#and I actively thought “oh that's not....”

[egophiliac]

don't think I'm not still obsessing over 7-12

[kyunniebuns]

Helloooo :3. I wanna know how Jin Woo deals with S/O who got bullied in high school because of her face and always feels insecure because of that. And also isolates and distances herself whenever people hurt her feelings. Requesting headcanons and one shot if u r free of course! :0

˗ˏˋ Entry : 061 - Sung Jinwoo x Bullied! Fem! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

[ BULLYING. Heavy depictions of depression, anxiety, body/face dysmorphia, avoidance of mirrors, idealization of self-harm/mutilation. I've been a victim of bullying so this is quite personal. Fluff Ending]

╰┈➤ ❝ [ When the flowers wilts first instead of blooming ] ¡! ❞

Pretty privilege.

Even if you're a child, you know it's a thing. Of course, you can't quite pinpoint why you're being treaed the way you are. But there is that weird inkling that something is going terribly wrong.

The boys in class often snicker at you, making fun of you for no reason in front of your oblivious face. You can tell there is some sort of mockery coming from them and that they treat other girls in class quite differently.

With the other girls, they are respectful and even trying to suck up with them? With you? They're actively snorting and getting off on making you miserably.

It's the little things they say that slowly degraded your poor mind over time.

"Your smile is weird"

"Your cheeks are too fat"

"Hey, can you quit laughing for a bit? You look ugly as hell hahah"

"It's the freak"

With the girls? Oh it gets worse.

They wont shut up about how your features are grotesque and even downright disgusting.

That's odd, you just wanted to be friends with everyone, yet here you are being the center of ridicule— Being pushed out of every single chance to make genuine connection just because they didn't like the way you look.

Well.. It isn't too bad.

There's a boy in class who befriended you. He listened to every story you have and he even laughs at the jokes you make even if you have picked them up from everybody else. If you mimic the popular kids, everyone will like you more right?...

Right?

However that same boy you thought was your friend had been secretly mocking you with his popular friends. He had been making fun of you no matter how kind and outgoing you were with him.

From then on? You started to slowly isolate yourself from everyone.

But somehow, the bullying only got worse.

It was to the point that everyone laughs at you during class and teasing you whenever you try to participate in class. They make wild noises whenever it's your turn to report.

Everyone, everyone just wont stop hurting you.

How about the adults? Surely they will help?

"... Just, try to ignore them, yeah?" — Was the reply the adults with give.

That's funny, shouldn't teachers be taking your side? You're the one who is being wronged here. You're the one who is getting the cruel end of these so called jokes.

Why is everyone making fun of you?

Even outside of the classroom and in the schoolbus— The kids younger and older than you are all a bunch of jerks who gaslight you everytime you try to be friendly with them.

One day, you decided to please everyone and sit on the floor because the pretty girls and the boys deserve it. The reward of your obedience?

Water gets poured on the top of your head and they all cackle in joy.

You went home soaking that day, sobbing miserably as your bag's contents are also drowning in water. Of course, your family confronted the school.

But the solution? Somehow eveything goes fucking downhill even more.

You're pushed out of all social circles. You're considered a goddamn freak.

And thus, the once bubbly and outgoing you had been stripped down to an anti-social and anxious loser that everyone despises. Anyone who comes across you would look at you with either pity or ridicule.

In the end? It doesn't matter anymore.

At some point, you completely gave up on trying to be friends with anyone and chose to keep to yourself. Maybe you had a few they all left overtime.

So you chose to just... Keep to yourself. What better is there to protect your already battered heart than to make sure nobody dares come close?

If being alone is what it takes to finally have the peace you've been longing for and can avoid all sense of harm— Then so be it.

Alone may you be, but at least you're happy.

꒰ .... ꒱

Meeting you is quite odd for Jinwoo so to speak. Of course, he is well aware of anti-social people who actively avoid any sort of interaction. Even small talk is considered a pure living nightmare to go through.

He tried being friendly with you and Jinwoo can tell no matter how polite and meek you are— You are actively trying to escape the conversation and find ways to shut it off.

Well, he could always leave you alone. But somehow he didn't want to. So even if you were uncomfortable, Jinwoo always attempted to be friends with you.

Slowly, he would notice the little things about you.

Such as your hair being grown in a way that obscures your little face, how you're dressed in thick clothes just to hide your body, how you're always choosing to stand alone in a corner where there is a least amount of students.

He knew of that fact that you're making yourself more and more invisible to everyone else by doing this. And he had an inkling something has gone terribly wrong for you to be this willing to isolate yourself.

Even when he managed to make you warm up to him, he knew you were desperate in making sure you don't offend him in any sort of way. He can see that way your demeanour would change if his tone shifts to a lazier and deeper sound out of nowhere.

You're studying his every movement.

Just like he is studying you.

꒰ .... ꒱

One day, he managed to convince you to come with him to go to the mall. Everything is currently boring and dull for him since there isn't much to do on the last week of the semester thanks to both of you handing everything on time. The only reason why school is still ongoing are for those students that are on the path of repeating the grade.

Everything was going well until you find yourself staring at your own reflection in a mirror.

How grotesque.

Those godforsaken awful cheeks you have, the shape of your eyes being so infuriating to look at, how pathetically built you are, how overall unappealing your appearance were.

If you could just run your cutters all of your fucking face maybe you'd be fixed.

This is why you hated mirrors so much.

They remind you of the disgustingly horrid image you have. Mirrors have a talent of showing the god awful being one is.

Because they don't lie.

These objects are made to reflect the person facing them. Despite being mouthless beings, you always had a feeling these fucking things are mocking you just for existing yourself.

Maybe you should scratch your cheek? That way you can shape them down even more—

"Don't look there." A soft, gentle deep voice calls out as a hand stretched out to block your line of sight towards the mirror.

When you look up, you are only met with a pair of kind grey orbs gazing at you as he says; "How about we go to the park instead?"

Jinwoo then moves his hand to grasp yours, squeezing it a little before guiding you out of the place.

꒰ .... ꒱

The walk in the empty park is silent and awkard, your footsteps being the only source of noise as you trail behind Jinwoo's tall and broad back.

"Sorry..." You say, lowering your head as you paused in your steps. "I ruined your shopping day."

"I was getting bored anyway, it's fine" He shrugs, waving his hand dismissively.

"Still," You purse your lips, feeling even more awful since you know Jinwoo is just being kind to you.

"You're always working hard to not make me mad, it wouldn't hurt to be a bit mean sometimes" Jinwoo reaches over to mess up your head.

"You... Are very aware of what I did before, yet you're still nice to me?"

Ah yes, that story, that story where you sent a kid limping in the hallways leaving a trail of blood from his bleeding nose. He finds it a little funny that you think you would scare him, the same bastard who put monarchs at their graves and sending god's army packing when they tried to pull another bullshit in his regression.

Still, it is awfully cute of you in his mind.

"I don't know what they did to you, or what they said that you're this anxious and afraid of ever offending me— But I only care about making you happy." He then becomes a bit flustered as he realized his own words. "W-well, I mean, hahah... That sounds so bad, I just,... Er... You're pretty cute when you smile so—"

Jinwoo stopped talking as he feels you suddenly throwing your arms around him.

"Hey..." He sighs, rubbing your back gently as he feels your tears soaking up his hoodie.

Being called cute by someone like him feels unreal, but somehow you can tell he isn't lying or just saying it to say something. Jinwoo for one has never lied to you, sure, he keeps things to himself most of the time. But he never lied.

So it's okay to trust him, right? it's okay to give him your heart even for just a little bit? With him, it feels like you;re healing a part of yourself that got broken overtime due to the bullying and isolation you had to put yourself through just so you can make sure no one can hurt you ever.

Jinwoo could only cradle you, sighing deeply as his rough fingers card through your strands affectionately. He should've reached out sooner.

Just from the raw, unfiltered and broken sobs that you are emitting— He can tell your cries are an amalgamation of sorrow, pain and loneliness that has long been brewing throughout the years of no solace.

"Joonwoo, Ae-yeong, Hajoon, Beom-shik, Eun-ae" He starts listing a bunch of names and ten other more.

Names familiar to you.

"Those are their names, right?" Jinwoo asks softly, receiving a soft nod from you.

He keeps your head firmly pressed against his shoulder as his face contorts that of pure malice. The undead soldiers hiding inside his shadows stir and whine a bit as they sense their master's temper coming to a close boiling point.

"I hope they enjoyed their sleep these past few days, a hellscape nightmares will be coming their way after all."

꒰ 🪼 A/N: I could've been more graphic but I chose to be merciful and choose this. There's more but ehnnn,,, I wanna play hollow knight immed rn<33. To everyone who is suffering from ptsd and body dysmorphia please know you are beautiful and perfect just the way you are. It'll take a long while to heal but you're not alone and never should be. Please surround yourself with happiness and cute things. ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[hivemuthur]

Hi! Thank you so much for your beautiful work!! I hope it’s okay to make a silly little request

So I’m in my 20s (late 20s I might add) but I’ve never ever even kissed anyone yet and I kinda really want to so… Would you consider writing modern au!Viktor with a virgin!f!reader? Something about a first kiss or maybe having sex for the first time or first relationship..? Anything first in general 👉👈

Anon, I am beating my chest that it took so long and hope that you will get a notification that it is published (I sometimes don't when I ask anon questions). I was a late bloomer myself and it has some massive advantages. Though I hope you get to kiss someone nice soon!

First Rites

viktorxfemale!virgin!reader mature, kissing and making out :)

author’s note: Nothing smart to say here, really, other than I will probably write a part two of this :') @rennethen beta read!

word count: 1,8K

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Your eyes sweep over Jayce’s tongue on Mel’s before you catch yourself staring. And even that doesn’t stop you. You analyse the movement of their hands, the way Jayce’s hips press into Mel’s, memorising all the smacking sounds they try to muffle into gentle giggles, hoping that you and Viktor are doing a decent job of not looking. When in reality, it’s the exact opposite.

It always goes the same way: the clack of heels echoing through the corridor outside the lab already has Jayce perking up. He grunts, clears his throat, and gets up slowly to avoid raised eyebrows and Viktor stating the obvious, like, “I guess this means you’re off for the day?”

Then, Jayce gives an apologetic smile and strolls toward the door, opening it before Mel can even knock. He exchanges a shy, stupid, cheek-reddened “Hi” for her sultry, thick “Hi yourself.” Their greetings die somewhere in their mouths when their lips meet in a first hello kiss. That one doesn’t last very long—soon, it shifts into an I missed you kiss. That lingers before melting into an I want you kiss or an I’d rather eat you than dinner kiss. And those are your favourites.

Even when you try very hard not to imagine what kind of kiss might follow that, you can’t help yourself. You end up blushed and flustered, your mind spinning with curiosity.

So you stare—impolitely, some might say—but for you, it’s research. You study and memorise, committing their courtship to memory so you can replay the scene later, your fingers wandering over your own lips as you imagine what it would be like. To have someone’s lips on yours, someone’s tongue in your mouth. It doesn’t sound all that appealing or hygienic, but it looks fantastic. It makes you feel a very much welcomed weirdness in your chest and belly, and having nothing else to supplement those feelings with, you just outright stare.

“It’s quite rude, if you ask me,” Viktor’s voice cuts through your thoughts just as Mel lets out a small, startled sound at Jayce’s hand cradling the back of her neck.

“Uh, I know. They should take it somewhere else, really,” you whisper back, but your tone is far from condemning. You say it absentmindedly, your eyes still glued to their mouths, chin propped on your hand, your scribbling abandoned the moment Jayce stood up.

“I meant your intense staring. But yes, such activities should be performed outside of work areas,” Viktor mumbles, not looking up from his notes.

Your blush deepens into an intense red hue as you finally look away and cover your face with your hand.

“Oh, I um… I didn’t mean to, it’s just—”

“All right, we’re off! Don’t work too hard while I’m gone!” Jayce’s beaming laughter cuts you off. Before you or Viktor can reply with a snarky comment, he sweeps Mel by the waist, and they disappear into the hallway. The sound of Mel’s giggle and the uneven click of her heels on the stone floors make you wonder if Jayce is kissing her neck or pressing her against a wall.

“It’s just?” Viktor insists, finally looking at you, his face forming an unamused expression.

“Nothing. It’s just nothing,” you respond quickly, picking up your pen with a shaky hand. You force yourself back to scribbling, even though your handwriting comes out ragged, suffering from both the excitement and the fear of Viktor’s prying eyes. But you do it anyway, desperate for any kind of shield.

“It does not look like nothing,” Viktor pushes, rotating in his chair to face you fully. You deepen your hunch, almost pressing your nose into the paper. How mortifying.

“I understand the concept of unrequited attraction, but you should really do yourself a favour and quit this self-flagellating practice of ogling every time Mel picks him up. It doesn’t lead to anything beneficial and impacts your focus,” Viktor drones, his nasal tone close to scolding.

You feel so scrutinised that you don’t even bother to correct his misunderstanding of your habit. You just sigh and continue your fake note taking.

“Trust me, I would know,” Viktor adds.

That catches your attention. How would he know anything about what you’re going through?

“Whatever do you mean by that?” you ask, keeping your face turned toward your notes, though your eyes wander to glance at him. He looks… unhappy? Mildly irritated? Annoyed at your lack of shame and focus?

“I am merely stating that lusting after someone out of reach is, at best, futile and, at worst, a path to ruin. For your own good, I would refrain from such practices,” Viktor says quietly.

You blink a few times as the words settle in your mind. He thinks I’m in love with Jayce? Lusting after him? It’s almost funny when you think that what you’ve been doing is in fact, just lusting.

“I can assure you, I am not attracted to Jayce. Or Mel, for that matter. I just—”

“Oh?” Viktor’s head snaps up so fast it surprises even him. He internally scolds himself for the involuntary reaction, but the undeniable punch of hope makes him lose control of his body for a moment. His pupils are wide, his brows lifted all the way to his forehead. “You’re not?”

“Uh, no,” you sigh, finally turning to face him properly. Your head dips as embarrassment weighs you down, but maybe admitting it will make it easier to carry. “I’m just… collecting research. For whenever I’ll have the opportunity. If ever. I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever—”

“What?” Viktor’s voice comes out too sharp. Shit. He scowls at himself—internally, of course—for how poorly he masked his shock. Way to be sensitive.

You wince, sinking deeper into yourself.

“Oh. Forgive me. I didn’t mean to… offend you,” he says carefully, trying not to sound too excited. His hand hovers over your knee while he calculates whether it would be proper to comfort you with a gentle touch. If you would like that. If you would like him to touch you.

But before he can decide, you turn back to your side of the desk, avoiding his gaze. “I’m not that easy to offend. It’s just not something I’m comfortable with. I’m a bit… too old for that, you know.”

And as if having a mild upper hand in this situation pumps Viktor with extra courage, he twists your chair back and rolls it close to his, until the sides of your thighs touch. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, then. I actually mean for the opposite of that,” he breathes and allows himself to glance over your lips, briefly. But you notice.

“Viktor?” you whisper, feeling an invisible force pulling you closer to his face. His arm extends over your legs, gripping the edge of your seat, and you feel the mild heat radiating off his body. You can smell his scent lingering in the space between you as you indulge in small glances at his eyes and lips.

“If you allow me, I could provide you with… some hands-on experience. Unless, of course, I am not—”

“Yes,” you answer quickly, and Viktor exhales into a relieved smile. He mumbles an “okay,” as if bracing himself, and closes the little distance left between you. His mouth presses against yours almost innocently as he takes your upper lip between his. His lips are soft and warm. It’s a long, lingering peck that has your eyes fluttering shut and a pool of heat blooming in your belly. You find yourself leaning into the kiss, your hips on the edge of the chair, to the point that your chests almost press against each other.

When he disconnects from you, it’s only to breathe against your mouth, “Is this alright?”

“Yes,” you say shakily, your lips brushing his. You open your eyes only to see a pretty pink blush splattered across his cheeks and ears. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth when he asks, “Would you like me to continue?”

“Please, continue,” you exhale, and something glints in Viktor’s eyes. Emboldened by your enthusiasm, he slides the hand gripping the stool to the back of your seat, pulling you closer until you can almost feel the flutter of his heart against yours as your chests meet. His other hand cradles the back of your neck, and oh, it’s the same gesture Jayce granted Mel that you’ve longed for so dearly, and you feel your skin prickling under Viktor’s touch.

His mouth is back on yours, this time the press is firmer, as he parts your lips with his tongue and—oh. Just oh, as your eyebrows knit together and the warmest of feelings floods your chest, making your hands jolt out to fist his vest, and you sigh the sweetest of sounds into his mouth. And he doesn’t stop there—the hand from the chair slides up your side, rests on your ribcage, fingers digging in when he—oh—also makes a sound. The hottest of sounds, a honey-dripping moan that makes you bite his lower lip, craving to eat him up with a long spoon.

And when he loses himself a bit—grunts and sighs into you, his hands wandering to rest at the base of your spine and cradle your cheek in a firm grip—you don’t even know how it happens, but you slide your hips to straddle his and press yourself down on him. To your delight, he has many more of those pretty sounds, some even forming something close to your name, making you melt into his arms.

When he pulls away, it’s only for an inch. “Oh, my,” Viktor mutters, rubbing his face against yours and kissing your neck. You like that too, but you already miss his hot tongue in your mouth. “A natural talent, I see,” he chuckles, and you blush even more at the thought of what he would say if he knew how much practice you’ve done on the crook of your fist alone in your room.

He looks up at you, all flustered and pretty, swiping his thumb across your glistening lip. He doesn’t know what’s come over him when he says, “If you wish to explore this further, I can offer my… expertise.” What he wants to say is that he’s been thinking about this too many times to count, leaving him flustered and pretty countless times before, but he doesn’t want to scare you away. So he just keeps looking at you expectantly, willing his mouth to shut.

“I would like that,” you mutter shyly, noticing how Viktor’s chest sags with relief. To think that he was there, willing and within your reach all this time makes you feel silly for all those times you stared at Jayce and Mel longingly. And you’re convinced you’ll continue to watch them—not with longing, but with anticipation for when they finally stroll off to their date, so you can sink your lips onto Viktor’s.

[darthmelyanna]

Oh, time for me to share the good news about university extension services! This is my new favorite search trick for anything textile-related. I add “university extension” to whatever I’m searching for.

In December I made myself a winter coat. For reasons passing understanding, I decided to do this with traditional tailoring methods, which meant 1) a lot of hand sewing, and 2) no fusible interfacing (the stuff that gives body and often more longevity to fabric). I am a very experienced seamstress. People pay me to do this kind of stuff. But using non-fusible interfacing on a project of this scale was new to me. I actually bought a whole book on jacket/coat construction but there were a lot of times when this otherwise excellent book (Claire Schaeffer’s Couture Tailoring) just did not have the answers I was looking for. Sewing blogs weren’t helping me much either because most people use fusible these days.

But then in the depths of Google I stumbled across a PDF scan of an old sewing pamphlet from a university extension service. University extension services are amazing sources of information on crafts and gardening and cooking and who knows what else. I think they started as a way for agriculture schools to serve the farming communities around them. They also developed programs to teach people things like how to safely can the food they were growing and how to sew a tailored jacket.

Some of them are still incredibly active on the sewing side of things. The University of Kentucky in particular has a very active group of volunteers who receive free training from experts in exchange for hours of service contributed to their communities. And that brings us to the PDF I stumbled across.

I had thought that a lot of sewing knowledge kind of went away with my grandmothers’ generations. Their daughters didn’t learn to sew, or if they did, they didn’t do it as much as my grandmothers did because they were working outside jobs along with raising families. You just don’t get to advanced techniques if you’re not sewing a lot. Books tend to focus on basic techniques because beginners are always a bigger market than advanced. A lot of bloggers did the same. You come across a lot of forum posts of people looking for techniques that existed but nobody knows how they were actually done.

But it turns out that there is an absolute treasure trove of information that was published by university extension services in the 1960s and 70s. Some of those extensions have been scanning and uploading them. The University of Kentucky and University of New Mexico were the ones I found most helpful during my coat-making madness. Absolutely everything I tried from an extension publication worked. I have a beautiful coat now, and an incredible search technique.

I hate knowing how to sew. I hate that knowing how to sew compels me to fix my own clothes when their shoddy construction destroys them cuz I don't wanna spend another fuckin thirty dollars to replace it when I have $1 of thread. Mending is the worst and it's 90% of the sewing I do these days.

[henneseyhoe]

Just One More | 💭

Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: Mentions Of Sexual Activity, Pregnancy, Dad!Lewis, Humor, Fluff

SUMMARY: Anotha one(a baby! yaaay!)

***A/N DISCLAIMER 💌- this is !!!NOT!!! apart of the official Just One More AU, i just thought it was a silly idea to write the fans reacting if he got you pregnant AGAIN 😭 dw, id never torture yall with five kids <333***

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Y/NUSERNAME

Liked by essence and 986,862 others

Back from 🇺🇸…with souvenirs🩷 lewishamilton

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USER1 WHAT??? OMG

❤︎ ʙʏ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ

USER2 again????

USER3 ARE YOU NOT TIRED???

USER4 I CALLED IT 😭😭😭

f1 Was itching for this announcement! See them in about 17 years maybe? 🫣🤭🍼

❤︎ ʙʏ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ

USER5 planning for a baby that isn’t here yet ain’t crazy??? 😭

USER6 F1 having a contract ready for a fetus was not on my 2025 bingo card?

❤︎ ʙʏ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ

USER7 (user6) how come? they did it for a few drivers racing now 😅😂

USER8 oh they get doooown 😭

USER9 LEWIS PLEASE GET OFF OF HER MY GOD

USER10 SERIOUSLY LIKE I PROMISE SHES NOT GOING NO WHERE LET HER GO 😭

USER11 this is why she takes so long to restock the website. too busy HUNCHING 😒

ynusername hunching?????? 😭😭😭

USER12 last time she was pregnant we didn’t get that tour…🥲

USER13 mind you this is the LAST time you sabotages us 😐🫵🏽 (lewishamilton)

USER14 Please tell me this is for a late halloween costume

ynusername yeah, i’m going as me when im pregnant 🙂

USER14 (ynusername) Y/N do not play with us right now..

lewishamilton legacy 💪🏾🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒💜💛

❤︎ ʙʏ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ

USER15 YOU ALREADY HAD A LEGACY. FOUR OF THEM. YOU ARE SO INCONSIDERATE!!!

USER16 this is the greed they talk about in the bible, Lewis…

❤︎ ʙʏ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ

USER17 Omggg another little Hamilton 🥹

❤︎ ʙʏ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ

YBFF ANSWER THE PHONE Y/N???? 😭

❤︎ ʙʏ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ

YBSF bye i should have known when you didn’t wanna hang 😪😫💛

❤︎ ʙʏ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ

USER18 No you should have known when she was out here dressing like big pun in them 7x ass clothes

ynusername (user18) Yooo 😭😭😭

USER19 You guys just finding out, meanwhile me and my husband saw her at the superbowl yesterday night. She even waved😅

❤︎ ʙʏ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ

ynusername Thanks for keeping a secret! 😘💚🦅

USER20 and you didn’t snitch??? better than me

USER21 (user20) It wasn’t my place 🤷🏻‍♂️

❤︎ ʙʏ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ

USER22 Lewis and Giannis going baby for baby this year

USER23 Lewis is winning I fear!

essence Mama Y/N takes no breaks! And neither does Lewis we see 👀🤭

❤︎ ʙʏ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ

ynusername Essence…🥴🤭

USER24 HOW GREEEEEDY 😭

USER25 Soooo is there going to be a restock for the merch or does this stop it—

❤︎ ʙʏ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ

ynusername catch the restock Tuesday! Pregnancy only stops one thing and that’s me from seeing my feet 😭🩷

gq We knew first 😜

❤︎ ʙʏ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ

ynusername 🤭

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“Your fans are plotting on ripping my head off, do you see what they’re saying on twitter?!”

Lewis exclaimed and turned his phone to you, scrolling down his new notifications. You shift under the beds sheets to look at the screen, squinting slightly to read. The replies were filled with shock, as you expected, and some jokes here and there, but mostly shock. You cackle, your plump belly bouncing with every laugh.

“I can’t do anything about that! I told you if you got me pregnant again, I’d hurt you, but it looks like they’re wanting to do my dirty work”

You took the phone from his hands and cuddled up to his side as he covers the both of you with the beds duvet.

He scoffs. “Don’t act like you didn’t ask for it” Tucking his head beneath yours, he bites your neck, making you tuck your chin with a giggle.

“Shut up! That was in the moment…plus, you asked me to say it”

He hums and shakes his head, remembering the night you two conceived completely different than you.

“Nah. I don’t remember asking you to say you wanted another one of my kids. Actually, I remember what you said word for word if you want me to recite it” He mischievously clears his throat, but your hand had already made it’s way over his mouth to shut him up before he even started.

“If you say anything and my babies hear, it’s gonna be me and you” You threatened, Lewis’s eyes crinkling at the sides as he smiles widely underneath your hand.

Suddenly you felt your palm being wet, your instinct being to move. “EW! YOU LICKED ME!”

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💌—another reminder that this is NOT APART OF THE ACTUAL AU!! it’s just something cute i wanted to write as a scenario.

[transmcytshowdown]

Joel Smallishbeans^4:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life, Empires SMP Season 1, Empires SMP Season 2

Headcanons: Transmasc, he/they; Trans man, he/him; Genderfluid, any pronouns; Trans masc, it/he/she; Transmasc Genderfluid, he/any; Identity not specified, they/he

Propaganda: “He’s just a silly little terracotta man with only a vague understanding of human gender he tries to impersonate but fails at.”

“Lizzie and Joel are a t4t bi4bi couple in [the submitter’s] heart. Lizzie transfem (she/her) Joel transmasc+gender fluid (he/any).”

“Basically anywhere you see him. Just like, the constant ‘Ooh i'm so manly, the manliest, I’m so tall and strong and handsome,’ and always insisting that he’s really tall despite being super short and the way his voice will sometimes get all high and squeaky these are all very transmasc coded things. He’s one of us, okay, he’s got the vibes, trust, he’s got our humor. Every time he goes mining on Hermitcraft there is always a caption that’s like ‘straight white male mining content’ which is more of his constant need to assert how macho and manly he is and in double life he says he’s not going to get in the pool cause he’s ‘ashamed of his Minecraft body’ which is very trans behavior. He’s got that confidence he can wear a dress for mcc and still know he’s a man which is very transmasc cause other men just got handed it, but we afab men have to look at masculinity and go ‘yeah that’s me’ and then make sure everyone knows it like that’s how you know being trans isn’t a choice because men kinda suck and I still went out and actively was like um guys I’m actually a man sorry. Some days he’s cool with just throwing gender norms out the window and some days he feels the need to yell for the whole world and the next couple galaxies as well to hear that he’s DeFiNiTeLy NoT WeArInG a CoRsEt GeM. Can you tell [the submitter’s] projecting? Cause [they’re] projecting. You can pry this headcanon out of [their] cold dead hands lol.”

“He has fluctuating chest dysphoria so sometimes he doesn't bind and sometimes he does. His bad dysphoria days are rare enough that he's not gonna bother with top surgery.”

“Transmasc Joel Smallishbeans is everything to [the submitter] and [the submitter] like[s] to think that forming the bad boys is what made him plug the tv back on and turn the brightness to the max, like he went ‘Oh we’re bad boys?? Guess I’m finally a boy now!”

“Nonbinary bad boy Joel except he is not a boy.”

"First, [the submitter] think[s] she was raised as a gender that just. doesn't exist here. She was raised in Mezalea where how gender works is just. different and, because she has a beard, everyone assumed she was a man but she's NOT and in recent years has been figuring out her own identity and pronouns in a way she hasn't ever thought about before and also she and Lizzie are butch4femme, amen. Or bi4bi. Both? She’s a masculine person and she likes stuff like the bad boys because it's more of a title separate from her gender. She’s just a masculine woman, amen.”

“He's a sopping wet tanooki (cat /j) and [jizzie] are t4t bi4bi coded.”

“Joel hasn't been called girlfriend/wife/girl by his friends for NOTHING. Bro’s the definition of gender and he slays in a dress no matter what (in Minecraft and in irl)."

Joel Smallishbeans^4:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life, Empires SMP Season 1, Empires SMP Season 2

Headcanons: Transmasc, he/they; Trans man, he/him; Genderfluid, any pronouns; Trans masc, it/he/she; Transmasc Genderfluid, he/any; Identity not specified, they/he

Propaganda: “He’s just a silly little terracotta man with only a vague understanding of human gender he tries to impersonate but fails at.”

“Lizzie and Joel are a t4t bi4bi couple in [the submitter’s] heart. Lizzie transfem (she/her) Joel transmasc+gender fluid (he/any).”

“Basically anywhere you see him. Just like, the constant ‘Ooh i'm so manly, the manliest, I’m so tall and strong and handsome,’ and always insisting that he’s really tall despite being super short and the way his voice will sometimes get all high and squeaky these are all very transmasc coded things. He’s one of us, okay, he’s got the vibes, trust, he’s got our humor. Every time he goes mining on Hermitcraft there is always a caption that’s like ‘straight white male mining content’ which is more of his constant need to assert how macho and manly he is and in double life he says he’s not going to get in the pool cause he’s ‘ashamed of his Minecraft body’ which is very trans behavior. He’s got that confidence he can wear a dress for mcc and still know he’s a man which is very transmasc cause other men just got handed it, but we afab men have to look at masculinity and go ‘yeah that’s me’ and then make sure everyone knows it like that’s how you know being trans isn’t a choice because men kinda suck and I still went out and actively was like um guys I’m actually a man sorry. Some days he’s cool with just throwing gender norms out the window and some days he feels the need to yell for the whole world and the next couple galaxies as well to hear that he’s DeFiNiTeLy NoT WeArInG a CoRsEt GeM. Can you tell [the submitter’s] projecting? Cause [they’re] projecting. You can pry this headcanon out of [their] cold dead hands lol.”

“He has fluctuating chest dysphoria so sometimes he doesn't bind and sometimes he does. His bad dysphoria days are rare enough that he's not gonna bother with top surgery.”

“Transmasc Joel Smallishbeans is everything to [the submitter] and [the submitter] like[s] to think that forming the bad boys is what made him plug the tv back on and turn the brightness to the max, like he went ‘Oh we’re bad boys?? Guess I’m finally a boy now!”

“Nonbinary bad boy Joel except he is not a boy.”

"First, [the submitter] think[s] she was raised as a gender that just. doesn't exist here. She was raised in Mezalea where how gender works is just. different and, because she has a beard, everyone assumed she was a man but she's NOT and in recent years has been figuring out her own identity and pronouns in a way she hasn't ever thought about before and also she and Lizzie are butch4femme, amen. Or bi4bi. Both? She’s a masculine person and she likes stuff like the bad boys because it's more of a title separate from her gender. She’s just a masculine woman, amen.”

“He's a sopping wet tanooki (cat /j) and [jizzie] are t4t bi4bi coded.”

“Joel hasn't been called girlfriend/wife/girl by his friends for NOTHING. Bro’s the definition of gender and he slays in a dress no matter what (in Minecraft and in irl)."

[i-am-countess-olivia]

This isn't some novel thought, but for me Fitzier begins in ep2, when Silna's father is brought onto Erebus

(a long-ish, GIF-heavy scene breakdown follows)

I won't cover the violations of Silna's beliefs, feelings and bodily autonomy which happen in these moments - they are of course terrible and very important. Instead, I want to focus on how the scene kicks off a new dynamic between Francis and James, how it lays a foundation for their subsequent closeness and how it changes our view of who James might be as a person.

Let’s begin.

Sir John and James arrive in the sick bay to join Stanley and Goodsir. Stanley says: "nope, not touching this one". Goodsir asks for leave to save the shaman's life. Franklin, already looking deeply disturbed by what's happening, hesitantly agrees.

Francis arrives. The operating table divides him from Franklin, Stanley and James — he is literally not on their side. All three men glare up at him as one: How is this maudlin MF going to make this horrible situation worse for us?

But while the three of them just stand there, Francis puts himself in charge. With a bit of help from McDonald, he takes hold of a distraught Silna and tries to explain what is happening, who they are, that they're not trying to do harm. It is in this moment that James becomes the only one on the opposite side of the table to step forward (to help Francis control the situation or at least to do something). He looks compelled to action but cannot act.

Okay... so here we see that maybe this guy isn't just Franklin's poodle (we saw a bit of that earlier in the episode - more on that later).

Meanwhile Franklin, as soon as Francis takes control, BUGGERS OFF. Of course this can be justified by him already having given his orders and no longer needing to be involved, but we know that a) he sneaks off when the situation is clearly fraught and Francis is clearly better suited to handle it, knowing Inuktitut among other things and b) he actually ends up hiding out in his cabin, freaking out while listening to the howls of the dying man. This is too strange, too awful for him. Not to mention: oh god, I'm stuck in the ice, I've just lost a lieutenant, I keep losing men, what are they going to think of me?

While Sir John is off having a lil meltdown.... James' eyes are firmly on Francis.

We don't even see him acknowledge his captain's departure.

But why is James there? The obvious answer is: to report back to Sir John, to make sure things don't get weird and that Francis doesn't do anything stupid on THEIR ship. After all, let's remember the last scene before this one where James is focused on Francis:

Here he was describing Francis as if he's got him pegged: he's a disappointed man, Sir John, he was no one's first choice etc etc.

I know what he is. Do you now, James?

(interesting framing the above scene, btw - James standing, active, Sir John focused on his creature comfort, the pipe, and questioning himself. James speaking in firm tones to his commander: "I will not allow..." — James is literally being reframed as a leader.)

Anyway, back to where we were.

While Goodsir sets about trying to remove the shot, we get a little glimpse of James: he looks frozen, uneasy, swaying in to stare at the wound (Oh Tobias, the actor that you are). Can we say flashbacks to the Chinese sniper? This must be seriously triggering for him. Something is shifting.

(Another aside: James is standing next to Stanley, the man who dug out the shot when he was hit by the sniper. That same man is now refusing to help. Hm.)

Next, Goodsir says: I can't save this man. Here something important happens: James and Francis share a look.

This is Francis, for the first time, acknowledging not just James still being in the bay at all — but that the two of them are in this moment together! Francis' eyes saying to James: I'm about to tell this woman her father is going to die and James acknowledging in return how awful that is. He presses his mouth, drops his eyes.

The little flash of connection doesn't last. When Silna starts to plead with her dying father, James once again reaches out across the table to Francis: what is she saying? But it's maybe too pushy, too "I need to be told what's going on" so Francis ignores him and it's McDonald who answers.

Next, Silna launches herself at her dying father. Here, once again, James tries to take an active role, to "help" by following Francis' cues on what to do.

James has been watching, learning, asking questions and now looks desperate to be part of the solution to this awful situation: to be in this with Francis. Look how similar their gestures are, how James looks to Francis for direction.

---

STOP - DOOM HAMMER TIME

The VERY first scene in which Francis and James become partners, take action together to keep something from happening, they effectively set in motion one of the biggest causes of their doom: Silna's father doesn't die as he should, Tuunbaq is not bound to anyone. Oh man. That's a whole other essay.

---

(Back to the scene....)

While they're wrestling with Silna, James, clearly emotional and upset by what is taking place, reaches out again, perhaps this time more sincerely: Look at me, Francis, I'm trying to help, at least tell me what's happening? This time Francis acknowledges him — actually SPEAKS to him for the first time.

In response, James looks particularly vulnerable and distraught.

Silna's father dies. We see how different James' reaction is to Francis'. Poor James. Maybe he wants a little bit more from Francis in that moment, one more shared look. Francis doesn't give it to him.

Aaaaaand here we are, it's almost over. Franklin swans in, the really bad, bloody stuff having already been dealt with. He re-asserts his command by giving an order to James to escort Silna off the ship. James… doesn't exactly spring into action. In fact, he doesn't even acknowledge the order verbally, unlike Stanley. What's going on in his head? What does he think about Francis in that moment?

Anyway, let's wrap up.

So much of this scene is about the shift in James’ perception of Francis. He suddenly sees a man who is hands-on, who can take charge, who doesn't walk away from a terrible and unusual situation, even when it's clear there's no good outcome. And of course he knows Sir John skipped off at first opportunity.

Francis, meanwhile, only briefly appears to acknowledge James —but only as far as we can see. Francis of course knows that James was there, that he stayed behind, that he tried to help, that he tried to understand.

This knowledge and this changed dynamic become apparent immediately, in the very next scene.

LOOK HOW THEY ARE FRAMED!!!

Sir John is already receding into the background. James and Francis sit — still opposite sides of a table but in essentially the same pose. They are partners, mirrors, leaning into each other. The few glances here, small as they are, are NOT at Sir John, but between James and Francis.

Anyway, here you go, that's me done. I fucking love this show.

[bubbleggum444]

—❝𐌋ITTLE MIƧƧ AC𝚃IVIST!❞

contents damian wayne x fem!reader, new hero!reader au, fluff + angst (n comfort), 3k+ wc. synopsis he knows all too well what it is like to feel like you don't fit it.

This felt so... wrong. Everything and everyone around ___ was just so frustrating, so difficult to deal with.

She had been an activist for as long as she could remember, fighting for what she believed in. But everything changed when she became a hero.

For better or worse? She wasn’t sure. No—oh great, Starfire just burned another tree down. Just perfect. Yeah, definitely worse.

Time and time again, this path hurt. It pulled at her, tore at her, like two different people were fighting for control inside her body.

One part of her—the old her—was someone who spent hours protesting, climbing trees to protect them, boycotting inhumane brands, and helping the vulnerable.

The other—the hero—was someone who saw, day in and day out, just how much destruction heroes left behind in their wake.

She knew her thoughts must have been tiring to others. Maybe even annoying. But she didn’t care. They weren’t her, and she wasn’t them. No one had the right to tell her how to feel about this.

Still, she could only bite her tongue for so long.

During a mission, Beast Boy casually tossed a used water bottle onto the street.

She hesitated, not wanting to sound like a nag. So instead, she simply picked it up, intending to throw it in a trash can.

Then she heard Garfield chuckle.

"Are you our new teammate or the trashman, newbie?"

Ouch.

Even the other Titans fell silent at the remark.

Her fingers clenched around the plastic, her vision burning. She didn’t dare look at any of them. She was too close to breaking.

So she walked away.

She hadn’t planned to. It was an impulsive decision, but that was who she was—rash, reactive. Always ready to act against injustice, even before becoming a hero.

She kept walking until she reached a park bench and collapsed onto it. The moment she was alone, the tears came. She hated this—hated feeling weak, hated that everything was finally catching up to her. The pressure of expectations, the weight of two halves of herself pulling in opposite directions.

It felt suffocating.

Like the disappointment she had seen in her parents’ eyes when she struggled to balance school and activism. The kind of disappointment that didn’t hurt physically but cut so much deeper.

A shiver ran down her spine as something cold wrapped around her from behind.

Whack!

On instinct, she swung back, landing a solid smack on whoever had just grabbed her.

"Damian?!" Her eyes widened.

"Oh my God, I’m so—"

"No, I deserved that," he admitted, rubbing his arm. "I came after you... I just didn’t know how to approach you."

Her chest tightened.

She hadn’t expected anyone to follow her. Least of all Damian.

She couldn’t stop the fresh wave of tears that spilled over, but this time, he was ready. He pulled her into another hug, and she let herself sink into it, gripping onto him like she might fall apart otherwise.

"There’s nothing wrong with being someone who picks up trash," she mumbled, voice still thick with emotion.

"That’s a decent, respectable job."

Damian huffed a small laugh.

"That’s not funny—"

"I know."

He tilted her chin up, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. His green eyes searched hers, steady and unreadable.

"I’ve noticed how much you’ve been pushing yourself, ___," he murmured.

"Stepping out of your comfort zone. Going against things you once believed in."

His hand brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary.She held his gaze, her breath catching.

"It’s admirable," he continued, voice softer now. "And... I understand more than you think."

She swallowed hard.

She barely knew Damian. Out of all the Titans, he was the most closed off.

Yet here he was. In a park. In the middle of the night. Holding her. Comforting her.

Was it always this warm at this time of year?

Her voice wavered slightly when she spoke. "Meaning...?"

He exhaled, thumb brushing over her cheek like he was afraid she might break.

"Meaning I’ve been where you are," he admitted. "I know what it’s like to feel like an outsider. To think that no matter what you do, you’ll never truly fit in."

His voice dipped lower, carrying something raw beneath it.

"And it hurt deeply. I rejected those who tried to help me because they were different, yet I embraced the pain from others simply because they were my familiars."

The air between them felt heavy—not with awkwardness, but with something deeper. It was as if their hearts had silently intertwined, speaking in a language beyond words. The weight of unspoken emotions filled the space between them, their rapid beats echoing a conversation only they could understand.

She felt it. The way her heartbeat stumbled, the way something in her chest tightened painfully.

And she could feel his too. Beating, racing—just like hers.

The silence between them was fragile, delicate, like the moment might shatter if either of them spoke.

With one arm dropping to his side, the other wraps itself around her shoulder in a gentle side hug.

"Let’s go get some dumplings," he murmured. "There’s a Chinatown nearby. The vendors stay open late."

Slowly, she let herself relax against him, nodding.

"Okay," she whispered. "Let’s get some pho."

As they walked along the cobblestone streets, ___ let out a quiet giggle.

His cheeks kind of look like dumplings…

She bit her lip to suppress her laughter, but Damian caught it anyway.

His gaze flickered toward her. "What’s so funny?"

She shook her head, smiling to herself.

"Nothing," she said softly. "I’m just really excited for the food."

Damian narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. But he let it go, walking just a little closer to her as they made their way down the dimly lit street.

And for the first time in a long time, ___ felt like maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t so alone after all.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

© — ggυɱi '25

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated

ദ്ദി ≽^⎚˕⎚^≼ .ᐟ

alsooo BB would NEVA be like this. I just needed a "bag guy" for the story :)👌🏻

[hemlock-dreams]

I saw you say you don't take requests for characters that aren't regular buddies with Spidey and one was Moon Knight but I am kinda curious non-art request wise what the dynamic between them would be to you in this AU?? Big fan of Moon Knight and I love seeing this AU cross my dash and thought I'd ask <3 (also what's your fave dynamic to play with in this AU outside of Peter and Wade?)

So, my knowledge of Marvel Superheroes is limited to whoever exists in their animated stuff and the Main Avengers MCU Movie-verse. I'm also not really that big of a comic book person.

What I'm getting at here, is that some of the reason I don't do the asks is because I literally know nothing about most of the Marvel pantheon.

So, unfortunately, beyond knowing that Moon Knight exists (my exposure to him is limited to like...one trailer)...I've got nothing lol. And the last thing I wanna do is disrespect the character.

And outside of Spidey and Pool, I've been enjoying doing Wade and Weasel! I guess the biggest issue is that because the Hunting!Verse story is so insular, I don't really think about anyone unless they're actively affecting the main dynamic. I can't tell you how many asks I've gotten that made me go "Oh yeah, this guy exists." and they happen to be important in Spidey's backstory so now I gotta go back and figure out what the hell they were doing when everything is going down.

[damnfeelings09]

VALENTINE'S DAY COUNTDOWN

First date - Shadow the Hedghog

Pairing: Shadow the hedghog x female reader Tags: fluff, comfort, awkward crush. Word count: 750. Prompt: you and Shadow have been friends for a while, and although he has a massive crush on you and is dying to have you as more than a friend he's not willing to take that step (secretly he's very insecure okay) after a little encouragement from Sonic he asked you out he never imagined how it would end. Notes: First valentine's day prompt and what better way to start it than with my eternal love Shadow. I'm love/romance depraved so these promts will be fluff in its cheesiest and purest form (like melting chocolate in a super sweet cotton candy ice cream with a Cherry on top kind of sickeningly sweet) This time I'll try a different style so let me know if you like it.

Shadow wasn't afraid of anything. He was the ultimate lifeform after all, then… why did his pulse quicken every time he was near you? Why did he feel his palms get wet each time you smiled at him? Why did his fight or flight response activated every time you were there?

Shadow wasn't afraid of anything. But maybe, maybe he was afraid of what he felt for you, afraid that he would become addicted to the feeling of you caressing his cheek, afraid that he couldn't go on without seeing the sparkle in your eyes every day, afraid of getting used to the warmth of your hand on his, afraid that if he said a word of what he felt he would lose you, because let's be honest, who could love a monster like him?

He was unsure, and every time that happened he went to Rouge, however the bat was not at home, so he went to his second best worst option. Sonic

Sonic with his usual cocky grin as Shadow explained the situation. Sonic, the same Sonic that he punched every chance he got just to release some stress and because he enjoyed it, the same Sonic that screwed up time and time again running away from Amy was the one that Shadow had decided to approach for romantic advice.

“Just don't think too much about it Shads” Sonic had said ”She likes you, trust me”

“Easier said than done”

“Well, it's either that or you'll be stuck with ' what could’ve been' forever.”

Honestly, Sonic hadn't been much help, but at least he had planted the seed of doubt in Shadow. What would be the worst that could happen if he kept his feelings to himself? You would probably find someone, that someone would take your hand, receive your caresses, taste your lips and you would forget about him, leaving him aside, alone, unloved.

No. Shadow wouldn't let that happen, the little bit of love he got from you was too addictive and he wasn't about to let anyone else have it. He had made up his mind and although the chances of you feeling the same were low they still weren't 0. He still had no idea how he managed to do it, well maybe he had a little idea. He knew he had walked you home, he knew he had said a few embarrassing things as you walked together making you laugh, what he didn't know was where he had gotten the courage to ask you out when you were about to enter your house.

“See you tomorrow Shadow,” you said waving goodbye to him.

“Wait” he said almost in a whisper. You turned, shaking your head to the side “I... ah...” he scratched his head.

“Is everything okay?”

“I wanted to... I wanted to ask you out.”

“Sure! You know I love going out with you Shadow”

“As... in a date”

“Oh...” oh? What did that mean, it wasn't the yes he was expecting but it wasn't a denial either, it was as if he had surprised you, as if you didn't imagine he could have feelings for-

“I'd love to” you cut off his thought bringing him back to earth. The smile on your face showed shyness but the pink blush on your cheeks and the loud thumping of your heart confirmed to Shadow that his feelings were reciprocated. “I... I'd like you for a while, just didn't know of you might... like me too” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear meeting your gaze with Shadow's causing him to blush. If this were a cartoon his eyes would have turned into hearts and little blue birds would fly around his head.

“I've been feeling like this for a while too, just...”

“It’s okay” you smiled “I'll see you tomorrow for our date” you walked up to him and deposited a kiss on his cheek, waving your fingers in a goodbye motion and closing the door behind you. Little did he know that you slid down the door frame, hand on your heart triyng to stop the rush in your body.

Shadow stood outside your door, his hand holding the very spot where your lips had touched his cheek trying to capture the warmth of your touch, his stomach felt funny as if something was churning inside him just remembering your kiss. It was then that he realized that maybe allowing himself to be happy wasn't such a bad thing.

[seellove]

Hearts Like Ours // sukuna x female reader - Valentine's Day Edition!

Masterlist

// (3.9k words) // Explicit - 18+

\|/ AO3

You're going through a rough patch with your husband and having to work late on Valentine's Day causes you to have to cancel all the plans he's made for the evening. While you feel guilty, Sukuna adjusts to make the most of the evening by pampering you and making you feel incredibly loved, which is very much needed after the last month.

Content Tags/Warnings Throughout Work: Reader and Sukuna are humans in a modern AU, husband Sukuna, established relationship, fluff, sex toys, explicit smut

AN: Hope you all enjoy reading about some Valentine's Day activities with husband Sukuna! Also getting stoned apparently results in me writing Sukuna one shots lmao.

“Let’s go ahead and make today the date we put on the submittal package, does that answer your question?” you say to the younger employee, ready to head back to your office after answering their questions.

They nod in response and thank you. During your final quality control check of the submittal, you had found a glaring error that needed fixing, thus resulting in this late night with the team you manage. You’d bought everyone dinner as an apology for needing to work late, but there truly was nothing that could make working late on a Friday night any better. 

When you sit back down in your chair, you pull your phone out.

7:15 PM. 

Fifteen minutes past the dinner reservation you had to flake out on because of needing to work late. A reservation that your husband, Sukuna, had made months in advance at the most exclusive restaurant in the city for your Valentine's Day date. Oh and the fancy hotel suite he’d booked for after, you had to cancel on that too.

You tear up at the thought as a wave of guilt floods over you combined with the stress of work. You and your husband desperately needed a date night or something of the sort to reconnect. As two upper level executives in your respective firms, work has been chaotic since the new year, leaving you hardly any quality time together. 

If you were lucky, one of you would slip into bed before the other fell asleep so you could at least talk to each other for a few moments. Even those minimal exchanges didn’t have much substance as normally you both were drained from the long day, struggling to hold a conversation after being in meetings and directing people for over twelve hours straight. 

Sukuna was always very understanding on the nights you didn’t feel like talking. He would hold out his muscular arm as an invitation for you to rest your head on his toned chest and hold you close, planting soft kisses on your forehead as you melted into his embrace. 

“I love you,” he’d whisper, turning off the lamp and holding you until sleep quickly overtakes you. 

Even though there were few meaningful interactions lately, you felt his love in other ways: how he tries to wait up for you even though some nights he falls asleep on the couch with the light on, sending food to your office when you are working late, waking up early to make you breakfast, waiting patiently to watch your favorite shows so you were caught up together, among numerous other little things that you can’t possibly remember.

Even if you can’t remember all of his actions, you remember how they make you feel and that means everything. You still feel loved, appreciated, understood, and cared for and those underlying feelings help get you by on nights like this. 

After another hour, you and your team finally pull together the revised submittal and you fire it off to the client. Walking out to your car, you realize your feet are killing you and your neck and shoulders feel extremely tense from the stress lately. You hope this is the last late night for a while.

It’s well after 8:30 by the time you park in your building’s garage. The long elevator ride to the penthouse floor seems to last an eternity as all you want to do is flop down and get these heels off. 

The elevator door opens and you are surprised to see Sukuna right there. 

“Oh, hey there,” you greet him with a small smile. He’s in his sweatpants and a faded t-shirt, something you can’t wait to join him in.

“Hi baby, here lemme get those for you,” he reaches for your bags, which you shrug off quickly, relieved to be shedding the extra weight. But that’s just like your husband, shouldering the extra burden when life gets the best of you. 

He doesn’t stop there though, picking you up, cradling you against his hard chest, and carrying you the rest of the way to your penthouse door. He smells so good, his familiar cologne enveloping your senses, reminding you that you are indeed home and you can relax.

He unlocks the door and brings you immediately to the bedroom, setting you on the bed where you can hear the water in your en-suite bathroom running. 

You realize he’s started running a bath in your large jacuzzi tub and you almost collapse with relief at the idea of soaking your defeated body in the hot water.

He reappears after putting your bags up, kneeling at your feet to take your heels off of you. His large hands rub your legs after getting them off, planting a kiss on each before getting up and bringing your shoes to your closet.

“Sukuna I’m sorry I ruined our Valentine’s Day,” you finally blurt out, feeling extremely guilty as a result of seeing him going above and beyond right now.

“Who said it was ruined?” he clicks his tongue, sitting down next to you on the bed and pulling you against him.

“It’s just I know you had that nice dinner planned and the presidential suite at the St Regis downtown booked, and because of me you had to cancel it all,” you choke back the tears that are starting to spill over.

He pulls you gently into his lap, hands cupping your cheeks and thumbs swiping below your eyes to catch your tears.

“Baby it’s just dinner and a hotel. They’ll always be there, they aren’t going anywhere. All I want is to spend time with you, whether that be here or some fancy ass hotel. You gotta admit though, our penthouse is pretty fancy on its own,” he chuckles which causes you to snort in response. 

“I just want you to be comfortable, relax, and unwind. Now come on, I’ve got a nice night planned for us right here,” he picks you up again and drops you off on the bench next to the tub. 

You notice the tub has a slight pink hue to it with bubbles and rose petals in the water along with white candles along the edge. A bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice with two nice glasses sits next to the tub, completing the enticing scene.

“You did all this on such short notice?” you stare at the display and then back at him, the tears threatening to spill over again. Sometimes you just don’t feel like you deserve this man. 

“Of course, anything for the love of my life. Now get in there and lemme just take care of you,” he says as he sheds his shirt, revealing his toned body with those sinful tattoos snaking their way down his chest and back. 

He helps you out of your work clothes until you both are naked in front of each other. You don’t miss Sukuna’s eyes roving over your body as he helps you into the tub before settling in on the opposite side of you.

“Gimme your foot,” he says softly, propping it up on his knee in front of him. The chill air hits your wet skin but that soon dissolves as he starts massaging your sore foot pads, his skillful fingers working themselves into all the places that need attention.

“Oh fuck that feels so good,” you hiss, letting yourself sink further into the water. 

“Good, I’ll get your back and shoulders next,” he says warmly. 

You can’t help but steal a peek at the way his muscles flex as he massages your legs and feet. It’s been a minute since you really looked at him, since you really studied the peaks and valleys of his shredded physique. You almost take it for granted after being together for so long. It had been one of the first things you noticed about him when you first met at his fraternity beach week back in college. 

You’d gone with your friend Gojo and saw him for the first time out on the beach while you were mingling with your friends. You’d been mesmerized by the way his tattoos rippled over his tan skin while he threw a football with the other guys, his wild pink hair hidden by a backwards hat and a beer in his hand. 

His sunglasses had hidden his eyes from you, but later he confessed that he was watching you at the same time, your hair blowing in the breeze and your cute smile tearing him up inside while laughing with your friends. 

That night he had finally built up the nerve to talk to you (with the help of some liquid courage) which turned into a nighttime walk on the beach and snuggling up on a blanket beneath the stars, talking together until early the next morning. He’d kissed you that night and even though you wanted to go further, you weren’t interested in potentially getting caught in public.

You didn’t have to wait long though because the next day while everyone was back out on the beach, you and him were a mess of limbs beneath the sheets of your hotel room for almost half the day and then again that night. 

That was almost eight years ago and even though time has passed and a lot of life has happened, you still love him to pieces and in your eyes he’s the perfect husband and partner. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” Sukuna asks, his crimson eyes peering over at you, interrupting your thoughts.

“Mmm, just admiring your muscles, and it made me think about when we first met where I was doing the same thing,” you giggle. 

“Ha, it was meant to be wasn’t it,” he chuckles, planting a kiss on your heel and dropping it back into the water.

He pours out the champagne and clinks his glass to yours.

“Cheers to us checking each other out all that time ago. Had no idea it would lead us here, but god I’m so glad it did. Happy Valentine’s Day babe,” he leans in and kisses you. 

As he starts to pull away, you grip the back of his head, holding him in place, forcing your tongue into his mouth. The sweet taste of champagne mixes between you as you slowly roll your tongues against each other with practiced ease, your silhouettes becoming one in the flickering candlelight.

“I love you so much,” you whisper as your lips break away, his forehead pressed against yours.

“I love you more.”. 

“Come lean against me,” he gestures as he leans back against the tub side. You get settled, his knees caging you in on either side, scooting forward a little so he can start working his fingers along your neck and shoulders.

The combination of the hot water and his firm fingers has all the tension and stiffness from the last few weeks disintegrating and morphing into a tingly sensation that makes your skin heat up. As you move back to press your back against his torso, you feel him hard against you, amplifying the tingling feeling that shoots to your core.

“Mm fuuuck,” he groans at the pressure, his forehead falling forward to rest on the back of your head. He starts to trail soft kisses from your ear down your neck and across the back of your shoulder which has you moaning his name. 

“Kuna, that feels so good,” you sigh as you feel your core and stomach start to heat up. His hands start to wrap around you to fondle your chest, rolling your nipples between his fingers, causing you to fall backwards in delight into his pecs.

“Can’t forget these other spots,” his husky voice is in your ear, breath hot on your skin. His hands are all over you now, dipping below the water to squeeze your hips and thighs before coming back up to stroke your breasts again. 

“Vibrator or my fingers?” he rasps and it has you clenching around nothing in anticipation. 

“Oh shit. Vibrator, want you to keep touching my tits,” you can hardly speak.

He reaches over and grabs the rubber vibrator off the tub edge, turning it on and submerging it. You take it from him and get it positioned how you want it. As soon as it makes contact with your clit, your whole body jerks, causing his cock to throb behind you.

His hands go back to your tits, squeezing and rolling your nipples while you squirm from the stimulation on your clit. Everything feels soooo good, it’s been awhile since you’d been intimate like this, usually both of you are too tired to do anything. All you can do is lean back against him and take it all, unable to form a coherent thought at this point.

The thrumming of the vibrator against you sends waves of pleasure through your body, making your thighs tremble as the coil of desire begins to tighten with the mounting feeling. 

Your breaths get heavier, chest heaving causing the water in the tub to move in small waves from the disturbance. You can feel Sukuna’s heart pounding against the back of your head and him starting to rut his cock against your lower back. 

His fingers dig into your breasts as you both get more and more turned on. You click the vibrator up one setting, putting even more pressure on your clit. Your core is burning with hot waves of pleasure, on the precipice of an earth shattering orgasm.

“I’m close, kiss my neck,” you gasp. Sukuna quickly obeys, nipping and sucking at the spot under your ear he knows is your weak spot.

“Oh fuck! oh fuuuuck, Sukuna!” you cry out as you feel the orgasm start to tear through you, your pussy clenching around nothing as you convulse against Sukuna’s rock hard body. 

You are in complete bliss, eyes closed and resting your whole body weight against Sukuna. His cock throbs again as you start to come down from your high and the water starts to still.

Finally you come back to your senses, turning around to face him. You’re met with his trademark grin and blown out crimson eyes. He’s probably dying to do more, and quite frankly so are you. 

You reach down between you two and grab his hard cock, slowly pumping his shaft. Sukuna gasps, thrusting into your hand, causing the tub water to splash again with his movements. 

“Let’s get out,” he rasps, standing up with no regard for the water overflowing the tub. The man is on a mission and pulls you out with him. You both towel dry off and next thing you know he has you pinned against the cold tile wall, legs wrapped around his hips as he slides his cock through your folds and across your clit, slicking himself up.

“Ready?” his husky voice pants into your neck as he ruts himself harder against you. 

“Yes, please, I need you Kuna,” you whine as his hard cock rolls against your clit again.

That’s all he needs to hear as he lines his tip up to prod at your entrance. With one sharp thrust, he pushes into you, stretching out your walls as he pauses to let you adjust. You can’t really remember the last time you had sex but it’s like muscle memory at this point as your body adjusts.

“Fuuuuuuck, feel s’good,” he groans as he stares down where you are both connected. 

You bite your lip with the painful stretch, Sukuna watching you carefully as he gives you shallow strokes to help work you open. He stops when you squirm from the discomfort as he starts sinking deeper.

“Sorry, having a harder time than normal I guess,” you utter.

“It’s fine, I know you can take it. You’re my sexy ass wife, the only one who can take all this,” he says in a deep voice, continuing his slow thrusts. 

He finally bottoms out, letting out a guttural groan, his forehead falling forward against yours. His mouth is partially open as he tries to slow his breaths. 

“God I’ve missed this, so fuckin tight, taking me so well, my perfect girl,” he whispers in your ear as his thrusts pick up. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he probes for your sweet spot, adjusting his angle and depth slightly with each snap of his hips.

His pelvis slaps against yours as each punishing thrust pushes you harder into the wall, the cold tile rigid against your shoulder blades. 

“Can we get in the bed? It’s kinda uncomfortable,” you tap his shoulder. He’s knocking the wind out of you in this position and the hard tile is digging into your skin.

“Of course.”

He slows his movements, giving you a few more hard, deep thrusts before turning you around and walking back into the bedroom. He carefully lowers you both to the bed, keeping your bodies connected the entire time.

He pulls your legs over his shoulders and sinks even deeper into you, making you whine at the sudden pressure against your cervix. 

“This is much better anyways. Can see and feel so much more of you,” he growls in your ear as he sets another grueling pace. The softness of the bed is a welcome reprieve from the hard wall as he drills you into the mattress.

Your hands rake through his hair, moaning loudly as he quickly finds your sweet spot. There’s very few positions where he can’t hit your favorite spots. After all this time and god knows how many fucks, he’s an expert when it comes to your body, rarely leaving you unsatisfied.

“Right there Kuna, fucking right there, don’t stop,” you cry out, your pussy clenching around his cock as you start to careen toward your release. 

“God fucking come for me baby,” he pants against your neck, folding you up under him as he pushes your knees into your chest. 

A few more perfect strokes and you’re falling apart under him, your vision going white from the mind blowing pleasure coursing through your body. Your back attempts to arch against his large frame, nails digging into his shoulders as the orgasm rips through you. 

“Thats it baby, fuckin’ cum all over my cock,” Sukuna looks down on you with a smug grin, so proud of his work as he fucks you through your climax. 

He flips you onto your stomach and slides into you prone bone, giving you no time to react before railing you from behind. Your orgasm has barely subsided and now he’s drilling your sweet spot again, turning you into a drooling whining mess. 

His massive body leans over you, fingers entwined with yours and digging into the sheets as his punishing thrusts echo across the room from the hard slaps and the wet sounds of his cock ruining your pussy. 

“Love you so fuckin’ much,” he rasps in your ear, nibbling and sucking at your earlobe, driving you absolutely mad as you just surrender to the mind blowing feeling. 

“Lo-love you too,” you barely get out, jaw clenching as you feel another mind bending orgasm about to rip through you again.

He flips you onto your back, causing you to gasp in surprise as he goes back to the perfect pace from moments ago.

“Wanna see you, see your face when you cum…and when I cum, I’m so fuckin’ close,” he says through heaving breaths. 

The telltale sign of you clenching around his thick cock has Sukuna doubling down, not changing his angle or pace, knowing your release is close. 

“Look at me,” he demands. You do everything in your power to meet his gaze, which you are surprised to see is soft and loving now, the cocky smirk gone. 

Meeting your eyes is his catalyst because it's only one more deep thrust before he’s spilling himself inside of you while you milk him for everything he has. You quickly follow him over the edge as your bodies mold against each other, cumming together perfectly. 

Sukuna’s large body collapses onto yours, cock pulsing inside of you as he pumps his thick load deep inside of you, coating your cervix and walls with his hot seed. 

You both lay in your respective delirious states, coming down from the high together, heartbeats slowing and breaths syncing. You slowly scratch his head and work your way down to his upper back, earning a small whimper from the beast of a man sprawled out on top of you.

“Oh my godddd I love you,” he groans as he lifts himself up, pulling out of you. He rolls to the side and promptly pulls you onto his thick chest. 

“I love you too Kuna. Thank you for all that,” you giggle, basking in the afterglow of your love making. 

“Likewise,” he peppers kisses all over your face, earning a squeal from you. 

“See, I don’t consider this a ruined Valentine’s Day,” Sukuna grins as he stops his kiss assault, “I feel like this was a pretty damn good one actually.” 

“I agree, it was perfect,” you respond with sincerity. 

And you mean it. You’ve never felt safer and more secure in your relationship. The both of you are patient and loving, not letting the isolated rough patches and dry spells impact the strong foundation you’ve built after all these years. Both of you always find your way back to each other, letting the underlying bond guide you home, never letting the chaos of life win out. 

“Have one more gift for you,” his deep voice breaks the silence. 

“Sukuna this is all just too much,” you sigh, rolling off of him so he can get up.

He returns with his phone from the other room, sliding back in beside you.

“Hush, it’s a joint gift, you’ll like it,” he chuckles, pulling you tightly against him while he navigates to his email.

Then you see it, 7 nights at the Four Seasons Bora Bora. Your heart leaps in your chest.

“Oh my god!! Baby that’s amazing,” you exclaim with excitement. 

“Now there’s no way for anything to interrupt us, just you, me, and that gorgeous overwater bungalow in which I’m going to fuck you on every surface,” he grins, earning a playful gasp from you.

“When do we leave?” 

“First Saturday in March, so a few weeks from now. Get that time off request in my love,” he grins before diving back in to give you a sweet kiss. 

“You’re seriously the best, I really don’t deserve you sometimes,” you say softly, overcome with the emotion of everything he’s done for you while you had nothing to give in return. 

“My love, you are the most deserving and don’t ever think otherwise. As if I’d let a rough month or a tough few weeks upend all the years we’ve spent together. It will be but a blip in our hopefully long lives, god willing. I took those vows to heart when I said them, especially in good times and in bad, and I intend to uphold them until I’m dead and gone.”

All you can do is dive into his arms, both of you capturing the other in a tight hug. 

“I love you,” you say as you pull back and stare into his eyes.

He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“I love you too. Always.” 

Masterlist

[thydungeongal]

Oh man, the end of your response to your last ask (people confusing "active" and "passive" queering of a game due to how it works in other media) made me think, what would a TTRPG even do to try to actively prevent queer elements mechanically? Not a thought experiment I think either of us want to spend time on, but could you imagine?

To be fair I would not be surprised if this already existed in some way. The white supremacist RPG Racial Holy War already pretty much mandates that the player characters need to be white, I wouldn't be surprised if there was a "no homos" sidebar there as well. So like it probably exists in some form already, just not in games that one would bring up in polite company (other than as cautionary tales).

[theyluvpeach]

chasing you.

you avoid him. he catches you. dealer!reader x client!chris blurb <3

He's starting to think he's the problem. Those are words Chris never thought would form in his brain—But here he is, trying to figure out why hasn't seen you all week.

It doesn't make any sense. You're always around campus, yet when he's actively looking for you, you're nowhere to be seen. Chris doesn't even want to talk to you. He just wants to give you your shit back so Matt will stop bothering him about it.

Even though he's your friend—And he was the one to even invite you to the party in the first place—He has to return your heels cause apparently, Matt has better shit to do then chase you around all day.

He's been all around campus looking for you. If you're not at the campus cafe, he's gonna launch your heels at Matt's head.

Matt is so lucky you're here.

You're in the corner at a booth with tons of books and your computer in front of you. You're not your usual neon colored self. There's no star clips in your hair. You don't have on an overly tight top. No flared jeans. You're unrecognizable.

He can see the fear settle in your eyes as he walks up to you. So, you were avoiding him.

"Chris." The tension in your voice is quite frankly, insane. That night, after leaving you in his room, all he did was talk to Matt about what to do with you and then passed out on the couch after the party was over. What could he have done in that time?

"Kid, I know you were shitfaced last week, but I can't believe you forgot all about your stuff." You blink at him multiple times. "What?"

He shoves your heels and tights that are stuffed in them to you, "Y'know? All this?"

You slowly take them, your face lighting up. "Oh... Oh!"

"Huh?" He's confused. You were all gloomy just a second ago, and now you look like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Mh....I thought we fucked, if I'm being completely honest." He watches you tuck your heels away into your bag. "This reminded me we didn't, thanks."

Chris, for once in his life, is speechless. You were avoiding him because you thought you guys fucked. Honestly, he'll take this over you being all over Aiden. He wonders if you remember that... he's not gonna bring it up.

Huh. This is probably how the girls he sleeps with feel after they wake up alone in the morning.

"Nah, I don' fuck my brothers friends." You tilt your head at him, annoyingly, and raise your eyebrow. "Michelle."

"Doesn't count."

"Brittany."

"Also doesn't count."

"Vivi—"

"You friends with all the girls I fuck or somethin'?" You laugh, loudly. Bringing attention to yourself, but you don't care. You're definitely back to your usual self. "Some of them. They're wondering why I'm hanging around Mr. Community Dick."

Chris rolls his eyes. "Matt deserves that title."

"Eh, you guys are tied." You smile at him. And he gets that feeling in his chest again. The one that makes him feel like he's dying. When you start looking at him like he's crazy makes him remember that you guys are having a conversation and process that's he's staring at you.

He awkwardly coughs. "Whatcha' got all these books for anyway?" You groan, resting your forehead on the table. "Ecology."

He blinks.

"Plants." You sit up, resting your head in your hands, "Its the study of how living organisms interact with their physical environment—"

"We get it. You're smart. Trust."

"Well—" You flush at the compliment. Maybe not pissing you off gets him places. "That's just the definition!"

He eyes the stacks of books at your table. "You got a test, or are you just a nerd?"

You scoff. "I'm not a nerd. We have a test, and since my teacher writes questions like she hasn't talked to a human being in years, I'm doing some light reading."

"Light reading?" He teases. "Whatever." He checks his phone as you roll your eyes, well shit.

He spent way more time talking to you than he thought he would. He's gonna be late to the class he promised Nate he'd go to for the first time in forever.

"Gotta go," He says, beginning to walk backward towards the exit, "Don't drink so much next time, alright, kid? Not tryna chase you around again."

"I would've remembered eventually!"

tags 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚: @inspiredangel @whore4mattsturniolo @domizzzsstuff @sosasturns @drewswife

[rad4learning]

Women generally have a smaller comfort zone. More passivity -> more anxiety / less practice at discomfort tolerance -> more passivity. We see this manifest in a lot of ways* but I think dating is a particularly good example. Women might benefit from a more active / explicit role however it is not comfortable to open yourself up to risk of rejection.

I personally found it great to have the experience of being rejected and then I had less overwrought himpathy for guys who had been like “oh no being rejected is so awful”. Like, I wasn’t instantly dancing with glee but overall it was a good experience to have. The barrier wasn’t it not being better for me to have that experience - it was pushing past anxious discomfort.

Btw, net win on the anxiety because getting an answer is freeing from obsessing wondering but feeling powerless.

Often in society we see women presented with a comfort vs power tradeoff - the woman who chooses to not pursue employment and rely on a male partner, the woman who values emotional comfort prioritising approval over autonomous action etc.

It does not mean they have no autonomy or influence but I do think there is a clear pattern of reduced agency with comfort as the implied reward (may not always actually be delivered, of course) for women in comparison to men.

*The infant crawling experiment where girls were discouraged from slopes the participants thought male babies could handle being a clear example of how girls are discouraged from risk taking and encouraged to be more passive.

I looked at this thread

and it's another signal from the world of something like "sociosexual realism". Which is like, feminism or whatever told us that men and women were equally agentic, but unfortunately it was lying, and actually it's men's responsibility to be seductive, and if they fail at that then TFR goes down and the Amish win.

It's not just the thread, a lot of relationships and dates make me feel this way.

I'm stuck believing this unpleasant belief. What am I missing? Is the world not like that?

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Twenty Six - Feelings

Part Twenty Five

———

Pilots seem to come from all walks of life, it really depends on how or who recruited them. As the death tolls rose, they started scouring the Earth for compatibility in every place that was reachable by both government agency and private industry. 

Compatibility testing is not standardized across the planet, across agencies, or private companies. 

Those first few years a significant portion of pilots were underage, found more compatible than older people, the youngest pilot back in the start of the program was registered at thirteen years old. After years of regulation, it was made mandatory that pilots must be of the same age to enlist to become a pilot. 

As the number of attacks increased and the number of pilots was rapidly decreasing, many of those regulations were repealed in certain countries; namely the US. 

It is legally viable to become a mech suit pilot as young as fifteen in the United States if they are found compatible. One private company accepts people that young for compatibility testing, while the written test is now given with the selective service paperwork to boys once they turn eighteen. 

The written test is offered with voter registration, but not required. 

—

Archa Three was in a system with two nearby stars, the one the planets actively orbited around and one of an extremely close system. At night the sky would shine with the distant planets and stars, Bluestreak was enjoying the night sky in the quiet. Arm around Sunstreaker’s shoulders, staring at the stars reflecting in the water. 

It had only been a few minutes from when Bluestreak went quiet to Sunstreaker falling asleep, the suit slumping just enough to alert him. Ex-venting slowly, he kept his arm comfortably around Sunstreaker, staring at the horizon.

Until his comm buzzed and he nearly growled. Answering silently, “What?” The bite in his voice would have been enough to scare most people, but the voice on the other side of the comm laughed. 

Though he was still laughing, it took Prowl a moment to clear his voice, “I apologize, I didn’t realize you were so invested with your overnight watch.” Bluestreak’s face burned, “Oh just shut up, fragger.” Prowl chuckled lightly again, shaking his head a bit.

Prowl and Jazz were on the edge of Paraxus, as Jazz had left Iacon sometime during their hectic day, leaving Sideswipe and Breakdown on effective lockdown in the Iacon apartment. Paraxus though the city was still rebuilding from the war it had become a tactical hub at the start of the battles with the Quintessons, realizing it could not and would not remain neutral to destruction again. 

“How is Sunstreaker handling the change in command?” Prowl was keeping his voice down, likely meaning even on internal comm that Jazz was asleep somewhere nearby. Glancing down at the sleeping mech, Bluestreak smiled a bit, “It’s going like you thought it would.” Humming, Prowl fell quiet for a moment.

Bluestreak leaned his cheek against Sunstreaker’s helm, turning up his sensors. Checking the perimeter cameras and sensors with a quick scan, humming then, “He’ll be fine, just has to communicate.” He could almost feel the teasing from the other end of the comm, “That’s why I paired him with you and Ironhide.” Rolling his optics, Blue tucks one servo against Sunny’s side.

“He’s been angry, really angry then so calm. Is that normal or something that’s just Sunny?” Prowl ex-vented slowly, and Blue knew he shifted his weight. One of the mechs few tells, “So, not just Sunny?” Humming again, Prowl shook his helm slowly, “When Jazz went through overuse, it wasn’t this bad. But for him it was fight or die, he couldn’t show who he was. With Sunny and the others, they are out of their suits enough that every time they go back in it’s worse, but this is how they do things on Earth.” Venting shallowly, Blue shifts closer to Sunny, who seemed to move closer and lean more into him.

Looking back out at the ocean, Bluestreak stared, “They're more stubborn than a miner from Tarn.” Prowl’s comm cut out briefly, likely to choke back his own laugher which brought the slightest smile to his face, after a moment Prowl returned, “That is certainly one way of phrasing it, so then, how are things going for your relationship?” It took everything in Blue to not make a sound, gears grinding painfully as he adjusted in his seat.

Prowl just waited, probably wearing his stupid smirk on his faceplates, “It’s fine. Thank you for asking, you slagger.” The chuckle rang through the comm, “These things change and grow, human relationships are different from ours, not horribly so but different enough.” Venting slowly, Prowl stared out the window of the habsuite he was in, Jazz sleeping on his shoulder like Green would, “You have to have meaningful conversation, not just talking at him.” Blue rolled his optics.

The sand was warmed from the suns in this system, but even now away from the heaters it was starting to cool quickly, “We talk.” Prowl hummed, “Sunstreaker is the quietest human I have ever met, versus you.” “Hey!” Trying to hide his grin, Prowl cleared his vocal components briefly, “I am just saying, you two are different. That’s not a bad thing, it just means you both have to have patience.” And Bluestreak’s face burned, glancing down at Sunstreaker. 

Though he could see him, he knew the real Sunny was asleep somewhere safe, tucked inside the suit and away from the toxic and corrosive things this planet seemed to be blanketed in, “Yeah, patient.” He vented before looking back out at the ocean, nodding a bit, “I’ve gotta get back to watch, say hi to Jazz for me.” Prowl glanced over at his own companion who was sound asleep, “I will once he wakes up, keep a vigilant optic Bluestreak.” Bluestreak hummed before disconnecting the comm. 

He checked over the cameras and sensors, nodding a bit before going back to scanning the horizon. The way Sunstreaker reacted to the Quintesson ship was more than instinct, it was personal anger. 

It would be something that they’d have to talk about some cycle, but Blue figured it would be the same one where he explained the so-called inside joke, “Ah, Primus.” he chuckles lightly and shakes his head a bit. 

—

Staying connected to the suit while asleep was not smart or safe, but many pilots had done it before and many would do it after Sunstreaker was gone. It exacerbated overuse symptoms and increased the chances of the crash, but sometimes it was easier than dealing with the after effects of disconnecting.

The suit jolted at the same time Sunstreaker did, still connected even in his sleep, and he was gasping for air. He couldn’t see as his cockpit was shrouded in darkness. 

A hand collided with his chest and he tried desperately to grab it, “No,” his voice was choked, struggling to get air in and out, the hand on his chest shoved him down, “Relax!” Sunny wasn’t familiar with whatever the muffled voice was saying. Finally, he hits the emergency start up for his visual feed. 

Ironhide was over him, pinning him to the sad, practically snarling at him, “Online! Fragging online!” Sunny’s visor brightens just a bit as the rest of his external feeds kick online, sand was spraying all over them, “What the hell?” Ironhide pulls him up and points, “We’ve got company!” He stared for a moment before swearing and online the rest of his suits systems, “Damnit, damnit!” He grabs hold of the controls and adjusts the suit to standing.

The beach was in chaos, it was just shy of morning and there were craters everywhere. It looked so much like the field in Santa Monica. Sunstreaker finally got his head up and stared for a long moment, it was only one ship but it was doing a lot of damage, meaning Sunstreaker had probably pissed them off.

Ironhide still had him by the shoulder and pulls him back behind cover, “When I put you on overnight watch that doesn’t mean give it to Bluestreak so you can recharge!” Hitting the sand again, Sunny groans slightly, “I didn’t mean to fall to sleep! Fuck, alright, just let me handle this.” He slowly rolls and pears over their cover at the ship that was shooting at them. 

He could just see Bluestreak tucked in cover, holding his shoulder with his rifle leaned against his side, “Goddamnit, I can’t even get a decent nights sleep.” With a deep sigh, he adjusts the extension for his bracers before going over the cover and towards the gunfire.

—

Sand was still blowing against his suit and it had been hard to sleep, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Hound had disconnected from the suit for the most part, but kept a screen up with the external feel along with a hold on Mirage’s arm.

He was sitting on the floor, helmet off and eating while watching the outside for the clearing of the storm. Every few minutes Mirage would shift them both and send him tilting the other direction. If he got motion sick, it would make the experience only mildly unpleasant. Right now, he didn’t mind.

The external audio was turned down, mostly wind noise, but some of it was Mirage’s murmurings. Some of it even sounded like praying. Sighing slowly, Hound leaned against the side of his piloting chair, adjusting again as Mirage’s grip shifted again. Grabbing his helmet, he pulls it on before turning on his comm and pinging Mirage.

It took a second for Mirage to answer, “I thought you were asleep.” Hound smiled a bit and leaned his head back against the arm of his chair, “I slept for a bit, but after a while the wind isn’t just white noise anymore.” With a hum, Mirage shifted again, “Are you comfortable?” He chuckled lightly, “Yes Mirage, I’m alright.” Hound sighed slowly. 

The wind was still howling, “How close to sunrise are we?” Hound closed his eyes for a moment, breathing slowly, “Only a few klicks or so, least it should be.” Hound nodded then hummed, realizing his mech wouldn’t move, “And then we find the source of the storm?” Mirage chuckled lightly, “If there is one, yes.” he sighed slowly and held Hound that little bit closer.

Hound slid a bit on the floor and tried not to laugh as he adjusted, “I really am fine Mirage, sandstorms happen on Earth too.” But the mech remains quiet and Hound’s breath caught, “Mirage?” There was a moments pause, “Yes?” Sighing slowly, Hound stood, “Do they have storms like this on Cybertron?” And Mirage sighed shakily, “Not where I’m from, no.” Hound stared at his visual feed for only a moment longer.

Back in his chair, he connected with a bit of a jolt and moved quickly, trying not to hurt Mirage while he moved them both. The wind was trying to shove his suit back to the ground and Mirage wasn’t much help, wiggling and thrashing before finally they had switched places.

Hound was now pinning Mirage to the ground, though not face first in the sand, and Hound’s mech was cradling the poor man’s head, “You should have said something.” He really couldn’t see Mirage, the sand was that dense in the dark, but he had him on infrared, “You were asleep when the storm hit and I couldn’t wake you. I was fine.” Hound scoffs and shakes his head, “You’re insane.” But he continues to hold Mirage’s head away from the ground.

To be fair, Hound knew if he wasn’t in his mech, it would be incredibly awkward to hold any person like this. Watching Mirage’s face get warmer on infrared was proving that fact, but he just held on as still as the suit would allow, “Back home, I’m from essentially a desert. I only lived there a few years but it’s still home.” Mirage’s optics turned towards his visor, though Hound wasn’t sure if he could see him through the storm.

“We didn’t get storms this bad and there wasn’t a ton of sand, but we’d still get them. We’d also get the densest fog you’d ever see.” Hound just hoped that his talking would help keep the poor guy calm, he sighed slowly.

Clearing his throat a bit, Hound lowers his head slightly and closes his eyes, “On Earth, more specifically back home, out in the fields on the really windy days we’d get very weak tornados that would really only move the dust around. They were small and harmless, but they’d still send sand and crap into your eyes. Uh, they were called dust devils, I think. But it could be the most clear and beautiful day and it would be ruined by the fucking sand.” His helm lightly touched the edge of Mirage’s chest plating.

Mirage was staring, just able to see Hound through the sand and to say the least was deeply embarrassed. It was one thing to be frightened by a sand storm, it was another to be comforted by the most oblivious mech in the universe. His own hands had been stiff at his sides, as Hound’s had held his head just above the sand, the poor mech's elbows buried in sand. Slowly, painfully slowly he’d rested his hands back around Hound who just kept rambling on about Earth.

It really was a comfort to listen to him, and Mirage smiled softly, brushing a hand lightly up Hound’s side, “Earth sounds so nice.” Hound looked up, visor brightening, “I miss it, sometimes.” He sighed slowly, shifting slightly in his chair while keeping the suit as still as he could. His implants felt like they were burning and the skin around them was swollen, “But the work is here. I wouldn’t wish to be there, when there’s so much to do here.” He smiled a bit, “Do you feel better?”

Mirage really wanted to punch the oblivious idiot, “Yeah, I do.” Hound smiled, “Good, I’m glad.” He lowered his suit’s head back down, “Get some rest Mirage, I’ve got you till the storm breaks.” Mirage stared at him like Hound had grown a second helm, the mech was insane and oblivious. Rolling his optics a bit, he vents out.

Tapping a few things in the controls, Hound locks up the suit, keeping it in place. He doubted it was the most comfortable thing for Mirage, but it might be the most comforting. Yawning, he removes his helmet and tosses his legs over the arm of his piloting chair, “God, it had to be the middle of the night, didn’t it?” Mirage chuckled in the dark, “That is the way things go.” And Hound smiled, closing his eyes.

—

The room was pleasantly dark and the bed decently comfortable, his arm thrown over his eyes. Since it was just himself and Sideswipe, the apartment was almost pleasantly quiet. It had been hard, the first few days of bed rest but his overuse symptoms had been limited before the concussion and he had yet to be back in the suit since. 

Almost all overuse symptoms were gone, though Breakdown had experienced them in the past. His were slightly different from the Americans, as his implants didn’t bleed or drain, as most of the skin around them had been cauterized. It was only once on loan to MECHA did any of his integrated hardware get updated. 

Almost all of the new stuff was still in fact new. For the twins, their implants and things were only a few years old, Hound and Jazz had had them for almost or around ten years, as had Breakdown with his original integrations. The ones for the upgrades though, those only came about in the last year or two, they would still itch and burn.

Right now his right arm was burning and he thought about getting up to get some water to put on it, but Sideswipe’s music was being played at unbearable levels in the living room. 

So, Breakdown just turned over and tried to go back to sleep. 

Sideswipe was playing his music while checking through part of the wiring on his suit, nodding along to the few familiar sounds from home that were withstanding. At the end of the week, if Breakdown was cleared by Jazz, he’d be shipping out to join Megatron and Hound while Sideswipe was still wondering who on earth this Elita-One person was. 

They couldn’t be that bad, most of who he’d met had been nice enough. Sometimes a little scary but he doubted anyone reached Megatron’s level of intensity. 

The little comm on the wall started to ping, which would go ignored until Sideswipe could get his helmet microphone working again, so it would just sit there and ping. He swore loudly as the wires he connected burned his fingers lightly, kicking his assistance suit off the table.

Breakdown covered his ears and turned into his pillow.  

— 

It wasn’t particularly hard to disable its small shuttle craft, these were run of the mill and more typical back home than they had been in the nearly seven months that they’d been among the Cybertronian’s. Then again, they were fighting an army of these freaks compared to the one or two that was able to topple an Earth city.

Sunstreaker was breathing heavy, mask back on as the air in his tanks was starting to drain with the exertion, “Fall back!” He throws his arm behind him a bit, tangled with the Quintesson, whose ship was above them and still laying down covering fire through the cybertronian camp, “Sunstreaker, don’t be stupid!” Ironhide was behind him, just barely covered by an overturned crate and holding his arm.

It was singed and sparking painfully.

Barely sparing a glance over his shoulder, Sunstreaker drags his blade across one of the tentacles of the Quintesson, splattering his mech in that familiar disgusting green, “Ironhide, fall back and get the others to a safe distance! That ship isn’t going to be able to stay up there if it uses up all its energy on the covering fire!” The Quintesson quickly tugged him back and screamed, trying to pry at his plating. 

Someone yelled loudly and several blaster shots came incredibly close to Sunny’s visual feed, one camera cutting out with a flash as he swung around, foot colliding with the beak of the enemy. It shrieked and reeled back, Sunny bringing one of his bladed bracers down on it again, splattering more green across the light sand. 

There was no more yelling behind him and he could finally focus on just the fight, Ironhide pinging him to alert him of their retreat location. With a bit of a smile, Sunstreaker dove at the monster again, pulling at its limbs with a horrific squelching noise. Wrapping its limbs around his arms and pulling, tearing them away from the alien and cutting them when they wouldn’t give, it screamed and tried to get hold of his legs again.

He stomped on it and headbutted the thing, though he thought for a second he heard his visor crack, another camera was quick to pop offline, which he doubted was a good thing. Sunstreaker was still able to maintain his entire visual feed, resorting to auxiliary cameras.

This particular specimen had denser skin than other Quints he fought, harder to pull apart and nearly impossible to cleave in two without Sideswipe there, but he was still trying. Spraying the beautiful beach in green as the ship above lets out its final pathetic shots on the distant sand, its menacing hum turning into a pathetic whine. 

It started to let out an alarmed sound, which caused the Quintesson to look up and gave Sunny the perfect moment to jump forward, arm going half way deep into its body. It gurgled briefly, spraying the front of his mech greener still, before its tentacles fell from around Sunstreaker and it’s body gave way. It almost dragged Sunny to the sand too.

He hardly had a moment to catch his breath before turning than diving the other way, the absurdly large scout ship crashing onto the beach where it’s energy cells were quick to explode upon impact. Spraying the once beautiful organic paradise in a horrible mix of technological and organic shipwreck. Leaving the beautiful beach on fire. 

The concussive wave hit last, slamming into Sunstreaker’s suit like a perfectly placed punch, enough to knock the wind out of him.

Laying in the sand, the water comes up and brushes over parts of his mech and Sunstreaker tried not to laugh. There, on the beach, staring up at the brightening sky, it really did remind him of home for a long moment. 

Chuckling and sitting up, he rubbed a hand over his covered face, moving to remove the oxygen mask before stopping. Starting. The hand of his mech had glass sticking in its seams, a light blue glass, “Oh shit.” He didn’t know how bad it would be, but that would be a part that would be incredibly difficult to replace or explain having to replace.

With a shove off the ground, he pulled up the coordinates sent to him by Ironhide and started that way, a few mechs already appearing from around the area to try and start putting out the fire. A few had upgrades that were able to put down extinguishing agents.

Sunstreaker kept walking, even as a few people he knew stopped to gawk at him, which was not a good sign to be able to explain this away.

It got even worse when Flatline came running up to him, the mech was large and intimidating but an incredible medic, “Sunstreaker, you need to stop, just hold still!” His hand lightly grabbed Sunstreaker’s suit, and Sunny pulled back, holding up his hands lightly, “It looks worse than it is, I swear.” Poor Flatline looked horrified, “There are going to be mechs who actually need your help, cause of the explosion and stuff.” Sunny added lamely. 

This was not going to help his case, even as he kept backing up, now in the tree line and edging close to where Ironhide had ordered the retreat to. More mecha were gawking at him or even gasping, this was bad, “Sunstreaker, it is more than just appearing incredibly painful, your optics,” “Are fine! I swear, it’s just the visor, I think. I can see.” He tries sidestepping the medic, when sends him colliding with his commanding officer. Today was just turning into the perfect mess.

Ironhide looked ready to yell when Sunstreaker turned to him, before going pale, or cold, Sunny wasn’t entirely sure which to describe it as for a mech, “Sweet primus, how are you still standing?” Sunstreaker winces, “Is it really that bad?” Ironhide gawked at him as someone nearby was sobbing.

”That bad? Kid, your visor is shattered and you’ve got a graze that took out part of your finial.” The sobbing got louder, “Oh Blue, he’s alive! Calm down, for sparks sake.” Ironhide sighs slowly, staring, “Does it hurt?” Sunstreaker could only offer a shrug and the truth, “I don’t feel a thing, but I was designed that way.” Flatline made a strangled noise and Ironhide looked ready to either pass out or murder mankind, he wasn’t sure which at the moment, “Come on kid, sit down, let Flatline at least, at least cover it.” Nodding a bit, Sunstreaker slowly sits.

Flatline filled most of his visual feed in the next second, “I don’t have the parts to replace this,” “I don’t think you could if you wanted to. A lot of your stud won’t integrate with our systems.” Flatline looked to Ironhide, who could only nod, then Flatline swore and started to put god knows what across his suit's visor.

It went quiet for a bit after that, Ironhide disappearing out of Sunny’s field of view and Sunstreaker couldn’t move without being growled at. Intimidating indeed. 

It was only once the shattered visor was mostly covered and Sunstreaker had adjusted his cameras did Ironhide reappear, with Bluestreak to his left looking horribly distraught. Sunny smiled and realized that Blue wouldn’t see it before sending him a ping, which opened far faster than would be humanly possible. He still offered a smile, but it didn’t seem to improve Blue’s mood.

Ironhide cleared his throat a bit, “Sunstreaker, I gave an order to Bluestreak here to fire on the Quintesson when he had a clear shot.” He pauses and looks at Blue then back at Sunny.

It honestly looked Sunny way too long to put two and two together, he paused before staring with a slightly slack jaw, “Wait, Blue shot me? In the face?” Bluestreak made a pained noise, “To be fair, he was shooting the tentacle that was trying to wrap itself around your face that you were ignoring. The second shot just hit your face since the first one severed the thing.” Nodding slowly, Sunstreaker goes to rub his face in thought and three mechs were quick to grab his arm.

”Don’t touch it! It’s only a cover till you can get it repaired.” Flatline was glaring now, so Sunstreaker slowly lowered his hands. Ironhide sighed deeply, “This could have been a lot worse, if we were using the weapons from the war.” Nodding for a moment, Sunny looked to Ironhide, “You’re not using the weapons from the war?” “Primus no, those things were designed to kill us. To go through cyber-mater. We only use the new stuff now.” He nods a bit, clearly worried but unwilling to show it. 

Bluestreak’s hand lightly covered his mouth, “It’s… It’s only supposed to-to hurt organics.” His voice wavered and rose, but Ironhide’s hand came down, “See? It’s nothing personal, kid. We all get shot by an ally at some point, though it’s usually Mirage as the high caste bastard can turn himself invisible.” Bluestreak looked at Sunstreaker, clearly still distraught and horrified, but Sunny nodded a bit and moves over, taking his hand, “I’m not hurt, I swear.” Ironhide and Flatline shared a look.

With a deep sigh, Ironhide rests a hand on Sunstreaker’s shoulder, “I think it’s fair to say you're off punishment Civi, just, get some rest while we try to recover anything from camp. Try to recall Skyfire and the shuttle to get the pit out of here.” He nodded a bit before going off, barking orders again.

Sunstreaker stared after them, “That Quintesson comms station was at camp.” Bluestreak took his hand and held it tightly, “That doesn’t matter.” Looking at Blue, Sunny shakes his head lightly, “I’m not hurt Blue, it just busted up a camera or two.” But the pain on Bluestreak’s face wouldn’t be going away any time soon, “But you look hurt and I caused it.” Sunstreaker sighed, leaning his head against Bluestreak’s shoulder.

Even though they were in the tree line, the waves were still audible, “I’m human Blue, whether I was hurt or just my suit, we both know this is what I was made to do.” Bluestreak’s grip held tighter, “I hate that you pilots feel the need to live and die for this.” Sunstreaker smiled sadly, “What else would there be to live for? When your world would die if you didn’t at least try.” He sighed slowly, running diagnostics.

They sat there, silently, Bluestreak looking both at the suit and the human in the corner of his visual feed, unable to stop thinking about the fact that his gun was re-designed specifically to kill organics. 

———

A/N

So I basically wrote this all tonight, cause I lost track of time and forgot it was Monday after posting an earlier chapter on Ao3. I was busy today anyways.

It’s not likely that I’ll have part 27 for you guys on Friday, just cause I have to write some personal statement for applications this week.

Also also, earlier when I mentioned it being action and fluff? Yeah, I have written up till Sunny was just starting the fight with the Quint, I did not anticipate the later part of this chapter.

Sunny’s visor for his suit has a small chunk taken out of it, right near where his right eye would be, and it had spider webbed the glass. It’s not a pretty picture, plus the tip of his finial thing had been sheered down. I promise if you look at @cosmique-oddity ‘s art for Arcturus you’ll know what I mean.

Uh, anyways. I hope you enjoy this late chapter. P. 25 didn’t do great last week so we’ll see?

Also I have no idea who Flatline is. I know he is a decepticon medic from IDW and I needed a medic that could be on Archa three with them.

TAGS!

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @childofprimus @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @dimencreasatlas @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @starscreamloverfr @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @blue-wrens @sirassban @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @osqindaxend @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc @echo-circuit @aghostsnail @wooblewooble @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @nonsscarpheap @magichats @iminahole247 @omgflyingderpywhale @pour1tin @thetrexartist @naaaafam @elegantmantaray @emichusai @waterlilykitty @diabolichare

And once again thank you to @keferon for this amazing AU

[bluespace-writer]

Hi. I want to make a suggestion: Their s/o goes completely missing. How does the mercs react?

If not all mercs, van I suggest Sniper, Soldier and Engineer?

TF2 Mercs reacting to s/o going missing - [platonic, romantic]

> With five mercs (Sorry I didn't do all of them): Scout, Solider, Sniper, Spy, Engineer

Scout:

> Scout is the first one to notice your absence. He walks around the base looking for his bud but when unsuccessful his first thought will be "Ah, they probably went on a mission or something" and goes back to continue his activities

> When some time passes Scout starts to worry. Sure he could understand that some contracts are hard to finish but everyone were always back before day ends. And you are still not back.

> He can't stand it and decides to look around the base trying to find you. Unsuccessful after his research Scout is getting more worried

> I imagine him runing around from room to room, asking some guys about you only to hear that you still aren't back. Oh boy where are you?

> His reaction that you are missing next day fills him with worry. Why? How?! Where are they?! Why did they disappeared??

> First one to volunteer to look for you

> If you are his partner or if you have crush on each other be ready to be swarm with hugs and worried fast talk after this

> After you are found his first reaction is to put his arms around your shoulders and ask milion questions. Where were you, etc. Now he won't leave you for a whole week. "What? Noooo I wasn't worried about you, but don't disappear like that!" won't admit it but he missed you. A lot.

Solider:

> He won't see your absence at first, it will take some time for him to realize there was supposed to be 10 and not 9 people around

> He will shrug it off thinking you are just away

> He is going to find out you are missing only when someone points out your absence to him in person

> "SHALL KNOW NO FEAR MAGGOT!! MISSING WILL BE FOUND!!" He screams out loud, while running to the next room to look for you

> Alright.... it's been some time now. Where are you?... He is going to miss you buddy. He cares for his team, and is actually worried.

> When you are found he will lecture you how to not get kidnapped or lost again. That especially applies if you are his partner (you won't escape crushing night cuddles)

> Give him love, he missed you a lot, even if he doesn't show it

Sniper:

> He notices your absence after a while. Does it make him worry about you? Nope. He is going to come back to him van or practice his sniping skills not thinking about your disappearance too much. You all have a lot of work to do after all

> Hours will pass before he finnaly decides to look for you. Just to see where you are so he wouldn't have to think about it anymore

> When checking your most visited spots don't bring him any luck he'll ask some of teammembers about you.

> When it brings no luck he decides to look for you on his own. Come on.... where are you mate.

> After you are back safe and sound expect him to be not far away from you for.... three or more days, watching you from far away. Just to be sure you won't disappear without a word.

>If you are in relationship with him, he won't show any signs of beeing worried, but privately he'll give you a hug, or hold your hands close to his face

> He missed you... and he is glad you are back

Spy:

> He know you are missing before anyone does.

> He know his teammates well, from their activities to schedules and habits. He is a Spy after all, his job is to mimic people.

>When you are not doing something that according to his observation, you were supposed to do, he is going to look for you (invisible of course)

> Strange.... you are not here... not in your favourite spot... not around your favourite people. This.... is bad news.

> He let's everyone know you are missing, volunteering himself to look for you

> Back at the base he isn't going to stick around you very long. Just long enough to know you are well. He is kind enough to make you a drink

> When you are that one special person close to him, know he is going to take you to his room to give you best treatment you have ever received in your entire life. He will ask questions, how, who, what, why's and all that. Be patient with him, he wants to know details.

> Kisses on cheeks and hands, to let you know he missed you

Engineer:

> He is a busy man, but he is observant one too and is going to notice you aren't around.

> Will ask around first instead of looking for you by himself. When answer won't satisfy him, this is when he'll look for you.

> Is the first one to rase the alarm to let everyone you are missing

> Come on.... where are you?? It isn't like you to just be gone for so long...

> He is the one to find you and bring you back safely. Is the one to give you check up alongside Medic

> Expect him to ask you a lot of questions, just to be sure you are feeling alright. Will not leave your side for a while and is going to check on you from time to time bringing cookies or something to drink, like water or tea

> "Darlin' stay with me will Ya? Just... want to be with you" He is sweet one, wanting best for his partner, in the romantic way too. He doesn't want you to be missing again when he is being distracted with his work. Hold his hand and kiss him! He wants to be sure you are save dear...