay loyal to your comrades instead of blindly following Reiner like you did when you were a dumb kid. But it didn't make it any less difficult when he stood there on the boat looking almost like he had years ago.

The expression on his face was that of determination. And the people at his side were none other than Jean and Connie.

You scoffed, pulling your gaze away from the men and staring off into the vast ocean—the ocean you didn't even knew existed years ago; the ocean Reiner didn't bother mentioning to you those nights you sat together for hours.

You'd gone over every emotion the past four years. You saw his side as best you could. Even so, it was hard to forgive. Especially when Reiner himself hadn't made an effort to speak to you.

"Hey." You didn't look up, you knew it was Jean.

"You gonna talk to loverboy or what?" He asked after a beat of silence. You finally lifted your head to shoot him a glare. Jean simply smiled, looking back at where Reiner and Connie were still talking and then back to you, sitting beside you on the bench.

You remained quiet for a moment after Jean sat beside you, your fingers absently picking at a loose thread on your sleeve. The gentle rock of the boat beneath you seemed to match the churning in your stomach.

"I'm not talking to him," you finally said, keeping your voice low despite the distance between you and the others.

Jean snorted. "Right. Because ignoring him is working so well for you."

You shot him another glare. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You've been staring at him every chance you get since yesterday." Jean's knowing smile widened as your cheeks flushed with heat. "Don't worry, he's been doing the same thing."

Something fluttered in your chest at his words, but you quickly tamped it down. "Has he... said anything?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, your voice smaller than you intended.

Jean chuckled, that same knowing look in his eyes that made you want to shove him off the bench and into the sea. But then his expression softened.

"No," he admitted. "But it's getting annoying watching you two dance around each other like this. You look at him when he's not looking, he looks at you when you turn away. It's really embarassing for both of you."

You sighed, turning your gaze back to the endless blue horizon. The vastness of the ocean still amazed you, even now. "Well, if he wanted to talk, he would've said something by now."

"Maybe he's thinking the same thing about you," Jean pointed out.

"That's different," you protested weakly.

"How?"

You opened your mouth to respond but found you didn't have an answer that wouldn't sound childish. Jean was right, and you both knew it.

"Look," Jean said, his voice gentler now, "I'm not exactly Reiner's biggest fan. You were there when I..." He flexed his hand, the same one he'd used to punch Reiner the night before, his knuckles reddened now. "But we're all stuck here together now. And whatever was between you two—"

"There was nothing between us," you interrupted, the lie bitter on your tongue.

Jean gave you a flat look. "You're a terrible liar. Always have been."

You looked down at your hands, suddenly finding your fingernails fascinating. "It doesn't matter now anyway."

"Maybe not," Jean agreed. "But you're never going to stop wondering if you don't at least talk to him once. Really talk to him."

The silence between you stretched for several long moments as you considered his words. The rational part of you knew he was right. This tension, this unspoken thing hanging in the air between you and Reiner, it would only continue to distract you. And with what lay ahead—with Eren and the Rumbling—you couldn't afford distractions. And more importantly, you didn't want to die with regrets.

"Fine," you muttered, standing up with a resigned sigh.

Without waiting for some type of reaction from Jean, you turned and made your way across the deck toward where Reiner and Connie stood. Your heart hammered against your ribs with each step, and you briefly considered turning back. But Jean's words echoed in your mind—you would never stop wondering if you didn't at least try.

Connie noticed you first, his animated conversation with Reiner faltering as you approached. Reiner turned, and for a moment, you were transported back to those days in the mess hall—him turning to call your name, saving you a seat beside him.

But his eyes weren't the same. They carried a weight now, dark shadows beneath them speaking of sleepless nights and unshakable guilt.

"Um, I'll just..." Connie mumbled, already backing away, but you barely registered his departure.

You stopped a few feet from Reiner, suddenly unsure what to say. All the anger, all the hurt, all the things you'd rehearsed in your head over the years—none of it seemed right now that he was standing in front of you.

"Can we talk?" The words came out steadier than you felt.

Reiner looked surprised, as if that was the last thing he expected to hear from you. He nodded once, hesitantly. "Yeah. Of course."

You nodded, and without another word, turned to lead the way to the stairs. You could feel his presence behind you as you descended into the dimly lit interior of the ship, the wooden steps creaking beneath your weight. The air was cooler here, tinged with the scent of salt and damp wood.

The sleeping cabins were arranged in a narrow corridor, small compartments with barely enough room for the bunks they contained. Most were empty now, with everyone gathered on the upper deck to watch the endless expanse of ocean passing by. You chose one at random, pushing open the door and stepping inside.

The room was tight, with just enough space for two narrow bunks built into the walls and a small porthole that cast a circle of fading evening light across the wooden floor. You sat on one of the bunks, the thin mattress sinking beneath your weight. Reiner hesitated at the doorway for a moment before entering and sitting on the opposite bunk, the space between you barely more than an arm's length but feeling like an unbridgeable chasm.

Reiner's shoulders hunched slightly, his large frame somehow seeming smaller in the confined space. His eyes darted around the cabin before finally settling on his hands, which were clasped tightly in his lap.

You found yourself remembering another small space you'd shared once, years ago during a thunderstorm. The supply shed had been the closest shelter when the rain had caught you both during evening training. You'd sat side by side on crates of gear, listening to the rain hammer against the roof, shoulders touching as Reiner told stories about his hometown to distract you from the thunder. And you remembered how you felt when he held your hand, the way his touch was so gentle, his fingers lacing with yours. Back then, his voice had been warm, his smile easy, his eyes bright with something that made your heart race.

Now, he sat across from you, silent and tense, his gaze fixed on the floor between your feet. The only sound was the creaking of the ship around you and the distant, muffled voices from above.

The silence between you stretched until it became unbearable. Your fingers dug into the thin mattress beneath you, knuckles turning white with the pressure.

"My family is dead because of you," you finally said, your voice quiet but sharp enough to cut through the heavy air. The words hung there, raw and unavoidable. "Every time I look at you, I see that day. The Armored Titan breaking through the gate. The boulder that crushed our home."

Reiner didn't flinch, didn't look away. He just nodded slowly, his eyes hollow. "I know."

"You know?" A bitter laugh escaped your lips. "That's all you have to say? You know?"

"What do you want me to say?" His voice was flat, resigned. The voice of a man who had already condemned himself a thousand times over.

"I want you to say something—anything—other than 'I know,'" you snapped, the anger you'd been holding back finally beginning to surface. "I want you to explain how you could sit with me that day by the training grounds, offering me bread while I cried about my family, knowing it was you who killed them."

Reiner's gaze dropped to the floor again. "I don't have an explanation that would make any sense to you."

"Try me," you challenged, leaning forward. "I've had four years to think about this, Reiner. Four years to try to understand."

He looked up then, and the defeated emptiness in his eyes almost made you recoil. This wasn't the Reiner you remembered—the strong, confident soldier who always seemed to know what to say, what to do. This was a shell of that man, worn down by guilt and grief.

"I compartmentalized," he said after a long moment. "The Warrior and the Soldier. Sometimes, I... I forgot which one was real."

"And which one was it?" you asked. "Which version of you was real, Reiner?"

He shook his head slowly. "I don't know anymore. Maybe neither."

You stood up abruptly, unable to sit still with the storm of emotions churning inside you. The cabin was too small to pace properly, but you moved to the porthole, looking out at the darkening sky without really seeing it.

"Do you have any idea what your betrayal did to me?" Your voice was quieter now, but no less intense. "It wasn't just that you were the Armored Titan. It was that you were you. Someone I..." You swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "Someone I cared about. A lot."

You heard the bunk creak as Reiner shifted his weight but didn't turn to look at him.

"I nearly quit the Scouts after you left," you continued, watching your breath fog the glass of the porthole. "I couldn't understand how I could have been so wrong about someone. How I could have trusted you so completely."

Your fingertips pressed against the cool glass as memories flooded back—training together in the rain, his hands adjusting your grip on the ODM gear controls, his laughter at your terrible jokes, the way his eyes would find yours across the mess hall.

"And it wasn't just you," you said, your voice growing thick with unshed tears. "I haven't been able to truly trust anyone since. Not completely. There's always this voice in the back of my mind asking if they're hiding something too. If they'll betray me just like you did."

"I'm sorry," Reiner said, his voice barely audible.

You whirled around to face him, anger flaring hot and bright. "Sorry doesn't bring my family back! Sorry doesn't erase the fact that you lied to me for years! Sorry doesn't change the fact that every memory I have of us is tainted now because I don't even know if any of it was real!"

"It was real," Reiner said, standing up now, something finally sparking in his eyes. "That's what you don't understand. It was all real for me too."

"How could it be real when it was all built on a lie?" Your voice rose, echoing in the small space.

"Because I didn't know how to separate the lie from the truth anymore!" He took a step toward you, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Do you think this has been easy for me? Do you think I just walked away and forgot about all of you—forgot about you?"

You stared at him, momentarily stunned by the sudden emotion in his voice.

"I've thought about you every single day since then," he continued, his voice breaking. "I see your face in my dreams. I hear your voice when it's quiet. You've been haunting me for four years, and I deserve it."

The raw pain in his voice knocked the breath from your lungs. Tears spilled down your cheeks as you stared at him, really seeing him for perhaps the first time since you'd learned the truth—not as the Armored Titan, not as the Warrior, not even as the Soldier, but as Reiner. Just Reiner, broken and haunted and so very human.

"I know you hate me," he said, quieter now, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. "You should hate me. If I could go back and change what I did..."

"But you can't," you whispered.

"No," he agreed. "I can't."

The admission hung between you, simple and devastating in its truth. You couldn't change the past. Your family was still gone. The walls were still broken. And Reiner—your Reiner—had still been the one to do it.

But the man standing before you now, shoulders slumped under the weight of his actions, eyes filled with a pain that mirrored your own—he wasn't the Armored Titan anymore. He was just as broken as you were.

Then suddenly you moved, your arms wrapping around his waist, your face pressed against his chest as sobs wracked your body. You could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady against your cheek, so at odds with the broken man it belonged to.

For a terrible second, he remained frozen, and you thought you'd made a mistake. Then his arms came around you, tight and desperate, one hand cradling the back of your head as he buried his face in your hair. His body trembled against yours, and you realized he was crying too—silent, shuddering sobs that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him.

The stubborn shame that had kept you both at arm's length dissolved in the salt of your mingled tears. There, in the dim light of the cabin, with the gentle rocking of the ship beneath you and the uncertain future ahead, you held each other like the last two survivors of a shipwreck—broken, exhausted, but somehow still alive.

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that, holding each other in the dim light of the cabin, your tears gradually subsiding into uneven breaths. His arms around you felt both familiar and foreign—the shape of him changed, but the way he held you still the same.

When you finally pulled back, just enough to look up at him, your faces were inches apart. Your hands had somehow moved to his shoulders, feeling the unfamiliar angles where muscle had once been. His eyes, red-rimmed from crying, searched yours with a question he didn't dare voice.

"I still hate what you did," you whispered, your voice hoarse. "I don't know if I can ever forgive that."

Reiner nodded slightly, accepting your words without defense. One of his hands had found its way to your face, his thumb gently brushing away a tear from your cheek.

"But I don't know how to hate you," you admitted, the confession tearing itself from somewhere deep inside you. "I've tried for four years, and I just... can't."

Something flickered in his eyes—a spark of something you hadn't seen since before everything fell apart. Hope, maybe. Or longing.

You weren't sure who closed the distance. Maybe both of you, drawn together like the inevitable pull of gravity. His lips found yours in a kiss that was hesitant at first, as if he expected you to push him away. When you didn't—when instead you pressed closer, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt—the hesitation gave way to a desperate need that matched your own.

Reiner's arms tightened around you, backing you against the wall beside the porthole. The cool glass pressed against your shoulder, a stark contrast to the heat of his body against yours. His kiss deepened, years of unspoken feelings pouring into it as his tongue met yours.

You gasped against his mouth, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, longer now than you remembered. The scrape of his beard against your skin was new, and your heart skipped a beat at the way his breath hitched when you tugged gently at his hair.

When you pulled away again, breathless, his eyes were dark with a mixture of desire and pain. "I shouldn't be doing this," he whispered, even as his thumb traced circles on your hip. "After everything I've done..."

"Shut up," you murmured, pulling him back to you. "Just shut up, Reiner."

He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob against your lips. "Still stubborn," he breathed.

Your hands tangled in his hair, eyes squeezed shut as you took in the feel of him. You were desperate, you knew. You felt pathetic, but you wanted him. Needed to be close to him.

"It's embarrassing how long I've wanted to do this," you murmured against his lips, your voice barely audible over the sound of your racing hearts.

His forehead pressed against yours, his eyes closed as he took an unsteady breath. "When we were back in training, that day in Stohess..." His voice was rough, trailing off as your lips found the curve of his jaw.

"Why didn't you kiss me then?" you asked, the question muffled against his skin.

Reiner's laugh was soft and broken. "I wanted to. Every second we were together." His hands slid down to your waist, anchoring you against him as if afraid you might disappear. "I told myself it was because of the mission. That I couldn't get distracted."

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your hand coming up to touch his face, feeling the unfamiliar texture of his beard beneath your fingertips. "And the real reason?"

He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting yours again. "I was afraid that if I started, I wouldn't be able to stop. That I'd tell you everything." The admission seemed to cost him, his voice barely above a whisper. "And then you'd hate me."

"I did hate you," you said quietly. "When I found out."

His eyes clouded with pain, but he nodded. "I know."

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his again, more gently this time. "But I hated myself more for still wanting this. For still wanting you."

Reiner's response was to kiss you again, deeper this time, his body pressing yours more firmly against the wall. One hand tangled in your hair while the other gripped your hip, his touch both gentle and desperate. You could taste the salt of tears—whose, you weren't sure anymore—and something else, something uniquely him that you had tried so hard to forget.

The ship rocked with a stronger wave, causing you both to sway. Reiner's arm tightened around your waist, steadying you, and for a brief moment, you were back in the training grounds, his arms around you as he corrected your stance, his breath warm against your ear.

"I missed you," he breathed against your mouth, the words so quiet they might have been imagined. "Every day."

You didn't answer with words. You couldn't. The anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface, alongside grief and betrayal and a hundred other emotions you couldn't name. But for now, in the dim light of the cabin with the sea stretching endlessly around you, you let yourself remember what it felt like to be in his arms.

Your lips found his again, harder this time, your teeth catching his lower lip in a way that made him groan. His hands tightened on you in response, lifting you slightly as he pressed you more firmly against the wall. The kiss deepened, grew more urgent, years of longing and hurt and need pouring into it.

The world outside—Eren, the Rumbling, the fate that awaited all of you—seemed distant and unreal compared to the solid warmth of Reiner against you, the familiar-yet-different taste of his mouth, the sound of his ragged breathing mingling with your own.

This wasn't forgiveness. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But as his lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, tracing a path that made your breath catch, you realized it might be something like a beginning. A chance to finally confront all the things left unsaid between you, all the hurt and the betrayal, but also all the moments that had been real.

Reiner’s hands slid down your sides, fingers digging into your hips as he kissed you with a desperation that made your knees weak. The rough scrape of his beard against your skin sent shivers down your spine, and when his teeth grazed your bottom lip, you gasped—only for him to swallow the sound with another searing kiss.

This isn't at all how you expected your "talk" to go. Years of rehearsing different scripts in your head about how you'd tell him you hate him when you saw him, how you'd show him how it felt to feel betrayed and alone... All of those came crumbling down when he touched you like this, so gently but also so needy.

Not that the idea in general hadn't crossed your mind an embarrassing and pathetic amount of times. That, you couldn't deny. Since your cadet days you'd wondered what it would feel like with him, hoping he'd make a move. But he never did. Your heart skipped a beat when you felt the sadness well up inside you again, but that feeling quickly went away when he tilted his head to better kiss you.

His body pressed you harder against the wall, the heat of him searing through your clothes. You could feel the evidence of his arousal against your thigh, and the knowledge of how badly he wanted you—after all this time—sent a thrill through you.

Then, without warning, he broke the kiss, his breath ragged. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, lips swollen from yours.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured, voice rough.

You didn’t.

A low sound escaped him, something between a groan and a growl, before his hands tightened on your waist—and then he was lifting you, turning, and depositing you onto the narrow bunk behind you in one swift motion. The thin mattress barely cushioned the impact, but you barely had time to register it before Reiner was on his knees between your legs, his hands sliding up your thighs with a reverence that made your breath hitch.

His gaze flicked up to yours, searching, hesitant—like he still couldn’t believe you were letting him touch you.

"Please," he breathed, fingers curling into the fabric of your pants. "Let me taste you."

The raw need in his voice sent a jolt straight to your core. He was begging. Reiner—the man who had once been so confident, so sure of himself—was now on his knees for you, looking up at you like you were the only thing that could save him.

You swallowed hard, your pulse hammering in your throat. You also didn't expect it to go like this. The Reiner that you knew back then presented himself to be some kind of big leader, something you admired because of how he never seemed to let it go to his head. He was one of the strongest, but he was humble.

So seeing him like this, desperate between your legs, felt almost like culture shock.

But even so, being with him, feeling him, talking to him all felt so good. So good you could cry. "Okay," you breathed, nodding.

His fingers trembled slightly as he undid the fastenings of your pants, tugging them down your legs along with your underwear. Your cunt was already pathetically wet just from making out, and suddenly you just wanted to close your legs so he wouldn't see how much he affected you. Stubborn pride still warred inside you even now. The cool air of the cabin ghosted over your exposed skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of Reiner’s breath as he leaned in, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, making your heart swell.

Reiner’s hands spread your thighs wider, his thumbs brushing over the damp curls between them. His breath stuttered when he saw how wet you were, his fingers tracing your folds with agonizing slowness.

“Fuck,” he muttered, voice wrecked.

He kissed at your inner thighs some more, almost like he just couldn't get enough of the simple action. He'd lick at them, suck them, anything. Reiner was willing to drag this out, it seemed.

"Has anyone ever done this for you before?" Reiner asked, his tone carrying a mix of emotions, staring up at you with his pretty hazel eyes as he kissed at the soft skin of your thighs. Deep down, he selfishly hoped no one else had gotten to see you like this—feel you like this.

Your breath hitched at the sight, unable to pull your gaze away and similarly unable to stop your arousal and need as you felt yourself wet the sheets beneath you even further. "I don't see how that's any of your business," you replied stubbornly, wanting to keep the small amount of control you still held.

That gave Reiner all the answer he needed. "Hm," he responded, careful not to anger you, careful not to upset you. but also understanding and seeing just how much you wanted this—wanted him. And equally he was exceptionally aware of the way his cock twitched in his pants, desperate to make you feel good, desperate to feel your thighs around his head and your fingers against his scalp, desperate to hear you in these moments he's imagined you in so many times.

Reiner didn’t wait for another teasing remark from you—his mouth was on you in an instant, his tongue dragging a slow, filthy stripe up your soaked cunt, groaning against you like he’d been starving for this. The sound alone made your back arch off the bunk, a sharp gasp tearing from your lips as his hands clamped down on your thighs, holding you open for him.

He was messy—no finesse, no practiced rhythm, just pure, desperate hunger. His tongue lapped at you like he was trying to memorize your taste, his nose pressing against your clit as he buried his face between your legs. Every flick of his tongue was sloppy, wet, loud, the obscene sounds of his mouth working you filling the tiny cabin. You could feel his stubble scraping against your sensitive skin, the rough drag only making the pleasure sharper, more overwhelming.

“Fuck—Reiner—” Your fingers tangled in his blonde hair, gripping hard as his tongue circled your clit before sucking it between his lips. His groan vibrated through you, his hands sliding under your ass to tilt your hips up, giving him better access as he devoured you.

He was relentless, like he’d been waiting years for this—because he had. Every muffled sound he made against your cunt, every time his tongue plunged inside you only to drag back up, every time his lips sealed around your clit to suck—it was all too much, and yet you never wanted it to stop.

His enthusiasm was almost embarrassing, the way he moaned into you like he was the one being pleasured, his hips moving against his hand as he rubbed his cock through his pants. You could feel the wetness of your own arousal smeared across his chin, and the sight alone had your thighs trembling around his head.

Drool mixed with your arousal, dripping down his chin as he ate you out like a man possessed. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you wider, keeping you open for him as his tongue plunged inside you, fucking into you with rough, eager strokes before retreating to suck your clit again.

"Taste so good," he panted against you, his voice wrecked. "Fuck, fuck, I knew you would—"

His words cut off into a groan as he redoubled his efforts, his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit before he sealed his lips around it again, sucking hard. The wet, filthy sounds of his mouth on you filled the cabin, obscene and perfect, and you could feel the way his hips rocked slightly against the bunk, rutting into nothing as he got off on just tasting you.

"Been thinking about this—" he rasped, pulling back just enough to speak before diving back in, his tongue circling your clit in tight, relentless circles. "—every night—"

His fingers dug into your thighs, leaving marks as he held you down, refusing to let you squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure.

"Close," you choked out, your hips jerking against his mouth. "I’m so close—"

Reiner growled, the sound vibrating through you as he sucked your clit into his mouth one last time, his tongue flicking over it rapidly—

And then you were coming, your back bowing off the bunk as pleasure crashed through you in waves. He didn’t let up, licking you through it, swallowing every drop of you as you shuddered and gasped above him.

When you finally went limp, panting, he pulled back just enough to look up at you.

His chest heaved, his eyes dark with need. But above that, it was like he needed some confirmation he did good.

"Fuck," he breathed. "Are you okay?"

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him up your body until his weight settled over you, pressing you deeper into the thin mattress. His skin was fever-hot, his muscles taut with restraint, but his eyes—those damn hazel eyes—were soft, almost reverent, as he looked down at you.

You didn't answer, not verbally at least.

Your hand slid into his hair, gripping tight as you dragged his mouth to yours, kissing him deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue. A rough groan tore from his throat, his hips jerking forward instinctively, the hard length of his cock grinding against your still-sensitive clit through his pants.

His groan was muffled against your mouth as you licked into him, your fingers tightening in his hair. You could feel the way his body shuddered when you nipped at his bottom lip, the way his hips jerked forward instinctively, grinding his cock—so fucking hard against your thigh.

“God, you’re—” His voice broke as you kissed him again, rougher this time, your teeth dragging over his lip. His hands gripped your waist, fingers digging in like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go. “Fuck, I need—please—”

"Reiner," you breathed, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "Please fuck me."

You could feel it—the way his entire body trembled with the effort of holding back, the way his breath came in ragged bursts against your mouth. His hands fumbled with his belt, his fingers shaking as he undid the buckle, his cock springing free, thick and flushed and aching for you.

Reiner didn’t waste another second.

He hooked his hands under your knees, spreading you wider, his gaze locked on where your slick glistened between your thighs. His breath hitched, his cock twitching against your stomach as he lined himself up, the blunt head pressing against your entrance.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his voice rough.

You did.

His eyes burned into yours as he pushed inside, slow, so agonizingly slow, his jaw clenched tight as he fought to keep control. The stretch was delicious, the way your walls fluttered around him making his hips stutter.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, his fingers digging into your thighs. “You feel—Christ—you feel even better than I imagined.”

And then he was seated fully inside you, his hips flush against yours, his cock buried to the hilt. For a moment, neither of you moved—just breathed, just felt, the weight of years of longing crashing over you both.

Then—because he needed to see it, needed to know this was real—he leaned back on his heels, pulling out almost all the way just to watch the way your cunt clung to him, glistening and desperate, before slamming back in. His cock disappeared inside you, your wetness coating his dick as your body stretched to take him.

The sound you made was sinful.

Reiner’s hips snapped forward again, harder this time, his cock dragging against your walls in a way that made your toes curl. His grip shifted from your wrist to your hip, holding you in place as he fucked into you with slow, deep strokes—like he was savoring every second, like he wanted to memorize the way your body took him.

His dick glistened with your arousal, disappearing inside you with each thrust, your cunt gripping him like it was made for him. He couldn’t look away—couldn’t stop the way his breath hitched as he watched himself fuck into you, over and over, your body taking him so perfectly.

Reiner’s rhythm was relentless, each deep stroke dragging a gasp from your lips. His broad palm slid down your stomach, fingers gliding through your slick until his thumb found your clit, rubbing tight, rough circles that made your toes curl.

"There you go," he murmured, voice thick with praise as he watched your face twist in pleasure. "So fucking pretty when you take me like this. Can’t believe you’re real—can’t believe I get to have you."

You whimpered, your hips lifting to meet his thrusts, desperate for more, for everything. Reiner moaned at the way your body clenched around him, his thumb pressing harder against your clit.

"Love the way you take me," he panted, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. "Like you were made for me, huh? Made to take my cock just like this—shit—"

Then, without warning, he leaned forward, his chest pressing flush against yours, his weight pinning you completely beneath him. The new angle made him sink deeper, his cock hitting a spot inside you that had your vision whiting out for a second.

"There," he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. "That’s it, sweetheart. Let me have you just like this—fuck—"

His thrusts turned slower but impossibly harder, each one dragging a broken moan from your lips. His fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head back so he could kiss you again, swallowing your gasps like he needed them to survive.

He braced himself above you, muscles taut, sweat glistening on his skin as he watched your face—every flutter of your lashes, every bitten-off moan—like he was memorizing you all over again.

His hips rolled into yours with a deep, almost reverent grind, pressing so deep you could feel him in your ribs. Your breath hitched as he lingered there, his tip nudging that perfect, aching spot inside you before pulling back with a slow, torturous drag that made your toes curl.

"Feel how deep I am?" he breathed, his fingers tightening on your hip as he rocked into you again, slow and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. "Fuck, you’re perfect."

His voice was wrecked, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. But he didn’t rush—just kept moving inside you with that same maddening pace, every thrust a sweet torment.

"Could stay like this forever," he admitted, his lips brushing your jaw. "Just like this—buried inside you, feeling you clench around me like you never wanna let me go."

"Reiner," you whined.

"I've got you," he responded, hips never stopping.

And when your back arched, your body tightening around him, he didn’t speed up—just kept fucking you through it, his lips pressed to your neck, whispering praise as pleasure washed over you in waves.

Reiner’s thrusts grew more erratic, his control slipping as your walls fluttered around him, pulling him deeper with each desperate clench. His breath came in ragged gasps, his forehead pressed against yours as he fought to hold on just a little longer.

“I—fuck—I’m close,” he groaned, his voice rough with need. His fingers dug into your hips, his rhythm faltering as pleasure coiled tight in his gut.

You arched beneath him, nails scraping down his back as you panted, “Inside… please, Reiner—I want you to cum inside me.”

His entire body tensed at your words, a shudder running through him. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own dark with lust and something dangerously close to worship.

“Are you—fuck—are you sure?” he rasped, hips stuttering as he struggled to keep his pace steady.

You nodded, biting your lip as you clenched around him deliberately, drawing a broken groan from his lips.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Want to feel you—all of you.”

That was all it took.

Reiner’s restraint shattered.

"Fuck—gonna fill you up so good," he panted, his forehead dropping against yours. "Gonna make sure you feel it—"

You clenched around him, your own climax building again, and he cursed, his rhythm faltering.

"Come with me," he demanded, his voice wrecked. "Wanna feel you cum on my cock while I’m deep inside you—fuck—please—"

His words tipped you over the edge. Pleasure crashed through you, your body tightening around him in waves, and Reiner lost it.

With a growl that was almost feral, he slammed into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pulsed inside you, hot and thick. His body shuddered violently, his fingers gripping you like a lifeline as he spilled deep, his release filling you in waves.

You could feel him pulsing inside you, his cock twitching as he rode out his orgasm, his forehead pressed to yours. When he finally stilled, he didn’t pull away—just stayed there, his body heavy and warm against yours, his breath slowly steadying.

After a long moment, he lifted his head, his gaze soft as he brushed a sweaty strand of hair from your face.

"Okay?" he murmured, his thumb tracing your cheekbone.

You nodded, your fingers lazily tracing the muscles of his back.

Reiner exhaled, something like relief—or maybe wonder—flickering in his eyes before he leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips.

"Good," he murmured against your mouth.

You lay in comfortable silence for what felt like hours but was likely only minutes, Reiner's weight pressing you into the thin mattress, his breath warm against your neck. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin, as though memorizing the feel of you. Neither of you wanted to break the spell, to acknowledge the world waiting outside this small cabin.

"I love you," you whispered finally, the words escaping before you could think better of them. They hung in the air between you, raw and honest.

Reiner stilled, his breath catching. Slowly, he raised himself up on his elbows to look at you, his hazel eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip. For a terrible moment, you thought you'd said too much, revealed too much of yourself to someone who had once betrayed you.

But then his expression softened, a genuine smile—one you hadn't seen in years—spreading across his face. "I love you too," he said, his voice steady and sure. "I always have."

He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. "I know it doesn't change anything," he murmured. "I know it doesn't make up for what I did. But it's true."

His eyes grew serious again. "Whatever happens with Eren, with the Rumbling… I'm going to protect you. I promise."

Before you could respond, a sharp knock at the door made you both jump.

"Hey, you two done?" Connie's voice called through the thin wood. "There's food up on the deck if you're interested. Kinda limited, but better than nothing."

You and Reiner exchanged wide-eyed looks before scrambling to get dressed, movements frantic and clumsy in the small space. Your fingers fumbled with buttons and clasps as you tried to make yourselves presentable.

"Uh, yeah," Reiner called back, his voice remarkably steady considering his panicked expression. "We'll be right there."

You could hear the smirk in Connie's voice as he replied, "Take your time. Not like we can hear everything through these paper-thin walls or anything."

Your face burned as you hurriedly tucked in your shirt. Reiner looked equally mortified, though a small, almost boyish grin played at the corners of his mouth when your eyes met.

"Ready?" he asked softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You nodded, taking a deep breath before opening the door. Connie was waiting in the narrow corridor, a knowing grin splitting his face. Without a word, he turned and headed up the stairs, gesturing for you both to follow.

Reiner went first, and you couldn't help but notice the way Connie immediately engaged him in animated conversation as they climbed, acting as though nothing unusual had happened at all. Their voices faded slightly as they reached the deck above.

Jean appeared at your side as you finished climbing the stairs.

"So," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I take it the talk went well?"

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. "Yeah, really well," you replied, hoping that Connie was just teasing and no one else heard a thing.

"I just mean," he continued, a stupid and annoying grin on your face, "when I suggested you two clear the air, I didn't necessarily mean you should bring down the whole ship with your—"

Your face burned with embarrassment and fury. "I will literally throw you overboard, Jean," you hissed, shoving his shoulder hard enough to make him stumble back. "I swear to God—"

Jean laughed, ducking away from your next swing. "Hey, I'm happy for you guys! Honestly!" He held up his hands in surrender, still grinning as he backed up the stairs. "Just doing my part as your friend to give you shit about it."

[dumbmusclehypnojockboy]

Audition

Author's note: @transform4u requested a story, so this one's for him. This is kind of a departure fore me. It's mostly done in first person, which I don't usually do. I hope you enjoy it.

“I wish I didn’t have to remember all these lines,” the words came out as a whisper.  A soft breeze blew in the theater.  “Granted,” it seems to say in the wind that chilled you to the bone.  The words on the script faded away, being replaced with a signed contract with a television company.  Something about documenting your life for the next few months.  Leaving your home and going to a time-share with some other people.  You look at the paperwork confused.  A buzz infiltrating your brain. 

“Rocko”, the director calls me.  I’m confused.  Isn’t my name Richard?  “Rocko Salvatori?  On stage please.”  He looks at me and I head up to the stage for an audition? 

The director looks at me and asks, “Hello, Rocko.  Your resume says your favorite hobby is working out?  Can you tell me about that?”

“Working out?  No, I mean,” images of the time I’ve spent in the gym, dedicating time and sweat and tears to making my pecs and bis grow.  Never skipping leg day.  Always taking creatine mixed with pre workout, downing protein shakes and doing endless crunches...  Gotta take care of the “situation”. 

“Yeah,” I say.  “I go to the gym five days a week.  Can you tell?” 

I flex a bicep that seems to grow out of nowhere.  Ten inches around turns in to 12 inches, turns in to 15 inches, turns in to 20 inches.  I flex my pecs.  Since when do I flex my pecs, I ask myself?  My pecs inflate with newfound muscle.  Growing to a whopping 50 inches around. 

I find my body stretching taller…  legs more so resembling long logs, stretching to the sky, torso stretching out, getting rid of the pudge that used to be there, and developing in to 8 separate rocks, an 8-pack of abs. 

My dick growing longer and longer now resembling a beer bottle in length and girth.  “Fuck yeah, I work out, bro,”  I say. 

The director asks, “I also see that you’ve done some modeling?”

Images of past gigs fill my memory.  That time I was flown down to Cancun to appear on a show for MTV Spring Break.  That photo shoot for a young adult clothing brand.  That one time he posed for Exercise for Men Only.  “Yeah, bro,” you find yourself saying.  “I aced modeling.”  Your face reshapens.  Jawline becoming sharper.  Cheeks becoming  accented, less round, more angular.  Eye brows becoming shaped, more perfect.  Teeth whitening, glowing, straightening.  Eyes becoming more clear, turning from blue to a sharp glowing brown.  Stuble growing around your chin and mouth area.  Your thick black hair standing straight up, held up with a precise amount of Spiker hair gel and a 16-second spray of Got 2 B hair shaper and molder.  You give ducklips pose to the director, and bring out your phone to take a selfie and post it on Instagram. 

The director clears his throat.  “Under life philosophy you just wrote GTL.  What does that mean?”

“Bruh,” you say, your brain rearranging information.  Reprogramming your memories, your thoughts, making you a different person. 

“Bruh, it’s a way of life.  A philosophical kind of being.  Gym, Tan Laundry.  You gotta take care of your bod… your pecs, bis, and abs… I like to look fresh, so everything has to go in to it.  You know, you have to go to the gym the whole week.  Tan.  You have to have color if you didn’t go to the beach.  And then the last thing you need to take care of is the outfit.  You gotta look fresh, you know.  If you don’t look good, you ain’t gonna feel good bro, and then you ain’t gonna have a good night.”

 You give in to the words that are coming out of your mouth.   Gym.Tan.Laundry=LIFE, bruh,  Fuck yeah.  Gotta be FTD, Fresh To Death.  Looking for hunnies DTF.  Down To Fuck.  Hell yeah!  The thoughts running through your head.

“Rocko,” the director says, “it says here that you identify as a Guido?  Can you tell me about that?”

The words go through my head.  Guido… Guido…  Fuck Yeah, I’m a fucking Guido.!  I GTL all day and am DTF all night.  I go out FTD, and get all the pussy I want.  I am so Hot, So Fresh.  I’m a fucking Guido.  “I’m a Guido.  What’s there to explain?  I work out, tan and clean up fresh.  I go out and party all night and bring home the PU-NA-NI, you know what I mean?  And I have over three million followers on my social media.”

Red flashes over the director’s eyes, and a demonic façade flashes over the director’s face, just for a second.  “You’ll be perfect for the next generation of our new reality show, Rocko.”

[bunniesanddeer]

Hi! I hope you’re having a wonderful day or night.

I saw your asks are open and I had an idea. What if it’s a protective Alastor x Reader who is the daughter of a protective Lucifer? Maybe she kept in contact with her dad so they are closer and she is older than Charlie. When Lucifer comes to visit the hotel him and Alastor cause some drama

Thanks!

W.P💚

I hope this is what you were looking for? I am very new to doing things like this!

Daddy's Girl

Pairing: Alastor X Lucifer's Daughter! Reader

Tags: Sisterly love, some sexual connotations, spoilers, some angst maybe? idk, swearing, Mimzy.

SPOILERS FOR "DAD BEAT DAD"

Word Count: 1,775

The hotel was eerily quiet when you awoke, so you made your way downstairs to see if anyone was awake. All you could hear as you made your way down the stairs was your quiet footfalls and weird murmuring. As you turned towards the sitting area, you realized the muttering was coming from your younger sister, Charlie.

Charlie was pacing back and forth in front of a pin board covered in colorful papers, and strings. She tugged at her hair, her muttering growing more frantic. As you took in the scene, you realized there were a few people standing and watching her. Niffty was bouncing on the couch, her face full of a strange glee. Husk and Sir Pentious were watching with mixes of bafflement and curiosity.

“Hey, Char Char? Are you ok?” You asked, walking around the couch to get a better view. You saw Angel and Vaggie approach from your peripherals as Charlie whipped around frantically.

“Nope! No. Not really! Haha. Hah…” Her false smile falls as she rips a page off the board. “I have been up all night trying to figure out why the hotel isn’t working! We’ve done every single trust exercise and arts and crafts project I could find! We’ve talked about our feelings and… nothing is working!”

You frown. You knew that things taking so long would eventually get to her, but it was sad to see just how severely. She needed more help. 

You walk up to your sister, and set your hands on her shoulders. “I think…”

Her expression collapses. “Please don’t say it.”

“We should call dad. And ask for his help.”

She winces. She clearly doesn’t want your dad’s help. You can’t exactly blame her, either. The two of you were raised a little separate, and it had affected her relationship with Lucifer pretty badly. Although, you were older, and it had afforded you time with Lucifer before Lilith had started to separate herself from him. Charlie had only had a handful of years before their relationship went south. It showed in her anxiety with him, and Lucifer’s inability to talk to Charlie openly. It made you sad, but you weren’t sure how to fix that rift.

“He’s the reason the extermination happens to begin with! He just let it happen! He doesn’t even like sinners! Why would he help me?” Charlie hugs herself, looking off to the side. “He’s always preferred you anyway.”

You hear some audible winces from the audience by the couch, but you ignore them. You pull her into a tight hug, her taller frame putting you at her collarbones. “You know I would change that if I could, honey.” You squeeze her tightly and say, “We can at least see if he can get you a meeting. Anything to give you the advantage, Char Char.”

She sighs, and hugs you back. “Yeah. I guess we can at least try.”

You pull back. “I think you should call him. I bet he’s dying to hear from you, even though he sucks at showing it.”

Charlie rubs her arm and nods. “Alright. I’ll do it!”

As she struggles to start the phone call, Husk makes comments about her having ‘Daddy Issues’, and you blanch. How rude! (Even if it was true). The others make comments about meeting Lucifer, but you and Vaggie just keep your eyes on Charlie. She seems so nervous, and it makes your stomach twist in knots. 

She finally calls. It rings three times before a faint, “Heyyyy bitch!” rings out on the other end of the line. You facepalm. Good going Dad.

When all is said and done, Lucifer announces he is visiting within the hour, after much cajoling and guilt-tripping on Charlie’s part. Although, from what you could hear, he seemed excited.

Charlie is excited, and so is everyone else in the hotel. You cheer for her, and then the realization hits you. 

Alastor. Fuck.

As the final touches are finished, you sidle up to Alastor with a small grin.

“Please, please don’t start shit. Charlie needs this to work. And I need this to work for Charlie,” you murmur to him. 

He barely glances at you. “Worry not, sweetheart! You know I would never do anything to risk the reputation of the hotel! Charlie will get the help she needs!” His arm wraps around your shoulders, and he squeezes you into his side. For just a moment, his head ducks down, and he whispers into your ear. “Just need to make it clear whose little girl you are now.” Then he perks right back up like nothing happened.

Your face burns hot. How dare he! But you don’t get to do anything in retaliation, because Charlie is opening the door.

“Chaaaaarlie!” Lucifer exclaims, immediately pulling her into a tight embrace. Your sister’s face is full of shock, and you just want to laugh. Ha! You were right! He continues talking to her in the slightest baby voice, and you can’t help but let some giggles escape you. Your dad could be just so silly! “Oh, it’s so good to see you!”

He lets go of Charlie as she welcomes him to the hotel. He spots Keekee first, and pets her. Then greets Razzle and Dazzle. You watch from the sidelines with a small smile. It was nice seeing your dad outside the home. He had been holing himself up for so long… You look up at Alastor, who hasn’t moved an inch since your dad came in.

You elbow him gently. “You okay?”

Alasotr’s expression is tight. His eyes flicker to you for a moment, before landing back on your father. He merely hums in response, making you frown. How odd… You knew the two wouldn’t get along, but for Alastor to dislike him already?

 Then your dad spots the bar. “Oh! What in the unholy Hell is that?” 

Alastor immediately shadow-walks to the other side of the room, and you know it’s time to intervene.

“Oh! Just some of the renovations we’ve made.” Alastor gestures with his mic, before continuing. “Adds a bit of color, don’t you think?” 

You wince, and make your way to Alastor’s side. 

“Hey, Dad,” you say, trying to prevent your dad making any further comments on the decor. That's a good way to piss off Alastor.

“Sweetheart!” Your dad runs up to you, and tries picking you up. You laugh at the tights squeeze. “How’s my girl?” His hands squish your cheeks, making it hard to respond.

You giggle through the ministrations, and finally push his hands back so you can respond. “I’m doing great, Dad. Figured I should introduce you to Alastor here.” You gesture to Alastor, who looks the closest to not smiling that you have ever seen. It makes your stomach feel like lead, as you keep talking. “He’s our facilities' manager, and my…”

Your voice trails off, and you look at Alastor, as if hoping he has the word you are looking for.

“I’m her lover!” Alastor exclaims, quite loudly. His static drops for a moment and then bursts back up in volume, making you wince. Great. He just announced that to everyone in the room. The ‘everyone’ being everyone who didn’t know. You can hear Charlie ‘whoop!’ in the background, and several variations of ‘what the fuck’. “She’s quite the darling. I just couldn’t resist this sweet face!” Alastor grabs at your cheeks, similar to how your dad did, and squishes them. “See?”

You risk a glance at your dad. He looks ready to kill. Fuck. This is absolutely not how you wanted to tell your dad. He nearly killed the last partner you had for ghosting you. You can see your dad’s horns growing, and you push Alastor back.

“Haha! Yeah. Uh. Sorry. I would have told you before now, but we’re kind of new! We were trying to keep it on the down-low for now but…” You glare at Alastor, but he just has this shit-eating grin on his face, and you know he doesn’t care. 

“Right.” Your dad continues glaring at Alastor. You wince, and decide to go over by the snack table. Angel is just giving you this look, and you know he will be asking about Alastor’s dick, which you have not seen, later. Husk seems disappointed in you, and you absolutely know why. You just give him an apologetic shrug, and watch as Alastor and your dad seem to start a pissing match. 

It ends with Alastor in his face saying, “Fuck you,” and your knees nearly give out. Holy shit. 

Charlie finally intervenes, and Lucifer, after some more glaring at Alastor, get her to introduce him to the rest of the residents.

Alastor lays a hand on your shoulder as your dad greets both the guests and the staff. You can feel his thumb rubbing back and forth, and it sends shivers down your spine. You look up at Alastor, but his gaze is still locked on your dad. Annoyed, you roll your eyes with a huff, and look back to the meet-and-greet. Your dad is looking back at you, his frown deep, and a barely audible growl making its way to your ears. Your dad is fucking growling at Alastor. What the Hell?

A rumble builds up in Alastor’s chest, and you can feel it against your back. This one sets heat back up to your face. Gosh, this man needed to get his shit together. No need to start stuff with your dad! Alastor’s hand tightens on your shoulder, before he lets go and stalks back towards Charlie, who is trying to convince your dad to help her. 

And then they’re singing. Because of course. Alastor joins in, saying some things that seem to really piss off your dad, but you can't hear much over the blood rushing in your ears. Sometimes these two could be so embarrassing. When your dad pulls out the golden fiddle, you nearly die laughing. (He still wasn’t over losing that one time!) Everything comes to a head, with the two men yelling insults in each other's faces, when suddenly-

“It’s ME!” A woman barges in through the lobby doors, yelling and calling herself Mimzy. She’s blonde, and dressed like a flapper. Alastor seems to recognize her, so you don’t worry. 

Later that night, when your dad has finally agreed to help your sister get that meeting, you all settle onto the couches, making a game plan. Alastor sits beside you, one foot resting on the other knee. You lean over and ask softly, “What did you say during that song, anyway?”

Alastor’s grin sharpens, and he presses his lips near your ear, again. “Charlie calls me dad, and your eldest calls me Daddy.”

If you nearly choke on your own spit, you refuse to admit it. 

[quickspinner]

Around the World and Back to You

This is my extremely late Secret Admirer fic for @belledaynight!

The prompt I went with was reunion as adults after crime fighting days are done, and I really had to think how I could make this different from when I've written these in the past, and I ended up following canon farther down the timeline than I normally would. For those avoiding later seasons, in season 5 Luka left Paris, and ended up training as a Guardian. So, I put some thought into how that would affect a reunion later on, and here's what I've got.

Ugh, what a day it had been, but then, was there any other kind for Marinette Dupain-Cheng?

She cheated and took the elevator, which she did at least half the time despite her resolve to use the stairs as much as possible. It was hard when she had had a long day, and her hands were full of stuff she had picked up on the way home because there was no such thing as ���just popping in for one thing” in Marinette’s world. She decided, as she stepped through the doors,  that stairs-vs-elevator was just not something she needed to torture herself over. It wasn’t like she didn’t get plenty of exercise.

At least it would be a quiet night, for once. Marinette wrestled her way into the apartment and sighed, leaning against the door to close it. The lights were on, but that was normal, since she always left them on for—

“Don’t freak out.”

“WAAAAH!” Marinette screeched, her things tumbling from her arms as she whirled around, realized she was facing the door, and whirled again, flailing for a moment before finding a defensive stance. 

When she finally comprehended what she was looking at, she felt momentarily dizzy with confusion as past and present collided behind her eyes. It had been more than ten years since she had stepped over the raised lip of the Liberty’s cabin door before being startled in exactly the same way—and by the same boy. Man. Which was it?

Reality slowly resolved itself as she stared at Luka Couffaine, sitting cross-legged on her couch and regarding her calmly, hands on his knees. His shoulders were broader and his face was leaner, more adult than it had been and with an even darker tan, but it was unmistakably him. It didn’t help her confusion that he still wore blue streaks in his hair and a ratty tshirt, and his knees still peeked through the holes of his jeans. A hoodie lay over the arm of the couch beside him. 

His chuckle was the same, too, and his words proved he was thinking of that moment just as she was. “Sorry. Ma-Ma-Marinette.” He grinned, and unfolded himself to stand up and hold out his arms. “I’ve missed you.”

“L-Luka,” Marinette breathed, and then grinned herself, rushing into his arms for the hug he offered. He squeezed her tight, chuckling again as he rested his cheek on the top of her head. He was taller than he had been, and though still lanky, she could feel the firm muscle of his back beneath her hands. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, pulling back to look up at his face. “I haven’t seen you in ages! How long are you back in Paris for?” 

Luka let her slide out of his embrace and brought one hand to the back of his head, tugging lightly on his hair as he gathered himself to answer her question.

“Well, all of that’s kind of related, actually,” he told her. 

“How did you find me?” Marinette demanded, and Luka hooked a thumb back over his shoulder, and Marinette followed the motion to the staff leaning against the wall. The sight of it made her gut grow cold, and she swallowed, eyes flicking back to Luka. He tilted his head slightly, and she knew he had noticed her reaction, but his eyes slid away and he let it pass without comment. He coughed lightly, and looked at the floor. 

“Technically, I found the kwamis,” he said, giving her another lopsided grin. He tugged his hair again before lowering his hands deliberately. His self-consciousness made Marinette feel the same. “I’m sorry I didn’t call first. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to say.” 

“That’s okay.” Marinette shook her head, and found mustering a smile harder than it should have been, but she managed it. “I’m just glad to see you. Um, give me a minute to change, and…?” And what? She didn’t know, but Luka waved a hand, absolving her of the need to come up with something.

“Go ahead. Do whatever you need to do. I’m not going anywhere.” 

For how long? Marinette wanted to ask, but instead she just gathered up her things she had dropped, and moved past Luka to her bedroom.

“Um,” Luka said, and Marinette half-turned. “I could order dinner? I know I’m interrupting your plans, so…” 

“I didn’t really have a plan,” Marinette admitted. He raised an eyebrow, and she amended, “Not for dinner, anyway. There’s some menus in the kitchen drawer.”

“Color code still the same?” he asked, clearly fighting another smile, and Marinette blushed. 

“Yes,” she said, and went into her bedroom before he could say anything else. She locked the door, and the click made her feel a little better, even though the Luka she had known would never have followed her without knocking. 

That was a long time ago, though, and the Guardians as a whole had well-known issues with boundaries. She wondered if Luka knew that this was one of those obscure kwami holidays where they all gathered in the Miracle Box overnight - or longer. The kwamis often had a loose grasp of time. Had Luka come tonight on purpose, so they wouldn’t be interrupted?

She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. 

Marinette decided to go ahead and take a shower to give herself a little extra time before she had to face Luka again. She almost wished she hadn’t decided to change. Her work clothes lent her a professionalism she never would have thought she needed in front of Luka, but…

He was a Guardian now, and so was she, though she had never really felt like one. She was a Guardian and a holder, which was technically forbidden, and somehow visits from the Guardians had never gone well for her.

It had been a shock when Luka had returned to Paris as Su Han’s pupil, but Marinette understood why he had done it. She always had. He was trying to help in the only way he could think of, and he had helped, while she needed him. After that, though…he’d kind of disappeared. She got postcards from him for a while, but they were always short and not very Luka-like, and eventually they stopped all together. She had moved a few times, and had no way to send Luka her new address, so she wasn’t sure if the cards just didn’t get forwarded anymore or if Luka had stopped sending them. He could have sent them to the bakery, though, knowing they would get to her eventually, and…he hadn’t.

She reached for a clean pair of jeans without even thinking about it. Normally she would have worn something fuzzy and comfortable after she got home, and with the old Luka, she wouldn’t have hesitated. But this wasn’t the old Luka, this was Guardian Luka, even if he didn’t dress like it, and after all they were adults now, adults who hadn’t seen each other in years. Instinctively she knew they were not on pajama terms. She grabbed a soft shirt she had made that was comfortable but decorative, ruffled at the bottom and embroidered around the collar. Hangout clothes, but not too casual. 

Luka was just opening the door for the delivery when Marinette emerged, and for a moment there was natural occupation and conversation as they got dinner set up. It felt comfortable, in those moments, and they smiled at each other across Marinette’s small table as they sat down.

Silence fell between them once they started eating though. Luka was glancing at her from under his hair periodically. He had always understood her, and it had always been a relief before, but now she felt afraid of his insights.

“So,” she said, with an attempt at brightness. “How’s the Guardian life?” 

“It’s…interesting,” he answered, stirring the noodles on his plate. “The travel is nice. I’ve been a lot of really cool places, met some really cool people.” Another one of those darting glances, and then a tentative grin. “The rules kinda suck, though.” 

Marinette snorted, and covered her mouth full of food with her hand as she tried not to choke. Luka covered his own mouth to smother a laugh, and in a moment they were giggling together. 

“You don’t have to tell me that,” Marinette gasped, when she was able. 

“I know.” Luka’s grin was full force and sincere, now, and he was looking directly at her. “That’s why I can tell you. It feels good to be able to admit it.” 

Marinette felt a pang of sympathy. “It must be hard for you, having to keep so many secrets.” 

Luka nodded, gaze dropping to his plate. “Definitely not one of my favorite parts of the job. And as cool as the travel is, I miss home. I miss having a home. I mean, there’s the temple, but it’s…” He shook his head. 

“Not your style?” Marinette suggested, and Luka nodded.

“Exactly. I mean, Tibet is gorgeous, and there’s a lot about it I love, but it’s not home.” He reached out a hand tentatively across the table. “And I miss my friends.” 

Marinette couldn’t not meet him halfway after that, and she put her hand in his and squeezed. “I’m glad they haven’t changed you too much,” she blurted, without meaning to, and then winced. “I mean—” 

“No, that’s fair.” Luka gave her hand one more squeeze before releasing it. “They definitely tried.” He shook his head, like he was shaking off memories that she could only guess at. 

Before she could decide whether or not to ask, Luka smiled at her. “We can talk about all that later,” he said. “I want to hear about you. Tell me everything you’ve been up to.” 

Marinette hesitated. “What do you want to know?”

Luka leaned forward a little, still smiling. “What are you most excited to tell me?”

That was an easy question, and Marinette laughed. Once she committed to a topic, the rest was easy. Luka was such a good listener, and he always seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. He asked thoughtful questions, gave her time to right herself when she got tangled up in what she was trying to say, and his eyes stayed fixed on her. Not in an uncomfortable way like the bewildered stare she got from most people, but in a way that made her feel like she held all of his attention in that moment. 

It felt…really good to be listened to, and she felt herself relaxing into something more like their old comfortable camaraderie. Luka was still Luka, after all, she thought, as she made them both hot chocolate after dinner.

“So,” Marinette said, sitting down on the couch beside him. She handed him his mug and folded her legs up beside her, not caring anymore that it made her lean towards him a little bit. “Are you going to tell me why you’re here?” 

Luka sighed, and sipped the chocolate before setting the mug down on her coffee table. “I don’t think you’re going to like it.” Before Marinette could do more than freeze in fear, he added quickly, “I’m not here to take the Miracle Box.” He smiled as she relaxed. “You are Ladybug. I can’t imagine anybody else for the job. You’ve protected the Miracle Box and you’ve used the kwami’s powers for good.” He chuckled. “The Guardians are a little sour about it, actually, because you’re so…unconventional. To them, at least.” 

Marinette groaned, letting her head fall back, and Luka laughed, putting a hand on her shoulder. She lifted her head and smiled at him, touched by the old gesture.“So what are you here for, then?” 

Luka withdrew his hand. “I’m here for Nooroo,” he replied simply, watching her.

Marinette tensed up again. “What do you mean?” she asked - demanded, really, though she didn’t mean to be so sharp with Luka.

Luka raised his hands placatingly. “I know that he’s been through a lot. That’s why we’ve let him be for the last ten years.” It gave her a little chill to hear him say we. As unconventional as Luka might be, he was still a Guardian, and Marinette was sure he held whatever promises he had made to the order sacred. “The Order has…well, I guess you could say it’s a ‘get back on the horse’ philosophy. When a kwami’s been treated badly, they don’t like to leave them alone for too long. Healing is one thing, wallowing is another, as one of them put it.” He hesitated, and then admitted, “Honestly, they wanted to do it sooner, and I’ve actually talked them into holding off a couple of times. I wanted to make sure that we find him the right holder, after everything he’s been through. I know how much you must care about him, just like you care about everyone you protect, and I didn’t want to let you down by rushing into something that might not be right.”

Marinette felt heat flush her face, and couldn’t hold his gaze. Luka put a hand on her back. “I think I’ve found someone that will work for him. I want you to meet her first.”

“Her?” Marinette said automatically, looking up. Luka nodded, and then sighed dramatically, raising his hands helplessly.

“It’s my lot in life to be surrounded by powerful women,” he said mournfully, and then grinned. “Not that I’m complaining.” 

Marinette laughed, and they both relaxed a little. 

“She’s an adult,” Luka assured her, “and she has a very nurturing nature, but she’s suffered in the past when people have taken advantage of that. Even so, she still believes in people. I think she and Nooroo can help each other.”

Marinette’s lips thinned as she thought about it. “What about Nooroo’s choice? It doesn’t count to the Order, does it?”

“It counts to me,” Luka said firmly, and there was an authority in his voice that made Marinette blink in surprise. He folded his arms. “That’s one of the things I fight most with the Order about. I won’t force a kwami to take on a holder. Ever. They have few enough choices already, and I’m still not convinced the entire existence of the Miraculous isn’t unethical.” He sighed. “But I can’t change everything at once. The fact is the Order needs me and my connections and understanding of the modern world, so I have some leverage to do things my own way, but it only goes so far. Freeing the kwamis would be such a radical change in their thinking that I don’t think they can even conceive of it.” He gave a lopsided grin. “Yet.” 

Marinette felt a smile spreading across her face. “They really haven’t managed to change you, have they?”

“I hope not,” Luka shrugged. “Not so much that I’d be okay with the eternal subjugation of another thinking being.” He sighed. “I can’t deny the kwamis do a lot of good in the world in the right hands. I still don’t think it’s right.” 

Impulsively, Marinette leaned forward and hugged him. “I’m glad you’re still you,” she managed to get out, and after a frozen moment of surprise, Luka’s arm’s snaked around her waist and pulled her close. He was strong, she realized, and of course he would be, having taken up martial arts training as part of being a guardian. She just…hadn’t realized she would like it so much. 

Embarrassed, she pulled away, smoothing her hair back to have something to do with her hands and maybe to erase the feel of Luka’s muscles under her palms. Her gaze crossed his and they both quickly looked away. Time had clearly dulled her memory of how intense his eyes could be when he was passionate about something. It was almost enough to make her believe he could change the Order. 

“I do want to talk to Nooroo first,” Luka continued, settling back on the couch and picking up his mug again. “I know a new holder will probably be frightening for him, and I’d like to explain and let him meet her too before I spring all of this on her.”

“Is—she’s in Paris?” Marinette frowned. “How long have you been in town?” 

“A few weeks,” he admitted. “And to be totally honest, I’ve been in Paris, or near Paris, off and on for a while now. I wanted to find a holder in or close to Paris. You’re Nooroo’s guardian, after all, and I know you’d want to be able to keep an eye on his new holder, so I tried hard to find someone here.” He glanced at her, nervous again. “I didn’t know whether you’d be happy or upset that I was back, so I put off coming to see you until I knew for sure that I had found the person I wanted.” 

Marinette looked down into her own mug, not sure herself whether she was happy or upset to hear that. He’d been so close, and he hadn’t come to see her until now.

“This way you don’t have to work with me any longer than necessary,” he added quietly. 

Marinette looked down into her mug, breathing in the scented steam. “Why do you think I don’t want to see you?” she asked, keeping her tone as even as possible.

Luka let out a little half-chuckle, half-sigh through his nose, a familiar sound that brought the past vividly back to her again. “I thought you’d be upset that I stayed away for so long. That you might have convinced yourself that I didn’t care about you anymore, and it would make you uncomfortable.” 

Marinette bit her lip, trying to decide if she wanted to ask the next question. Not for the first time, Luka answered it without her having to ask.

“I wrote you at first because I missed you, but it never felt…natural. There were so many things it wasn’t safe to talk about in a postcard, and I had a hard time getting around that to put my real thoughts down. It was never the most natural thing for me, writing. I couldn’t really send you a song.” He sipped his tea. “I didn’t make music for a while after I left Paris, actually. The whole thing with Bob Roth…it just soured the melody for me, I guess.” 

“You don’t play anymore?” Marinette ventured, unable to imagine a Luka without music, and he smiled at her.

“I do, now. I learned a few new instruments while I was traveling, and eventually I started playing guitar again.”

Marinette let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, and smiled back. “I’m glad.” Remembering his own words years ago, she added, “It’s your nature.”

Luka gave a slight nod, and then continued. “Anyway, I felt like I was never able to get things right, and you couldn’t write me back, so…eventually I just stopped. I thought maybe it was better for both of us if I just let you go.” 

“I understand,” said Marinette, trying to be cheerful, though there was a lump in her throat. “Besides, you had so much to do, and you were going so many places and seeing so many people, plus your training was so important, it would have been hard to—”

“I didn’t say it worked,” Luka interrupted, a wry amusement in his tone. “I meant it when I said I missed you.”

Marinette closed her mouth abruptly, blinking. Luka reached out and put a hand on her forearm. “I’m really glad to see you again, Marinette. I know you don’t have a lot of reason to trust Guardians, but I promise you, I’m not here to do any harm or criticize you at all. I still think you’re an exceptional holder and absolutely worthy to protect the Miracle Box. I’m still your friend, if you want me.” 

“I do,” she blurted quickly, and blushed. “I mean—”

Luka smiled, and stood up, taking his mug over to her sink. “I should go. I know you must be tired and have a thousand things to do. I just wanted to see you and explain while the kwamis are busy. If you don’t mind, I’ll come by again tomorrow to talk to Nooroo?”

“Uh, sure.” Marinette scrambled to her feet, trailing after him towards the door. He paused to pick up his staff, and then turned to face her. 

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” He put his hand on her shoulder, and his smile was both affectionate and a little sad. “Thanks for hearing me out.” 

He turned to scoop up his hoodie and went to grab his staff. As he moved towards the door, Marinette took a step forward on impulse. “Luka.” 

Luka paused, looking back. 

“I’m really glad you’re here,” she said softly. “I missed you too.” 

Luka's smile lightened, and his shoulders lowered a fraction. “Goodnight, Marinette,” he said, and she gave him a little wave as he let himself out.

“Sass, my friend.” Luka lit up, and Marinette had never seen Sass so openly happy. She couldn’t help but smile as the kwami cuddled up to Luka’s cheek, and Luka cupped a hand around him in the best hug he could give.

She turned away to give them a moment of privacy, and caught Nooroo hovering behind her. He started slightly, but Marinette smiled at him. 

“It’s okay. He’s my friend.” She held out her hand. “And I won’t let anything happen to you, anyway.”

Nooroo drifted forward, and landed in her palm, and Marinette shielded him with her other hand before turning so that Nooroo could see Luka. Luka acted like he hadn’t noticed them at all, but Marinette was pretty sure it was an act. He was giving Nooroo space to get used to him. Seeing Sass’ unbridled joy at being with Luka again might help the traumatized little butterfly god relax. 

Eventually Nooroo began peeking around Marinette’s fingers to get a better look, and only then did Luka look their way and smile. 

“Marinette,” he said warmly, and Marinette felt herself blush. She’d noticed last night that his voice was deeper than it used to be, but hearing it like that, warm and velvety around her name, made her feel suddenly all shivery. Nooroo glanced up at her and her hands jerked with the urge to toss the little empath away from her. Nooroo hurriedly looked away, but she thought he was smirking. 

Sass was definitely smirking as he flitted away back to his nest. 

Well, at least it seemed like Nooroo was feeling more comfortable.

She was glad when Luka suggested they all sit down. Nooroo perched on her knee as Luka explained the situation to him, and Marinette’s heart broke as Nooroo began to shrink into himself at the prospect of a new holder. 

“Nobody is going to force you to do anything,” Luka finished firmly. “You know that I mean that, don’t you?” After some hesitation, Nooroo nodded slowly. 

“Do you want to see her?” Luka suggested. Marinette and Nooroo both looked at him. “You could look for her,” Luka suggested, and Nooroo jolted slightly, hopping to Marinette’s other knee. 

“I would need…someone to transform with,” Nooroo said, looking at Luka with wide, frightened eyes.

“It doesn’t have to be me,” Luka told him reassuringly. “Do you trust Marinette, if she’s willing?” He looked up at Marinette for the first time since the conversation began. “If you transform with him, you’ll be able to sense the person I’m talking about. You can feel her out—literally.” 

He grinned, and Marinette couldn’t help rolling her eyes. Luka looked back at Nooroo. 

“If you don’t want to, I know Marinette won’t make you, and neither will I. I think you know, though, that she wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.” Luka gave Marinette a warm smile.

Not on purpose, Marinette thought. She’d actually had a lot of talks with Nooroo over the years, whenever she tripped over her feelings and created a mess that she didn’t intend. Unsurprisingly, he had a better grasp of human feelings than the other kwamis, and how those feelings could spur people on to do things they might not normally do. She wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t want to take this chance.

She was startled from her thoughts when Nooroo rose from her knee. Her gaze followed him as he crossed the room and disappeared in the closet. He returned with his Miraculous, and slowly, he brought it to Marinette.

Marinette took a deep breath as she accepted it, and looked at Luka. “What do I look for?”

Luka shook his head. “I can’t really tell you. It looks different to everyone. She’s…balanced, though. Steady.” He shrugged. “Just try. Look for someone…” He smiled. “Extraordinary.”

Marinette rolled her eyes with a self-conscious smile, and called for the transformation. 

It was…not what she had expected. 

“What do you see?” Luka asked softly.

“Colors,” Marinette whispered. “Patterns, I think—” She took a shuddering breath. “But it’s so dark…it’s fear, and anger, and—” She felt tears pricking her eyes. “So much pain.”

“No, it isn’t,” Luka urged. “That’s just a part of it. Nooroo’s attuned to it now after Hawkmoth’s abuse. You can look past it. You can see it as just a part of the whole. Emotions aren’t good or bad unless we perceive them that way.” He hesitated, and then said firmly, “Look at me.” 

It wasn’t so much a physical looking, as a focusing of her attention. She wrenched her mind from the dark, angry, confused colors that threatened to overcome her, and focused on the presence there beside her. 

He was…cool, and shining. His patterns didn’t clash, they flowed. Some of the dark colors were there, but they moved tranquilly along with the rest, neither consuming them nor being overcome, just…there. She saw his kindness, and his deep love for his family, the cold tide of his anger, the warm glow of his patience, and—

She gasped and looked away. It felt wrong to be able to see him this way. 

“I’m not afraid,” Luka murmured, and she knew he lied. She could see the fear tangled around the other feelings, but it was natural enough to be afraid of being so exposed, even with the people you trusted most. And he did trust her—she could see the steady pulse of it, threaded through that other thing she didn’t want to name. That was what he meant, when he said he wasn’t afraid. It was terrifying to be so exposed, but he trusted her not to use what she saw to hurt him.

Was this what it was like to be Luka? To hear what people said, but also sense what they meant that they couldn’t say? Except she needed magic for it, and Luka did it naturally. She’d never asked him whether he literally heard people’s “inner melody” or if music was just the only way he knew how to process what all his intuitive observations were telling him. Merged with Nooroo like this, she saw things in patterns and color and light - would it sound like a symphony to him?

Focus. She tore her awareness away from Luka, though her heart pounded at what she saw there. Later. She would think about that later. She reached out again eagerly, afraid to dwell on what she could see in Luka’s heart.

Without Luka as her focus, the negativity threatened to overwhelm her again, but she took slow breaths and did her best to focus on the things Luka had shown her — steadiness, peace, gentleness, love, empathy. Gradually, the pinpoints of light became clearer, the colors less muddy, and Marinette felt herself smile as the sparks of hope, loyalty, love of all kinds, generosity, and emotions she couldn’t even name began to show through…

There was one that drew her in and warmed her; it was diffuse, unfocused. Not meant for a single person but a general feeling of generosity and goodwill that reached out from a shadowed center. People were complex, after all, and it was unrealistic to expect them to be all light. There was pain, anger, regret - but they felt more neutral somehow. She remembered what Luka said about emotions not inherently being bad or good; love could be twisted, rage could be righteous. She realized she had felt this same neutrality in Luka’s aura, and understood that this person was like him in this way, able to accept her feelings without assigning judgement to them. Balanced. 

This had to be who he meant.

“I found her,” she whispered. 

She felt rather than saw Luka’s smile, a little swell of pride and affection that once again made her afraid to look at him too closely. She studied the new person instead.

“She hurts,” Marinette whispered, empathy coloring her own emotions. 

“Yes,” Luka agreed. “She hurts, but she doesn’t suffer.” 

It was true, Marinette thought, as she watched the feelings shift and swirl. The pain was a part of the person, but not the whole. Not all-consuming, as Hawkmoth’s was. It was focused - this person had given it purpose, but without Hawkmoth’s obsession. Without thinking, Marinette lifted her hand, and a white butterfly landed on it, wings placidly opening and closing as it waited. This person could do so much - could help so many. She was a worthy champion.

Marinette felt Luka’s touch on her wrist, and remembered herself. This woman was worthy to be a champion, of course, but that wasn’t why she was here, and there was no one right now that needed saving. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The butterfly flitted away, apparently unbothered by the unnecessary summons. 

Marinette gathered awareness back to herself, and, because she couldn’t quite help it, she looked at Luka again. He radiated approval and pride and—she couldn’t deny it—love. It hardly felt possible to her that he could still love her so much, and yet so quietly. 

She shouldn’t be seeing this. She closed her eyes and whispered the words, and when she opened them again there was only her living room, and Luka’s gentle smile. Nooroo hovered in front of her, frowning thoughtfully, and Marinette brought her hands under him so that he could perch on them. Luka picked up the bowl of grapes Marinette had set out, and offered it to Nooroo.

Nooroo took a grape slowly in both paws, and nibbled it, his large eyes narrowed slightly. Marinette didn’t think he was glaring at them, though, his look seemed turned inward.  

“What do you think, Nooroo?” Luka asked quietly, setting the bowl down and sinking to sit cross-legged on the floor.

Marinette knelt to sit with him, with Nooroo still in her hands. He seemed to come back to himself. 

“I don’t know,” the kwami said, slowly, and Marinette felt a little spark of hope. That wasn’t a rejection. He was thinking about it, at least.

“I understand. How would you feel about meeting her in person?” 

Marinette and Nooroo both looked at Luka. 

“She owns a cafe across town,” Luka continued. “Marinette and I can go have a date there, and you can watch her for a while.” He winked at Marinette, grinning, and Marinette spluttered. Nooroo looked at her curiously, and Luka gave one of his little huffing laughs as he stood up.

“I’ll meet you there on Sunday, then,” Luka smiled, and stood up. “I’ll text you the address. Goodnight, Nooroo. Marinette.” 

“Good night, Luka,” Marinette said, her heart still beating hard. She twisted to watch him as he stepped past her to let himself out. 

“He is a good Guardian,” Nooroo murmured softly, once the door had clicked shut.

Marinette smiled, still looking at the door. “Because he cares.” 

“He cares about you.” 

Marinette looked at the little kwami in surprise, and Nooroo merely gazed up at her. 

“You know he does,” Nooroo pointed out. “You saw it.”

Marinette’s shoulders curled in a little in embarrassment. “I feel like that wasn’t something I should have seen.”

“He knew you would see it,” Nooroo said thoughtfully. “He told you to look. He is very brave. Not many people can hold their feelings like that so openly. Humans like to hide from feelings.”

“Your new holder—” Nooroo winced. “Potential holder,” Marinette amended. “She is like that.”

“Mm. So it seems, but…” Nooroo’s expression was turned inward again, and Marintte’s smile faded as she recognized his brooding mood.. “Excuse me, Guardian.” He lifted from her hands and zipped away too quickly for Marinette to even see where he went. He didn’t want to be followed, she thought.

Marinette sighed, and fell back to flop on the floor, letting her mind turn to more mundane matters.

So technically, she had a date with Luka. He was joking, of course, it was just a cover so they could meet up plausibly, but…she remembered those feelings she had seen when she was transformed.

She put both hands over her face and screamed quietly into them.

Paris had no shortage of bistros and cafes, and as Marinette walked into this one, she couldn’t help feeling that it fit the stereotype. Round tables outside with decorative umbrellas, and small tables with wire chairs inside, plus a corner done up as a sitting area with comfortable chairs and a couch. Nothing to suggest that the next hero of Paris worked here.

Marinette picked up her menu automatically as she was seated, but she wasn’t really looking at it. Instead, she looked around, taking in the atmosphere and trying to notice details, but she found herself a bit distracted. She hadn’t seen Luka since he’d proposed this “date,” though they had talked over text a few times. A few days to sit with what she’d seen in him hadn’t resolved her confusion, and neither had his texts, which seemed so…normal. Updates on places he had stopped by, old friends he had seen, a picture of a music shop that looked like it must have been around for decades - if not centuries. Marinette wasn’t sure what to think. 

“Are you doing all right?” 

Marinette started a little, and then looked up into the face of the woman standing next to her. She held a round tray clutched to her chest, and her smile was shy but sincere. She had beautiful dark hair tied up in an elaborate braided bun, and dark, soft eyes. She wore a name tag that said Eve. Marinette found herself smiling back. 

“I’m fine. I’m just waiting for my f—for my, um,” she had a hard time getting the word date out of her mouth. You’d think after so much lying I’d be better at it.

“You’re meeting someone special?” the woman asked, and Marinette nodded. That was the truth, at least, so it was easier to admit it. 

“I guess he’s running a little late,” she said, flipping her phone over to check the time. “I can order something, if—” 

“Oh, no, no,” Eve waved a hand frantically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to rush you. You just looked, so, er…” She smiled, hunching her shoulders a little. “Unsettled? I don’t mean to be rude. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“Oh,” Marinette blinked, and then smiled. “Thanks for checking on me, um, Eve.”

“It’s my job,” Eve said cheerfully, and gestured vaguely to the cafe. “My grandmother left me this place, and I always try to keep it as welcoming as it was when she was in charge.”  

“Oh, wow.” Marinette was genuinely impressed. “My parents own a bakery, and I know how much work it is to run your own business. I’m Marinette, by the way.” She held out her hand and Eve gave it a little shake, sliding into the seat across from Marinette. “Have you always wanted to run the cafe?” 

Eve winced. “Not really, to be honest. But this place has kept me going through some really hard things, so I’ve come to love it. I’m studying psychology after hours.” 

“It’s hard, working and studying at the same time,” Marinette sighed. She knew that all too well.

Eve hummed agreement. Marinette checked her phone again. It seemed unlike Luka to be late like this—but she’d certainly left him hanging often enough. She couldn’t blame him.

“Worried?” Eve asked gently.

“A little,” Marinette admitted. “I don’t think he’d stand me up, but I’m a little surprised he’s not here yet. I hope nothing happened.” 

“Is it your first date?” 

“Yes. I mean no. I mean—” Marinette slapped her hands onto her face. “The first date was a long time ago, and it…things didn’t go so well back then.”

“But you’re different people now,” Eve said, tapping the table in front of them lightly as if she were patting Marinette’s shoulder. “He must think there’s another chance for you if he’s willing to go out with you again.”

Marinettte made a noise that was meant to be positive, but it came out more as a whimper. 

“Don’t quit before you try,” Eve said firmly. “That’s my motto. Or mantra. Something like that.” She grinned, a little sheepishly. “It’s how I give myself the courage to do things that scare me. Don’t assume failure before you take the chance.”

Marinette smiled. “That’s a good philosophy.” 

Eve smiled back, then tapped the table lightly again before standing up. “Good luck, Marinette.”

“Thanks, Eve,” Marinette waved, and sat back a little. She glanced down at the purse in her lap, and saw Nooroo’s wide eyes peeking up at her. “She seems really nice,” Marinette whispered. Nooroo fidgeted and then disappeared into her purse again. Tikki gave her a flipper-flick that was the kwami’s best imitation of a thumbs up, and then slid down into the purse as well.

“Sorry I kept you waiting.”

The familiarity of the voice nor the gentle touch on her shoulder didn’t stop Marinette from jumping, and a little scream escaped her mouth. 

Luka sighed, and then smiled. “Sorry. I always seem to do that to you.” 

“Stop sneaking up on me!” Marinette snapped, more harshly than she meant to. Luka only cocked an eyebrow at her. 

“You’re facing the door and I walked up in plain sight.” Teasingly, he added, “Stop thinking so hard.” He tapped her forehead gently, then pulled out the chair Eve had vacated and sat down. He lowered his voice. “Did you meet her?” 

Over his head, Marinette saw Eve mime a little cheer for her. “I did,” she admitted, and couldn’t help smiling at Eve. 

“I figured you would, if I left you here for a bit,” Luka chuckled. “She’s got good intuition, that one.”

Marinette frowned at him. “You let me sit here on purpose?” 

“Yeah,” he admitted, with a little shrug. “She’ll mostly leave us alone while we’re together, but I thought she’d probably come talk to you if I hung back for a bit. Sorry if I made you nervous.” He put his hand out across the table, and Marinette slowly put hers in his, since they were supposed to be on a date. 

“I guess I can’t blame you for a little payback.”

“It’s not like that,” Luka said immediately. “Not at all.” He leaned forward a little. 

“I understand a lot better than I did before,” he said softly. “The secrets, and the burden that comes with them. And you were so young, and going through so much…I’m so sorry.”

This time Marinette’s frown was more from confusion than displeasure. “Sorry for what?” she asked.

Luka laughed softly. “I don’t even know, really. I’m just sorry. For everything you went through. For any time I made your life harder. I tried not to push, but I’m sorry my feelings were a burden to you back then.”

“You didn’t make my life harder, Luka. You had every right to be upset that your girlfriend kept running off. I appreciated so much that you believed in me - you knew I had to have a reason, even if you were a little off about what it was.” She squeezed his hand. “I know how conflicted you felt. I saw you struggle with Hawkmoth. If I hadn’t hurt you, he never would have been able to get to you like that.” Luka said nothing, and Marinette leaned forward a bit, tugging on his hand to make him look at her. “You were just a kid, too, Luka, and you did so much for me.. I don’t blame you for anything that happened back then.”

Luka brought his other hand up to cradle hers between both of his. “I don’t blame you, either. You were doing the best you could. I’m happy you gave me a chance. I don’t regret any of the time we spent together. I didn’t, even before I really understood.”

“Really?” Marinette whispered, and Luka nodded, eyes holding hers. Marinette sighed. “I wish I could be as zen about this kind of thing as you are.”

Luka squeezed. “I’ve always loved your passion. Your big feelings are part of who you are. I wouldn’t change that for the world.”

“I would,” Marinette groaned immediately. She held up her thumb and forefinger together. “Maybe just a little. Just enough that I wouldn’t be so insensitive to other people when I get caught up in my big feelings.”

Luka laughed. “That’s just part of growing up. We’re all self-centered little shits as teenagers. You’re not unique in that.” He held a hand up before she could argue. “No, me too. It just looked a little bit different for me. We’re all searching so hard for identity at that age, and mine was being the chill guy who never got upset and everybody could count on. It took me a while to realize that selflessness could also be selfishness when it’s for the wrong reasons. I hope I’m a little more balanced these days.” Quickly, he added, “What’s Nooroo think?” and Marinette knew he didn’t want to talk about that anymore.

“He’s still being pretty shy,” she said, peeking into her purse. “Hey,” she said softly, trying to look like she was still holding a conversation with Luka instead of talking to her bag. “Do you want to come out for a bit? You can spend some time with her as long as you stay hidden. I’ve got your miraculous so you’re still safe.”

Nooroo hesitated, looking at Tikki, but then he peeked out of the purse and, when he was sure no one was looking, floated out and under the table. The next time Eve passed them, Marinette saw a little blue flash disappear into her apron pocket.

“Well,” Luka said, sitting back in his chair. “I guess we have some time to kill while he gets to know her. Can I order you something?” 

“When are you leaving?” Marinette blurted, and Luka blinked at her. “Not that I want you to leave,” she clarified quickly. “It’s just, I know you probably have to leave, eventually, and I’m really liking seeing you again and I just—I just want to know when it’s going to end, so you know, I don’t get too caught up and forget that that’s going to happen, because—”

“What if I didn’t leave?” Luka interrupted, folding his arms on the table and leaning on them to look at her. 

“W-what?” was all Marinette could manage. 

“What if I plan to stay in Paris for a long time?” The way he was looking at her was doing things to Marinette’s stomach, and she wasn’t sure whether she liked it or not. She tried to pull herself together, to focus.

“What, um, what would that look like?” she asked, unconsciously leaning back a little. He was just so intense, all of a sudden. Her heartbeat was suddenly throbbing as if she were sprinting up stairs instead of sitting in a peaceful cafe.

“Well, if that thing we’ve been discussing happens,” he glanced around, that quick, instinctive glance that Marinette had also acquired, the one that came with secrets you couldn’t share and had to protect. “I’d need to be around to help train the new—person. At least, that was what I was thinking. And I’ve honestly been getting a little tired of the globetrotting. I’d like to have some stability, for a while, and Paris is still home. You could help me out if I needed to get anywhere in a hurry.”

She could, that was true. If the Guardians objected to Luka holding a miraculous himself, she could always accompany him as Pegabug. 

“I might have to run off for a month or two here and there, that way,” Luka admitted, and he’d dropped his gaze now to where he was tracing the tile of the tabletop with a finger. Marinette had a sudden flash of memory where Luka had taught her box breathing, breathing in time with tracing a square like that. Was he nervous?

“I don’t have to, though,” he continued. “You could easily train a new person - you trained all of us, after all.” He grinned. “So if it makes you uncomfortable to know I’m in town, or to have a Guardian involved directly in training the new holder—” 

“No,” Marinette gasped, and then put a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I mean, of course I wouldn’t be upset about having you around. You’d be an amazing teacher for a new—person. You’re…really thinking about staying?” For me? She clamped her lips on the words. That was ridiculous. Why was she even thinking that? How much teenage ego she must still have, to think he would still be mooning after her when they hadn’t talked in years…shit he was talking.

“--or maybe working some place like this,” he was saying as he glanced around the cafe. 

Eve caught his look and came over, clearly thinking he wanted to order. She chatted easily to Luka while beaming at Marinette, clearly cheering her on. Marinette was glad for the break to process, although she did manage to order something, asking weakly for whatever Eve recommended. Eve’s smile dimmed a little bit as she caught on to Marinette’s unease. 

“Let me know if you need anything else,” Eve said, a little too earnestly, and Marinette understood Eve was offering her an out if she needed it.

“You’re freaking out,” Luka said, leaning back in his chair as Eve walked away. She both hated the distance and was grateful for space to breathe.

“I’m—no, I just—uh—” Marinette bit her lip, twisting her purse strap in her fingers. “I don’t know.”

Luka nodded. “Paris is a big city. You don’t have to see me any more than you want to. Or at all, if you want. I’m not here to push into your life.” 

“Pff, of course not,” Marinette laughed, hoping it didn’t come off as hysterical as she felt. “Why should it be all about me?”

Luka hesitated, and pressed his lips together for a moment before answering. “It’s at least partly about you,” he said quietly. “I miss you. I meant it when I said I don’t regret any of our time together, but I do have some regrets about how things went down, and the way I let us drift apart afterwards.”

“That wasn’t all you,” Marinette protested weakly, and he waved it away. 

“It really doesn’t matter now. I just want to try again. See what our friendship is like now that we don’t have to hide so much from each other.”

“You make it sound so mutual,” Marinette muttered, twisting her fingers together. “It was all me and you know it.”

“Back then,” he agreed. “I have secrets of my own now, though. Like I said, I understand better now. I know how valuable it is to have someone you can be real with.” 

Marinette peeked up from under her lashes. Her stomach felt all weird and squirmy. She wasn’t sure if she could be friends with Luka again. Not…not just friends. Even best friends. She was already so drawn to him after only a few days. 

She wondered what he would say if she told him. Was he really just wanting a friend to confide in and share secrets with? Or could he want something more? She felt that he did, but she didn’t know if the past was coloring her perception. 

Color. Her mind flicked back to the night in her apartment, when she had seen his heart in a swell of colored light. He loved her, didn’t he? But was that enough, after everything? 

He was looking at her so earnestly, a slight crease between his brows, and she felt suddenly self-conscious. She’d always been an open book to him…and he’d always treated what he read there so delicately. 

She licked her lips unconsciously as she considered just…telling him how she felt. How bad would it be if he said no—or not yet? 

A light touch on her knee made her look down, and Nooroo was perched there, looking up at her with such a conflicted expression that she immediately moved to curl a hand around him protectively. 

“He wants to go,” she whispered to Luka, shepherding the little kwami into her purse gently. Nooroo dove deep, and Marinette thought she heard Tikki’s soft reassurance. She sighed, heart aching. 

“Then let’s go,” Luka said immediately, flagging Eve down. Marinette had to work to smile at her as Luka handed her a credit card, and didn’t even have the presence of mind to protest Luka paying for everything. 

Eve brought his card back and handed Marinette a box with a wink, nodding at the piece of cake on her plate that she’d barely touched. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered, setting a hand on Marinette’s shoulder as she walked by. 

Luka raised his eyebrows at Marinette, and she hurriedly focused on scraping her cake into the box, trying not to knock anything over in the process. 

Luka put his hand on the small of her back as they hustled out of the cafe, trying not to look like they were hustling. Once outside, they nipped into an alley, and Marinette peered into her purse.

“Nooroo?” she whispered. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” came the reply, but faintly, and he didn’t peep out at her. “I just…I need to think.”

“Of course,” Luka said softly. “Take your time. Let’s get you home.” He looked at Marinette, and she nodded.

It was too crowded to talk much on the subway. Luka stood close to her, not touching, but hovering as if he wanted to. “Are you okay?” he asked, as they both shifted for passengers to disembark, and she nodded. 

“Just worried about him,” she confessed, and then hesitated. Luka touched her hand, and she grabbed onto his fingers, squeezing tightly. Luka wiggled his fingers until he could wrap them around hers, and she took a deep breath. Not a good time. 

When they finally emerged from the metro in Marinette’s neighborhood, she was practically vibrating with anxiety, and Luka clearly sensed it, as he tugged her gently over into a small strip of grass and trees between the buildings. The trees were small and meticulously pruned, but Marinette felt better as she put her hand against the trunk of one, and breathed, her other hand still clinging tightly to Luka.

“You look a little overwhelmed,” he said, shifting to cradle her hand in both of his. 

Marinette laughed shakily. “Story of my life, right? When have I not been overwhelmed?”

Luka nodded, looking at the ground before meeting her eyes again. “What can I do?”

“I don’t know,” Marinette sighed, turning to put her back against the tree trunk. “Tell me I’m not an irredeemable screwup?” 

An incredulous laugh burst out of Luka for a moment, but he choked it back, though the effort twisted his smile. “You are absolutely not an irredeemable screw up,” he said, not quite as earnest as he wanted to be because he was still trying not to laugh.

Marinette rolled her eyes, and Luka dropped her hand, turning away from her to smother his laughter.

“Sorry,” he said finally, still smiling as he turned back to her. “Let me try again.” 

He took both her hands in his, and leaned his head down a little to look at her. He opened his mouth, and then closed it and swallowed, any remaining humor fading abruptly away. Marinette’s own smile wavered as he focused on her again.

“Marinette, I’ve seen a lot of places, and I’ve met a lot of incredible people. Good people, with good hearts and incredible spiritual strength.” He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “None of them compared to you,” he said finally. “You’re still the most extraordinary girl I ever met. You were on my mind with every potential holder I ever met or trained. You are not a screw up, no matter how inadequate you feel.”

Marinette smiled up at him. “They were so lucky to have you to teach them. I wish I could—” she paused, and bit her lip, feeling a stab of guilt for the disloyalty to Master Fu. He had done his best, she supposed, but… “I wish I could have had someone like you to teach me.”

Luka nodded, tugging her hands lightly, and she let him pull her into an embrace. She sighed, settling against him, enjoying the way he engulfed her. It made her feel warm and safe. She really did envy those holders that had had Luka’s patience and gentle nature to guide them through their first mistakes as holders. She supposed she was lucky he had been there to help her through her first mistakes in love.

They definitely weren’t her last. 

Was it too late?

What if it wasn’t?

Luka’s hand smoothed down her back, and she leaned into him a little more. He smelled nice, and she realized he wore cologne.. She half-remembered him smelling of sunscreen and cheap detergent once upon a time, but now he smelled like green tea and spice. She wondered if it was something he found traveling. 

Abruptly she realized she’d been clinging to him for an awkwardly long time for a friendly hug, and she nearly jerked back. Luka didn’t try to stop her, but caught her hands again to steady her when the momentum threw her off balance. 

“Sorry,” she said quickly, flustered. “You’re all grown up and I’m still just as clumsy and ridiculous and—insecure as ever. Sorry.” 

Luka shook his head. “You’re perfect just the way you are, Marinette.” His thumbs slid over the backs of her hands, and her insides suddenly felt like jelly. “I—” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. 

Marinette tilted her head, watching him. She wasn’t sure what that expression meant. “What?” she asked softly.

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to make it complicated for us to work together. It’s just…I’ve never minded your clumsiness, and I love the way you burst out with the way you feel. Too many people stuff their feelings down because they feel too vulnerable to let them out, but yours are always brave and bold.” He smiled. “Even when you make a mistake and hurt someone, you always do whatever you have to do to make it right.  So don’t ever feel like you have to apologize for being yourself.”

You can be yourself with me. Just yourself.

 “After all these years, you don’t even know me anymore,” she teased, trying to lighten a mood that suddenly felt too intense, but Luka’s eyes stayed focused on her, and her heart was beating so hard she felt like she could barely breathe.

“I think there’s a lot I don’t know about you,” he corrected with a chuckle. “But I’m pretty sure I still know you. I don’t think you can change that much.”

“You think I haven’t changed,” Marinette pouted, and something crossed his face that made her blush. 

“I definitely didn’t say that,” he told her, tugging her hands down lightly so she took a step towards him. For a wild moment she thought he was going to kiss her, and she had just enough time to wish he would before he dropped her hands and took a step around her. “Can I walk you home?”

“Uh, sure,” Marinette said, taking a quick step to catch up with him. “Where are you staying, anyway?” 

Luka grinned. “The Grand Palais.” 

Marinette gave him a look. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. I have Jagged’s credit card. I usually try not to use it, but…” he shrugged. “I figure Jagged doesn’t mind me using it to wine and dine his favorite designer. Probably would be offended if I didn’t.” He offered Marinette his arm, and she laughed as she slid her hand through his elbow.

“I saw his comeback tour,” she admitted.  

“He can only stay out of the spotlight for so long,” Luka sighed, rolling his eyes. “It’s his way of helping, though. He’s not really cut out for the Guardian life, but his money has helped us out of some really tight places, and he has a lot of connections. Plus people are used to him asking for weird shit, so that’s a useful cover.” 

“You took it really well, when you found out about him.” 

Luka winced and put a hand over his face for a moment, before letting it slide down and wipe away whatever he was thinking. 

“I don’t like thinking about how I found out,” he admitted. “That whole…mess. Don’t apologize,” he warned, lifting a finger. “I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about me.” He sighed. “I thought I was past all of that. It wasn’t pleasant to find out how wrong I was. It was…humbling.” Luka shook his head. “It was hard to be mad at him, after that. I felt like I didn’t have any right to criticize after, y’know, tossing him halfway across Paris.” He groaned, putting his face in his hand again. “I can’t stand thinking about all that teenage angst.”

Marinette giggled. “I so know what you mean.”

Luka grinned. “I know you do. Marino.”

“Aaarrrgggghhh you jerk I can’t believe you brought that up,” Marinette moaned, trying to pull away, but Luka held onto her and she had to smile when he laughed so whole-heartedly. 

I want him to stay, she thought suddenly. I really, really want him to stay. 

Her hand fluttered to her chest, fingertips brushing her pounding heart, before she forced herself to put her hand back down again at her side. She couldn’t quite make it relax and her fingers curled together. 

He was waiting for her, like he always did. She knew it now with miraculous clarity. He wanted to stay, and he wanted her to want him to stay, and he was waiting for her to say he could. 

It didn’t have to be a big thing, right? She could say it, somehow, and he would know what she meant even if she didn’t say it say it, and then they would have time, and they could figure out things as they went. 

She felt a light touch on her hip, and looked down to see Nooroo peeping up out of her bag, his little flipper nudging her. She stroked his forehead with one finger, a gesture he seemed to like. He gave her a tiny little nod, and slipped back into her purse.

What was that, she wondered. Was he saying—-was he okay with this arrangement? He wanted to try the new holder? Or…was he sensing her hesitation, and encouraging her. 

Freaking empaths, they were so confusing. Just because they could practically read minds—

“I think it went well,” Luka murmured, and Marinette jumped slightly. “He didn’t reject the whole idea.” 

“Mm,” Marinette agreed, not knowing what to say. 

“He can take his time,” Luka went on. “There’s a vintage record shop I’ve been looking at. The owner’s looking to sell, and it would make a pretty good cover while I’m here.” 

Here was her opening, and Marinette couldn’t make a sound. She didn’t say anything, and she felt Luka’s silent sigh, and wanted to bang her head against a wall.

Suddenly they were standing in front of Marinette’s apartment building, and Luka began to pull away.

Say something. DO something.

She tightened her hand on his arm and tugged a little, and Luka reversed his momentum, walking through the door with her. She still clung to him in the elevator, still trying to make her brain or her voice or something work, before he decided she didn’t want him. 

She did want him. She did . Why couldn’t she just say it.

Luka stopped them in front of her apartment door, and his arm slid out of her grasp as he faced her.

He was going to say goodbye, and he was going to leave , and—

Say something say something DO SOMETHING

Marinette hardly knew what she was doing as she stepped forward and took his face in her hands, raising up on her toes as high as she could, and kissed him—or tried to. She still wasn’t quite tall enough, so her kiss hit his chin more than his lips, but only for a moment, as he eagerly bent down to meet her, a desperate little noise coming from his throat as he wrapped his arms around her and their lips met more fully. 

It was everything she had ever imagined, soft and intense and electric all at once. Luka’s hands splayed on her back, pulling her closer, and she gasped a little. She felt him freeze and slid her hands behind his neck to pull him back in. 

When her eyes opened again she felt rather proud of the dazed way he looked at her, the glow in his tanned cheeks, and the slightly slack-jawed expression. She couldn’t help a giggle. His eyes focused back on her, and she shivered. She thought he was going to say something, but he leaned in and kissed her again. Marinette freed one hand, flailing for the handle of her door. He followed her willingly, mouth still hot on hers, as she got it open and pulled him inside. Luka kicked the door shut behind them and leaned back against it, pulling Marinette into him. She pressed against him shamelessly, letting her purse slide to the floor. If there was a little squeak as it hit the floor and faint giggles around the apartment, Luka and Marinette were far too busy to notice. 

“Wow,” he murmured, and cleared his throat, letting his head tip back as Marinette felt his chest up shamelessly. “I admit I was maybe hoping for that to happen, but I thought it would take a lot longer.” 

Marinette giggled. “We’re not kids anymore,” she reminded him.

“Oh I know.” Luka’s hands drifted a little lower on her back. “I’m definitely not complaining.”

“You don’t think it’s maybe a little fast?” she asked, mostly teasing but genuinely curious. The doubt she had stomped on wanted to creep up again, but Luka’s words crushed it to dust. 

“Not with you,” he said, so earnestly that her breath caught and her eyes stung. “I’m all in for wherever you want to go from here. If we end up having a passionate affair for a few months before we decide we’re better as friends—” Marinette felt a rush of heat all down her body at the words. “—I’m going to enjoy every second of it. If it goes the way I’d like it to and we end up with something longer term, something…permanent, then I don’t want to miss a second when I could have been with you.” He leaned down and kissed her again, soft and slow. 

It took her a moment to open her eyes when he pulled away. “Don’t the Guardians have rules about this kind of thing?” Marinette asked, already half-knowing the answer.

Luka didn’t disappoint her. He rolled his eyes. “Fuck the Guardians.”

Marinette laughed. “Maybe just the one,” she purred, tapping Luka on the nose, and taking great pleasure in watching him flush. The deep rose tint to his tan was very attractive, she decided, and rose up on her toes to kiss him again.

Fiction Master Post 

[writing-rat]

Gym Crush

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Warning: Just fluff!

Summary: Sam is a gym trainer when you join her classes. Soon enough you become friends and go to Sam's house...

WC: 1180

It was your first day of going to the gym, and you were nervous. You hadn’t gone to a gym in New York before, scared of the people who would be going, but you knew you needed to get back to working out soon. So that is when you decided to look at gym classes, where you found one you liked. It was functional strength, and it was a small class with a name you recognised. Sam Carpenter. One of the Ghostface victims. You knew her from the news when you first moved in when the incidents were happening. You knew she was innocent however, the news said so with proof as well as Gale Weathers, known for the books that spurred the people that wore the Ghostface costume on. Out of intrigue (and because of the class size), you thought you would join. You were lucky you did that due to it being the last spot available and you were excited. The class size was 6 people so you were grateful for that. The first classes you would be going to would be tomorrow, so you decided to get your workout clothes sorted. Grabbing an old faded hoodie and a plain shirt, you put them in a pile then grabbed your favourite sweatpants. You were going to be prepared, and glad you could work from home once a week.

-

It was officially the next day, and it was an hour before your class which was at 4 pm. You made sure you had your water bottle ready as well as having the correct clothes on. You checked the train times before deciding it would be better to walk to the gym. It would be good for exercise too anyway. As you were walking, you were looking around the city since you were still new there, having moved there months ago. 

Eventually walking into the gym, you showed your booking to the receptionist. “Just go down this hallway where there are the classroom gyms and it is the second right. The room is marked with Sam’s name too,” the receptionist said with a smile. “She is a good trainer. She wants to warn people who join however to not mention Ghostface or the allegations whatsoever. She will kick you out quickly if not,” the receptionist spoke, looking at her. You nodded, understanding. “Thank you,” you spoke before walking over to the room and entering, being the first one there. You were 30 minutes early after all. Sam looked up after putting some weights down and smiled.

“Hey! Y/N right?” she asked. 

“Yeah! That’s me,” you confirmed, looking around. “You can put your drink in one of the cubbies. I am Sam Carpenter, your new trainer. I will be helping you to achieve your goals and also make you stronger. You worked out before?” Sam asked, seemingly done with the set-up. “Yeah, but not for a few months. I just recently moved to NYC,” you confirmed, smiling at her gently. Sam was nodding. “Good, good. Well, I can’t wait to see how you improve,” Sam spoke. You nodded, eager to please her. Little did you know what would happen in the future…

-

It was 8 months after you first started lessons, and you were growing a crush on the taller girl. You looked up to her, metaphorically and literally. Hell, you even befriended Sam, having been in her classes the longest and communicating with her if you would be late or would not be able to make it to the lesson. Hell, Sam even started driving you to the sessions and sometimes home. You were thankful for that as you could save money than then go on the train every day. You even talked to Sam more personally, which led to a friendship becoming her best friend. She was still a strict coach with you though during lessons. 

You were currently at the Carpenter-Weather’s house, Gale cooking dinner with Tara while you were leaning against Sam, curled up after a long session and watching a movie with her. You were both watching The Addam’s Family Values, wanting a relaxing film. You felt comfortable in the strong woman’s embrace, leaning more and more into her neck. You weren’t even aware you were doing that as you were more distracted by the film. Sam meanwhile was rubbing your sides as she kissed your forehead, making you smile. You were about to speak when Tara entered the room. “Dinner’s ready!” she spoke, before going back to the kitchen. Sam groaned, stretching before she stood up, holding her hand out for you to take. You smiled, taking it as you got up, shocked that Sam kept holding it after. Your cheeks did heat up a little bit at that action but you didn’t say anything. Tara and Gale just looked at each other with a smirk for some reason that you didn’t know but you just decided to not care about it.

“Thank you, ma’am, Tara,” you spoke, nodding politely. Gale just smiled. 

“Oh please, call me Gale. Ma’am makes me feel old,” Gale just chuckled in response. Nodding in shock, you smiled as you sat down next to Sam. On the plate there were burritos. You were content with that as you started to eat while thanking both Tara and Gale for cooking. 

“If you want to stay over, you can!” Tara happily responded. Sam just widened her eyes and then glared at Tara, but you didn’t know why again. You decided to shrug it off again. “Sure, but where would I stay?” you asked, confused as you tilted your head confused. 

“Sam’s bed?” Tara suggested. Sam nodded. 

“I wouldn’t mind,” she admitted. Gale just smiled, seeing how Tara was being a wing-woman for Sam. 

-

That night, you had decided to stay over. That made you both go to sleep at 1 am, both of you going to her bedroom silently due to the other occupants sleeping. Sam just smiled at you before she kissed your cheek, making you even more flustered as you realised she was being more touchy. She was cuddling you, holding your hands and kissing you. “Are you flirting?” you asked quietly, shaking from nerves admittedly. Sam blinked before she thought then sighed and nodded. “Yes, I am. Is that… ok?” she asked. You just grinned and kissed her, before nodding. “Now let’s cuddle and sleep, I am tired,” you admitted. Sam just grinned and smiled before she went to the bed and was big spooning you. You just cuddled into her neck, glad your feelings were returned. 

The next morning, you woke up early, confused as to why before you heard the shutter of a camera. You looked up sleepily, then saw Tara in the room holding a Polaroid and putting it on the side. “Morning, Gale is happy for you. Now you can go back to sleep,” Tara spoke quietly before leaving. You smiled, shaking your head before quickly falling back to sleep. You didn’t miss the faint kiss of your forehead though. You sighed in happiness.

[bird-in-the-space]

Bayverse Version (Part 4)

After two weeks of physical therapy, you are finally able to move normally in your robotic body. After leaving the room you had been confined in, you meet the Autobots and get a new vehicle mode. But something weird happens when you start seeing Energon glow through things.

Warnings: some therapy, mentions of loneliness, static mind, restlessness, participating in research, reader being slightly socially shy, reader not knowing much about transforming, slight panic moment, getting stuck in middle of transformation, and headaches.

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

The days that followed were… tiring if you were being honest. 

With Ratchet’s help and guidance, you underwent physical therapy to learn how to stand and walk in your robotic body. Moving your metallic limbs often left you tired, but not wanting to sit most of the days, you pushed yourself through it. Moving became easier and your joints started shaking less. The exercises helped you build strength, so your limbs no longer felt as heavy as boulders. Standing became less disorienting, and you gradually adjusted to being taller than humans.

On the side, you went through the research tests the NEST higher-ups wanted you to go through. Luckily, they weren’t anything insane or something that would have gone beyond your comfort zone. Just psyche evaluation, tests, and light scanning of your body. It was tiring as they repeated most of the questions. It was perhaps the least worse than what other experiments they would have likely wanted to conduct on you, so you forced yourself to endure them.

You don’t exactly trust your government. 

Since Emily was a civilian she had to return to society. The NEST higher-ups tried to prohibit your contact with her, but you threatened to be uncooperative and cause problems if you couldn't have at least one contact with someone from your previous life. Thanks to Lennox, your dad, and even Optimus, you got to talk to her through scheduled calls, where you let her know about things that happened and complained a bit. 

Since your human self was technically dead, it was decided that you were deceased to the world. So, your poor mother was told that you had perished in an attack. You did not think it was fair for her since you were technically still alive. But apparently, secrecy was important. 

However, you did not know how else to describe your stay in the Autobot’s and NEST base. Moving in your robotic body became easier, but you began suffering from restless nights and your mind was often filled with static. 

You felt out of place and constantly wondered what your future would hold for you now. It was also pretty lonely, though, you got to talk to your dad often. He was at least there to help you through it, but even he was busy. 

You did grow to like Ratchet a bit. He was a bit strict when it came to health, but he was not pushy and made sure you would be in good health after each exercise. He taught you the basics about cybertronian bodies, and other things when you became curious enough to know more. 

After two weeks of physical therapy, you were finally able to stand and walk without an issue. Ratchet was impressed because he suspected your rehabilitation would have taken longer. But now you were ready to leave the room if you wanted. You were healthy and no longer suffered from other side effects like the cold and headaches, but there was the issue regarding your alt form. So, you took the opportunity to leave the room to get a new vehicle mode and mentally prepared yourself to meet the rest of the Autobots. 

"I requested the NEST to obtain some possible vehicle modes suited for your frame type. As a grounder, you can scan all kinds of ground vehicles. But based on your frame type, I believe vehicles built for speed are best suited for you," Ratchet explained while you followed him through the corridor. 

His voice paced out from your ears as you looked around the corridor and the people you passed. They spared you glances before continuing with whatever tasks they had. You felt a bit nervous, to be honest. You were about to meet more robots and probably do something no human can. 

"However, you are free to choose which mode you like," Ratchet finished as you arrived at the main hangar. You saw some familiar bots and new ones. 

“Oh! Look who’s here!” a familiar voice announced. 

You turned and saw the familiar twins.  

“Finally walking without shaking like maracca, huh, newbie?” Skids asked. 

You frowned at them. You still felt a bit salty about the last time you met, so you could have gone another week without seeing them. 

“So, what’s the occasion?” Mudflap asked. 

“To scan a new vehicle mode. The vehicle she was reborn in was damaged thus I requested some vehicle options for her scanning,” Ratchet answered. 

“Oh, okay. I’m sure they have good options. Or is there something you personally want, newbie?” Mudflap curiously asked. 

“I… “ you faltered, unsure how to answer. You then shrugged your shoulders. “Whatever you recommend. I don’t know much about cars,” you said. 

Que chipped in. “Oh, I see you are finally walking. Excellent news. Now we can finally introduce you to the rest of the Autobots, “ he said. 

“You already know me, Ratchet, and our leader, Optimus,” he said, motioning himself and Optimus. 

He then turned toward a tall black-colored bot with big guns on his arms. His face kinda reminded you of a bear. “This is our weapon specialist, Ironhide,” Que introduced. 

“Heard, you nearly snuffed that Decepticon punk before we got there. Pretty boldsy of you,” the big bot, Ironhide, said. 

“Uhm… thanks?” you replied, slightly intimidated by him. 

“And I see you already met the twins, Skids and Mudflap,” Que motioned toward the twins. 

Que then turned toward a silver robot with blades for arms and wheels for legs. “This is Sideswipe, and the bot next to him is Mirage,” Quie motioned toward the red bot with sharp blades attached to his arms.

“These are the Arcee sisters,” Que motioned toward three small similar-looking robots in different colors. If you had to guess their alt-form, it was probably a motorcycle. 

“We also have Bumblebee, but he’s currently on the field to protect one of our human allies. He’s not hard to recognize as he’s yellow and speaks through the radio,” Que explained. 

“There are also a lot more of us around the globe, but I’m sure you meet them in good time,” Que said then turned toward the bots. 

“And everyone, this is (Name), Sergeant (Lastname)’s offspring. “ Que introduced you. 

You felt a bit awkward when they looked at you. “Uhm… hi,” you gave a small wave, your voice slightly quiet.

They gave you small nods as greetings though they looked at you curiously, probably because you used to be a human and now were a transformer like them. 

“And due to (Name)’s unique condition and sudden transit to a cybertronian. I encourage everyone to be welcoming and be assistance in case she needs help adapting to the life of a transformer,”  Optimus added. 

“Sure,” Ironhide uttered, shrugging his shoulders. 

“We got this, boss bot,” Skids chipped in. 

“Anything you need to know about wheels? I’m your guy,” Sideswipe said, moving around on his wheel legs. 

“Maybe once she actually gets to use her wheels. Come on, let’s get your new vehicle mode scanned,” Ratchet said and you followed him before you could even say anything. 

You followed Ratchet to another part of the base. You walked into a room where you saw three cars sitting in front of you. One looked similar to Emily’s car, and the others looked like sports cars. You did not know much about the cars but they looked fast and were pretty to look at.

“Now. Choose a vehicle of your liking and activate your scanning feature. It will launch the upgrading sequence, which will fix the outer damage to your frame and allow you to transform," Ratchet explained. 

You looked at the cars, already picking what you liked. However, there was one problem that made you hesitate. 

"How do I... scan?" you asked. 

"Look at the vehicle you like with your eyes and activate the scanning sequence," Ratchet answered. 

"Like what? Do I just look at them?" you asked, looking at one of the cars you liked. "And think of scanning it?" you added. 

"Somewhere like it... but it is a function that needs manual activation," Ratchet replied, pretty much explaining nothing. 

"Well.... I'm looking at it and thinking it but nothing happens," you said, still looking at the car. 

"Just blink your optics Newbie! It's not that hard!" Skids’s voice echoed from the corridor. 

"Well, I'm trying! But nothing's happening---!" At that moment your eyes suddenly burst a beam of light, scanning the car. Your eyes suddenly saw the structure of the car and everything in it. 

You yelped when everything in your body changed places and before you even knew it, you became the car you scanned. 

"Excellent!" Ratchet smiled. "I was worried there might have been issues with your transformation," he said. 

"How are you feeling?" he asked. 

"I can't see!" you said, moving your wheels, mirrors, car doors, and lights. You were honestly freaked out. It was like you were in a new body again. 

"Calm down. There's no reason to worry. Just change back and we can refine your transformation ability later," Ratchet said. 

"How?! I don’t see a button for that!" you said, blaring your car horn. 

“It’s not a button. It’s a natural ability of a transformer. Test your functions and you will get it eventually, “ Ratchet explained. 

You tried and began transforming. 

“Good. Keep it going,” Ratchet said. 

“Hey, Ratchet!” Lennox suddenly walked in. “What’s (Name)’s progress?” he asked as he walked in with your dad. 

“Currently in transforming. But she’s showing great progress. I nearly had doubts she would be able to transform, but it seems like I was wrong,” Ratchet answered. 

“Are you sure? Because she looks like she’s stuck,” your dad said, looking past Ratchet with his arms crossed. 

 "Uhm..." you waved helplessly, your body twisted around and half-done in the transformation. "Help!" 

Ratchet shook his head. "This might take a while," he said. 

After Ratchet helped you get through the last process of turning back into a robot because you got stuck, you tried to adjust into your normal robot form now that you had a new color scheme, and the damage was gone. 

You shivered after turning back. That was perhaps one of your worst experiences yet. You are pretty certain that your head was next to your behind, and your hands replaced their places with your legs. 

“That was awful,” you remarked, stretching your limbs and looking at your newly upgraded body.

"You learn eventually. Transformation is a transformer's natural ability. It will help you survive on many occasions," Ratchet said. 

"If I even learn to do it," you uttered. 

Your dad then walked up to you. “How did it feel?” he asked. 

“Like I just changed my entire body structure into a car,” you replied, rather unpleased with your experience. 

He chuckled. “Coulnd’t have been too bad. Good news, if I understood this correctly, you can be any car you want. Just… don’t go speeding around if you hit the road,” he said. 

“Wasn’t planning on it. It would be pretty difficult to explain to the cops why there is a speeding car without a driver,” you replied, which made him chuckle. 

You then winced when you got that weird brain buzz again. You glanced toward the entrance where you saw some bots enter. You then squinted your eyes when you began seeing something shimmering in them. 

It looked like some odd glimmering blue particles.

You then looked down and saw one of those Energon canisters shimmer with blue particles as well — more strongly than with the bots. 

It made you hella confused. 

What the hell? 

"Ratchet. Those weird brain buzzes are back and now I think something is wrong with my eyes,” you said. 

“What do you mean?” Ratchet asked. 

“I don’t know how to explain it but I see these weird glowing particles near the Energon,” you described. 

“Hmm. Strange. How about we check on that later? I need to make sure your upgrade removed the damage and left no lingering effects,” he said. 

“Okay,” you said, glancing at the Energon canisters. The shimmering vanished when you got far enough and couldn’t see them anymore. 

You were left incredibly confused. 

What the hell was that? 

[dogshitdotnet]

personal health musings. wondering what steps I should take with all this information in mind.

like literally for as long as i can remember in my life, i have had some kind of inflammation issue... i had spinal meningitis shortly after being born and survived it, and the doctors apparently worried I wouldnt have a functional immune system, but that didn't seem to be the case. I had massive growth spurts and hormone activation (I started having acne at age 6) at very young ages and tended to be bigger + taller than my peers up until high school, I recall many a night tossing and turning in bed crying from growing pains, to which my parents would usually treat with ibuprofen. When I reached my early teens, stress caused by bullying, SA, coming out as gay and trans, and unaddressed autism + ADHD triggered chronic tension migraines (I spent a few weeks with a team working on trying to figure out the cause of my migraines, including a lumbar puncture to search for a spinal fluid leak, to no avail) OCD, and clinical depression that have followed me to present day, but I was also dealing with a anxiety/panic disorder that I've thankfully been able to overcome.

Starting hrt (T) actually helped a lot with my muscle pain! I attributed that to being told that testosterone can help retain muscle mass, but I'm not sure. T unfortunately has been causing some issues with my urinary health, and I'm not super sure how to address that yet; apparently I used to get kidney infections as a kid a lot? I used to be sick in one way or another back then, I had pneumonia for months in 5th grade. I remember a lot of ear infections, too. I spent a lot of time in and out of children's hospital.

I have literally never been able to figure out why my body just tends to hurt so often, most often evenly spread through my muscles. Even with regular exercise and food/fluid intake this still happens. Just an ambient and what feels like consistent inflammation. I have had countless blood, cat and MRI scans, and doctors have never found anything. At this point, nearing 30, I'm like losing my mind trying to think of things to suggest to healthcare workers; to try and pinpoint perhaps a specific lack of or overproduction of a certain chemical? hormone imbalances? I've been told that psychosomatic issues from me being autistic could be a root cause, and that I should just use therapy to remedy that, but I've had TONS of therapy and I'm still stuck. Not to mention the lifelong sleep issues. If I don't get enough sleep, my body flares up so fucking badly I wince thinking about it.

I've been on a couple of mood meds (venlafaxine and gabapentin) for like, over a decade. I take methocarbomol for muscle pain, which is a bandaid on a chronic issue. I still feel like I have to resort to OTCs like every other day, I know I shouldn't but I don't know what else to do. I take 5mg melatonin for sleep at night, some fish oil bc my cholesterol is a little high. Finasteride to prevent any hair loss that may come with testosterone injections weekly. It's a lot of information to stew over trying to figure out how to move forward.

[rosalesbeausderholle]

Weight talk sorry!

.

.

.

I understand all of the criticisms of the body positive/fat positive/diet critical whatever you want to call it movement, but people who aren't fat and who have never spent their whole lives in an endless cycle of diet then gaining weight then diet weight then diet then gaining weight then diet etc will NEVER understand the utter pain and dehumanisation that you feel when going to the doctor for a completely unrelated issues then being given a 40 minute lecture about what you have to do and how you have to eat to lose weight and the whole time you're never allowed to get a word out no "I already do that" or "yes I know I have to exercise more but my schedule won't allow me to" or "no actually the reason I gained weight initially was because of yo yo dieting".

Mind you it's the first time this doctor has seen you in your whole ass life and she knows nothing about you and will not allow you to say a word or speak anything until she has created a narrative of you in her head that makes sense to her and then she will ask you to do the same diet which you have already failed at a thousand times (no most people cannot spend the rest of their fucking lives never eating anything fried again, that's not how it works, yes i know a diet is ~your diet forever~ why the fuck do you think i fail at them? Not even skinny people eat like that)

And oh she will feel so proud of herself. Meanwhile, there will be no talk of the actual health issue that you came to see the doctor for (she will say it's not in your file, you will ask her to look again and oh! Turns out it WAS in the file!) because you're not a fucking person to her, you're just FAT.

And yes, I know being fat is not healthy and yes I know I have to eat better and do more exercise, I'm trying everyday to do that, I don't want to live like this, I want to be fucking skinny for fuck's sake!! But it's really fucking hard to the point of impossible not to gain the weight lost back at some point??? And I cannot spend the rest of my life torturing myself with salads and boiled foods because that will make me go insane and then binge because i need it to be over, like it has happened EVERY. FUCKING. TIME!!!!!

I'm just... I'm so tired. I'm so damn tired, the first diet I did I Weighted 52 kg, I was 12, I was in the middle of puberty and now I'm convinced that if I hadn't started dieting my weight would just have balanced out as I grew a few final inches (because that has happened to every single woman in my family, you have a chubby puberty phase and then grow taller and suddenly you're skinny, but not me, because I started this horrid vicious cycle). Now, I weigh double that, and I don't know what to do, I don't know what the fuck to do. I've tried everything. I can't keep up on a lifelong diet, I know I have to eat better but I have no idea how. I can give up some fatty foods but I can't just, never order take out again, never go out to eat again, worry about the number of calories of every single bite that goes into my body, I cannot do that!!! I'm not built for that psychologically!!! It'll just lead me to crash out and binge again... I need help, I'm so tired...

[greekmocha]

HEIGHT ORDER

General height order from tallest to shortest among the big / original six sibling gods in Greek mythology (+ additional ones at bottom).

1. Poseidon: (Ocean is so many meters tall- and different zones of the ocean, so I figure there would be more growing room, thus— Tallest brother. Also wasn’t in the stomach as long as Hestia and Hades in my hc anyway. Also additional note: there’s the Hadal Zone at the bottom of the ocean, for a fun idea, what if that was where Hades and Poseidon met sometimes to hang out? :)

2. Demeter: (Once again, the distance between the earth to atmosphere is pretty damn big, and I know while she deals in the harvest mostly- I’m also saying she probably deals in trees, and one of the biggest is around 116M in height. So I figure she’d only be second to Poseidon.)

3. Zeus: (Sky is pretty large, obviously, so I figure his height could alter, going from small -> big -> large. So can switch around. And his growth was never stunted or hindered due to having never been swallowed).

4. Hera: (Same as Zeus’s honestly, also because due to my general hc for birth order (Hera as second to youngest) she wasn’t in the stomach as long as the others, so her growth wasn’t as stunted + She was also fostered during the Titanomachy with Oceanus in the ocean, so her thing is a bit similar to Poseidons—

5. Hades: (I know some would probably see him as one of the tallest- considering the earths inner core is absolutely large. And technically he is.) His true form is the biggest in my mind, but like the forms they go around in? I like to say his is one of the shorter ones. He’s used to being small in the stomach, it’s natural. I also thought of dwarves somewhat, like live below the earth, height smaller to fit in caves and what not.

6. Hestia: (Similar to Hades’s reasoning, was in their the longest- and was used to being small to fit in places when trapped. Also due to the idea that a flame is smaller without oxygen. So this can also alter like Hades’, her true form would probably be one of the biggest too depending on where she is? In Olympus, larger then life- filled with so much, and not constrained. Though also somewhat angsty idea is: could be a good reason for an au on why she doesn’t visit the Underworld too much, she’s limited.

ADDITIONAL MENTION:

3.5 Persephone: She’s the child of one of the two tallest gods of them all— and most spacious places on Gaia, the earth and sky. She had plenty of room to grow, and considering her mother is the god of harvest and agriculture (was likely always well fed, and given proper nutrients) so peek condition. Id like to imagine that she’s a head or so taller then her husband in the more mortal forms. Also additional hc: she has muscles from working on farms. That’s my take. G’day.

3.5 Ares: Generally same reasons as Persephone, two of the tallest gods- and sure they don’t have genetics, but this is headcanons alright? Anything goes. Gets plenty of exercise and activity (combat, training, war, etcetera). So those two are probably around the same height. I also like to see him as the eldest son in one version of the Heph myth (With Hephaetsus being born after Athena) while where Heph is thrown off the mountain as an adult, he’s either the second or first son of Zeus and Hera.

0.5 Aphrodite: She did come from the sea (place of all life and rather large), and cut off man bits of Ouranos- So she’s the aunt of the big six technically. I figured it’d be good that she was taller than all of them.

[mxssful]

control

Day 1 of Viago Week: control

Viago/Rook (but can be read as Viago&Rook I guess?) | 919 words | Rated T | Mostly vibes

@viagoweek

“Again,” Viago says, for the twelfth time in over an hour. Rosa begins the sequence once more— a set of attacks against an invisible opponent, feet light but certain, rapier glinting in the sunlight with each of her movements. The metal sings, slashing open the air, and Rosa moves, quick as ever; graceful, as only wild things know how to be. 

In another life, she might have been a dancer, something to go with those bards she is always so fond of.

(In another life, she might have been meant for something else. Sometimes, when the light hits her eyes just right, Viago could swear Rosa’s pupils are like a cat’s, could swear her shadow grows taller, could swear she has sharp teeth. Sometimes, when she looks at him with all the strength of sentiment, with grateful affection, he thinks she might have been more at home kneeling at an altar than sitting at his feet. Sometimes, when she says yes, Fifth Talon, and does what he asks of her, when she brings dead things home and smiles through the blood on her muzzle, when she sleeps against his door like a faithful hound—

Sometimes, Viago thinks he got away with something, stealing away this rare creature for himself. If she might have been meant for something else— too bad. Viago de Riva is a selfish man.)

“Again,” he says, watching her carefully. 

Rosa begins the sequence once more—

Perfection is not what they strive for; perfection implies an end, a moment where things cannot be improved any further. If Rosa has any kind of limits, they haven’t found them yet— or perhaps it is that time and time again she pushes through them, though not without sweat nor blood. 

Obedience would be foolish to pretend— Rosa will never be truly quite domesticated, despite his most insistent early attempts. There used to be a delay, between his order and her action, as if she needed to verify it was a good order before following— and ultimately, she always follows them. 

If there is no delay now…

Perhaps she learned how to think faster.

“Again,” he says, hands behind his back, posture straight. Stern as ever.

Rosa begins the sequence once more—

Viago isn’t sure what he means to show off, exactly, making her practice like this in the courtyard. Is it her skill, in order to instill some sense of competition among the fledglings, something to aspire to? Is it his skill instead, in the face of those who called her too unmanageable, too aggressive, that feral thing he brought home?

(‘Viago’s rabid pet.’)

Not for the first time, he thinks anyone who was not able to see her potential was an idiot.

(At the same time, he thinks, as well, that no one else could have forged and sharpened her into the fine blade she is today.)

“Again.”

Rosa begins the sequence—

She prefers to fight with a dagger— only one, in order to leave her other hand free for casting fire and lightning. She prefers to fight as close as possible, darting in and out of reach, closing the space to slip beneath armor, sweet as a caress and as lethal as anything else he could create. 

She prefers to kill from up close.

Her chest rises and falls rapidly with the weight of the exercise; this endless repetition that she does not complain about— not out here, not in public, because she always walks half a step behind him, because they pretend that behind closed doors he does not cave in to her demands to play with her hair, because that soothes her, and ‘it does not matter why I need to be soothed, you know very well I am always three minor inconveniences away from biting, Vi.’

(Even with her private complaints, she will do it, over and over and over again, every single time he asks. It is not about perfection, and it is not about obedience.)

“Again.”

Rosa begins the sequence—

What Rosa doesn’t find within herself, she borrows from him; his patience, his words, his clothes.

She spills magic, spills soot and sparks, spills heat, spills thoughts in rambling patterns, spills affection like blood from a wound. She overflows, like a thing that cannot be contained, like she is full of cracks, and Viago has learned now how to hold his hands to the worst of it, how to hold with just enough force to keep Rosa from losing her shape, from bursting into a million tiny fragments of blazing stars.

“Stop.”

Someone else might have resented him. Rosa, instead, gets furious if he ever goes easy on her, if he does not push her as far as she believes she can be pushed.

(Then again, she relies on him to know just how far she can be pushed.)

Viago walks towards her, moves her— hands on her shoulders, with her heat seeping through the leather of his gloves he shifts her posture just so, the smallest of changes. 

She lets him, and lets him, and lets him, and does not resent this, but instead smiles, out of breath but always so willing to give him just a little more.

“Something funny?” He asks, quiet, as he feels her shoulders shake with a silent laughter.

“Always,” she replies in that same tone.

“This is not a game.”

“Spoken like someone who does not know how to play it.”

Satisfied with his corrections, Viago steps away once more.

“Again,” he demands.

Rosa begins.

[ink-stainedkiss]

Love is So Cruel - Yuji Itadori

Synopsis: Your breakup with Yuji was probably one of the worst memories you can think of, even if you dated when you were both so young. Now, both of you have grow and see each other once again at a Christmas party. Outside, Yuji wants to know why he can’t be happy and have you at the same time…

Sigh, you guys have got to hate me. It’s quite literally Christmas Eve and I’m only gifting you sadness. 🙁 the bad thing is I can't stop because angst hurts so bad, but it makes my frontal lobe develope in the right way. Aways, only one more day till Christmas and I promise I will give you all a real gift. Please feel free to comment and request! I love seeing your ideas❤️

Warnings:None, unless you count sadness as a trigger.

Word count: 1.6k

The wind rushed by. Its coldness makes good bumps rise on your skin at the smallest touch. You could be warm, inside with all of your loved ones and friends. A comforting yellow glow illuminated from the house and the light was so enchanting, but you needed to settle something. At first, the party was great. The food was homemade and delicious. A Christmas movie played in the background, something old and familiar that anyone could sit down and watch. Small games were happening in the dining room, gifts were being passed back and forth, and no one was sure what they would get.

It was a beautiful sight, but you weren’t inside to see it. You stood, in the cold, a light jacket providing no warmth, but how could you care about the weather when he was standing right next to you? Even past the small flurries of snow, his light pink hair showed through, looking as bright as it did all those years ago. There was a cup in his hand that he occasionally sipped at. You didn’t have to guess what was in it. You watched him carefully. He looked so grown. He was taller, his shoulder broader, and his teenage features were nothing but a memory. It seemed just yesterday he was bouncing around the school, excited and so naive to exercise curses.

The job kills. Mentally and physically. You were just some of the ‘lucky’ people who had kept all of their limbs. But you weren’t out here to talk about being successful sorcerers. No. Yuji cleared his throat, not daring to look you in the eyes as he said,” So, you and Megumi look happy.”

You can’t stop the soft smile that melts onto your face. You and Megumi had gotten married a little over five months ago and things were going a lot better than expected,” We are.” You were happy, so so happy, but tonight, as Megumi held onto your hips, you had gotten a glimpse of the boy you loved so long ago. His face was showing an emotion you couldn’t pinpoint.

You understood why he wasn’t exactly thrilled that you were dating one of his closest friends, even if your relationship had ended. You understood if you were in his shoes, you would be just as numb. There was no pact. No promise. No soul-binding contract that vowed you would find each other again, so you hadn’t done anything wrong. You had simply…moved on. And you were so sure Yuji had done the same. Before Megumi and you even started dating, you checked Yuji’s posts, finding a gorgeous girl who held tightly too. Sure, at the time you felt how Yuji is feeling now, but you saw no point in grieving over a love that was bound to fall apart.

“Do you remember what you said to me that day?” His voice cut through your thoughts like a heated blade. It stunned you at first, but you slowly made the connection,” I do.” His eyes never left the trees encasing the humble home,” You told me that you will love me forever.” There was no amusement nor sadness in his tone,” And I believed you. I really did.”

You sighed, your breath forming a small cloud of fog,” That doesn’t mean I stopp-“

“Don’t.” He cut you off sharply,” Don’t lie to me. I saw how you looked at him and you never once looked at me like that.” His voice was bitter. Frankly, you scoffed,” We were kids Yuji. I committed to something I didn’t even understand completely. I just didn’t want you to hurt.”

“So you go and marry my best friend?” He spit, his jaw tightening. You inhaled slowly, trying to keep calm,”Did you expect me to just sit around and wish you would come back? I couldn’t do that to myself or Megumi. I had to continue to live.”

There was a reason for these venom-laced words being uttered. You and Yuji’s relationship didn’t end in a pretty way. Yuji had gotten too caught up in the missions and ultimately had forgotten about you and your well-being. So when you would scold him for being reckless, he only found it annoying, and after weeks of petty fights and disagreements, you decided it was time to go on a break. You suggested this in the middle of your guys' worst argument yet. You had already been crying, but when you muttered those words, tears started to flow from Yuji’s eyes.

You hated how he begged you to change your mind. He told you he could change and how much he loved you, but he had said those words before and nothing happened. So as he clung to your body, his tear-stained face in the crook of your neck, you told him the truth.

“I will love you forever. Nothing will stop that.”

A hiccup escaped the poor boy and he held you tighter,” Please, don’t leave me. I'm so sorry for everything I’ve done, just don’t go.”

Your heart panged harshly. Oh, how you wished he could turn his desperation into hate. His broken voice and deep sobs were some of the worst sounds you had ever heard. They made your skin crawl, your hands clamping into tight first, and worst of all, they made this so much harder. How easy it would be if Yuji were to despise your living being. Maybe then you could get through this.

Unbeknownst to you, amid your silence replaying the scene, a single tear streamed down your face and you quickly wiped it off. Love was so cruel. It felt nice to float above the clouds, soak in those mesmerizing sunsets and rises, but suddenly, the screen of ultraviolet was torn from your vision and as you looked down, you realized you were free-falling toward the cold and dark earth. Alas, you had already been crushed.

Slowly you turned your head, gazing longingly at the people inside, and you told yourself it was time to go. For the first time that night, you looked at Yuji willingly,” I’m sorry, again.” He made no comment, but you weren’t looking for one,” Maybe in another universe we could have worked out.”

You turned, body screaming to be free from the freezing temperatures, but in the blink of an eye, you were being forced back towards Yuji, who had grabbed your hand all too quickly. He held you close, your bodies touching. The warmth he was producing was almost soothing, but you didn’t move an inch. You stared up into his eyes and it was as if he had been rejuvenated and you were looking at the same Yuji you held onto that night. Even in the darkly lit area, you could see the sadness welling in his eyes.

“Why not this one?” His voice cracked and you felt a wave of Deja Vu. His eyes searched so desperately for an answer, but you couldn't find one. At least one that could give him peace. It was a soul-shattering display. To see someone so determined to be strong for the people he cared about, being torn apart by losing the only one he loved. If you couldn't see how much you meant to him then, then you surely saw it now.

Guilt was eating away at you and it only got worse as he tried to pull back the tear falling from his eye. Instinctively, you cupped his cheek, your thumb wiping away the droplet and caressing his tired face. You loathed how he leaned into your palm, needing some sort of affection, even as the sparks of hope flickered out.

“I know you’ll find someone Yuji.” You stated under your breath,” Someone who laughs with you. Someone who loves video games and movies,” You let out a bittersweet chuckle,” And I know you will find happiness.” Your tiny smile faded,” Just promise me something.”

“Anything.” He said instantly.

“Promise me that you will go out and find her, instead of only searching in the past.”

Your words hit Yuji right in the heart, but deep down, past the yearning and grief, he knew you were right. So as much as his heart denied it, he nodded slowly. You gave him a smile, one that unfortunately made his heartbeat pick up. Slowly you let go of the boy, trying to ignore how his hold on you lingered until you were taking a step back.

“Hey!”

You both whipped your heads around, finding your loving husband standing in the doorway,” You guys are going to miss dirty Santa if you keep chatting out here.” You watched as Megumi held himself, never one to enjoy the cold, and giggled,” Sorry love, we’ll be inside in a second.”

He nodded, already moving back into the warm room,” Good. I don’t want either of you freezing your ass off.” And with that, he shut the sliding door.

It was quiet after he left. You watched the snow-covered floor, and then you made your way back to look at the man,” I’ll see you around, Itadori.” He didn’t have time to respond as you walked away, heading inside to your husband and the party. Megumi opened the door for you, planting a sweet kiss on you the moment you stepped foot into the room and Yuji could see it all.

The only thing that mattered was that you were happy and if that meant it wasn’t with Yuji, then he was going to have to accept your wishes.

Sadly for both you and him, the only person you described matched only one person. But he had already let them slip through his fingers.

[homunculus-argument]

Is five hours per night enough sleep if you physically can't make yourself sleep more?

Like I am tired all the time, and regardless of whether I'm regularly exercising or not, and what kind of food I'm eating, not to mention all the sleep hygiene rules*, my sleep schedule is the same: I fall asleep at 1 am and wake up somewhere between 5 and 7 am with no alarm. I am tired at all times, but nonetheless no matter what I do, my body snaps awake at 5 in the morning like "alright, I've had enough, when are we getting up?"

No matter what other factors get tweaked, that seems to be consistent. I'm aware that I'll probably develop some serious brain issues when I'm older (or within the next 10 years) from the lack of sleep, but I cannot will myself to get more sleep any more than I could will myself to grow any taller. My body just refuses to do that. I'm tired and feel like crap all the time, but the part of my brain that's in charge of how many hours of sleep I'm getting flat-out refuses to accept any more of it.

So would it be more sane and healthy to just accept that five hours is enough and the constant-feel-like-shit is unrelated, or should I be figuring out some way to get myself drugged unconscious for eight hours every night to make it look more normal?

*mandatory addition: Do not cite the deep magic to me, witch. I know the sleep hygiene rules better than you do. You cannot suggest anything that I didn't already know, that I wouldn't have tested, and know for myself whether it works for me or not.

[zaceouiswriting]

The little brother

Character: Reggie Mantle and Male Reader older brother

Universe: Riverdale

Warnings: Just a little violence

Why did you have to agree to this? Why did you let your parents drag you into something like this? Why couldn't you just stay in Cambridge where your parents couldn't reach you? But no, you had to crawl back as soon as they called. Your father knew full well that you still sought his approval after all these years, and he pulled on your heartstrings until you agreed to return to their home and look after your brother for a few weeks. Because he apparently wasn't doing well at school.

But nothing was as it seemed. When you entered the house you called your childhood home, there was not the little boy who always wanted to be near you, but a moody teenager, almost of age, lying half naked on the couch, showing off his perfectly sculpted upper body.

The moment Reggie saw you, his face contorted with anger.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he asked with a harsh tone, very different from the loving voice he had used towards you as a child.

Already done with this shit, you drop your bags to the floor still at the front door. Eye rolling, you closed the door behind you and went to your lazily sitting brother.

“Our parents thought it would be good for me to come here and look after you while they are away. They hope I can jog your walnut-sized brain.”

Your brother mocked you dismissively. After which, he stood up from the couch and walked towards you. The two of you were at the same level, staring into each other's eyes. He became noticeably taller, and you couldn't miss how wide he was getting. Football seemed to be good for him. You never liked team sports, mostly because you were a cowardly child who hated exercise.

Reggie suddenly tried to push you, but you stood your ground, your eyes glowing fiery. You, too, have become stronger thanks to the gym.

“Oh, I see. You’re trying to mark your territory like a dog? Or do you want to test who the man in the house is?” you asked him, grinning widely as his face turned into hatred.

You could see the movement of his arms before he even tried to hit you. You duck away with ease, only to give him an uppercut. He flew onto the couch. But somehow, he quickly got back on his feet. In the meantime, you got yourself into position, already prepared for your stubborn brother to jump back to his feet.

“Trust me, baby brother, this won’t be a good idea.”

You tried to get him to stop his stupid behavior you really tried, but he didn't listen. He thoughtlessly tried to attack you again, but you knocked him down even faster than before. You weren't the best boxer, but you learned quickly.

With just two hits, you knocked out Reggie. Looking down at your brother, you could only sigh. Was he always so hateful? Or is he still angry that you up and left when you were sixteen?

Your brother was obviously an early bloomer. He was already goddamn handsome. It took you years to get anywhere close to it. If you were honest, you were pretty jealous of it. You were almost twenty-three, and your little shitter of a brother was barely seventeen, and yet he looked just as good as you. Maybe a few more hits could help?

Before you could demolish his face out of jealous reflex with your fists, you shook yourself out of these thoughts. Instead, you placed one arm under his upper back and one under his legs. With some effort, you lifted your brother into your arms.

“Shit, you’re heavy,” you said through gritted teeth.

Carrying your brother upstairs to his bedroom, you carefully lay him down on his soft bed, breathing a sigh of relief as his weight was lifted from your arms. Even after years of training in the gym, you couldn't have carried him any longer than this.

You gently put the blanket over him and check his pulse to be on the safe side. Feeling like everything was fine, you looked around.

With a growing headache, you knew you couldn't leave his room in this chaos. He was such a clean freak as a kid, but now he's grown into what you were as a teenager: a hurricane.

You took out hidden fast food rappers, something your parents wouldn't allow their star athlete son to eat. Some dishes that could almost walk, and of course clothes. His room smelled like a high school locker room. You didn't mind the smell since gyms don't smell much different, but it unsettled you inside. For just a second, a fleeting moment, you imagined your brother in an inappropriate way that shocked you to your core. You never thought you would think of your brother like this. To be fair, the asshole has grown into one hell of an attractive guy.

After you cleaned his room in record time, you stared at his sleeping silhouette for just a moment. He still looked as sweet as ever. You walked close to him. As you stood in front of him, you gently brushed some strands of hair out of his face and placed a tender kiss on his forehead. A bedtime ritual you had when you were both younger.

“Sleep well, little shit,” you murmured against his head with a big smile, hoping he wouldn't remember anything the next day.

As you moved away from him towards the door, a sudden grab on your arm turned you around, only to be pulled into someone, your brother. In his sleep, he somehow managed to grab you and pull you into him. As you lay on his bed, he immediately laid his head on your chest, wrapped both arms around you and one leg as if you were a big pillow, and just slept.

Initially, you were stunned by the situation but soon found it amusing, to the point where you almost busted out laughing. However, you managed to stop yourself just in time. Instead, you placed your right hand on your brother's head and gently stroked it. You knew Reggie was a deep sleeper, and it was unlikely that he would wake up anytime soon. So, you prepared yourself for a long day ahead of you.

[Masterlist]

[lupamoe]

Dear Author I for some reason just got a very funny thought. 🤭

I remember based on Aqua current height he is going to be the shortest of the group (172 cm) and I can imagine him being annoyed because he's being babied by everyone especially since he's the youngest.

Aqua probably got his petite figure from Ai and his skinny body from not eating much and stress from his revenge. But then something funny came to mind. What if after he started to live with Testar he suddenly got a growth spurt.

Like his growth slowdown when he turned 18 years old (only getting from 172 to 175 cm). And he probably just gives up to grow taller and face his fate from being teased the baby of the group from the taller and more muscular members (I'm looking at you Keun Sejin and Eugene). But imagine after a certain time, he unexpectedly got a growth spurt and grow to hit 180 to 181 cm height in half a year.

Aqua thought he probably got the growth spurt from finally eating healthy especially since Moondae always encourage him to eat more and he got physically trained by Keun Sejin and Chungwoo his body health is improving.

I imagine that Bae Sejin and Moondae is happy that Aqua is growing healthy and more happy but they are actually a little annoyed that they are the shortest of the group now that Aqua has grown and Keun Sejin keep making fun of them.

When Aqua visit back to Japan with his growth spurt imagine the surprise in Miyako and Ruby's face when they see how much Aqua grown during his time in Korea. Ruby actually grow a little height during Aqua time in Korea (from 158 to 161 cm) so she's annoyed with how much her brother grow.

The funny thing Ruby keeps asking Aqua if he grow so much because he eats a lot of the Korean barbecue meat is different from the Japanese Yakiniku and demand she got some meat (don't worry Aqua does brought home Korean beef as souvenir). Imagine Aqua meet again with Taiki and he's just confused what happened to Aqua for him to grow this much.

But despite his growth spurt Aqua still have a slender and lean figure so he still look smaller if compared to more muscular members of Testar. (Eugene keep mentioning that he can warped Aqua waist with his hand)

Okay that's so interesting to think about.

I can totally imagine him resigning himself to being the "smallest" in Testar, only to suddenly shoot up in height when he least expects it. (Growth spurt am I right) The idea of him initially thinking he’s doomed to be the group's baby, getting teased by Sejin and Eugene, and then shocking everyone by hitting 180 cm would be satisfying. And of course, Aqua’s logical deduction that his growth spurt is thanks to proper nutrition and exercise feels very in-character, even if it probably makes him question his past self’s... more than questionable eating habits.

Ruby feeling betrayed that she only gained a few centimeters while her brother suddenly shot up. Her excuse that Korean barbecue has some kind of secret growth formula is hilarious, especially since you just know she’d demand proof in the form of food. And poor Taiki, probably staring at Aqua like he just encountered a different person entirely.

Lmao, thank you for this thought. Will live rent-free in my head.