#ag fractal

[ardienothesieno]

massive doodle dump

+ egg

suppose this is probably a good chance to plug my toyhouse? I have a toyhouse now: https://toyhou.se/ArdienotheSieno

[mistborn-bastard]

she molten on my shaman til I

[mathysphere]

Checkit out! An ornament for the mathematically-minded: a Koch Snowflake, fourth iteration. It's one of the most famous fractals, and a personal favorite aesthetically, too.

Fun fact: as the number of iterations goes up toward infinity, the perimeter of the snowflake does, too, but the area doesn't-- a snowflake with infinite iterations would have an infinite perimeter, but its area would be 160% of the area of the original starting triangle.

This one's up in Xstitch Magazine's Christmas issue now! Photo is by Stacy Grant, who works for the magazine, and you can get 20% off with the code 'Issue24Star' :)

[ecosensual]

Sacred geometry of the sunflower 🌻

[waywardsalt]

For Linebeck 👀

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character

For Ganondorf

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

Linebeck:

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

oooooh how do i pick… i love pretty much all canon information (within phantom hourglass) about him… i think for the past few months my favorite canon thing has to be his whole role in the final boss. phantom hourglass’ final boss makes me want to eat drywall (pos) and i’m obsessed with how linebeck plays into it and how it could be read as a further extension of his arc or a forced regression or… it’s just a really, really cool thing he’s involved in, and nothing else like it really happens in the rest of the series, and it’s like… hell yeah man go be the only non-villain character to be the final boss of a zelda game. at a certain point it stops being me purely enjoying canon and then starts being me having fun with piecing together anything that could even slightly stick and following every branching idea that starts with linebeck ending up as the final boss, and it’s all very fun.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character

hmmmmm... as something i don't think i've clearly shared here, i think he really, really likes snakes. not to the degree at which he likes cats, but he loves all kinds of snakes. he knows about snakes and does research about snakes and picks up snakes out in the wild without first explaining that 1) he saw a snake and 2) it’s not venomous. linebeck’s a snake guy as well as a cat guy.

Ganondorf:

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like

i suppose i really enjoy seeing people just… talk about him? about his motives and history, what they like about him, i like it when the fandom treats him as more than a one-dimensional villain, it’s not much but he’s honestly not a character i’m tooo invested in, so i just like seeing what the people who really like him do with him. i like when people make him a little silly, it feels like it’s done best with the person doing it really loves ganondorf.

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

i honestly can’t quite remember what my first impression of ganondorf was; i started with the original legend of zelda, and a link between worlds was the first one i finished, so i was familiar with beast ganon before ganondorf, and likely saw ganondorf for the first time either in some youtube video or in a smash bros game. so i think my first impression was a sort of… oh neat he exists. no real strong feelings, played ocarina of time and og hyrule warriors and figured he was just neat. now, since i’ve been seeing more of what people who really like him have to say and generally engaging with him more as a character, he’s easily one of the most interesting loz characters and one i really want to learn to write in some way, since only recently i’ve really written him in earnest (as opposed to an incidental character or something).

Questions

[mysticalblizzardcolor]

Listen to: Surfing a Fractal Wave by John Martini

Surfing a Fractal Wave ~from Ambient Cosmic Garden ~by John Martini 

[inthewindtunnel]

Fractal Age

Faded Blossom

-album-

[unproduciblesmackdown]

the "what are you even talking about, like what do you mean when you say this" overlap imo between people talking about who's Bad At """conflict""" & talking about who's Bad At """"""social skills"""""" like. those supposed Social Skills being about carbonized Rituals that serve to indicate you're not a threat to each other, b/c the only reason to truly deviate from "never behaving in a way someone doesn't expect or feel they immediately understand / sympathize with" is b/c you're using more spontaneous communication to Fight, with an eventual winner/loser, and talking is just a power struggle and/or power play to assert your preestablished higher status, i.e. already being thee A Winner here

like this exhausting dynamic b/w these two bros just like talking about what they got out of [xyz] experience and how perhaps especially when you're supposed to be [the concept of Men] things are elevated re: the proximity to / frequency of fighting each other and always assessing each other's Threat Level, and these two random guys just have this tepid discussion and any time someone goes "and i also alternately/additionally thought/felt [xyz]" the other one does the bizarre like, semi exasperated? "no yeah Of Course" as though like oh we are so on the same page you didn't even have to say that and actually you're kind of an asshole for even starting to say it before i immediately cut in as soon as i realized i could agree at all to tell you to shove off with voicing it, how dare you even theoretically think i don't think exactly what you're thinking now shut up….again: exhausting

like Communication, the more freeform or extensive, is Bad, b/c you're potentially in Conflict, and conflict is fighting & being threats to each other & someone potentially needing to be crushed b/c how else do you resolve a Conflict Fight? versus like, can not the concept of A Conflict be more distilled to something so matter of fact that nobody even needs to Feel any ways about it. like the "theoretical" conflicts that would just be like. something can't happen as something hypothetically intended it to. like a scheduling conflict being, in fact, a conflict, without anyone needing to have been in the wrong for having an appointment on thursday afternoon, and without anyone needing to Concede The Point of scheduling anything on a thursday afternoon b/c they are the one who Lost w/e negotiation about how to work around this. can not "i was operating on one understanding of what's going on for you / what you're trying to do and why, and now what's happening isn't aligning with that idea that i had about how things are" be a conflict that can be resolved by perhaps talking to that person. versus assuming you must be correct b/c you're normal and so something's wrong with them and/or they're messing with you on purpose b/c they're an asshole now, and even if you realize you were wrong about something way down the line you can just be like "well sorreeee how was eye supposed to know [xyz] and i Thought i was being Nice b/c i Thought you were [xyz] so i was in the right and now you're coming after me by being like 'actually by doing that maybe you hurt or even simply inconvenienced me' like so i'm evil now?? could you not have politely let me keep stepping on your toes forever b/c i assumed something was true? and if you did ummm How Could You Be So Bad At Conflict as to know ppl respond [like this] and so instead politely let me keep stepping on your toes?????? i also resent all this"

versus if you see the conflict of "i seem to have misunderstood you / you misunderstand me" as Not Necessarily Threatening then you can comfortably just actually communicate about it. that autistic people who are used to thinking of themselves through the lens of [how others may interpret any/everything about them], having to be more aware of themself as An Other than A Self, won't assume everyone's reading everyone else's mind at all, or even think of that as the ideal approach, and will like, readily give & seek information from others to actually try to be on the same page and have this Constructive experience where you've worked together to navigate your interaction as two different people who would not somehow magically be in alignment, unless you consider the "alignment" to be the power differences that must exist and the priority in Socializing, thus what makes for "good" "social skills," is never threatening them, or god forbid Disrespecting them by Ignoring them: say, how autistic people will have less status/[the social capital] b/c of being autistic, yet the assholes will be Talking (the medium of a fight) and Asking anything of others like participation in an interaction (fighting) and btw by thinking they're Allowed to talk all freestyle rather than in the hollow scripts of "i'm amicable i'm not threatening you. directly. this may be passive aggressive" and by treating me as a mere equal they're trying to drag me down to their level and/or elevate themself to mine, and b/c this is a disruption of the power hierarchy that must exist, we have a problem, and they started it, and they're an asshole

(also: i & many people Do also consciously disrespect & ignore the [socializing = power struggles] concept & its goings on lol. and there's also ofc no real "normal" Universal social style across all cultures and groups and individuals and Misinterpretation ft. bad faith reactions happens on endless fronts. but nt people will pretend there are Rules that everyone has had to be Trained on and if you disobey you'll never deserve to be treated as a person. all "and people only smile when they're happy. unless, did i miss a memo? that frowns means happy now???" etc etc like you see it's all passive aggression or the tools of passive aggressiveness but to "help" someone without threatening them but you Can be pissed if they misunderstand, or at least know you were in the right.)

the way it's Normal(tm) to never actually think of how you don't Know someone else's thoughts/feelings, to never presume they could operate differently and for reasons you can't just accurately infer with a guess re: why You'd do it, to not try to actively undergo a mutually cooperative interaction to better understand each other / be working with the same info, but oh it's autistic people who Are doing all this who never think about how other people are different from their weirdo asses. the "social skills" of assuming wrongly, getting mad at others for supposedly realities you just made up, responding to assuming xyz & being mad about it by punishing/excluding someone & possibly getting others in on it. whilest nd people with their Wrong social existences & approaches are always navigating communicating/socializing as something to do actively & consciously to connect with & understand other people and Don't necessarily think [wow this person doesn't seem to be behaving Amicably towards me?] is a) correct or b) proof they're an enemy to defeat, b/c that's how they're generally treated? the whole time you know communication can fail and you're navigating that w/active effort & constructive intent while people who operate on [if someone does something you don't expect / not according to the script: kill or be killed. or kill just b/c you can & that's the only way you can relate to yourself/others] are like wow what an asshole who i guess doesn't want to get along with anyone so let's see them in hell.

not to mention being shut out from even basics of communication b/c socializing is about respective power levels and you do need Authority to do things like "say whatever" or "have people care about your personal experience at any time" or "say anything at all, actually" like ppl discussing things like "i don't know that i can't Read Cues, vs that i just know they might mean any number of things" vs if someone's not looking at you while you talk it can't be b/c they're actually trying to listen better, it's b/c they're ignoring you / uninterested to pwn you, if they show they relate by saying "hey yeah that's like when i [xyz]" they're one upping to pwn you, if they smile they're happy people only smile when they're happy unless did i miss a memo that frowns means happy??? b/c if someone also makes any expression it Must have been caused by You and they're letting you know as much to pwn you.....or ppl talking about how they can never jump into a conversation b/c they just Can't Get The Timing Right the way other allistic ppl can walk right up and barge in and be absorbed into the convo, or even have a [one on one convo w/ the autistic person] quickly turn into [one on one w/the newcomer, Excluding the autistic person] and other people being like, is it about our "social skills" and "timing" or is about when you' have the authoriti're understood to have the superior social status, you Deserve to do things like cut in on a whim and be listened to, timing does not matter, Not ignoring / forgetting the inferior person does not matter. like, the issue isn't always just "i tried to jump in and it went a bit awkwardly," it can be standing there and talking and being completely ignored w/o much evident conscious effort, or even the least time on some pending [choice to ignore]. you can be hypothetically In the interaction, like, allowed in the group, w/o people noticing when you talk, b/c you don't warrant Listening/Processing, or at least, the least response to indicate that and thus validate that An Exchange is occurring, versus: shut up already b/c shut up always unless someone else wants you to one word answer a question and then possibly misunderstand you w/hostility, but if you Explain anything in unasked (as it always is) depth you're a) out of line, nobody told you to talk more hence the only reason you'd be justified to do so b) defensive, also out of line when you deserve others' judgment, and/or obviously a sign of knowing you're out of line and thus doing too much to avert your just punishment c) providing info b/c you think w/o info i might be Wrong b/c i'm Dumb & Bad. no You. d) all of the above and more

and if, perhaps because trying to talk live & in person means stuff like the above, and other behaviors/mannerisms being judged as weird so let's kill them b/c obv they're killing us by being so weird, and if you're trying to be "normal" that's diminishing your ability to actually communicate or like get through your day and requires hurting yourself for the benefit of others so they don't hurt you more (spoilers. the resonance w/experiences of other instances of "you're responsible for how other ppl, who are superior / have authority, treat you, and have to 'earn' their positive treatment or even neutrality b/c you do not Already inherently deserve it," i.e. interpersonal abuse) and still won't even fully or always work (see prior parenthetical) b/c even if one person pretends things b/w multiple parties can be unilateral, it is not (see: prior)....anyways and If all that means say, someone can communicate a) more effectively and b) with less real pain & depletion via Other Mediums, like emails / otherwise written, non real time correspondance, or god forbid something so Unreasonable as real time / in person that's still not talking, with correct Tone and Inflection and Body Language and Posture and Eye Contact and Handshake and Je Ne Sais Quoi and Cut Of Your Jib and All American Interests And Sensibilities and Etcccc, like what a tyrannical demand that could just never even be considered and i have the Right to eye contact and phone call and etc etc etc (you do not) Stop Hiding (you warrant avoidance if you think no one should be able to avoid you)

and parallel to nd people having the theory of mind and social/communication skills that don't understand all interactions as asserting or vying for power or indicating you're Not threatening someone in the realm of supposed social power, and thus do not operate with that premise, the victim blaming that is "obviously that treatment is bad and i would know it is bad and not tolerate it because it is bad. so people subjected to it have to be worse than me, and deserve it more" where it's also definitely not the fault of the people issuing the treatment, b/c how could they Really know it's bad if the other person is experiencing it without Stopping them, hence telling them It's Okay??? well sorrreeeeee how was i supposed to know that [xyz] was actually hurting you, it's your fault for not blowing up at me, which would've been deemed this uncalled for reaction if you had, and now i'm mad if you're Making me feel Bad b/c that's the discomfort that really matters????? fuck you for telling me, with this kind of response why didn't you tell me?? like, uh oh, same logic at work. and that when other people keep running into the realities that actually their good faith expressing of "actually this hurts me" or more spontaneous reactions to being hurt are just taken as justifications to treat Them as some aggressor / problem creator wronging the other, ofc they aren't likely to simply keep trying that when it's not serving the purpose it "should" or supposedly Would, b/c well if only this person did xyz then nothing bad could ever happen to anyone. and when people ofc Have to become accustomed to [other person or people who can & will treat them badly if they want to, or even just thoughtlessly, b/c they can, & don't choose to do the opposite, b/c even if they're aware they've hurt someone it only matters if they feel justified / they care more about keeping their relative status (it's being autistic, it's [the Authority of Superior Status is coming from inside the house: the concept that husband owns a wife, parents own children; familial abuse])] then it's like wowww they just put up with it, it's their fault then. god forbid that even if they extricate themself from one abusive situation, they're still vulnerable, other ppl take advantage of the vulnerability & they're now in another abusive situation and are used to navigating that indefinitely, vs how someone else might have the preexisting advantage of Not being used to that, not having the experiences to navigate it more indefinitely, finding it more extraordinary & thus having more confidence in their assessment of the situation, and not having the kind of vulnerability in the first place to a) have been in such situations prior b) be stuck in this one now, including perhaps being able to expect that their feelings will matter to others and others will support/help them on that basis, or that their feelings will even be regarded as real/existent. Being Autistic.

(also, yknow, other nd experiences. like adhd classics of "but if you cared / cared to try, you would simply [xyz]" and the like. this is about the crossovers, this is about the "it's the same thing. [who has the restricted autonomy? who has the power at the expense of others' autonomy?] extended universe")

and like the idea that abused people were just Bad at """Conflict.""" and that even if they're extricated from one abusive situation, they might have xyz behaviors / approaches that aren't Normal and that Those make them "worse" at "conflict" too. that nobody "normal" could be lacking in their "normal" approach to interacting with others, neurodivergent people and others who get to be, like, Others(tm) others, definitely don't have [behaviors / experiences related to repeated trauma??] pretty across the board, they're probably just doing more fucking up at being normal which is why they don't get to be considered normal in the first place, ofc. like, what tf is Normal Joe doing to question if they're perhaps not now and have not always been and may not always be the Perfect Interactor. much less to actively try to navigate that, and assume there'll be more to learn b/c there's all these other people who are all different and all always changing. and to perhaps Try to be safe to interact with beyond "well i Mean well" "well a normal person wouldn't regard anything i did as Tryinnng to hurt someone" "well is it my fault i just Assumed you were simply as normal as me? aka the nice thing to do? the thing you should be trying to do?? way to be a weirdo, like having experienced traumatic harm and now that's like, a part of your life and you're not actually Wrong about it or Lied To that that's possible b/c it clearly is and you can't be aware of the precarity re: that happening again b/c welll it's not normal for it to happen surely, i'd Know if it was, you can't recognize your vulnerability, you're kind of an asshole for making that experience anyone else's problem, it's not My fault, keep it to yourself and just get over it asap" like the real problem is if someone might have to so much as consider consciously doing something differently b/c someone else is different than they thought and also nobody's Above considering others and how they're affected by your actions. liiike so long as i didn't mean to, or so long as we don't really care about how they're doing b/c they Are less of a person with a wronger existence that means they bring it upon themself and there's a Narrative about how actually my Superiority is a noble burden that is only trying to punish them towards being as superior as me. and/orrrr i don't even have to think about it & thus have any narrative b/c it's so streamlined / obfuscated as there being any deliberate interference that this is all just Normal, right. people are out of line suggesting [xyz] is ableist or something b/c ughhh it's not about any principle it's about some emotional quota like, okay i've begrudgingly assessed Some things as sympathetic/reasonable to not do, & that's enough, & you can only ask so much of me vs this being a constant often conscious lifelong matter to deal with like it is for people who could be hurt by it?? the contempt is effortless and normal and you have to be trying to be evil & feel evil about it for anything to count. if other people say they're affected a) who cares b) they're probably being too sensitive. another way they're worse. i'm not entitled here c) are they even frowning to prove they're sad? well they're either too sensitive Or they're manipulatively exaggerating / faking it anyways. the convenient fact that nobody can provide external ""proof"" of their thoughts or feelings or intentions, which means i'm always justified if know i think i am, which, let me check, yep: i know i think i do, and it means that i can assume other people are shit inside and hurting them doesn't do anything Real and they deserve it anyways

anyways merely being Normal Mode and Not Thinking You've Been Malicious Or, Sometimes More Importantly, Out Of Line Re: Your Justified Authority is maybe not a basis of successful interactions. what if you try thinking of yourself as [an other, to all others] and not better than other people if you've never much noticed being treated as worse, or at least not as As Worse as Those people or That person, and maybe just b/c You'd only explain something to someone to patronize them b/c nothing should ever not be immediately understood, doesn't mean other people trying to convey their experiences and ideas to you b/c they know you're different people are attacking you as so inferior to you as to be patronized, b/c you're different ppl and they Are better at communicating / socializing when not treating others as inferior or superior Or only equal b/c of being Litchrelly the same person as you, Never even share a thought b/c Of Course i'd immeidately agree with it, how dare you, shut the fuck up

(thinking how people can Parallelly share a space without talking / seemingly interacting more directly than that, as "i am comfortable w/your presence" and/or "we can both use this space as we see fit simultaneously w/little to no need to hash anything out abt it / may rather silently work around what the other is doing" and this may be seen as signaling hostility / contempt / some power play, like also when cats do it b/c they choose to be around you. or just so Weird. you can't even go to a public place Alone, are you kidding? weird And sad)

maybe just saying "don't be afraid to ask questions / for help :)" doesn't make everyone comfortable asking questions / for help, or otherwise able to. maybe not even doing that much & simply thinking your being Normal & correctly Friendly implicitly conveys it to all & makes you approachable is not that guarantee, either. maybe saying "just tell me if anything makes You uncomfortable" doesn't put the responsibility on them for real, just surely takes any blame off you (no?). like sorry do you Want to asap reach a point where you can forever stop being concerned with how what you do may affect others and assume you're perfectly correct abt the needs of everyone you encounter and how your behavior is good enough to one size fits all treat anyone? speaking of being patronizing, and the attitudes behind it. someone who's abused is now Wronger about how to treat them so that they can feel safe. if they want to communicate in ways that seem weird or too distant they're wronging Me, if some misalignment can only be recognized through someone being hurt (as only judged as reasonable / real by the more Normal party) and having to have a conflict as a Fight to determine who the Wrong / Loser party is, what do you mean that's not going to feel safe to everyone. it can't be that a lot of people easily hurt others without having to notice it or Feel wrong about it. dunno how it could be that ppl are like "does being autistic share traits/behaviors associated w/trauma or is it that like everyone is all but guaranteed trauma for being autistic" and if it does well clearly what matters is no normal people feeling bad for thoughtless contemptuous abusive treatment or having to consider operating on different social values/principles towards any & everyone? the autistic people should just become not autistic, i.e. not exist, i.e. also it's their fault how other ppl treat them, whoops it's the same logic behind [anyone abused in any situation / form]

also the idea that like, what, oh someone's Wronged if they didn't feel they had the Chance to Befriend someone or even be Close to them, like, what, is anyone Entitled to even have some trial run at being any given person's friend, or close to them, or w/e other personal access to them? ppl can then cite a noble Concern like oh but if they don't let anyone in they'll be alone, oh but if a child avoids me their shit parent in their room then that can't be good for them, oh but if an autistic person goes unpunished then they'll always be hated & mistreated (as deserved), like, the primarily cited Benevolent Magnanimous reason for the disdain is secondary to [i'm just justifying continuing on exactly as i've been doing, b/c i already can] like yeah oh my god could it be possible that people in shitty positions going through shitty experiences might have complicated reactions to that reality that is different than yours but not Wronger just b/c you think yours is better / more Normal, which means better. and if they ever take on any blame / take on more responsibility in ways that they direct inwards, like that they Continue to be responsible for how others feel about them, what they assume about them, and how they treat them, (which they probably are b/c that's totally for [inferior abnormaller people] like nervous unconfident loser weirdos like them who just Failed to respect Themselves enough to not be abused & continue to be blamed for that, as well as for not being treated w/basic respect as an equal person) well then how heroic to use the idea of their compounding hurt to wash your hands of your own responsibility in any interactions w/them. they have to become as Normal as me first, how unreasonable for someone to recognize that even "normal" interactions involve some people being deemed superior while other people are more scrutinized, punished, and blamed, w/no recourse, even in Casual Friendly exchanges :) so mean to have been too uncomfortable to say they were uncomfortable or have felt too unsafe to say they felt unsafe! *i* was within my rights as [but i'm just so normal and well meaning] and i mean what do they expect, their standards are impossible and unreasonable and unfair b/c it's not i the range of Normal to Haaave to accommodate them (ugh. the Real imposition), and they're just using excuses vs taking Responsibility & enacting Agency anyways, their fault entirely. people are so sensitive these days you can't just have a conversation??? i have no problem w/this logic thanks

anyways it's half past one and i could always go on. normative standpoint "bad conflict skills" [handshake] "bad social skills" like hmm are they really. so heroic to worrying abt if [xyz] is bad for themself but what's good for themself would probably make you think they're even more of an asshole who's wronging you (e.g. someone consciously trying to be "worse" at [preventing the least conflicts via people pleasing], someone consciously trying to be "worse" at [being deemed marginally more socially successful via masking]), are you being wronged or did you presume you're entitled to something / perceive someone else as entitled b/c they weren't acting like you're inherently better than them, which you are, there's not a problem unless power is threatened, which makes it always the totally inferior people's faults, *i* didn't think there was a problem & *i* would've known (backup: well how was *i* supposed to know)....who gets to be superior, who's always in the Process of having to work for deserving basic respect as a person (b/c they keep failing to deserve it ofc), who's more vulnerable and has no recourse even if they don't like it and would be out of line just asking for otherwise / merely implying as much by expressing that they're hurt, who has the power to hurt someone whether through malicious schemes or spontaneous thoughtlessness/ignorance, who has restricted choices re: their autonomy, who gets to choose what happens to other people & the elements of their personhood, their time, energy, body, feelings, effort, etc, & hurt / imperil (require they take on more vulnerability/precarity) them to enforce it....but who cares like just go "i'm so normal that it's relatable" & wash your hands of anything, after all your time as the individual hero out here lol. try being an Other To Others rando as good as anyone else who can handle the idea they're wrong / don't already know how to be perfectly right abt everything / not feeling the least actively malicious or "out of line" isn't the end all be all sole priority. what are we talking about with what "conflict" fundamentally is, or how to approach it, or the same re: being "social"? well only assholes who wanna flex on me by being pedantic would bring it up

[zerun0]

"Entropy’s Embrace" — Viktor x Y/N (Gender-Neutral)

English is not my first language. Feel free to comment on any of my mistakes and i will update the post, also I more than happy to receive suggestions, and advice on how to improve my work.

— ! WARNING NSFW(+18): ! — Sexual themes, Smut, Sex, Making out, Teasing, Biting, Fantasy sex.

— Word count: — 2.4k (Full uncut version on AO3) — SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 6 ACT 2 OF ARCANE —

By arcanegifs The world around Y/N was a symphony of shifting light and shadow, an endless expanse where the rules of reality seemed suspended. They hovered weightlessly, surrounded by the intricate fractals of the Hexcore's astral plane. Vibrant purples, yellows and blues pulsed rhythmically, like a heartbeat, as if this place was alive.

Viktor stood nearby, his lean frame bathed in the eerie glow of the Hexcore’s energy. His golden eyes reflected its kaleidoscopic light, and for the first time in ages, they were free of exhaustion, unburdened by the weight of his physical ailment.

“It’s… incredible,” — Y/N whispered, turning to face him, their voice reverent. The glow bathed both of them, rendering every curve and line of their forms more vivid, more real.

Viktor nodded, his lips parting to speak but faltering. His gaze lingered on Y/N longer than it should have, and in this place, where time seemed irrelevant, the moment stretched. He reached out, his fingers trembling slightly, brushing against theirs.

“I didn’t think we…we would see this together,” — he said, voice low and velvety. — “I feared I would be gone before… before anything meaningful.”

Y/N’s chest tightened. There was a vulnerability in his words that Viktor rarely let surface. They moved closer, their hands entwining fully now, grounding themselves in this surreal place. The Hexcore's hum grew quieter, as though it understood it was no longer the center of attention.

“You’ve always been meaningful, Viktor,” — Y/N replied, their voice steady but charged with emotion. — “I see you! I always have.”

His breath hitched, the tension between them electric. Here, in this untethered realm, his barriers seemed to dissolve. No longer the brilliant but withdrawn scientist; he was just Viktor… a man yearning for a connection.

Without thinking, Y/N cupped his face. His skin was warm, a stark contrast to the cold, biomechanical realm around them. Viktor leaned into the touch, his sharp features softening as his eyes closed. When they opened again, they burned with a quiet intensity.

“M-May I?” — He murmured, his voice a rasp.

Y/N’s answer was to close the remaining distance between them, their lips meeting in a slow, exploratory kiss. The Hexcore pulsed brighter around them, as if reacting to the surge of emotions. Viktor’s lips were hesitant at first, but as Y/N’s hands slid to the corner of his neck, tangling in his hair, he deepened the kiss.

The kiss grew fervent, their bodies pressing together as if the astral plane could collapse at any moment and they needed to hold on. Viktor’s hands found Y/N’s waist, sliding up their back, and they felt the strength of his grip despite its gentleness. He groaned softly against their lips.

In this place, their usual constraints, the fragility of Viktor’s health, the weight of their responsibilities, melted away. They were free to touch, to explore, to give in to the magnetic pull between them.

Viktor pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against theirs, his breathing ragged. His hands trembled as they traced the curve of Y/N’s jaw, as if memorizing every detail. — “I don’t deserve this,” he murmured.

Y/N silenced him with another kiss, this one more insistent. — “You deserve everything.”

Their lips met again, hungrier now. Y/N’s fingers slid down to the hem of Viktor’s neck. His hands mirrored theirs, exploring the contours of their body with a reverence that made Y/N’s heart ache. The touch of his fingers sent fire trailing across their skin.

The Hexcore’s light wrapped around them, illuminating every touch, every stolen breath. Their movements synchronized as if guided by the same rhythm.

The astral plane seemed to echo their passion, its light pulsing in time with their quickened breaths. The weightlessness of the realm gave a dreamlike quality to every movement as their hands explored each other with growing fervor. His skin was warm beneath their fingertips, the soft glow of the realm making every detail of him radiant.

Viktor exhaled sharply as Y/N’s lips moved to his collarbone, then lower, leaving a trail of heated kisses along the planes of his chest. His fingers tightened on their waist, pulling them closer.

Y/N looked up at him, their lips curving into a soft smile.

The light around them shifted, becoming softer, more intimate, as if the Hexcore itself was granting them … privacy

Viktor’s touch was reverent, his hands and lips painting a portrait of devotion across Y/N’s body. He moved with deliberate care, as though every kiss, every caress, was a promise… of love, of passion, of a future they had only dared to imagine.

In this timeless space, there was no rush, no outside world to intrude.

Viktor eased them down onto the soft, endless surface of the plane, his body following theirs in a fluid motion. His weight settled over them, grounding them in this surreal space as his lips continued their journey downward. He kissed a trail along their collarbone, pausing to worship the delicate rise and fall of their chest. His hands caressed their sides, his touch leaving a blazing heat in its wake.

Every movement of his was purposeful, a mix of care and longing as though he wanted to savor every moment. When his lips brushed the sensitive skin just below their ribs, Y/N arched into him, their breath coming in short gasps. Their fingers tangled in his hair, urging him on, and Viktor responded with a soft, low sound of approval that vibrated against their skin.

He pressed a lingering kiss to the sensitive dip of their hip, his hands smoothing over their thighs with deliberate slowness. His touch was light, almost teasing, as if memorizing the softness of their skin. Y/N trembled beneath his ministrations, their chest rising and falling with uneven breaths, each exhale carrying his name.

His lips pressed to the inside of their thigh, the gentle scrape of his stubble sending a shiver up their spine.

His hands spread their thighs gently, his touch firm yet tender, as though they were something precious. His lips continued their exploration, his kisses trailing lower with an exquisite slowness that had Y/N gasping in anticipation.

Viktor took his time, his every action laced with devotion, his lips and tongue exploring them with a precision that spoke to his brilliant mind and an emotional depth. He moved as if guided by instinct, his focus entirely on them, attuned to every sound, every tremor, every whispered plea.

Y/N’s head fell back, their eyes fluttering closed as their body responded to his attentions, the sensations cresting higher and higher. They couldn’t stop the soft moans that escaped, their hands gripping his shoulders, their legs trembling as the tension built within them. Viktor’s name spilled from their lips again and again, a mantra of pleasure.

When Y/N finally broke, their release crashing over them like a wave, the light of the Hexcore pulsed brightly, the realm seeming to echo their cries of ecstasy. Viktor didn’t stop, his movements slowing only as he carried them through the waves of pleasure, his hands caressing their trembling thighs in a grounding touch.

As Y/N’s breathing steadied, Viktor pressed one final, reverent kiss to their inner thigh before moving back up to meet their gaze. His golden eyes were filled with an unguarded tenderness, his lips glistening, his hair tousled from their touch. He leaned down to kiss them, the gesture slow and intimate, a silent sharing of the connection they had just created.

Y/N let out a shaky exhale, their chest heaving as they looked at him with wide eyes. — “Viktor…"

He moved upward, his lithe body pressing against theirs as his hands framed their face. The touch was gentle, his thumbs brushing over their cheeks as though committing the moment to memory. — “I need to see you,” — he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. — “All of you. I need to feel you… completely.”

The weight of his words sent a shiver through Y/N, and they reached up to tangle their fingers in his hair, pulling him down into a kiss. Viktor groaned softly against their mouth, his body pressing flush against theirs as his hands roamed their sides, their back, pulling them together.

Viktor's hand slipped between them, his touch gentle as he prepared them for what was to come, his fingers skilled yet reverent, eliciting soft gasps and moans from Y/N.

When he finally joined with them, the connection was slow and deliberate, his body melding with theirs in a way that felt as if the universe itself had aligned for this moment. Both of them gasped, the intensity of the sensation overwhelming, their bodies perfectly attuned to one another. Viktor’s hands gripped their hips, steadying them as he pressed deeper, his forehead still resting against theirs as his golden eyes held theirs captive.

“Y-You’re incredible,” — he murmured in a thick accent, his voice rough with emotion. — “You… you make me feel alive.”

Y/N smiled, their hands sliding down to rest on his back, holding him close — 'You are alive" — They reminded him as their bodies began to move together. Each motion was a dance of passion and connection, every touch, every kiss amplifying the bond between them.

Viktor’s breath hitched as their hips met, his fingers gripping their waist with a strength that surprised even him. The slick, intoxicating friction of their bodies made his restraint falter, a low groan escaping his lips as he began to move, each thrust deeper than the last. The weight of his body against theirs, the heat of him inside them, sent shivers through Y/N, their nails digging into his back as they arched into him, wordless sounds of pleasure spilling from their lips.

“Y/N…ah” — he gasped, their name breaking from his throat like a plea, his voice thick with need. His mouth found their neck, teeth grazing their skin before soothing the faint sting with his tongue.

Their legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, until there was no space left between them. Viktor’s movements became more desperate, the precision he was so known for giving way to raw passion. His hands slid down to grip the curve of their thighs, spreading them wider to take him fully.

Y/N whimpered, their fingers threading through his hair, tugging as their own pleasure mounted. “Viktor… please, don’t stop,” they begged, their voice breathless, trembling with the intensity of what they were sharing.

“I couldn’t… even if I tried,” he whispered hoarsely, his lips capturing theirs in a kiss that was as much hunger as it was love.

The Hexcore’s light grew brighter, its pulse quickening in tandem with their movements. The golden glow reflected the sweat glistening on Viktor’s skin, highlighting the tension in his muscles as he moved above them. Every thrust was a perfect blend of power and devotion, driving Y/N closer and closer to the brink.

“Viktor, I’m-” Y/N gasped, their words cutting off in a cry as their body tensed, pleasure crashing over them. Their release hit with an intensity that left them trembling, their cries echoing in the infinite expanse of the astral plane.

“M-Me.. Me ..ah.. too" — Viktor followed them moments later, his rhythm faltering as he thrust into them one last time, his body shuddering as he spilled inside them. A broken moan escaped his lips, his arms tightening around Y/N as he buried his face in the crook of their neck, their names a reverent whisper on his lips.

For a long moment, neither of them moved, their bodies still entwined, their breathing heavy. The light of the astral plane dimmed, its glow soft and warm, wrapping around them like an embrace. Viktor’s fingers traced lazy circles on their skin.

But as the golden light faded, the astral plane’s infinite warmth gave way to a cooler sensation. Y/N blinked, their eyes fluttering open to find themselves lying on a soft bed made out of scraps and some old cloth. Their body warm but covered by a light blanket. Above them, the faint glimmer of bioluminescent flowers cast a dreamy, azure glow, illuminating the sprawling garden around them.

Viktor was beside them, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm as he slept. His features were softened in the pale light, the sharp edges of his jaw and cheekbones bathed in a gentle, otherworldly hue.

Y/N sat up slowly, the events of the astral plane vivid in their mind. The memory of his touch, the light that pulsed around them, and the raw intimacy they had shared felt as real as the dew-kissed grass beneath their fingertips. They glanced around, taking in the details of the garden. Carefully cultivated biomechanical flora, the faint glow of Hextech crystals embedded in the stone pathways, and the distant hum of Zaun’s machinery muted by the sanctuary’s beauty.

This place was Viktor’s creation, his haven. It was a stark contrast to the harsh, industrial world outside, filled instead with life and light, his vision for a better future taking root.

As if sensing their movement, Viktor stirred. His kaleidoscopic eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep but bright with recognition as they locked onto Y/N. A soft smile tugged at his lips, and his voice, husky with rest, broke the silence. — “You’re awake…”

Y/N leaned over him, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “We’re awake,” they whispered, their voice full of wonder. “This…That… Was so dreamy, this place too… so surreal.”

His gaze softened, his hand coming up to rest gently on theirs. “And it is… just the beginning,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of reverence. “This is a place of growth, for change. For us… For the people of Zaun… For all who seek refuge.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at his words, the weight of everything he had created settling over them. “It a beautiful cause, Viktor"

He smiled faintly, his hand tightening around theirs. “You give me the strength to dream, Y/N. To hope for more.” His voice grew quieter, the vulnerability in it palpable.

The garden hummed softly around them, a symphony of life that seemed to mirror their connection. As they lay back together on the makeshift bed, the future stretching before them like an unmarked path, the faint glow of the Hexcore crystals above flickered, their light steady and full of promise.

— Thank you for reading. Shoutout for zaunitearchives, i never believed that "Celestial backshots" would inspire me to write this.

[milksuu]

pairing: 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

tw: mild suggestive themes, minor injury, age gap (in the mythical sense)

notes: don't know why but i wanted to try something original? if i make a part 2, def. will be nsfw. (oh and, i know sirens are usually part bird rather than fish, but we're going with the fish lol.)

Yandere!Siren who lures you by ethereal hymn from the safety of the beach sand, smirking when all those pretty little sea shells drop to your feet once you hear his voice. your hands reach for him, and his scales glitter in the dusk light as they take yours---so cold yet inviting. the biting waters tickling your skin with goosebumps. your enchanted giggles a beautiful song before a feast.

Yandere!Siren who guides your spellbound body below the shimmering waves, into a blue stasis where only you and him exist. he takes your cheeks, warm against the ice of his hands, bringing his mouth to yours with every intent to feast on your body. your lashes curl closed, and bubbles rest like pearls against your lashes, completely at bliss listening to his death song.

Yandere!Siren who stops before he grazes the heat of your lips. behind the drowning fractals of sunlight weaving through his eyes, an overlapping memory crashes against him. this wasn't the first time he's met you; you were a mere child then, and had found him during one of your silly human adventures. you'd freed him from an entrapment of netting and barb. but dared to insult him by calling him a 'pretty lobster', all while waving him off with a wooden-toy sword—a promised threat, no doubt. if it weren't for the fact you had saved him from poachers, he would've eaten you just for comparing him to those lower-living crusted things.

Yandere!Siren who curses and clicks at himself, for having even a shred of reluctance to devour your kind. he reasons a life for a life is a fair debt to pay, regardless of vitriol, and would pay it by sparing yours. he floats your listless body to the surface, and weaves you through the lapping waves back to shore.

Yandere!Siren who hesitates to dive back into the waters. not able to discern the rise and falls of your chest. he wonders if he'd held you beneath for far too long. long enough for sea water to be kept prisoner in your lungs. he drags himself to your side on the sand, hovering intimately above you. he presses his long fingers into your chest, finding your heart beat; soft but present. and although shallow, he observes the rise and fall of your chest. he wouldn't dare acknowledge the small sigh of relief in his throat.

Yandere!Siren who's gaze then roams your sun kissed skin and nipples melting through your soaked linen dress. but doesn't know why heat flushes through his tail, his heart throb at his fingertips, and scales shimmer a dusty pink. the drops falling from his hair pitter-patter on your lips, stirring you awake. he inhales sharply when you share a glance. your face and lips gilded by the afternoon glow.

"Pretty lobster..." you whisper dreamily, eyes still swimming on the lingering notes of his melody.

Yandere!Siren who half-flustered and half-scorned, wants to surrender to the reflex of plunging his sharp teeth into the suppleness of your throat. to mark you for this moment of not only sparing your life, but then having the gall to insult him—again. before he can commit to the idea, he hears the clanking of metal and footfalls of sentrymen descending the beach cliffs.

"Princess!" The soldier's call out. "Princess please, by orders of the King, return at once."

Yandere!Siren who hisses and nips at your hand in compromise to his deadlier wishes for you. He then thrusts himself back into the frigid waters, swimming a safe distance away from shore. when he deems himself veiled behind a jagged rock, he leans to watch, damning himself for certain curiosities. he watches with narrowed lashes as the guards help you to your feet. some patting the sand from your dress, one draping a shawl over your drenched form, and another bandaging your bitten hand.

Yandere!Siren who stiffens when you turn a head over your shoulder, and just like before, wave at him with a smile. that indignant human grin of yours, possibly cursing him with joy. he simmers at the thought, his face warm again, and slowly sinks himself below the surface tension. and to his own annoyance, wondering when you would come to bother him again.

[mourning-again-in-america]

you cannot understand DNS in a way that matters

Every time I have to do something related to computer networking I am reminded that I know nothing

[pedros-mustache]

pieces of you

warnings: established relationship, language, references to sex, references to age gap, x fem!reader

a/n: uhhhhhhhhhh... yeah. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Maybe it’s wrong. Maybe it’s possessive and a tad bit jealous. Maybe after years working alongside Tess, you’ve simply learned to lay your claim on what is yours. 

Whatever it is, you like to think that part of Joel Miller belongs to you and you alone. You like to think there is a part of Joel Miller that the girl will never understand.

The mornings belong to you. Soft and simple, like a whispered kiss upon your forehead, his even breath a language only you know. Often he wakes first, and it is the feeling of his stare carving intricate paths across your face that ultimately brings you out of sleep. He never smiles when you open your eyes, but he brushes his finger across your cheekbone. The gentle touch burns into your skin, and you wear it like a tattoo.

Sometimes—rarely—you wake first, and you watch him sleep. His eyes dance behind closed lids, and you wonder what he dreams about. Sarah, you guess; maybe his first wife; maybe the haunting horror of the last twenty years. You like to run your nail down the strong line of his nose; you like to fashion stories out of the years that have folded lines in his skin and gray hair on his jaw. So much older than you, and yet: yours. 

He wakes, then, when you get too close, too comfortable with smoothing the worry lines from his brow and the dust from the crevices in his neck. He looks at you after blinking away the sleep, and it is like watching a little death. His eyes sparkle with peace, with hope, with something close to affection. He squeezes the hand that rests on his chest, and you swear the corner of his mouth lifts. 

Then—

A twig snaps. Something outside your shelter hits the ground. Ellie coughs.

The light in his eyes fades, and reality swallows him whole. 

You don’t like waking up before him.

The nights belong to you, too. So unlike the morning, the nights are raw and frenzied. He finds you—or you find him. Whatever the truth, you find one another once Ellie has fallen asleep or gone to the other room or sought a moment’s solace in the crooked arm of a nearby tree. He kisses you—roughly. Tongue and teeth and hands fighting against buttons in the darkening light of day.

When he takes you, he muffles his groans against the collar of your shirt. His hands grip the flesh of your waist, his fingerprints scarring your skin. He clutches you against him as though you will turn to vapor in his grasp. You cling to him as though you are one flesh.

The mornings and the nights—they are constant and routine, safe and dependable. You lock them in the refuge of your romantic heart. But there is more, always more, that you horde and tuck away as your own. You inspect the moments and the habits like glittering shells from the seashore or fractals of light that spark a rainbow:

He looks to you for confirmation on a decision, the question silent in his eyes.

He walks close, his shoulder brushing your arm.

He saves his last bite of jerky for you and scavenges for any readable book he can find.

He is a gentleman hidden behind a guardian’s brutal frame, but he is good and he is kind in his own quiet way. And these things—these pieces—you like to think they belong to you and you alone.

/ /

“Hey.” You lay down, body aching and feet sore. The frosty earth seeps through your thin bed roll, and not for once you wish you had an extra blanket or a heavier coat. 

Sprawled out on his back, Joel sighs. His gazes roams across the starry sky. He taps the broken face of his watch. “We coulda gone further. Maybe found a cabin.”

You shake your head. “She fell, twisted her ankle. Give her a night to rest.”

“Still have miles to go.”

“We will always have miles to go.”

Covering his eyes beneath his hand, he nods. “You’re right.”

It is your turn to sigh, but you do so with ease. Despite the wretched state of the world, with Joel, all seems possible. 

You lean your head against his shoulder, careful not to get too close. He is skittish at the best of times, avoidant at the worst, and you are ever-sensitive to his need for space. Still, your hand finds his, and the stars continue their midnight dance.

You begin to catalog what must be done come morning. You’ll tend Ellie’s ankle, check her arm, then review each pack for what must be replaced. You aren’t sure what Joel’s food store looks like, but you’re almost certain Ellie’s is empty, as is yours. 

You sit up, turning to look over your shoulder. “I think we should do some scavenging tomorrow if we can. We’re coming up on—” You stop short, unsure of the look on Joel’s face. “You okay?”

Through heavy eyes, he traces the lines on your face, like he does each morning. He finds your wrist, squeezes it, his eyelashes kissing his cheekbones. 

“I’m yours,” he whispers.

You do not ask him to repeat himself because there is no need. You heard him, loud and clear, as though he shouted the words to you across a deep canyon. You smile, and he withdraws his hand from your wrist. He returns his gaze to the sky, his fingers interlaced on his chest. You return to the cold, frosty ground, but your heart is warm. You place your head on his shoulder, and you sleep knowing that yes, there are pieces of Joel Miller that belong to you and you alone.

[babysfirstfic]

live now, think later

luke hughes x fem!reader

word count: 1.7k

summary: Luke desperately needs to blow off some steam. In a dingy bar, he finds just what he's looking for...

warnings: Brief allusions to sex, but nothing major. Yet. (18+)

a/n: This is my first ever fic! I would love to hear feedback if you have any. I plan for this to be chapter 1 of 3 (but we'll see what happens)! Shoutout to this Tate McRae song for directly inspiring the title and for subconsciously inspiring the plot.

There were few NHL rookies who had more eyes trained on them than Luke Hughes. Between the constant media attention he received from a young age and the pressure that came with his last name, Luke had always had a complicated relationship with his celebrity.

Don’t get it twisted, Luke was super grateful for all the advantages that came with having two all stars for brothers, and there was a part of him that enjoyed leaning into his status. 

On the ice, he welcomed the attention. He loved the chance to put on a show for the fans, reveling in the opportunities to make game-changing plays. Hockey was his craft; the minute he laced up his skates he was an artist, an author, a showman. A single goal could cause an entire stadium to rise to their feet, and the power he felt in those moments was indescribable.

Off the ice, though, it was a different story.

Luke prided himself on his maturity and his charm, his ability to keep his cool even while being peppered with questions and surrounded by cameras. He had years to perfect the art of the interview, expertly dodging personal inquiries and even cracking the occasional smile to make it seem like he didn’t absolutely despise answering the same inane questions over and over again. 

But one could only keep up appearances for so long. He found it exhausting to have to perform all the time. Though he understood it was a sacrifice he’d have to make now that he was living out his dreams, that didn’t make it any easier. 

After several months in the league, he craved a chance to be something other than “Luke Hughes, the hockey player”. He desperately needed to let loose and to make use of the other sides of his personality, the spicier sides, the sides that the cameras would never get to see. 

It was time for this Devil to earn his horns. 

Within the first few months of being in New Jersey, Luke quickly learned which bars would bend the rules for him. In his desperation to fit in with any teammate who didn’t share his DNA, he was willing to do pretty much anything to get in, buying fake IDs, signing jerseys, you name it. He felt it showed his teammates just how committed he was to building their relationships, on and off the ice. 

But tonight, his team couldn’t have been further from his mind. This time, he’d come alone. 

Luke had never had the time or energy for dating, but he thrived on quick hook ups and meaningless sex. No obligation for vulnerability or commitment, just fun. After the whirlwind that had been last year, he needed some fun, and tonight, he was willing to work for it. 

His bar of choice was dingy, a typical dive bar, complete with sticky floors and disgruntled employees, but the low key lighting and loud music allowed for the perfect cover. Luke felt a sense of safety in his anonymity, a feeling which was becoming increasingly rare. 

Waiting in a booth on the edge of the dimly lit room, he scanned the crowd, searching for a glimpse of excitement, someone to steal the blood from his brain and force it elsewhere. 

Suddenly, something, no someone caught his eye. It was you. 

In a glittery backless top with a loose, low cut and black pants that you filled out in all the right places, you were shaking your stuff on the dance floor. Your whole body bounced with every movement. Like a beacon in the night, the strobe lights illuminated your entirety, sending colourful fractals bouncing off in every direction. You were practically demanding Luke’s attention, and you didn’t even have to try. 

You had sensed his eyes on you immediately and couldn’t help but to return his gaze. He looked young but strangely sure of himself, carrying the recognizable swagger of a man who’s used to breaking the rules and getting away with it. Luke would call it confidence, but if you asked his brothers, they’d call it his raging youngest sibling syndrome. 

You were undeniably intrigued. Adding more hip movement to your dancing, you hoped that it would encourage him to join. This certainly was not your first rodeo. 

It worked. Slowly, he stood up from his booth and made his way onto the dance floor. You sensed a shift in his energy, like this was something out of the ordinary for him. “Nice to know he has a weakness,” you mused to yourself, just now noticing the flutter in your heart as he inched closer. 

Luke hated dancing, but something about you drew him in, like a ship of sailors drawn by the voices of sirens. Though he hoped he might meet a different fate; he hoped you might give him a happy ending. 

Eventually, he reached your spot on the dance floor. 

“Hey,” he spoke into your ear, leaning in close so that you could hear him above the music. You felt his breath tickle your neck, sending chills down your back and deep inside. 

“Hi,” you responded, keeping your cool in spite of the tides coming in beneath you. You didn’t know him, had never seen him before, yet everything within you yearned to be close to him, craved to feel his hand against your skin, begged to know him in every sense of the word. “Sheesh girl, you need to get out more,” you thought, smiling briefly to yourself.

Without wasting any time, you grabbed his hand and placed it on the small of your back, finally experiencing the brief release of skin-on-skin. You looked up at him, attempting to decipher the look on his face. He reciprocated your gaze, flashing his crooked smile, practically threatening to melt you right then and there. 

Seeing his smile mirrored on your face, he moved his other hand to match the first, pulling you in close. You nodded to express your approval and quickly fell back into your original rhythm, grinding and swaying your hips to the music. Sticking your hands in his back pockets, you led him through the motions, slowly undulating your bodies to the beat. 

Your eyes scanned up and down as you let yourself take him in. There was something about this boy; he completely captivated you. With his arms around you, you felt safe. He lacked the aggression and forcefulness you had unfortunately come to expect from situations such as these. He was clearly strong, but you caught him out of his comfort zone, so he was letting you take the lead, a role you took on gladly. 

After a couple minutes of finding the right rhythm, your bodies became one. The world melted away. Luke leaned in and began gently kissing your neck, stopping only to briefly nibble your ear. As your pelvises moved up and down to the beat, you began to feel the friction of something rising just below his belt. You responded in kind, sensing a growing heat and swelling between your legs. Neither of you had done this in a while and it was showing, your bodies overly excitable. But you didn’t mind; you were both getting exactly what you wanted. 

“I live a couple blocks from here,” you shouted above the crowd, doing everything in your power not to let out the moan that was threatening to escape your lips. “Maybe we could finish our dance there”. 

Knowing full well he couldn’t wait that long, Luke made a different suggestion. “There’s a hotel across the street. I have a room. Care to join me?” 

In the haze of the crowd and the music and the night, you found yourself moving off the dance floor, out of the bar, into the open air of Newark. 

Your entire body was pounding, throbbing with energy and excitement. Your hand was clasped in his, and only then, as you were making your way through the hotel lobby and down the hallway to the room, did you realize you didn’t even know his name. More importantly, you realized you didn’t care. In fact, it was better this way. No possibility of getting attached or contacting each other afterwards. A true one night stand. 

As you reached the room, Luke spun you around to face him, your back firmly placed against the door. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, leaning close, finally allowing you to get a good look at his face in the light.  

Your gaze trailed down from his curls to his lips, before resting on his eyes. You noticed a slight sparkle in them, a glint, an invitation. This was your chance. “I’ve never been more sure,” you responded.

Lunging forward instinctively, you reached up, taking hold of his hair and guiding his lips towards yours. Your touch was confident, verging on forceful, a byproduct of the pent up energy that needed an outlet and had finally found one. 

Maybe you were a little too forceful. As your bodies collided, they also made contact with the door, sending a loud noise vibrating through the hallway. You briefly paused your moment of passion to laugh, your foreheads still touching, neither of you daring to fully pull away. 

“Someone’s a little eager,” Luke spoke against your lips, chuckling slightly before re-initiating the kiss. 

Just as it had in the bar, the world melted away, making you forget just how publicly you were displaying your affection. 

But you were both being reckless, and Luke knew it. He had been warned about pulling something like this, about bringing negative attention to himself or to the team. He was new and still needed to prove himself. Above all that, he had a squeaky clean reputation to uphold. He was trained to be tight-lipped to the media so that the focus was on his playing, not his personal life. Stunts like this could jeopardize everything he’d worked for, everything his parents sacrificed for. But god, you were making him forget all of that. There wasn’t a single thought in Luke’s mind that didn’t have to do with getting you out of your clothes and under his tongue...

[janmisali]

Super Mario Bracket: GOOMBELLA vs FRACKTAIL

Goombella

SEED: 15 (45 nominations)

SPECIES: Goomba

DEBUT: The Thousand-Year Door

BIO: everyone's favorite snarky bisexual archaeologist Goomba in the greater Super Mario canon

[Super Mario Wiki article]

Fracktail

SEED: 114 (6 nominations)

SPECIES: Robot dragon

DEBUT: Super Paper Mario

BIO: when I played this game at age nine I thought it was cool that this dragon is named after fractals, the mathematical concept. I was such a nerd

[Super Mario Wiki article]

[link to all polls]

[gardens-light]

Something Unexpected

Between debt collectors and the bank flooding the mailbox with eviction notices. Your father's positive attitude could no longer smooth out complications. And you once thought life on the farm couldn't get any harder...

Recent days- no months has been nothing but tough. This never ending sea of bad situations happening one after another, begun to drown and suffocate you. Feeling like you could barely keep float, while working two jobs. Attempting to keep some money flowing in.

But the universe has finally offered you a break. Something that could change you and your family's life forever...

Content: Reader insert. Event take place in 'Transformers- Age of Extinction' (Minor spoilers.) Mild coarse language.

Sparkmate Series- Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 (End)

"Hey, sis! I'm home!" Tessa shouted as she stepped out of her car and onto the driveway. "Lucas and dad has gone to the next town, so they won't be back for a couple of days."

Looking around the family farm, a heavy sigh left her as you were nowhere to be seen.

"Seriously..."

Making her way to the barn, Tessa called out for you. This time getting a response.

"Are you working with lasers? If so, I'm not coming in-"

"You have never seen a truck like this before!" your excited tone cut her off as you abruptly open the barn door. "Get in here. Lock the door."

Tessa raised an eyebrow as you grabbed her arm, pulling her inside the barn. While she closed the door behind her. "It doesn't have a lock..."

"Y'know that rusty ass truck dad brought in a few days ago? Look! Look at the hole in the radiator."

Tessa rolled her eyes at your enthusiastic tone, as you placed an arm through the grill. "Look at the size of it! Something blew a hole in it!"

"Yeah, so?"

"It's not normal steel! The shrapnel in the engine, it ripped all the connections apart."

Tessa watched you fractally climb the scaffolding which brung you a little more to the truck's engine level. Rubbing her temples as a sigh left her.

"I honestly don't know who's worse. You or dad-"

"Dad is going to lose his fucking mind, when he finds out what we've got! And watch! Watch!"

Your sister rolled her eyes before crossing her arms. Her unimpressed gaze watching as you took hold of two jumping cables.

"This took some family genius. You're gonna love this, sis! Just watch what happens when I hook this thing up to a working battery."

Placing the clamps onto the battery, the rusty old truck rumbled and shook in it's place. Headlights flickered as the engine inside failed to roar to live. But the deep robotic voice coming from the vehicle made Tessa's jaw drop.

"Calling all... Calling all Autobots..."

Throwing the cables aside, allowing the rusty truck to slowly die again. Tessa watched you jump for joy, while her stomach did a backflip.

"Oh yea!" you cheered. "I don't think this is a truck at all... I think we just found a Transformer!"

"Are you out of your mind? You need to get that thing out of here!"

"You don't have to worry" you called out, jogging after Tessa as she quickly left the barn. "I've been working on it all night. And look at me. I'm fine-"

"This isn't one of Dad's random piles of junk! It's an alien killing machine!-"

"Sis, it's DOA. Nothing is gonna happen."

Tessa ran a hand through her blonde locks, as she began to pace in front of you. "This isn't happening! This isn't happening!"

"Tessa-"

"Listen! I-I remember Lucas telling me about a number that you call- that you're supposed to call. He said something about you're supposed to call a number, and if something ends up being alien. Then you get twenty-five grand."

"That's bullshit, and you know it." You crossed your arms. "Nobody just hands out large sums of money- especially the government-"

"Y/N, I'm making the call." Tessa's fumbled through her pockets.

"I've seen the commercial. It isn't a guarantee" you protested snatching the mobile out of Tessa's hand and taking a step back.

"Look! If that's a Transformer from the Battle of Chicago. Dad's gonna lose his mind! If I could figure out how it works and apply that technology to his inventions. We wouldn't need to worry about money again-"

"Yeah! That's why you're working two jobs!" Tessa got onto her tiptoes as you held the phone above your head, slightly out of her reach.

She slightly pushed you, quickly grabbing the falling mobile. You both sighed, just giving each other side glances while pausing for a moment.

"Twenty-five grand, Y/N. It pays for the house. It pays for my collage."

"Please Tessa. Please" your begging tone caused a sigh to escape your sister. "Let me do this, and... and I'll do your chores for a week- A month!"

"No. I'm making the call and telling dad-"

"Keep this a secret and I'll... I'll won't tell dad about your boyfriend!"

Tessa's stiff body language made you smile. Stopping in mid-dail as she studied your features.

"I... I don't have a boyfriend"

"Yes you do" your teasing tone unsettled your sister's nerves. "Well at least I hope it was your boyfriend I saw last week, and not some pervert climbing out of your window in the middle of the night. And wearing nothing but his shirt and underwear, may I add"

Tessa bit her bottom lip, "you saw Shane...?"

"Saw him? Girl, I heard him falling out of the window and onto the damn roof. I'm surprise Dad didn't hear anything."

Tessa hesitated before speaking. Groaning at your smug smile.

"Ugh fine! But if you die I'm stealing your laptop!"

"Deal!... You just might wanna delete my browser history first..."

---

" I think the shrapnel took out your power core" you muttered to the rusty machine.

Your legs dangled outside of the truck, while your torso hung inside the engine. Grabbing random bits of shrapnel, lose nuts and bolts, and throwing them over your shoulder.

"Hmm... what this?"

Reaching out for a shiny silver cylinder, roughly tugging it out of the engine and holding it against your chest. As you pushed yourself back onto the scaffolding. Pushing your goggles up onto your forehead, examining the unusual object.

Climbing down the scaffolding and powering up your wielding machine. Hovering the fire torch over the metal, cocking your head to the side.

"Nothing... perhaps you have a higher melting point- oh shit!"

The flame of the torch ignited sparks from the cylinder. Screaming you dropped it, accidently allowing it to fly around the barn. Ricocheting off the walls and floor, banging into the truck and knocking the scaffolding over. Before breaking through the wooden barn door and flying into the house.

Tessa's screams could be heard from the house, as the missile slid around on the floor, going from room to room.

The sound of groaning metal plates shifting caught your attention, your eyes widening as you watched the truck grow taller. Cogs and gears made unhealthy churning noises, as the now 22ft tall robot struggled to get onto his feet.

"I'll kill you!" the machine's voice groaned, as you scattered away.

"Hold on! Hold on!" you cried out. Looking over your shoulder, as Tessa's screams echoed throughout the barn.

The machine pulled out a giant cannon from his back, backing away from you and Tessa, while aiming the intimidating weapon at you both.

"I'll kill you! Stay back!-"

"No! No! Don't shoot!" you yelled, stepping in front of Tessa. Attempting to shield her.

The robot's blue optics studied you carefully, watching your body language as you cautiously stepped towards him. Holding your hands in the air.

"Easy, human"

You slowly nodded before speaking, looking up at the robot as he groaned while sparks spat out of his mechanical joints.

"Weapon systems... damaged-"

"A missile hit your engine" you explained. "And we took it out of you. You're hurt really bad, but you're safe now. You're in my home."

He scanned his surroundings, looking at the messed up barn. A cough echoed from within his chest plate, as dust came out of his mouth.

Getting a little closer, the machine's gaze returned to you as he knelt to the ground.

"I'm trying to help you. My name is Y/N Yeager, I'm an engineer." You reached out for Tessa, whom hesitantly took your hand. "And this is my sister, Tessa."

"Y/N... Tessa. I'm in your debt... my name is Optimus Prime."

You turned back at Tessa, "it's alright. He won't hurt us."

"Wh-What happened to you..?" she asked, not letting go of your hand.

"We... We were ambushed. A trap set by humans. I escaped and took this form." Optimus' voice groaned and coughed. As he withdraw his weapon, allowing it to retract back into his back plates.

"But you're on our side. Why would humans want to hurt you?-"

"They weren't alone... ah! My Autobots! They're in danger!"

Optimus tried to get up again, but his legs gave way. Causing him to fall back down onto his knees and cough up engine fluid, as a part of his headpiece fell to the ground with a loud clang.

"I must go to them now. They can... repair me."

"How far do you think you'll get?" you questioned in a calm tone. "With all this damage, you'll wouldn't make it to them."

Optimus watched you carefully pick up his headpiece.

"But let me help. I can fix you."

Tessa's worried eyes glanced between you and Optimus, as he hesitated before speaking.

"Very well... for now. We have a truce..."

---

"Go in dad's shed, rumish through anything- everything he has. Try and find things on that list."

Tessa grabbed your arm, as you both stood outside the barn.

"Wait! You're gonna try and fix him?" she protested. "He's not a model train set, Y/N!-"

"You're right. He's important-"

Tessa raised an eyebrow, "important to who? You can't keep an alien locked up in Dad's barn. What are you gonna do? Play with him?"

A heavy sigh left your lungs before speaking, "calm down. Just please... calm down-"

"I'm trying to! But a moment ago that rusty ass truck you wouldn't stop messing with, turned into a fucking giant thing!-"

"You still promise not to say anything?"

A half-hearted chuckle left Tessa, as she stared at you in disbelief. "That's your concern right now?-"

"Look! Look! Dad and Lucas is gone for a couple of days, right? That's all I need to get him in a decent state. Once he's fixed, I promise you. He'll be gone. But I need you to stay quiet!-"

"Fine! Fine!" she breathed heavily before snatching the list out of your hand. "But you owe me big time for this! Big time!"

---

"You took one hell of a hit, y'know." You said while placing a molten bit of scrap steel into a bucket of water. "The missile just missed your power source."

"We call it a Spark." Optimus watched you climb up the reassembled scaffolding. Coming to the height of his chest plate, your eyes sparkled in the gentle blue glow of his Spark. "It contains our lifeforce, and our memories."

You flashed him a warm smile before pulling down your goggles. "We call that a soul..."

A low rumble came from Optimus, as he felt your hands carefully place the scrap piece of metal against the opening in his chest plate. Taking your time to weld it into place, while he placed a hand over his Spark. Protecting it from the ambers that occasionally left the fire torch.

The leader of the Autobots gazed down at you. Remaining silent as he watched you solder away.

It wasn't the first time a human patched him up. Back at N.E.S.T, there's been multiple times when soldiers put him back together after a mission. But with you, it was somehow... different.

Your touch was gentle. Each movement was careful and mindfully placed. You even welded things onto him in a cautious manner. It was like you treated Optimus like he was some sort of antique, rather than an millennium old alien being.

"Y/N..."

You looked up at him. Turning off the fire torch and placing your goggles back onto your forehead.

"Why are you willing to help me?" Optimus asked, as he pulled out a large bullet shell from his shoulder plate, and flicking it away.

You felt the Autobot study you, examining every feature upon your face and reading your body language. As you slowly leaned back against the railings of the scaffolding.

"I guess... maybe because you trust me to."

Your words were simple and true. Optimus couldn't detect any lies or waver within your voice nor tone. His scanners didn't read anything out of the ordinary from your relaxed posture.

Perhaps... I've judged too quickly...

"Is it... just you and your sibling?" Optimus asked, trying to make small talk.

You squinted at a few bolts, while holding them up to the Autobot. Judging weather they were right for the next job.

"Yes- well actually no. Our dad lives here- he owns the family farm. But he isn't here." You explained, while putting the bolts down and moving onto different sized ones. "He's in the next town over for the next couple of days. Working- well, selling some inventions."

Optimus looked around the barn, tilting his head to the side as his processors tried to make sense of the random machines and scrap bits of metal. "Are you an... inventor as well?"

A heartful chuckle left you, as you approached the Autobot. Tapping on his left leg, "no. No. I just help him put things together, or strip them down for parts. Whenever Dad has too many projects."

Optimus' groan quickly made you realize the tone of your sentence. You looked up at him.

"Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean anything-"

"It's alright. None offence is taken."

Butterflies slightly fluttered in your stomach as his smile mimicked yours.

You quickly turned your attention back onto his leg. Making sure the bolt wasn't too tight.

Optimus noticed you trying to hide your blushing features. His smile grew wider, finding the action somewhat amusing. He watched you bend and stretch your body, after chucking the tool onto the workbench.

"You've been in here for hours. You should rest."

"I will later." You promised, "but first. Let's put your headpiece back on."

He speechlessly nodded, gently using a hand-crank to bring the scaffolding a little more to his height.

Gathering the tools required to put his headpiece back on, you climbed the scaffolding stairs. Reaching the top and placing the tools onto the metal floor of the scaffolding.

Optimus averted his gaze as you pulled off your hoodie. Allowing your torso to breathe in the light cotton tank top. You examined the wires and gears on the side of his head, tilting your head from side to side.

"I think the inside is fine. Your headpiece just needs to be welded back on." You spoke with a smile, placing your hands on your hips.

"I thank you, Y/N. Your assistance thus far has been appreciated beyond compare-"

"Don't go all soft on me now, Big Guy." You spoke with a smile. "Now eyes forward. You need to stay completely still while I do this."

Optimus faced the barn doors, as you pulled your goggles back into place. The headpiece slotted back in nicely, but you still held it in place as you welded the metals together.

His spark skipped a beat sometimes, whenever he felt your breath upon his metal plating. Through many years he's warned his Autobots about getting too attached to humans, yet here sat the infamous Optimus Prime, allowing a human he's just met for a few hours making him feel this way.

"All done, Prime!" your cheering voice snapped him out of his daze.

His optics falling upon your smiling face. Although you were covered in dirt and grime, to him you were the most beautiful human he ever set sight on.

"Thank you... I am in your debt-"

"Hush. Hush" you interrupted, pulling your goggles down and around your neck. "There's still plenty of work that needs to be done. So promise me you won't wander off."

A low chuckle rumbled in his voice, "I promise."

Your eyes glanced up and down at him, "and promise me one more thing?"

"Of course."

"When you do return to your Autobots... promise you won't forget about me..."

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[inthewindtunnel]

Fractal Age

We Have Arrived