#and i have a base idea of where this is going so we'll see!

[everystephoftheway]

camp cloudtop: chapter one

A Vaxleth-centric summer camp AU! After a childhood bereft of the summer camp experience, Keyleth decides to spend her first summer away from home at the illustrious Camp Cloudtop. She meets all sorts of interesting characters, including her co-counselor of the 7-9 year old age group, Vax’ildan.

This is my first fanfic in the Critical Role fandom, and first fanfic in general in nearly ten years! Please be kind! I'm not sure where this is going, or how long this will be, but I hope you join me for the adventure :)

This can be found on ao3 as well.

“Hello, my wondrous faculty and staff! Please find your co-counselors, take a seat, and we’ll officially get started in just a few minutes!”

The charisma of the man on stage was just as electric as the bright purple jumpsuit he wore, trimmed in gold and the collar popped ostentatiously high. Even from the back of the room, Keyleth felt his energy; she couldn’t imagine what it’d be like standing right in front of him. Eye contact would be impossible, she was sure.

She looked down at the name tag stuck to her shirt, her name Keyleth written in decent handwriting followed by, “Age Group: 7-9 Year Olds.” She placed a hand over the sticker, sensing a tightness in her ribcage, and forced herself to take a deep breath.

“You wanted to be here,” she muttered to herself. “You’re gonna do great. It's a camp. Be campy.”

With another deep breath, Keyleth plastered a smile on her face and started making her way through the crowd of counselors to find who was to be her teammate for the next two months. Some of the counselors looked older, but most seemed to be college-aged like her, some excited while others gave the impression that they might have been cajoled into working here.

Her eyes scanned each nametag, but it wasn’t until she reached the other side of the room when she found who she was looking for. There was a group of three other counselors, all around Keyleth’s age, she guessed, but, gods, they looked so much cooler. The woman–girl?--no, definitely woman, was wearing a cropped blue shirt, dark jeans, and brown leather cuffs on each wrist. Her rich black hair was perfectly plaited into a thick braid, and her makeup was simple but severe with smoked out eyeliner and burgundy red lips. The guy next to her seemed a bit less sure of himself, shoulders curled forward in a way that shrouded just how tall he was. His hair was bleached near white, the roots his darker natural color. His glasses were round and gold, and he wore a long jacket despite the summer season. She noticed those two had the same age group on their name tags.

“Quite a pair,” she muttered to herself.

“And you are?”

Keyleth hadn’t noticed her feet hadn’t stopped moving, and she was now standing with the group of three. The woman placed her hands on her hips, turning to face Keyleth.

“Oh, I’m sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean…I didn’t realize. I’m–”

“My partner.” The third guy stood a little straighter against the wall, an amused smirk across his thin, pretty face. His hair was just as long as the woman's, though less coarse and textured, and he kept it back in a half up-half down ponytail. His nails were painted black, small calluses visible on the palms of his hands. He was dressed in all black, similar dark jeans as his friends and a plain black t-shirt. His name tag read, “Vax’ildan. Age Group: 7-9 Year Olds.”

Holy shit, breathe Keyleth. Another deep breath and that plastered smile returned, cheeks now nearly as red as her hair. “That’s me. According to the name tags, anyway. Whoever wrote them has really good handwriting. Oh, I’m,” she traced her finger underneath her name, “Keyleth.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “We can read, darling.”

Vax’ildan bumped the woman with his shoulder, and offered his hand to shake. “You can call me Vax. This is Vex, my twin sister, and Percy.”

The white haired boy offered a shy raise of his hand as a wave, and Keyleth gave one in return before she placed her hand in Vax’s to shake. Are all boys’ hands so warm? And soft? How are they soft if he has calluses? I wonder how old he is.

He was pulling away before she even processed the shake actually happened, and she whipped her hands behind her back, fingers twiddling together. There was a breadth of silence, the warmth on Keyleth’s cheeks growing more pronounced, but before she could attempt to say anything else the man on the stage returned.

“Alright, my little turtle doves! Let’s get this summer session started!”

[mypoisonedvine]

𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 | eddie munson x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | based on a request from the lovely @ultraintrovertedgryffindor ; getting stuck in an elevator with his best friend (and secret crush) was absolutely not on eddie's morning agenda, but it leads to one of his most wild fantasies coming to life.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻���� | 3.8k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | SMUT (18+ only!! semi-public sex, oral m receiving, kinda pervy eddie but also slightly pervy reader with a balls fixation gee I wonder where that idea came from), best friends to lovers (but very very limited plot haha), pretty much exactly what it says on the tin y'all not sure what to say

Eddie laughed as he pressed his hands to the elevator doors, but it wasn't a laugh of amusement— it was exasperation, frustration, an is this really happening? laugh.

"Soonest we can get a crew out there is uhh... noon?" the voice on the emergency phone informed you.

"Noon?!" you yelped. "It's not even half past eight!"

"What did I tell ya?" Eddie recalled, hanging his head in defeat for a second. "Nothing good happens before ten."

"Just try to stay calm and we'll be there when we can," the operator suggested, like it was so simple.

You didn't even reply to that, just scoffed and hung up.

It wasn't like he'd been looking forward to his GED exam, in fact he'd almost been hoping for a way to put it off or get out of it... but this was definitely not what he was imagining. Of all the elevators to get stuck in, this generic government building where he was supposed to have his big test proctored was probably the most boring option.

He glanced over at you, and stopped himself from making a dirty joke: you heard that Aerosmith single, right? Love In An Elevator?

That probably wouldn't have gone over well. He used to say stuff like that when you were both a little younger, but he'd since given up hope of it ever actually... inspiring anything.  You two were probably better off as friends anyways; or, that’s what he told himself to make it sting a little less.

“Looks like we’ll be stuck in here for a while…” he mumbled instead.  “Did they say what the issue is?”

“Some kind of power failure?” you recalled with a shrug.  “It’s gonna take a while to fix, that’s the important thing.  Do you think they’ll call the fire department?”

“Who knows,” Eddie sighed, leaning against the wall as you sank onto the floor and dropped your head back against the wall.  “I guess we should just try to get comfortable.”

Which was easier said than done, but at least he was stuck here with you— you were generally pretty fun to talk to.  Of course, you weren’t exactly in your best mood due to the circumstances…

At 8:32, Eddie checked his watch.  “I’m officially late for my exam,” he noticed.

At 9, you checked your own; “And I’m officially late for work.  We'll see if I even still have a job when we get out of here," you groaned. "I was on pretty thin ice already."

By 9:14, the stuffiness of the elevator was becoming harder to ignore.  Eddie slipped off his jacket and vest in response to the heat, but resisted the urge to take off his Ozzy shirt. You'd seen him shirtless before, of course, but he figured out would be weirder without the right context.

"Fuck, it's hot in here," you whined quietly.

"I guess the power issue affects the A/C, huh," Eddie noticed.

"You think?" you scoffed, reaching up to unbutton the top of your shirt.

For some reason, he kinda liked when you were condescending like that; of course he loved it when you were sweet like usual, but when you got frustrated and sarcastic and looked at him like he was crazy... for whatever reason, it worked for him. And it was definitely working like never before when combined with your hasty efforts to open your shirt.

He expected you to stop after a couple buttons, but you just kept going, exposing more and more of your chest glistening with sweat. His eyes were glued to it, until you got low enough for him to see a glimpse of your bra, and he coughed as he turned his head quickly.

"Woah, hey, uh--" he stammered out awkwardly.

"Oh whatever, you've seen me in a bikini, it's the same thing," you rolled your eyes.

But it's not the same thing, because you were stripping, untucking the button-up from your tight skirt, fanning your flushed skin...

And he was tugging the crotch of his jeans down a bit when you weren't looking, trying to keep his oncoming boner from being too obvious. 

Leaving your shirt open, you sighed and sat down on the floor, splaying your legs out on the ground.  He could see how uncomfortable you were, and it made him press his lips together while he sighed through his nose.  Though he was a little afraid you weren’t in the mood for any friendly behavior as your frustration and stir-craziness increased, he walked across the elevator and sat down next to you.  “I was probably gonna flunk the test,” he decided.

“What?  No you weren’t,” you scoffed.  “You studied so hard!  I’m really proud of you, you know.”

“Just ‘cause we’re stuck in here doesn’t mean you should get all sappy with me—” he started.

“No— ‘cause we’re stuck in here I’m not gonna put up with you trying to be down on yourself,” you decided sternly with a little glare at him.  “You were gonna fucking ace it, I know you were.  You worked your ass off.  I know you wanted to act like you didn’t care, but you actually got your shit together and did it.”

“You… you helped me a lot,” he mumbled sheepishly.

“Please, I hardly did anything— mostly just kept you from getting too distracted,” you denied, blissfully unaware that he actually found you more distracting sometimes, but never minded it.  “Can you stop being a pussy and just admit you’re actually smart, and dedicated, and more than capable of nailing this?”

He blinked quickly and looked down into his lap, feeling his face warm up— not just from the heat.  How could you be so mean and nice at the same time?  

“And now it’s gonna go to waste, ‘cause of this godforsaken elevator,” you sighed, dropping your head back; a pessimistic end to a pep talk, but he couldn’t blame you.

"Think of it this way: it couldn't get any worse!" Eddie offered with a faux-upbeat tone.

Right then, the lights in the elevator flickered and turned off, plunging you both into darkness. "I fucking hate you," you announced after a short silence.

He heard a whirring sound from somewhere else in the shaft, and a dimmer orange lighting came on inside the elevator; some kind of emergency back-up generator thing, probably. It was enough to see decently well, especially as his eyes started to adjust, but still made it feel like you were both in an even more perilous situation.

“I didn’t sleep enough last night,” you admitted, “I might try to catch up on that.  Maybe if I can sleep this will go by faster…”

“I like that plan,” he decided, even though he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to do the same.  Eddie had a hard time keeping still and quiet, but he managed to do it so you could get your rest.

He suspected you had fallen asleep when your breathing seemed to slow down a bit— but he knew you had when you limply slumped to the side, your head gently landing on his shoulder.  This happened every once in a while, a sign of how comfortable you were with him. He supposed he should be thankful for it, but sometimes it just made him furious. Because what cruel punishment was this, to have you lay on him like this when he can't put his arm around you and kiss your head and tell you how perfect you are?

The half-boner he’d wound up with earlier when you unbuttoned your shirt had never really gone away, and it noticed your proximity with renewed interest.  Maybe it was just because he was so bored with literally nothing to do but think about you, but his mind kept coming up with all these fucked up ideas based on the eyeful he’d gotten.  

What if you’d taken off your bra as well and let him see the tits he’d been fantasizing about for longer than he cared to admit?  What if this had happened in winter instead and the elevator was brutally cold and you two had to hold your naked bodies together for warmth?  What if that guy on the phone said this thing was airtight and two only had an hour to live and you decided you wanted to go out with a bang, literally?  

He wondered if he’d be brave enough to tell you how he felt about you, if either or both of you only had an hour left.  For better or for worse, this elevator shaft had airflow, so you were more likely to die of boredom than anything.

He shifted slightly, stuck in a somewhat awkward position, but it didn't help much— though thankfully it didn't wake you up, either.  He just wished he could get some relief, somehow.

Obviously, he knew it was a bad idea. But the thing about his dick is it usually talked him into some pretty bad ideas…

He tested the waters with a whisper of your name, but you just kept breathing slowly— you were out cold. Maybe you were even more nervous for him than you'd let on, if you were that underslept.

Reaching up with his free hand, all he had to do was grip himself through his jeans to get some relief; he sighed through his nose, shutting his eyes.

His cock flexed impatiently as he unzipped the jeans as slowly as possible to avoid making too much sound. But god was it worth the wait— as soon as he slipped his hand into his boxers he had to bite his lip, it was so good just to get some attention for his poor, lonely dick.

This was far from the first time Eddie had jerked off to the thought of you. But he was sure he'd never done it while you were this close.

He did it once or twice in your bathroom while you were on the other side of the wall, that was probably the closest he'd come to this before. And that was chump change compared to this-- this was so risky it made his heart race and his hands shake with adrenaline, but it only made him more desperate for whatever reason.

He wouldn't have swiped his thumb through the precum at his slit if he had known how good it would feel— or maybe if he'd known how good it would feel, he would've been able to prepare himself for it. But the anxiety of getting caught had made him even more sensitive, so he hadn't really seen it coming, and when he did it he let out a little moan through his teeth that he couldn't stop.

You stirred again and he froze; when you lifted your head off of his shoulder, he hastily shoved himself back into his jeans, trying to cover up the open fly with the bottom of his shirt.

“Were you… jerking off?” you realized, and he felt sick with fear as his heart raced like never before.

“W-what?” he scoffed incredulously.  “I— are you crazy?”

“Ed,” you warned firmly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I— sorry—”

“Are you that bored?” you mocked with a snort, and he felt even more flushed; it made his cock flex under the mediocre covering of his shirt when you degraded him like that.

“N-no— well, yeah, I just— you put your head on me and I—”

“It was because of me?” you realized, and his mouth fell open.  He hadn’t realized that you hadn’t actually put that together yet; of course he’d ended up just digging himself deeper.

“W-well, uh— I mean, no, no I— well.  Kind of?”

“Kind of, as in…”

“Completely,” he blurted out.

You were quiet for a long time, and he couldn’t see your face well enough to even try to guess what you were thinking.  Although you probably could’ve given him a thousand guesses and he never would’ve guessed what you ended up saying: “You want some help with that?” you offered.

But before he could even answer— not that he really could, he was too busy having a short circuit in his brain— you were reaching for his lap.  And even if his mind was blown, his body knew to just lift his hands up and out of the way and let you do whatever you wanted to him.

You pulled up the bottom of his shirt and sighed a little when you saw his cock, still hard and leaking and curled up against his stomach.  You carefully wrapped your hand around it, and he swallowed thickly, wondering if he was dreaming or something— you were so… soft.

“Like this?” you asked gently, making his hips twitch up into your hand for a second.

“Y-yeah,” he nodded, eyes glued to the way your hand looked wrapped around him.  If only the lights weren’t out, he wanted to see it even better.

He looked at your face, moving your hair a little to make sure he could see you, but from what he could tell your eyes were trained on his lap.

“Fuuuck,” he whispered when you stroked him a bit more confidently.  He wanted to shut his eyes from how good it felt, but he didn’t want to look away from a moment of this in case you, you know, came to your senses and stopped.

“S’really thick,” you said, under your breath, a little bit shyly.  He groaned and ran his hand over your back, trying not to do too much in case it startled you but also totally helpless to how badly he needed you.  “I wonder if I can…”

You trailed off, and before he could decide if he should ask what you were going to say, you 

As soon as you leaned down and put your mouth around him, his back arched and his legs kicked a bit.  “Fuck, baby,” he choked out, melting into the warm feeling of your lips, your tongue— god, he couldn’t believe you were doing this to him.  He actually had to fight the urge to tell you so, to admit how much he’d imagined this; he settled for whining out your name and running a hand over your hair encouragingly.  “S’fucking warm, oh my god—”

You hummed around him, sucking a bit harder, swirling your tongue around the tip; who the fuck taught you that?  It made his chest burn with some targetless jealousy even while it made his cock flex proudly. 

Your hand still gripping the base, you took him a little bit deeper, moaning a little bit once again while you did it.  No way you actually enjoyed this, right?

You pulled your head up a bit— he took his hand away quickly, not trying to hold you down or anything— and just when he wondered if you might stop, you dropped down lower so you could run your tongue up from the very bottom all the way to his leaking slit—

“Jesus,” he laughed thinly, “what are you doing to me, baby?”

“Whatever I wanna do,” you replied— if he was a little braver, he would’ve asked what made you want this, how long you wanted this— but he was more than content to let you do whatever you wanted, so far you had some pretty fucking good ideas.

Your head sank even a little bit lower, and he pushed his jeans down just a bit in case they were getting in your way.  Boy, was he glad he did.  “Fuck,” he gasped, watching in shock as you looked up at him while your tongue ran over his balls.  “Sorry, they’re, uh, kinda sweaty…”

“Even better,” you purred; what the fuck were you doing acting so dirty like that?

“Baby,” he laughed thinly, “is this some kind of claustrophobia-induced psychosis or something?  Who are you and what have you done with my prude best friend?”

“Prude?  That’s unfair,” you laughed.  “Just ‘cause I don’t advertise every dirty thought that goes through my mind doesn’t mean I’m not as much of a freak as you…”

“Freak is an understatement,” he sighed, struggling to keep his voice even when he was literally watching you lick all over his balls like this.  “You’re a proper fucking slut.”

You hummed proudly, eyes getting a little heavier— when you looked up at him like that, he was totally helpless.  “It’s slutty to wanna taste your best friend’s balls?”

“F-fuck, of course it is,” he whined, cock flexing in your hand again when you licked a stripe up between then.

“Well then yeah, guess I’m a slut,” you agreed. 

“G-god, I— I’m gonna—” he tried to warn you, but it happened so fast— it happened the second you started to gently suck on his balls, in fact.  What was he supposed to do when you did that?!  How could he not shoot cum all over his now-definitely-ruined shirt?

“Oh shit,” you giggled— his cock was still flexing and you were already mocking him.

“What— what the fuck,” he began, trying to catch his breath, “made you wanna do that?”

But you were already straddling his lap, pulling up your skirt to your waist.

“F-fuck, baby, I— are you seriously—?”

He cut himself off and whimpered when he got a good look at your panties, the cute lacy kind— and pretty fucking soaked already.

“I-I don’t have a condom,” he warned you, cursing himself inside for finally throwing out the one in his wallet thinking he would never end up needing it.

“Don’t care,” you sighed, pulling your panties aside and guiding his tip right up to your entrance.

“Fuck, that’s—”

He was gonna say it was insanely hot, but you hardly noticed; you were already sliding down onto him, taking him in one motion right to the base.

“Oh fuck!” he nearly shouted, gripping hard onto your thighs.  “F-fuck, you’re so tight, fuck…”

You started moving right away, grinding on top of him for a second before lifting your hips and bouncing up and down.  “Fuck,” you sighed, “so deep…”

Was it wrong that he loved the way you were basically just using him?  You hadn’t even let him finish his sentence, you didn’t ask if he could handle it right after coming— you just started riding him, and far be it from him to complain about that.

“Take this off,” he pleaded, tugging at your unbuttoned shirt and trying to push it off your shoulders.

You helped him get it off, and before you’d even tossed it off to the side he was reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.  The gods of bra clasps smiled down upon him that day, because he was sure he’d never gotten one open so quickly, and if there was any time he really needed it, it was now.

“Fuck,” he groaned when he got a good look at them— not good enough in this dim orange lighting, but it would do— and instantly got a hold of your chest.  You didn’t seem to mind the clammy hands, considering the way you whimpered a little and clenched inside around him.  “God, baby, your tits…”

As much as he’d been waiting ages for a chance to see you naked, he couldn’t deny you looked way too good with the skirt, stockings, and heels still on.  He could already tell this was going to give him a complex.

He ran a hand up your leg as you moved just to feel the silky nylon; god, he hoped you didn’t get fired for the unexplained extreme lateness, if not just for your sake then so that you would keep dressing like this every day.  “So pretty,” he sighed, wondering if you could see in the dark how totally in awe he was of you.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, in that way he’d always imagined you would in a time like this.  Your head fell back and he couldn’t help but reach up and grab your neck— not applying much pressure, just holding you there, just admiring how goddamn perfect his hand looked wrapped around you.  

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Eddie sighed, “fuck, look at you go.”

You smiled a little, he could see it even with your head tilted back like that, and it was just amazing seeing you so… free?  So relaxed and totally shameless, giving in to your pleasure.  But it wasn’t enough: he wanted to see you lose all your composure, he wanted to hear you scream his name, he wanted to make you shake and cry and beg— that was why he grabbed a tight hold of your hips and pulled you down onto him, bucking his hips up to meet you halfway.  It forced his cock even deeper and you yelped a little.

“Not too big for you, is it?” he taunted.

“No, fuck, s’perfect,” you moaned, your voice deep and rough and so fucking beautiful like this.  “Fuckin’ perfect, Ed, o-oh god—”

“Keep saying my name,” he ordered.

“Eddie,” you said, again, but this time all needy and cute; it just made him fuck you harder, biting down on his lip to muffle some of his own noises— he just wanted to hear you.  He pulled you down and hugged you close, keeping you still so he could fuck up into you exactly how he wanted; you moaned right by his ear, fuck it was too precious.  

“I’m already close again,” he admitted with a thin laugh.  “Fuck, look what you do to me.”

You whined louder, clenching on his cock— he seriously did not know how much more of this he could take.

“Wanted you so bad,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself, “wanted this for so long.  Wanted to fuck you— I wanna make you come, fuck, please, please come.”

He felt you nod against his shoulder as you gasped, and he shut his eyes tight, just focusing on his movements and trying his best not to speed up too much just to chase his own high.  He needed you to come more than he needed his own pleasure, even if everything in his body was screaming for a chance to come inside you. “So close,” you panted, “fuck, Eddie, don’t stop— please don’t stop— yes!”

The lights turning back on suddenly startled you both, making him freeze and look around (and squint a little from the brightness), but that was nothing compared to the shock of the doors opening.  Behind them was mostly just concrete, the space between floors, but up top was about two feet of the eighth level, where a crew of firefighters could be seen peering in.

“Are they alright?” someone from the building asked as Eddie scrambled to grab his jacket from the corner and cover you up with it.

“Yeah, looks like they’re doing just fine,” one of the men announced as they broke out in surprised laughter.

[luludeluluramblings]

The Tape

Reader and Conner’s sex tape gets leaked…

Based on this…

Warning: Fem!Reader, NSFW themes, no actual smut, pure crack nonsense, fake Twitter post

A/N: @fanfictionlover277353 Heard you wanted some more! Here’s some of my nonsense!

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

"Come on, Babs. Please. I'm begging. Just for a few hours. Two tops." Dick's whining could be heard through out the entire cave. The vibrato of his voice echoing off the rocky walls and stalagmites as he leaned over Barbara's shoulder and played with her hair.

She was currently sitting at the Bat Computer, looking over anything related to the family or incidents in Gotham with strained eyes and an exasperated look on her face.

"I told you, I'm busy-"

"You need a break." Dick interrupted, playing the hypocrite with a grin. "Come on, two hours. We'll watch a movie, you can even pick. No sappy Rom-coms, anything you want. All your choice." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Admittedly, Barbara was tempted, but she let out an indulgent sigh.

"Fine. I'll set up notifications to alert me if anything that needs to get scrub gets posted." She quickly type out a few things on to the computer, having it connected to her phone before Dick whisked her off with way too much excitement.

It was a simple notification system. One that would alert her if anyone's vigilantes identities were mentioned in the media. Unfortunately, it wasn't set up to alert her if anyone's civilian identities were mentioned. That included the family's only civilian member as well.

And, a lot can happen in two hours with the power of the internet and a very interesting topic.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You were having a good day. A very nice day. You had gone out into the world, enjoying the sights and sounds of a mid-morning Gotham. Ignoring the wailing sirens in the distance, by now you had grown used to it.

Dick, Babs, and Alfred where in the manor doing either Bat stuff or sleeping. Damian was visiting Jon. Duke was on patrol. Cass was at dance practice. Bruce was at the Watchtower. Tim was at the Wayne office. Stephanie was your chaperone (stalker) of the day. And, Jason was fuck who knows where.

A peaceful, calm day.

Until you got a Twitter notification and you realized...

"Oh, that's not good. That is really not good." You mutter, watching as the internet burns while you drink your coffee. Not like you could do much else. You still sent a quick text to Conner, just to prepare him while you mentally packed.

You warned him when he suggested filming the two of you making love in the Wayne manor parlor right in front of the fireplace.

You had suggested you’d both go to the mountains and fuck in the wild, but he just had to be kinky and want to do it in the manor. Better lighting he said.

If it wasn’t for the fact that it had been your anniversary and he had pulled out all the stops, you would’ve said no. (It doesn’t matter that he had you literally crying from the pleasure when the two of you had finally finished filming. Nope. Not at all.)

However, that mountain sex might still be on the table. You didn't want to be around when the rest of the family saw that video, so a remote location in the mountains sounded like a decent idea. You’d been wanting to runaway from the manor for a while anyway.

“Hey, Steph, hand me your phone real quick…” Best to probably by yourself some time.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Conner had a tendency to mute his notification on all his socials. Not that he didn't look at what people tagged him in or mentioned him in. He just find it easier to manage.

So when he got a text from you saying to check Twitter, he was a bit puzzled. But, he figured you had seen him tagged in something funny and wanted him to see it too.

Only for the record in his head to scratch when he realized what he had been tagged in.

"SHIT! Shit, shit, shit, shit." Could he get off planet fast enough? This was bad. Not the video. That was good. He may have thrown extra fuel on the fire by liking it and retweeting it on to his official account, but, damn it, was he proud of that. Probably shouldn’t have hired that rando to edit it for him though.

But, yeah, he was about to possibly be the only man ever murdered in cold blood by Batman. It was one thing to fuck his civilian daughter, but filming it in the man’s own home? Yeah, the kryptonite was definitely coming out and getting stabbed into his skull.

"JON! Distract Damian!" Conner yelled out before taking off, knowing that Jon's super hearing would pick up it up. Best get to Gotham and grab you before Batman came after his ass.

There was a nice planet a few solar systems over that you two could have some fun on. Maybe if he was lucky, you could visit that spot in front of the fireplace on last time. He doubted the two of you would get another chance to do it there again.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Jason had actually been at Roy’s that day, having finished some Outlaw business from the night before. Only to be interrupted when Roy suddenly choked on his drink and sprayed it all over him from across the table. Soaking Jason and the papers on said table.

“What the fuck?” He muttered in disgust whipping the dripping liquid off him.

Roy, however, was still choking. Wheezing as he clutched his phone like it was the most precious thing in existence.

“Nothing! Nothing!” Instantly, Roy was trying to back the video up the Cloud and his back up phone. He’s paid for porn with less quality than this and he was not wasting this opportunity before it was scrubbed from the internet.

“Let me see that.” Jason pushed the table and slammed it into Roy’s gut, causing the phone to clatter on to it. A video silently playing on the screen.

A video of two people in a fancy parlor. Doing very intimate things.

Two people Jason knew. In a fancy parlor that Jason knew.

A parlor that Jason had literally sat in three days ago watching the fire in the exact same fireplace.

“Did you fucking save this, asshole?”

“Dude, that is ART!”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Back in the BatCave Alfred had come down to tidy up after resting a bit only to look at the screen in horror. Despite his many skills, socially media escaped him at times.

However he did manage to learn one thing…

“That was what was on my bloody carpet?!”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Tim had been in his office, going over a couple charts when his secretary burst into the room. Stumbling and falling on the floor panting. One of her heels broken.

Normally she was a serious and composed woman, not tolerating any nonsense from him. So this behavior was unexpected and worrisome.

Tim rushed to stand up at help her when she suddenly blurted out, “Leaked sex tape!”

That made him panic. Before confusion hit him.

“Wait, did I film on of those? I don’t remember filming one of those-“

“Your sister! Superboy! PR is going fucking nuts and getting calls. Share prices are fucking increasing because of this!”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

The Justice League Watchtower was in a meeting. Quite a long one judging by the way most of it’s members sitting around the table seemed to be drifting off or subtly scrolling their phones.

Oliver Queen, Green Arrow was one of those people scrolling. Checking over twitter, catching up on the latest gossip. Only to nearly fucking scream in the middle of the meeting when he realized what Superboy had shared on his official account.

Forget man of steel, the kid has damn balls of steel.

Worst yet, the video had been posted for over an hour. A full hour. Almost two. There was no way that was going to be getting scrubbed and forgotten. He’d bet it was in a military archive already with a team of scientist documenting the half-Kryptonian’s dick size right now.

It was an impressively long video. One that Oliver was sorely tempted to watch. But, he didn’t because he knew Batman would actually rearrange his face if he did. Like fist and plastic surgery rearrange it.

So, when he heard Batman’s voice ring out in the meeting, he broke his phone in half to hide the evidence of his discovery.

Only, Batman hadn’t been calling for his attention. He was calling for Booster Gold’s.

“Booster, focus on the meeting. Put that away—“

It was amusing to see Booster get caught with his phone out watching him scramble to shut it off in a panic. Only for it to fall to the ground.

And, the sound to turn on at full volume.

Moans to fill the silent void of the room.

Oliver could only look on in horror when he realized just what Booster had been watching, during a Justice League meeting, and across the table from Batman himself.

“Conner, please, p-please, stop teasing.”

“No, I don’t think I will. You look so pretty like this. All nice and—“

No one moved. Not as they watched Batman literally work through every emotion under that cowl of his and Superman’s face went as white as it possibly could, anguish washing over both their faces when they realized who was in the video booster was watching.

Diana was the only one that stood up and moved to pick up the phone. Everyone held their breaths when she slowly looked down at the screen.

“Quite impressive. You both must be proud.” She said with a slight hum.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I apologize so much for this, but I just was cackling the entire time I came up with this and wrote it. Forgive me y’all! 🙏🏻

A/N: All the Twitter stuff was randomly generated and picked! I’m not good with it, but I added it for giggles!

[arolesbianism]

Ok but if we ever get playable Charlie I will be in absolute shambles because you just Know I would rush to read all her quotes and be emotionally destroyed by some mundane shit

[badathumanemotions]

My Little Vampire

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader Happy Halloween! MDNI Masterlist Category: Smut CW: Smut, Biting Kink, Bite Marks, Oral Sex (m rec), Vaginal Sex, Riding, No Protection, Aftercare/First Aid. WC: 3,268 It's Halloween Eve, Spencer is running around worrying about making sure everything is perfect. You need a way to wear him out. (Not Proof Read)

"Seriously, you can't see the difference between these two shades of red?" Spencer held up two almost identical pieces of cloth to the light, his eyes squinting with intensity. His glasses perched on the tip of his nose, and the smudges on the glass only added to the endearing chaos of the moment. It was Halloween eve, and the living room of your shared home had been transformed into a whirlwind of cardboard skeletons, cobwebs, and plastic pumpkins.

You couldn't help but smile, watching him from the couch where you were lounging. Spencer's costume was sprawled out in front of him—a meticulously crafted Sherlock Holmes outfit, complete with a deerstalker hat and an intricately tied cravat.

"I'm pretty sure the trick-or-treaters will be more concerned with the candy than the decor, Spence" you teased, sipping on a cup of spiced cider that warmed your throat with its sweet taste.

Spencer looked over his shoulder at you, his eyes wide with feigned innocence. "But what if they're not? What if they judge us based on our aesthetic commitment to the holiday?" His voice was light, but you knew the underlying stress was real. Spencer was not one to leave anything to chance, especially when it came to Halloween.

You set the cider down on the side table and padded over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "They're going to love it, and if they don't, well, we'll just have to eat all this extra candy ourselves," you whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. He rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

His dedication to Halloween was admirable, adorable, and something you loved him for. But you knew he could get too wrapped up in the details, so you had to come up with a way to get him to relax. An idea struck you, one that was sure to get his mind off the decorations. You stepped back and looked him over, your eyes lingering on the soft skin of his neck.

"You know what, Spence?" you said, your voice dropping to a seductive murmur. "I think I have the perfect way to distract you." You took his hand and led him away from the chaos, into the bedroom.

Once inside, you closed the door firmly behind you, cutting off the sounds of the TV playing a classic horror movie in the living room. Spencer looked at you questioningly, his eyes glancing at the bed and then back at you. You smirked, walking closer to him and standing on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear.

"You're so adorable when you're all worked up like this," you murmured, your breath warm and tickling the skin of his neck. "It makes me want to just… bite you."

Spencer's eyes widened in surprise, but before he could react, your teeth sank gently into the meat of his shoulder, just enough to leave a faint pink mark. He gasped, his body tensing for a moment before melting into your touch. You felt his pulse quicken beneath your teeth, and the sweet taste of his skin filled your mouth. It was a sensation you couldn't resist, a kink that had grown between you, a secret thrill that added spice to your relationship. You pulled back and admired the small mark you had left, feeling a sense of possessiveness wash over you.

He looked at you with a mix of shock and excitement, his cheeks flushing. "You're incorrigible," he murmured, but his voice was laced with desire. You stepped closer, your body pressing against his, and his eyes darkened with lust. You knew that look, the one that said he was ready to give in to whatever game you had in mind.

Spencer lifted his arms slightly, allowing you to help him out of his shirt. You took your time, your hands lingering on his shoulders before sliding down to his biceps. The fabric of the shirt whispered against his skin as you revealed his chest. You couldn't help but trace your fingers over his torso, feeling the muscles tense and relax beneath your touch. He had a lean, almost delicate build, but you knew from experience that he was stronger than he looked.

With the shirt discarded on the floor, you stepped closer, your chest brushing against his. You leaned in and kissed him, your teeth grazing his bottom lip. He gasped, and you took the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth, tasting the sweetness of his candy sweetened breath. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, his fingers digging in.

You could feel the heat building between you, the electricity of your bodies touching sending sparks through the air. Spencer's hand began to wander, tracing a line down your back before coming to rest on the swell of your ass. You moaned into his mouth, feeling his desire against your thigh.

Breaking the kiss, you stepped back and began to strip off your own clothing. He watched, his breath hitching as you revealed your skin inch by inch. Your eyes locked on his, you slowly removed your shirt, revealing a bra that matched your panties. His gaze was hungry, and you felt a thrill of power knowing that you had such an effect on him.

"You know I love it when you're like this," Spencer said, his voice coming out hoarse.

You smirked and took a step closer, allowing your fingertips to dance along the waistband of your jeans. "I know you do," you purred. "And I love leaving my mark on you."

With deliberate slowness, you unzipped your jeans and pushed them down, revealing the matching panties. His gaze was like a physical touch, making you shiver with anticipation. You stepped out of the jeans and kicked them aside, leaving you in just your bra and panties.

Spencer's eyes were glued to your every move, his pupils dilated with desire. You reached behind you and unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor. His breath hitched as your breasts were freed, and his hands followed the path your own had taken, tracing the curves of your body. You stepped closer, pressing yourself against him.

His thumbs brushed over your nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from you. You leaned into his touch, your head tilting back as the sensation rippled through you. Spencer took the opportunity to kiss your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh.

"I need you," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. Spencer's eyes met yours, and in them, you saw the same raw need reflected.

He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss that made you whimper. His hands roamed your body, his touch leaving a trail of fire wherever it went. You felt his fingers tug at your panties, and you stepped out of them eagerly. His own clothes were off as you both sank onto the bed, a tangle of limbs.

Straddling him, you ran your nails lightly down his torso, feeling the muscles quiver beneath your touch. You loved the power dynamic here, the way he looked up at you, eyes filled with hunger. You decided on his collarbone, a spot that always made him squirm. You leaned in, your teeth scraping gently against his skin. He arched his neck, offering himself up to you. You took a deep breath, savouring the moment before you bit down.

Spencer's moan was caught in his throat, his hands fisting in the sheets as you marked him. The sensation of your teeth sinking into his skin was intoxicating, causing him a heady mix of pain and pleasure that made you wet. You released him, watching the reddened skin slowly rise back into place.

With a seductive smile, you began to grind your pussy against his cock, feeling the heat and hardness of him against your slick flesh. You were already soaking wet, and the friction made sparks of pleasure shoot through you. You felt his cock twitch and knew he was just as turned on as you were.

Spencer's eyes fluttered closed, and you took that moment to lean down and begin marking his chest with love bites. You started at the base of his neck, working your way down to his collarbones, leaving a trail of pink marks in your wake. He squirmed beneath you, his moans growing louder with each bite.

As you got lower, you made the marks darker, your teeth pressing a little harder, leaving behind small, purple bruises. You knew he liked the feeling of your teeth on him, the way it made him feel claimed and desired. You traced your way down to his nipples, flicking them with your tongue before giving them a gentle nip. He gasped, his body arching off the bed.

You continued to explore his torso with your mouth, leaving a constellation of marks. Each bite was a declaration of your love and lust, a brand that was uniquely yours. When you reached his navel, you paused, looking up at him. Spencer's eyes met yours, and he nodded, giving you the silent permission to continue.

With renewed fervour, you trailed downwards, making the marks darker and more pronounced. Each one a testament to the passion that surged between you, a visual representation of the intensity of your desire. By the time you reached his hipbones, you had created a canvas of love bites that stood out starkly against the pale landscape of his skin.

Then, you found a particularly sensitive spot on his right hipbone. You bit down hard, your teeth sinking in just enough to elicit a sharp gasp from Spencer. His body jolted, and his cock jumped. The sight made your own arousal spike, and you felt a rush of wetness between your thighs.

You trailed down to his cock, being gentle, kissing and licking it. Your teeth grazed the sensitive skin, and he moaned, his hips moving slightly as if begging for more. You teased the tip with your tongue before taking him fully into your mouth, feeling his length fill your mouth.

You held back, using just enough pressure to drive him wild. Spencer's hands found your hair, his fingers threading through the strands as he tried to guide you, but you resisted, keeping the pace slow and deliberate. His hips bucked upward, trying to increase the tempo, but you remained unfazed, continuing your slow, torturous exploration of his body.

The tension grew palpable, a silent battle of wills as you teased him with your teeth and tongue. You felt him growing more and more desperate, his breaths coming in harsh gasps, his body straining against yours. You watched his face, the way his eyes squeezed shut tight and his brow furrowed with need. Each moan that slipped from his lips was music to your ears, and you felt a thrill of power knowing you could elicit such a reaction from him.

With a wicked smile, you released his cock and slid your hand down to fondle his balls. They were warm and heavy in your palm, and you began to massage them gently, keeping the pace slow and languid to match the rhythm of your kisses. You felt him tense, his thighs flexing, but you didn't relent. You enjoyed watching the way his body responded to your touch, the way his hips rolled slightly as he tried to push into your hand.

You took his cock back into your mouth, your teeth scraping along the shaft before you took him deep again. Spencer's eyes rolled back in his head, and his fingers tightened in your hair. You swirled your tongue around the tip before pulling away, licking up the pre-cum that had gathered there.

With a smirk, you kissed along the length of his shaft, feeling him pulse against your lips. You knew he was close, his body wound tight as a spring. But you weren't ready for this to end yet. You took his balls in your mouth, one at a time, sucking gently before releasing them with a soft pop. His thighs tensed, and he moaned, his hips jerking upward.

Spencer had reached his breaking point. "Please," he groaned, his voice filled with need. "I can't take it anymore. I need you."

You chuckled, loving the way he squirmed beneath you. But you knew when to give in. You positioned yourself over him, aligning your wet cunt with his erect cock. His eyes widened, and you felt his entire body go taut with anticipation as you sank down, taking him inch by inch.

With a gasp, you sat down fully on his length, feeling him fill you up. Spencer's eyes rolled back in his head, and he let out a strangled moan. You didn't waste any time starting up a brutal pace, bouncing up and down on his cock with a ferocity that had him seeing stars. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you, his breath coming in harsh pants as he matched your rhythm.

He bent his knees, trying to get leverage to fuck up into you. The bed frame creaked under the force of his movements, and the headboard thudded against the wall with each thrust. You leaned back, giving him better access, and he took full advantage, slamming into you with an urgency that was almost animalistic. Your breasts bounced with the motion, and you watched as he stared, transfixed by the sight.

It was as if he was channelling all of his anxious energy into fucking you, and it was the most intense experience you had ever shared with him. His eyes were glued to where your bodies were joined, watching as your juices coated his cock with each deep plunge. You could see the fascination in his gaze as he observed the way your pussy lips gripped him, as if he was trying to burn the image into his brain.

Leaning forward, you moaned, the new angle causing your clit to grind against his pelvis. Sparks shot through you, and you threw your head back, the sound of your pleasure echoing in the room. Spencer's eyes snapped to yours, and the look of pure lust in them sent a shiver down your spine. He took the opportunity to lean up and kiss you, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he bit down, hard enough to make you groan.

The pain was delicious, and you ground down harder on him, feeling the sparks of pleasure intensify. His cock hit you just right, and you felt yourself approaching the edge. Spencer's hands found your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples as you rode him with abandon. You could feel your orgasm building, a pressure that was almost painful in its intensity.

"Fuck, yes," you hissed, your nails digging into his skin as the pleasure built up. Spencer's eyes were locked on yours, watching the play of emotions that danced across your face as you got closer to the edge. The way he studied you was both thrilling and a little intimidating, but it only served to push you closer to the brink.

And then it struck you. You let out a scream, your body convulsing around him. In that moment of pure ecstasy, your teeth sank deeper into his skin than ever before. You hadn't meant to bite down so hard, but the sensation of your teeth breaking the barrier was like a lightning bolt of pleasure that shot straight to your core.

Spencer's eyes went wide, his own orgasm hitting him like a freight train. The sudden, intense pain mixed with the pleasure was a cocktail that sent him spiralling over the edge. He roared, his body spasming as he came, filling you with his hot release. You felt his cock pulse within you, the sensation sending your own orgasm into overdrive.

You collapsed onto him, your teeth still latched onto his skin, your body trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure. Spencer's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he panted beneath you.

Slowly, you pulled back, looking down at the dark mark on his shoulder. You felt a twinge of guilt—you hadn't meant to bite so hard—but the desire in his eyes told you all you needed to know. He loved it. You kissed the bruised skin gently, tasting the faint metallic tang of his blood.

The moment you could feel your legs again, you were dragging him into the bathroom, adrenaline still pulsing through your veins. You grabbed the first aid kit from the shelf, your hand shaking slightly with the aftermath of pleasure and the sudden rush of worry. Spencer followed, a slightly dazed smile on his face.

In the mirror, his body was a canvas of your love, each mark a story of the passionate moments you had shared. But his gaze kept being drawn to the deep purple bruise on his shoulder, a stark reminder of the intensity of your desire. The sight of it made him shiver with a mix of pain and pleasure. He traced the outline with his fingertips, the tenderness of his touch making his cock stir.

You rummaged through the first aid kit with trembling hands, your heart still racing from the intense climax. Spencer watched you, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. You found what you needed: alcohol wipes, a tube of antibiotic ointment, and a small bandage. You turned to him, a look of concern etched on your face. "Let me take care of it," you whispered, your voice filled with tenderness.

He offered his shoulder without a word, his eyes half-closed and a sleepy smile playing on his lips. His skin was flushed from the passionate encounter, and he was so soft and pliable after his orgasm that he could only give you a sleepy grin in response. You carefully cleaned the bite, watching the skin around it redden and then pale as the alcohol stung. He hissed but didn't pull away.

"It's okay," you soothed, your voice gentle as you applied the ointment, hissing a little as the coldness of it hit the sensitive skin. His eyes fluttered shut, and you placed a gentle kiss beside the bruise. "All better," you murmured, pressing the bandage over the mark. Spencer's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and you felt his cock, still half-hard, against your stomach.

"You're still worried," he whispered, his voice a low rumble. You nodded, unable to find the words. He leaned down to kiss you, his tongue delving into your mouth. "I liked it," he assured you, his voice husky. "I liked it a lot."

You pulled back, looking into his eyes. "You're not just saying that?"

Spencer's smile grew. "No, I'm not. I love how passionate you are." He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "You're my little vampire," he whispered, his voice filled with affection. You couldn't help but chuckle, the tension you were hold dissipating.

You both cleaned up and slipped back into the bedroom, the smell of sex lingering in the air. Spencer lay back down on the bed, his chest rising and falling with deep, contented breaths. You lay beside him, gently running your fingers over his chest.

As the clock struck midnight, Spencer opened his eyes and turned to you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Happy Halloween," he murmured, pulling you into his arms. The warmth of his embrace was a comforting cocoon, and you snuggled closer.

"Happy Halloween," you sleepily reply.

[surielstea]

Cancelled Plans

Based on this request.

Pairing: Modern!Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: In an attempt to get over her foolish crush on her roommate Azriel, Reader schedules a date with someone else but Azriel gets awfully clingy when she tries to leave.

Warnings: Smut | minors dni | fingering | teasing | oral (f receiving) | answering a call while receiving oral so semi public (?) | jealous Az

5.1k words

My dazzling black dress looked as if it was made for me specifically. The way it hugged every dip and curve, flared in all the right places. It was beyond just flattering, it made me look angelic yet sinful at the same time.

I spot Azriel on the couch when I enter the sitting room, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he reads from a novel with a worn cover that I've seen him reread a multitude of times.

He flicks his eyes up from his overused book to glance at me, then returns to his page. Then he visibly freezes and looks back to me, needing a double take to make sure what he saw registered correctly. He snapped his book shut when I flashed him a beaming smile.

"Where are you going?" He immediately interrogated, sitting up from his position.

I do a small twirl, showing off. "I have a date," I shrug and he stands, brows lowered. It was always hard to read my roommate's expressions but he had clearly been distraught at the information I gave him. "What? Don't think I'm capable of having anyone interested in me?" I joke and he narrows his eyes at me conspicuously.

"Just confused as to who you think deserves to see you dressed like this," His eyes rake down my figure, dropping all the way to my heels that wrapped up my ankles, slowly moving up the slit in the side of the dress that exposed most of my thigh, my waist, my chest, lingering at the cleavage there for a moment, then finally back up to my eyes.

"It's none of your business," I cross my arms and he tilts his head, unimpressed. I swore he could read me like the pages of his favorite book. "Okay fine," I fold beneath his piercing gaze. "I'm going to dinner with a guy named Nelm and he's super nice so don't—" He doesn't let me finish as he cuts me off with a sudden laugh and I flush in embarrassment. "He's nice, Az," I defend while he suppresses the rest of his laugh, resulting in a thin-lipped smile.

"Nelm cannot be a real name," He says like he refused to even fathom the idea of it.

"Well it is, and I'm going to be late so if you'll excuse me," I spin on my heel, away from him and towards the front door.

"You promised yesterday we'd watch a horror movie tonight," He croons in a sing-song tone that makes me cast a glance back to him with a guilty frown.

"I'll be back later tonight, we'll watch it then," I say, reaching for the doorknob but being mentally stopped by the feeling of something being lost. "Forgetting something?" Azriel hums, holding up my purse, the strap dangling from his finger tauntingly. I groaned, looking at the male.

"Give it." I sigh.

"Try and take it," He shrugs, holding the purse up above his head while taking three long strides forward and closing the distance between us. I look up at him with cold eyes which he only smiles at whilst I silently curse his tall height.

"Az, c'mon I'm going to be late," I claim and he only smirks at the idea.

"Late to what?" Cassian's familiar voice asks from the other side of the room and I jump, looking past Azriel and to my other roommate who was coming down the hallway shirtless, Nesta beside him, appearing to be wearing nothing but his stolen shirt. She practically lived here as much as the rest of us so I didn't bat an eye at the sharp-featured female.

"Great, let's get everyone involved in my love life," I murmur sarcastically while Azriel turns sideways to face both me and his brother.

"She's going on a date with some guy named Nelm," He explains and I glare up at him.

"Horrible name," Nesta mumbles as she enters the kitchen, Cassian trailing behind her.

"He's making it sound worse than it is," I claim and Azriel looks down at me pointedly.

"I only told them what you told me, it's your mind making it seem worse than it is," Azriel retorts and I clamp my mouth shut, knowing he was right.

"Well he's kind, and he's taking me to dinner," I look to Cassian and Nesta like I was someone on trial and they were the jury. "And I'm going to be late, so give me my purse," I take my gaze back to Azriel.

"I don't want to," He shrugs. We pause for a moment at the heaviness that sentence holds. Earlier he had made a taunting game of it, but now he simply just didn’t want me to leave, not for fun, but because he wanted me to stay and watch a stupid scary movie with him.

I was trying to get over him with this date, move on from my ridiculous crush and he was making it awfully difficult. It didn't help that we've made out a couple of times in a few desperate moments while we were both at our lows. But it was never more than lips, always just kissing, we made that line clear and we've both been walking along it for too long.

Nevertheless, my crush wasn't going away, and having it on my roommate of all people was not fun, especially when I saw him walk around shirtless, or roaming the house after showering with a towel loosely wrapped around his hips, hair still dripping water down onto his abdomen—

"How'd you even meet this guy anyway?" Cassian tore me from my straying imagination. Azriel and I both whip our heads towards him.

"Mor set us up," I shrug with a bashful expression.

"Oh," Cassian grimaced, Azriel matching his look of disgust.

"What?" I scowl at both of them, confused as to what's so wrong with that.

"Well Mor playing Cupid is similar to her solstice presents," Cassian attempts to explain.

"She means well, but the outcome is always, laughable," Azriel expands and I frown, looking to the floor in slight defeat, wondering how I would tear myself from this one. I huff and look back at the two males.

"Well he's not laughable, and it's just one date. I think I'll manage," I argue, waving Cassian off. Nesta pulls at his arm and he nods, following her back down the hall.

"Right, good luck then," He calls back and I smile in triumph, bringing my gaze back up to Azriel.

He stares down at me for a moment, mirroring my stubbornness with his pointed look.

"Alright, fine," He sighs, lowering my purse and placing it in my outstretched hands with a tentativeness I nearly didn't catch.

"Thank you," I reach for the doorknob, but I turn back to him for a moment before opening the door, my eyes lingering on pools of hazel.

"Have fun," He shoos and I offer him a grateful smile. "I'm sorry I made you late to dinner with your dad," He added beneath his breath and my smile dropped into a glare.

"It's a date, Azriel. I have a date," I restate but his smirk doesn't falter.

He looks to the door behind me, to my hand on the knob, then back to my eyes, as if anticipating my leave, but I didn't make the move. To be honest I'd much rather stay here and watch that horror movie I promised him than go to dinner with a guy named Nelm.

"Right, a date," He nods, crossing his arms, still waiting for me to take my departure.

"I know the concept of asking a girl out is foreign to you, but I think you can grasp it," I taunt and he chuckles, the amused sound making my stomach flip.

"I know how to ask a girl out," He claims and I smirk, because perhaps prodding his fragile ego was much more fun than any old dinner date.

"I don't believe you," My hand leaves the doorknob only to cross my arms over my chest and his smile widens.

"Yeah?" He leans against the door, indicating that I won't be leaving any time soon now that his weight is pressed against it. I nod. "Do you want to get dinner with me instead of a guy named Nelm?" He tilted his head and I swallowed thickly. Was he genuinely asking me out or just continuing this game I started? "Or we could watch that movie you promised me?" He proposed and my cheeks flushed pink.

"Yes," I blurt out and his brows raise a fraction in both shock and amusement. Gods this was embarrassing.

"Yes to dinner, or to the movie?" He tilts his head, his smirk widening.

"Would you think less of me if I blew off my date just to watch a horror movie with you?" I say, my voice just above a whisper.

"Never." He grabs my hand and pulls me away from the front door, towards the couch.

"Wait I have to change." I pull away from his grasp.

"But you look pretty," He grabs my purse, holding me back from leaving yet again.

"But I'm uncomfortable," I groan but he only tugs at my purse and pulls me closer.

"Just take it off, I won't watch," He closes his eyes and turns his head away from me.

"I'm not stripping down just because you're clingy," I huff and he opens one eye, looking at me with a scrunched nose, his stubbornness outmatched.

"Here." He grabs the hem of his shirt and takes it off with ease, leaving his chest bare.

"You can wear mine," He tosses the fabric at me. I sigh and place the shirt down on the couch.

"All because you want to see me naked," I mumble, dropping my hold on the purse and he sets himself on the couch, closing his eyes just as he promised.

I turn around anyway, unzipping my dress from the side and shrugging it off, allowing it to dip from my shoulders and then pool at the floor.

"Uh, can you hand me your shirt," I murmur, afraid to turn around.

"You were going to let a guy named Nelm see you in that?" He said and I whirled around, staring at him with wide eyes.

"You said you'd shut your eyes!" I grab the shirt in his hands.

"Forget the dress, no one deserves to see you in this," He ignored my exclamation and grabbed me by the backs of my thighs, and pulled me closer, staring up at me in my black lingerie that fit me just as well as my dress.

"You weren't going to let some other guy see you in this were you?" He questions with a certain possessiveness to his voice as I shrug the shirt on, pulling it over my head. Then down past my hips.

"Why does it matter? I'm not going anymore anyways." I plop on the couch beside him, crossing my arms over my chest defensively.

"No," He smiles. "You're not."

"Just start the movie." I swing my feet over his lap and he does as says, letting the TV play while dimming the lights.

I still felt exposed despite Azriel’s shirt loosely around my body. Gods, it smelt so strongly of him, and now he was left shirtless and it made me helpless.

I reached over and grabbed a blanket from the armrest, spreading it out over me while readjusting so I was lying down, my thighs now on Azriel's lap.

"You seem comfortable," He remarks, his tone clipped and I look at him with a glare, still upset he made me cancel my date. "Oh c'mon, you can't be mad at me forever," He sighs, leaning down so his bare chest was pressed to my back. "I know how much you love to cuddle," He croons, using my own weaknesses against me. "Besides, who's going to protect you when all the jump scares start to happen?" He suggests and a shiver ran down my spine at the thought.

I hated horror movies, Azriel always made me watch them since they were his favorite. The sadistic freak laughed whenever I jolted at a scary moment.

I pout, burrowing deeper into the throw pillow.

"Fine, but only if you cuddle me too," I offer and he smiles, laying down fully behind me, our legs tangling as his hand snakes around my waist and pulls me further into his chest. I smile at the feeling. How was I ever supposed to get over him while he was actively pressing me into him while I wore his shirt?

I distracted myself with the movie, but it was hard not to think about him while he stroked the side of my waist with his thumb, silently soothing me during tense parts of the movie.

I was in the middle of imaging how good it'd feel to lose the barrier of the shirt and have skin to skin contact when the killer appeared on screen all of a sudden and I jumped, my entire body tensing as I grabbed his hand that was tucked beneath my head and put it in front of my eyes.

"You're alright," He whispers, a slight amusement to his tone that reassured me. "You're fine," He hums, intertwining my hand with his and pulling them away from my line of sight.

I shiver at the feeling of his hand clasped in mine, how intimate it was in such a quiet moment like this. "You cold?" He asks his lips just beside my ear with the position we were in. I nod, using that as my excuse. "Yeah?" He purrs and I swallow thickly, clenching my legs together at all the lewd thoughts developing in my mind at the single word. I needed help.

I nod again and his hand on my waist dipped down beneath the blanket. I stopped breathing for a minute as he slipped his hand beneath the hem of my shirt, his palm rubbing up the side of my stomach, then returning to gripping my waist with his large, warm hand. "Better?" He whispers and I swore that time I could feel his lips against my ear. I fight back my need to mount him and simply nod instead.

"Mhm," I murmur, tightening my grip on his other hand.

Now that I could feel every twitch and movement of his hand I couldn't think of anything else. The movie didn't even scare me anymore, I was too entranced with him to focus on anything else. I wanted him to feel me everywhere. His calloused fingertips brushed against my soft skin, creating a friction I couldn't erase from my mind. I slowly grab his wrist with my free hand and boldly guide his grip upward, his fingers coming to my breast and cupping it in his hand.

He doesn't say anything, stays perfectly quiet as he gropes my breast in his hand and I let out a soft sigh, my hand in his tightening at the satisfying feeling.

He begins to massage my clothed breast in his hand, with little hesitation in his movements with the action and I respond to his touch by leaning into his chest, the curve of my ass pressing to his hips. He dips his head down, his lips meeting the crook of my shoulder.

His kisses trail up my neck then back down as quiet, soft sounds escape from the base of my throat and I prayed he couldn't hear them. His hand leaves my breast and mortification dawns over me. He was going to pull away, going to call me stupid for having a crush on him since he was my roommate.

But he didn't pull away and he still didn't speak. He just continued to lower his hand until it slipped beneath the blankets, and ever so slowly cupped my heat. I let out a soft gasp, clenching my legs shut.

"This alright love?" He purrs into the shell of my ear and I nod.

"Please," I mutter and he smiles into my neck at the desperation in my tone. He rubs his fingers through my folds, the cloth of my underwear doing nothing to keep his hands dry as my arousal seeps through and soaks him anyway. I clench around nothing at the sensation, his finger pads finding my clit and circling it harshly. I flip onto my back, looking up at him with pleading eyes and gripping his free hand with mine.

He smiles down at me, slowly pressing his fingers to my most sensitive area. "Please, Az," I murmur.

"Please what?" He taunts and I pout, not wanting to say it. But he doesn't waver.

"I want your fingers," I confess. "Inside of me, please Az," I finished and his smirk widened, leaning down and capturing my lips with his.

"Look at how nice you asked, was that so hard?" He hummed and I shook my head no. He grants me a smile as his fingers hook under my waistband and he tugs my panties off, bringing them down to my knees and I thrash them the rest of the way off.

He cups my bare heat in his hand and my breath hitched. He presses his lips to mine again. He could feel how much I wanted him I was so wet. "Az," I sigh out softly as his thumb pressed to my clit. I grind down onto his palm, needing more friction. He meets my silent request by beginning to dive two of his fingers through my folds, coating them in my slick and preparing them for entrance.

I let out a breathy mewl as he flicks his thumb over my clit in a particularly stimulating way, making my legs fall open wider. He admired this, humming against my lips and slipping his tongue inside as I opened my mouth to moan his name.

His fingers slowly come down to my entrance, tracing it dauntingly and I stifle a whine, needing him to fill me entirely. I kissed him hard instead of begging, allowing him to explore every expanse of my mouth as he ever so slowly pushed two of his fingers into my slit. I clenched around him at the feeling, how godly it felt when he rubbed against my elastic walls, stretching them on his hand as he began curling his fingers at just the right angle, pressing against that sensitive bundle of nerves nestled deep inside of me.

"There," I clench his other hand in mine, my nails digging into the back of his palm as he continues the lethal movements. I grit my teeth at how damned perfect it felt as he began to speed up, scissoring his fingers against it and creating an entirely new feeling.

Heat washed over me in waves, ebbing and flowing against me as my orgasm built, rapidly approaching.

"Azriel," I whimpered against his lips and he smirked.

"I love hearing my name moaned from your lips," He admitted, his fingers continuing to make a mess of me. "My pretty girl," He admired, his gaze finding mine. My brows creased at the name, and the possession that came with it.

"Yours," I whispered and he nodded, confirming it.

"All mine." He kissed my lips once more, his hand continuing its relentless pace as he flicked his fingers over that bundle, toying with it as I desperately chased my release.

His thumb returned to my clit, rubbing it harshly and I mewled, pulling away from his lips in favor of tilting my head back into the pillow, reveling in the heat running through my veins. "M'close," I warn in a soft tone and he presses a tender kiss to my cheek, then goes down to my jaw with a trail of the same gentleness.

"I know baby, go ahead, make a mess on my hand," He allows and can only obey, anything else would be downright masochistic.

I'm met with a white-hot pleasure that blinded me for longer than a moment, my eyes rolling back as my climax consumes me entirely, bringing both satisfaction and a craving for more simultaneously.

Once my body returns to its reality he removes his fingers from my cunt, now drenched with my dripping arousal. He smiles, bringing his hand up to his lips and licking up the wet expanse of his fingers, gathering my release on his tongue. He groaned as if the taste was revolutionary. "Gods, you're sweeter than I imagined," He confesses and my brows raise slightly.

"Imagined?" I pant out, still wrung from my intense orgasm.

He simply nods, flipping over me so he was settled between my bare thighs. "But I think I need to taste it firsthand," He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my sternum before beginning his descent, trailing delicate kisses down my stomach as he guides my legs over his shoulders, his head now trapped between my knees.

He rubs up and down my thighs, settling himself between them as he reaches the hood of my clit, dancing his tongue down it and without warning digging the pink muscle into my overstimulated clit.

I gasped, my hands going into his hair, grasping as he began kissing down my folds, soaking the lower half of his face. He wastes no time, eager to feel me writhe against his tongue.

I stare down at him in anticipation and he holds the eye contact. His hazel gaze was intense, so passion-filled that it gave me hope that this was more than just a one-time thing.

"Please," I mutter.

"Keep your eyes on me, alright love?" His breath was hot against my puffy pussy, it had been so distracting that I almost didn't hear what he said. But I nodded.

"Okay," I said shakily and before I knew it he leaned down, his lips meeting my entrance as his tongue entered my cunt with ease from him stretching me out with his fingers previously.

I gasped at the sensation, his tongue expertly flicking inside of me as he forced the impressive length of it inside of me.

"Az," I gripe, arching my back and digging my head into the pillows as I pull at his dark locks. He continues the wicked action against my core despite my thighs clamping around his head. He didn't seem to care if he lost oxygen, all he wanted was to taste me deeper and provide me more pleasure until I was finding release on his tongue alone.

I could barely breathe, my legs jolting as he continued his exquisite torture against my throbbing entrance.

"Azriel, right there—" My words are cut off by the familiar ringing of my phone, and it was easily compared to my alarm because it had taken me out of my dream. He looks up at me from between my thighs, his eyes glinting with devilry.

"Pick it up," He coos, and my brows bunch.

"Are you crazy?" I whisper shout at him as if the phone might understand me.

"For you," He purrs, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to my clit. I grip the cushion of the couch at the return of pleasure but the incessant ringing continues and it takes me right out of it again. "Pick it up, or I'll stop." He threatens and I glare at him but he's unwavering. I groan, stretching my arm out to the side and grabbing my purse off the coffee table.

I keep my glare pinned on him as I fish my phone out of the side pocket. The screen lights up with Nelm's contact and my eyes widen, I turn the phone towards Azriel, showing him that I could most definitely not pick this call up. He nods encouragingly and I shake my head rapidly, my brows creased. He begins to pull away from between my legs but I wrap my legs around his neck. "Fuck you," I grit out.

"I plan on it." He smirks against my heat while I bring my phone to my ear, and answer the call.

"Hey, what's up?" I try to mask my voice to be as casual as possible, despite my roommate being between my bare legs.

"Where are you? It's half past seven," He said, slightly irked but I was too busy looking down at Azriel to notice.

"Oh no, was our date tonight?" I gasp in faux shock and Azriel smiles, his eyes lighting with what I knew would be a horrible idea.

"Uh, yeah. I texted you yesterday making sure we were still on?" Nelm said through the other line and I gritted my teeth. I'm so fucked.

"Something came up and texting you slipped my mind—" My breath hitched as Azriel's lips joined with my cunt. I look down at him with panic, mouthing 'no' at him but he doesn't listen.

"Are you alright?" He asked and I felt guilty because he genuinely seemed worried for me.

"Oh— I'm fine just," I struggle to come up with an excuse while Azriel was fucking the thoughts out of me with his tongue.

"Just an emergency happ— happened with my, uhm my roommate," I choke out and Azriel just looks up at me innocently, his hands gripping my thighs as he rolls his long tongue inside of me at a certain spot and I have to fight a moan from slipping past my lips.

"Oh, alright well I can stick around for a while if you think you'll be able to make it?" Nelm suggests from the other end of the line and I curse myself for ever leading this poor guy on when I was clearly not ready for any serious relationship while actively living with my crush.

"I'm so sorry but maybe we can reschedule— fuck," My words turn into curses as Azriel bites at my sensitive clit, silently telling me that my chances of going out with anyone but him were never going to happen. He soothes the bite with the flat of his tongue, circling it directly after with tight, rough movements. I arch into his face, writing into the mattress as I fight my moans off.

"That's fine, when are you free?" Nelm asks and I grit my teeth, shoving my head into the pillows.

"Mm, you know what? I'll just, I can text you my schedule and— and gods, I, I'll let you know when I'm free," I voice, my tone coming off all too whiny as I let a few moans slip through.

"Okay, good luck with whatever your roommate's emergency is." He mumbles, a slight sourness to his tone but who wouldn't be upset after someone flaked on them?

"Yeah, thanks— bye," I grit through my teeth and quickly pull the phone from my ear and hang up the phone.

A loud moan immediately escapes from my throat as soon as the phone shuts off. I let it slip from my hand and fall to the floor absentmindedly as Azriel continues his cruel work at my clit.

I grab him by the hair and pull him away from my heat. "Why did you do that to me?" I pant out, my cheeks flushing with humiliation. He only grins, his lips coated in my slick as his dimples make an appearance.

"Had to show him what's mine," He says, his eyes dark as he leans down once more, flicking his tongue through my folds greedily.

"And I hate sharing," He confesses, diving back into my pussy, his lips sealing against my entrance as he continued fucking me with his tongue, flicking it in and out of me, alternating between my clit and entrance creating an overwhelming amount of stimulation. I pull at his hair and he delights in the pain. I clench my legs around him tighter and I didn't even get the chance to warn him before I teeter over that edge and cum on his tongue.

I pant out for air but it's lost on me as my second climax greets me, hitting me much harder than the last and threatening to knock me out. I swore my ears started ringing for a moment as my vision went fuzzy. Pleasure bloomed through me in the most intense way, still buzzing at my fingertips as he pulled away from my cunt and slowly kissed up my stomach, my sternum, my neck, all the way back to my lips and once he got there I regained all of my senses and enough energy to kiss him back.

His hand came up to my jaw, thumb stroking along it with a soft touch like I was the most precious thing in the world. He pulls away, looking down at me with a prideful smirk.

"My pretty girl." He admired and something in his gaze told me this was so much more than just a hookup.

"You were jealous," I say and he smirks, placing a soft kiss on my lips and allowing me to taste myself once more.

"Of course I was," He murmurs, pulling away less than an inch, his nose still brushing against mine. "But can you blame me?" He asked. "I can't just watch the girl I'm in love with go on a date with some asshole named Nelm," He grumbled and I discarded the insult towards the kind man, focusing on his confession. Heat stained my cheeks in slight shock.

"You're in love with me?" I murmur in slight shock and he shakes his head in disbelief.

"Ever since I can remember." He admits and a small smile spreads over my lips. "Sorry, if that scares you." His voice turns soft and I can't help but crumble in his hold.

"No, I'm in love with you too," I say slightly nervously, and dimples grace his features.

"Oh, thank god." He sighs then leans down and presses his lips to mine harshly, holding a level of confidence that wasn't there before.

"Why don't we take this to the bedroom?" He suggests as he pulls away and my grin widens, I wrap my hands around the back of his neck excitedly.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that," I hum, my legs wrapping around his hips.

"I think I have some idea," He says, his hips pressing into mine and at his words, I realize he's referring to his clothed bulge straining against his pants and rubbing against my folds. I flash a devilish smile.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

Comment a “💙” to be added to the General tag list.

Comment a “🖤” to be added to the Azriel tag list.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @cauldronboilme27 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @ireallywannasleep127 @cumuluscranium @adharanotfound @azrielsmate3 @aelincaddel @hiddlestonspassionsackx @dee-writes-smut @secretlyhers @pit-and-the-pen @mybestfriendmademe @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @circe143 @bubybubsters @joshysloshy @username199945 @notsarareallynot @vixenshiftsvrs @pey2618 @loving-and-dreaming @mahealanipunea @andreperez11 @thatacotargirl @123345566 @one-big-fangirl @moonslitluna

Azriel Taglist: @coolepowersthings @lovely-giggles @quiettuba @ilovewarner45 @judig92 @tothestarsandwhateverend @je-suis-prest-rachel @call-me-a-fool @brieflyclassymortal @cherryjain17

[l4mplight]

Miquella and Trina; A Tragedy

Hey Tumblr. I have a lot of thoughts about Shadow of the Erdtree, and these ones... let's just say I don't think they'd do well on Reddit. It's not often that I feel particularly impacted by a particular fictional character. Usually I connect more with narrative arcs and themes, which is why I think I'm so drawn to the ephemeral, vibes based storytelling of Fromsoft's games. Playing through SOTE, though, I found Miquella (and St Trina) to be extremely emotionally compelling and relatable, and I wasn't sure exactly why. I think I've put my finger on it now though. First of all, know that I am writing from the perspective that Miquella is a sympathetic character. I know that it's not uncommon to read him as a manipulative Machiavellian villain, but I think that's both a misreading of the text as well as just plain boring. Like, he's not a Griffith clone you guys, give From some credit. Anyway, here we go.

"You have no understanding. Of Miquella the Kind. Of St. Trina's Love.

Content Warning: I'll be discussing themes of depression, and the implication of suicidal ideation.

So, a classic Fromsoftware theme is despair, and the ways we cope with a world full of it. It shows up twice in Shadow of the Erdtree; with Midra and the Frenzied Flame, where despair leads to a selfish nihilism that asks us to burn everything down, and with Thiollier and St Trina, who offer sleep as a comfort to the weary. Running a small errand for Thiollier has him say the following.

"If you find yourself… weary of the weight of this life, then just give me the word. Sleep is a balm, and eternal sleep… is an elixir."

Drinking the elixir he offers will, of course, result in an instant death. This is our first encounter with the idea of "Eternal Sleep," a more potent form of the sleep status effect that only appears here in the Shadowlands, after St Trina has been abandoned. The Velvet Sword of St. Trina tells us as much: "Silver sword of St. Trina, now stained the color of velvet. Inflicts eternal sleep. When St. Trina was abandoned, the faint, light-purple mists coalesced into an intoxicating deep-purple cloud." In order to ascend to godhood, Miquella abandons first his physical body, and then the more abstract aspects of himself. As we begin to descend down the fissure where we'll find Trina, a cross marks the spot as the place where Miquella abandoned his love. This connects Trina, "the discarded half" as Thiollier puts it, with Miquella's love. Leda confirms this in her own dialogue:

"St. Trina's love for Kind Miquella is boundless. She is, after all, his other half. Or perhaps her feelings go beyond even that. Even if she was left behind, I doubt her heart would waver."

Keep that in mind, it'll be relevant later.

Near the cross, a spirit offers up some of the most heartbreaking dialogue I've come across so far. The spirit gives us a bigger picture of Miquella's goals:

"Kindly Miquella... I see you've thrown away... something you should not have. Under any circumstances. How will you salvation offer... to those who cannot be saved? When you could not even save your other self?"

I teared up at this. The emotional impacted was aided by the fact that I ran into the spirit right after telling Moore to put his past behind him, leading him to rededicate himself to Miquella. He says:

"Hm. Maybe that’s Kindly Miquella’s love. Love for all the unloved. Love, to banish the pain."

Note here that Moore suggest Miquella's love will "banish the pain." This is also essentially what Trina's sleep does. It's a comfort to those in need. Anyway, between these two instances, we end up with a pretty good picture of the sort of god Miquella wants to become. He was already sympathetic to the outcasts of The Lands Between in the basegame, where he built Elphael and the Haligtree as a haven for those rejected by the Golden Order, such as the Albinaurics and Misbegotten we find there. In the Shadowlands, he has gone a step further. Hornsent tells us that he has committed himself, in essence, to righting Marika's wrongs.

"Miquella has said as much himself – he wishes now to throw it all away. He says the act – though undoubtedly painful – will sear clean the Erdtree’s wanton sin. The truth of his claim can be found at each cross. 'Tis evidence enough to earn my belief."

Of all of Marika's children, Miquella is the only one to see the serious flaws in her empire. Ymir points this out to us as well.

"No matter our efforts, if the roots are rotten, then we have little recourse. Ever-Young Miquella saw things for what they were. He knew his bloodline was tainted, his roots mired in madness. A tragedy if there ever was one. That he would feel compelled to renounce everything when the blame lay squarely with the mother."

My thinking here is aligned with Mother Ymir. You really have to feel for Miquella; he has essentially taken on, alone, the responsibility of making up for centuries of Golden Order imperialism. That's a massive burden to bear, especially for Miquella, cursed with eternal childhood.

(It's easy to miss, but Miquella actually ages up significantly when we see him in god-form. Until he steps back through the Divine Gate, he would have looked and sounded like he does in the introductory art and in ending memory scene. Compare those with how he appears in the boss fight, and it's clear godhood at least helped him reach puberty lol) So we've established that Miquella is the child of Imperial Rome on Steroids, is cursed with eternal childhood, and is an empathetic prodigy with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Surely his mental state is perfectly healthy, right? Right??

Final warning, this is where things get quite sad. Here is where I will try to tie Miquella's arc together with Thiollier and St Trina, and the comforting oblivion and relief from despair that sleep represents for them.

As we search for St Trina, we descend down into the Stone Coffin Fissure. This is a place of death, with massive coffins built into the fissure walls, and Gravebirds, Bloodfiends and Putrescent enemies everywhere. St Trina is found at the deepest possible pit of this fissure, in a swamp of putrescence that has since blossomed into a garden of deep velvet lilies because of her influence. Trina offers us nectar of "eternal sleep," as Thiollier did previously, and as established then, "eternal sleep" is essentially nothing more than a peaceful death. Trina seems to fit in quite well in this place of ancient dead things, with some of the ancient remains even being compelled to fight for her in exchange for eternal rest, becoming the Putrescent Knight.

(Side note for levity because we're about to get sad again; I love this guy. It's a knight made out of the skeleton of a horse, riding on that same horse's decaying flesh goop body. Like, ugh. Beautiful. Plus, it may even have taken that shape because of Trina sharing Miquella's memories of Radahn, who was never far from his horse Leonard...)

We meet St Trina in her garden, and when we imbibe her nectar, we eventually begin to hear her voice in our death-dreams. She seems to pity him. Mourn for him, almost.

"Make Miquella stop... Don't turn the poor thing into a god..."

Trina appears to be in a bad state after her fall. She can only manage to get a few words across to us at once. Just as Leda predicted, her heart hasn't wavered. She is only concerned with Miquella's well-being.

"Godhood would be Miquella's prison. A caged divinity... is beyond saving."

Trina's most pressing concern is that godhood will be a prison for Miquella. Now, this could in theory be because gods are subject to manipulation from the Fingers and the Greater Will or a similar reason, but given that she calls him a "poor thing," I think there is likely a more emotional reason behind Trina's plea. I think that Trina is speaking as the embodiment of Miquella's love, but especially his ability to love and care for himself...

"You must kill Miquella... Grant him forgiveness."

...and she asks us to kill him.

In excising Trina from his being, I think Miquella also expelled the part of himself that was able to recognize how miserable divinity would be for him, and how miserable he was. The part of him that was tired of carrying the responsibilities that his compassion demanded of him. The part of him that was exhausted, despairing and desperate from having failed to cure Malenia, failed to save Godwyn, failed to perfect the Haligtree. St Trina is the part of Miquella that wanted to be stopped, to rest, to sleep, to die. In abandoning her as he does, Miquella is essentially repressing those thoughts and feelings, replacing them with more "selfless" ones; self-sacrifice, suffering on behalf of others, his martyrdom and apotheosis. I don't want to forget about "grant him forgiveness" either. She might mean forgiveness for failing to become a god, for not being good enough to succeed Marika and right her wrings. Maybe forgiveness for failing Malenia and Godwyn, or for leaving the Haligtree behind. Maybe even for abandoning her. But on the road to godhood, Miquella can't afford to indulge in this sort of self-pity. A child craves forgiveness and approval, a god must cast these things out.

"I'm feeling rather lost. Haunted by memories. Of St. Trina. Her visage. Her scent. The lure of velvety sleep. Would Kindly Miquella chasten me? For falling for St. Trina, while knowing that she was the discarded half? The problem is… I simply cannot help it. I would sacrifice everything, just to gaze upon her, one last time."

I want to mention Thiollier one more time here too. His primary visual motif is the long white braids that he wears on his clothes, reminiscent of Miquella and Trina's own signature braids (remember, she looked like an older feminine Miquella before her fall and injury). Thiollier is obsessed with Trina, pursuing her to hear her voice and fade into the comfort of her velvet sleep, though this doesn't kill him like it does us. I don't think Thiollier is connected to Miquella in any textual way, but I think he does serve as a reflection of the sorts of thoughts Miquella may have been surpressing. The self-pity, the need for approval and love, the feelings of weakness and uselessness. These are the things that lead Thiollier to pursue endless slumber.

Thiollier doesn't give in to that despair, however. Though he initially takes St. Trina's words... poorly, he eventually realizes what must be done, and dedicates himself to his new purpose: carrying out her final wish.

"I am here to serve St. Trina evermore. I am deeply sorry. For doubting you. I am here only to grant St. Trina's singular wish. I will stop Miquella the kind. He will never become a god."

This post is already quite long, but I also want to mention the obvious gender stuff going on here. There are a number of moments that make it seem as though St. Trina might actually be more than just "half" of Miquella. Firstly, as she is shown falling in the story trailer, Leda is describing how Miquella abandoned his fate, as if Trina had a vital role to play in Miquella's future. It also seems as though Trina isn't cursed in the same way that Miquella is; her voice and size indicate that she is at least more substantial than his "infant form," and she is depicted in "adult form, somewhat unnervingly" on the Torch of St. Trina. Furthermore, her "adult form" has a third eye in the middle of her forehead. The third eye is a symbol of enlightenment in both Hinduism and Buddhism; it seems that Trina has achieved some level of wholeness in this depiction. Meanwhile, when Miquella achieves godhood, his eyes remain permanently shut. He also appears to have only one physical arm. He holds Radahn with two incorporeal arms while casting with his real right arm, but his left arm appears to fade away to nothing before the elbow, as if unfinished. Miquella's blindness and asymmetry here, I think, reflect how unbalanced and incomplete his divinity is without Trina.

One more hint towards St Trina being a part of Miquella's future lies way back at the Haligtree. In Malenia's bossroom, just above where Miquella's cocoon was once embedded into the tree, the branches and roots appear to form a silhouette. This could be Miquella, Trina, or both, but I do see a certain resemblance to Trina's depiction on the torch in the way the "hair" covers the eyes. Given that Miquella's body appears to have grown a decent amount inside of the cocoon when we see in at Mohg's palace, it's possible that the cocoon situation was his original attempt to cure himself of his own curse, or perhaps become a part of the Haligtree itself. In the Shaman Village, Marika's home, there is a similar scene. A woman's body that resembles Marika seemingly mummified within the hollow of a tree. I honestly have no idea what to make of that just yet, but I thought it worth a mention.

So, with all that in mind, abandoning Trina seems to be even more significant. Not only has Miquella divested himself of his love and his fate, but maybe even his future, too. Being eternally nascent, he is always in a state of potential, after all. Am I suggesting that Miquella is a transfeminine character? That he was meant to grow up to become a goddess in the aspect of St. Trina, or maybe even more like Marika than he already is? Well, maybe. If you find it compelling, then absolutely. Fromsoftware's storytelling is always ambiguous, and is always design to leave us some room to read and interpret, to really play in the space we are given. Personally, I do find it compelling in a horribly tragic sort of way, fitting for the setting. It's also entirely possible that I have rather self-indulgently projected some of my own angst onto these character. I likely have, to be perfectly honest. It's rare that I really connect with a set of characters or a story like I have with this lot, and I hope that maybe some of you reading this will feel similarly. If you have read this far, thanks <3

[rootedinrevisions]

Texas Orange

SUMMARY: Heavily based on the song "Tennesse Orange" by Megan Moroney. You're in the early stages of your relationship with Glen and he takes you to a Texas football game with him.

**This was my first time writing about Glen himself and not one of his characters. I really loved the idea and the song that inspired this fic, however think I may stick to writing his characters instead of him as a person in the future. **

WARNINGS: None

WORD COUNT: 5.4k

The Texas sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm, golden light over the landscape as you and Glen drive through the winding roads of Austin. The truck hums steadily beneath you, the air conditioning a welcome relief from the sweltering heat outside.

You glance over at Glen, dressed in a black t-shirt with the orange Texas Longhorns symbol emblazoned on the chest, and a white Longhorns baseball cap turned backward on his head. His sunglasses shield his eyes from the bright light, and with one hand on the wheel, he holds your hand gently in the other. You glance over at him, and the corners of his mouth lift into a smile when he catches you looking at him.

"This is amazing," you say, taking in the sprawling hills and the way the cityscape rises in the distance. "I can't believe I've never been here before."

Glen chuckles, his voice low and smooth, the kind of sound that makes you feel instantly at ease. "I still can't believe that. Austin's pretty great. But, I mean, you grew up on the coast, right? Plenty of beauty there too."

You nod, your mind flashing back to memories of ocean breezes and sandy beaches, a world away from the vast, open skies of Texas. "Yeah, but it's different. I've never seen anything quite like this."

He grins, squeezing your hand gently. "You're gonna love it here. Plus, this is only the start. Wait till you see the stadium-it's a whole other world."

You laugh, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves bubble up inside you. "Speaking of the stadium, I've got to admit something. I've never actually been to a football game before. My family wasn't really into sports growing up."

Glen's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he quickly recovers with a teasing grin. "You've never been to a game? Well, that changes today. Texas football is like a religion around here. It's something you just have to experience.

"Hopefully I'll fit in okay," you say, half-joking. The thought of stepping into the massive stadium, surrounded by thousands of passionate fans, is both thrilling and a little daunting.

He chuckles, his voice warm with affection. "Don't worry, I'll be right there with you. We'll ease you into it. Plus, my folks are going to be so excited to meet you they're gonna forget about the game, at least for a minute."

The mention of his family makes your stomach flip. This is a big step, meeting his family, even if you've both been keeping things casual. There's a part of you that wonders if this trip is more than just a casual one for Glen.

"What are they like? Your family, I mean," you ask, trying to keep your tone light.

Glen's expression softens, a fond smile playing on his lips. "They're great. They'll love you, I promise. My mom might be a little overwhelming at first, but that's just because she cares so much. And my dad, well he's the quiet type, but once you get him talking about anything Texas-related, you won't be able to get him to stop."

You smile at the thought, feeling a bit more at ease. "They sound like a good bunch."

"They are," Glen says, his voice sincere. "And they're going to love you. How could they not?"

His words bring warmth to your chest, and you squeeze his hand in return. "I hope so."

As the two of you continue to drive further into Austin, Glen gives you a mini tour. He points out a few landmarks - his favorite taco place, the park where he used to hang out with friends, and a music venue where he once saw an incredible show. You listen, soaking in every detail, feeling a sense of connection to this place that Glen clearly loves so much.

"Here we are," Glen says as he pulls into a parking spot near the stadium. The massive structure looms ahead, a sea of burnt orange and white, alive with energy even from a distance.

You take a deep breath, a mixture of anticipation and nerves swirling inside you. "This is it, huh?"

"This is it," Glen confirms, turning to you with a smile that melts away any lingering doubts. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," you say, smiling back at him.

As you step out of Glen's truck, you notice that nearly everyone around you is decked out in burnt orange and white. Texas Longhorns hats, jerseys, and t-shirts, all show their pride. The sea of matching colors makes you acutely aware that you're the only one not wearing any team gear.

Glen steps around the truck to join you, noticing the way your eyes scan the crowd. He gives you a playful nudge with his elbow. "Feeling a little out of place?"

You laugh, shrugging slightly. "Just a bit. I think I missed the memo on the dress code."

Without missing a beat, Glen reaches up to the back of his head and pulls off the white Longhorns cap he's been wearing. He turns it around in his hands before stepping closer to you. "Here, you can wear this. Can't have you being the odd one out."

Before you can respond, he's already placing the cap on your head. His fingers brush against your hair as he adjusts the fit, making sure it sits just right. You tilt your head up at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "How do I look?"

Glen takes a step back to admire his work, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You look great in Orange. Might even say you wear it better than I do."

You roll your eyes playfully, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "You might be biased."

"Maybe," he says with a grin, his eyes sparkling with affection. "But I'm also right."

As you walk towards the section of the parking lot reserved for tailgating, Glen drapes an arm over your shoulders, keeping you close. "Tell you what, we'll hit up the merch stand once we're inside. Gotta get you a t-shirt to complete the look."

"You don't have to do that," you start to protest, but Glen shakes his head.

"I want to," he insists, squeezing your shoulder lightly. "Consider it part of the full Texas football experience."

You smile up at him, feeling more at ease with every step. "Alright, but only if you help me pick it out."

"Deal," Glen says, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple before leading you into the sea of orange and white.

The aroma of sizzling barbecue fills the air as you and Glen approach the tailgating area. Rows of trucks and RVs are lined up in the parking lot, each decked out in burnt orange. Flags bearing the Texas Longhorns logo flutter in the breeze, and the sounds of laughter, music, and clinking bottles create a festive atmosphere.

Glen leads you through the crowd with a confident stride, his hand securely holding yours. As you near a large, lively group gathered around a grill, Glen spots his family and friends.

"There they are," he says, nodding towards the group. "Ready to meet everyone?"

You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. "Ready as I'll ever be."

Glen gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as you approach the group. His mom, Cyndy, is the first to spot the two of you, and her face lights up with a welcoming smile. She's a petite woman with a warm demeanor, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she waves you over.

"There you are!" Cyndy calls out, pulling Glen into a quick hug before turning her attention to you. "And you must be the one we've been hearing so much about. I'm Cyndy, it's so nice to finally meet you!"

You return her smile, instantly feeling at ease with her friendly nature. "It's great to meet you too. Glen's told me a lot about you."

"Oh, I'm sure he has," Cyndy says with a wink before pulling you into a hug. "Welcome, sweetheart."

Next, Glen's dad, Glen Sr., steps forward with a firm handshake and a nod. He's tall and broad-shouldered, with a quiet strength about him. "Good to have you here," he says simply, but the warmth in his tone is unmistakable.

Then, Glen's sisters Lauren and Leslie, each take their turn to greet you. Lauren gives you a friendly smile. "You're braver than I would be, meeting the whole crew at once like this. They can be a handful, but you'll be fine."

Leslie nudges Glen playfully. "You didn't warn her about us, did you?"

Glen laughs, shaking his head. "I figured I'd let you all speak for yourselves."

As you exchange pleasantries, more of Glen's friends and extended family members join in, introducing themselves and welcoming you with open arms. Someone hands you a cold drink, and before you know it, you're standing around a grill piled high with burgers, sausages, and all the fixings, soaking in the pre-game atmosphere.

The conversation quickly turns to stories about Glen's past. A few of his college buddies, each with a beer in hand, are eager to share some of their favorite memories.

"Remember that time Glen tried to impress a girl by riding a mechanical bull at that honky-tonk?" One of them starts, a grin spreading across his face.

"Oh, I remember!" Another chimes in. "He was so confident, strutted right up there like he was gonna show everyone how it's done. Lasted about five seconds before he got thrown off and landed flat on his back."

The group erupts in laughter, and even Glen can't help but chuckle at the memory. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he says shaking his head. "At least I gave it a shot."

Cyndy leans in closer to you, a glint in her eye. "That's nothing compared to the time he and his sister decided to 'borrow' my car when they were kids. Thought they'd take a little joyride around the neighborhood...until they crashed it into a mailbox."

"Oh no!" You gasp, unable to suppress a laugh.

Lauren grins, shaking her head at the memory. "We were grounded for months. Glen thought he was so slick, but he didn't realize the mailbox he hit belonged to one of Dad's friends."

"Yep," Glen Sr adds with a rare smile, "and that's how they learned not to mess with my car."

The easy banter and lighthearted stories quickly dissolve any lingering nerves you have. Glen's family and friends are down-to-earth, welcoming you into their inner circle as if you've always been a part of it. The more they share, the more you see the depth of their bond and the way they care for each other.

As you take another bite of your burger, you look over at Glen, who's been watching you with a soft smile. "You doing okay?" he asks quietly, leaning in so only you can hear.

You nod, feeling completely at ease now. "Yeah, I'm doing great. Your family's wonderful."

His smile widens as he places a hand gently on your back. "I'm glad you think so. They're a little crazy, but they're mine."

"And now I guess I'm part of them too," you say with a playful grin.

Glen's eyes light up at your words, and he leans in to press a quick, affectionate kiss to your lips. "Yeah, I guess you are."

Just then, one of Glen's friends raises his drink and shouts "Hook 'em, Horns!" The entire group responds in unison, raising their hands in the iconic "Hook 'em Horns" gesture, with pinkies and index figures extended with the thumb tucked grasping the second and third fingers.

You try to mimic the gesture, but you don't quite cooperate. Glen catches your struggle and chuckles softly. "Here, let me help," he says, gently taking your hand in his.

With his warm fingers guiding yours, Glen carefully adjusts your hand, making sure your pinky and index fingers are extended and your thumb tucks the other fingers. His touch is gentle and precise, and you can't help but feel a little flutter in your chest as he concentrates on getting it just right.

"How's that?" you ask, looking up at him with a smile.

He gives your hand a final tweak before stepping back to admire his work. "Perfect," he says, his voice soft and affectionate. "Now you're officially part of the team."

You laugh, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "Guess I really am one of you now."

The group continues to laugh and share stories as the sun begins to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the gathering. The pre-game atmosphere, filled with the sounds of sizzling food, clinking bottles, and cheerful banter, is everything you imagined - and more. With Glen's arm draped comfortably around your shoulders and the "Hook 'em Horns" gesture nailed down, you feel a sense of belonging that surprises you in the best possible way.

As the tailgate winds down and the anticipation for the game grows, Glen wraps his arm around your waist, guiding you through the throng of excited fans heading towards the stadium. The air is filled with the sounds of chanting, music, and the collective buzz of thousands of supporters, all eager for the big game.

"Ready for the full game day experience?" Glen asks, glancing over at you with a grin.

You nod, feeling a mixture of excitement and curiosity. "Definitely. Lead the way."

As you approach the entrance, Glen veers off towards a merchandise stand just inside the gate, keeping his promise to get you your very own Texas Longhorns shirt. The stand is awash with burnt orange and white, offering everything from t-shirts to hoodies, foam fingers, and even Longhorns-themed sunglasses.

"Okay, let's find you something," Glen says, scanning the racks of shirts. He picks out a simple, yet classic burnt orange t-shirt with the Texas Longhorns logo emblazoned across the front. Holding it up to you, he grins "How about this one?"

You take the shirt from him, feeling the soft fabric between your fingers. "It's perfect," you say, already imagining yourself fitting right in with the sea of orange in the stadium.

Glen pays for the shirt and then hands it back to you. "Go ahead and try it on. Let's see how it looks."

You pull the t-shirt over your white tank top, the bright orange contrasting perfectly with your outfit. As you smooth the fabric down, Glen steps back to admire the look.

"Hold on," he says, reaching for the white Texas Longhorns baseball cap he had been wearing earlier. With a playful grin, he gently places it back on your head, adjusting the brim so it sits just right. His fingers linger for a moment, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You look up at him, a smile playing on your lips. "How do I look?"

Glen's gaze softens as he takes you in, a warm smile spreading across his face. "You look great," he says, his voice filled with genuine affection. "I think orange might be your color."

You laugh softly, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "Guess I'm officially part of the team now."

"Absolutely," Glen replies, leaning in to brush a quick kiss against your forehead. "Now, let's get to our seats."

With his arm comfortably draped around your shoulders, Glen guides you through the bustling concourse and up towards the exclusive box seats he reserved for you, his family, and close friends. As you walk, you can't help but notice a few heads turning, whispers following in your wake. It's clear that Glen's presence isn't going unnoticed.

But Glen seems unfazed by the attention, focused entirely on making sure you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. "Don't worry," he says, sensing your unease as you pass by a group of fans who seem to be debating whether or not to approach. "The suite will give us a bit of privacy. It's just us and the people we want to be with."

You give him a grateful smile, relieved at the thought of a more private space. "That sounds perfect."

When you reach the suite, a staff member opens the door, revealing a spacious, comfortable area with large windows offering an unobstructed view of the field. The room is decked out with cozy seating, a fully stocked fridge, and even a table spread with game day snacks.

Glen's family is already there, mingling and settling in, and they greet you warmly as you enter. You quickly realize that this box isn't just a place to watch the game - it's a space where you can relax, enjoy the company, and soak in the experience without any interruptions.

Glen guides you to a seat near the window, right next to him. As you take in the view of the field below, and the energy of the crowd that's starting to pile into the stadium, you feel a sense of excitement bubbling up.

"So, what do you think?" Glen asks, settling in beside you, his hand casually resting on your knee.

You turn to him, your smile reflecting the excitement you feel. "It's incredible."

Glen grins, clearly pleased. "I'm glad you're here," he says giving your knee a gentle squeeze. "Now, get ready for some real Texas football."

Suddenly, the lights dim, and the giant screen at the far end of the stadium flickers to life. The Texas Longhorns logo appears, and the crowd erupts into cheers. You glance over at Glen, who is grinning ear to ear, clearly caught up in the excitement.

"Here they come," he says, nodding towards the tunnel at the edge of the field.

The sound of drums fills the air as the Texas Longhorns marching band begins playing. The brass instruments gleam under the stadium lights and the rhythm of the drums pulses through the stands, making your heart beat a little faster.

As the band starts playing the school fight song, the crowd rises to their feet, the familiar tune echoing throughout the stadium. Glen stands up, pulling you to your feet with him. The sight is breathtaking - the sea of burnt orange, the flags waving proudly, and the booming voices of thousands of fans all joining together in the song.

Glen leans in close, his voice just above a whisper in your ear. "You've got to sing along, it's tradition."

You smile nervously, not sure what the words are, but Glen's enthusiasm is contagious. As the band reaches the chorus, Glen starts singing, his voice blending with the roar of the crowd. "Texas Fight! Texas Fight! And it's goodbye to A&M..."

You start to hum along to the words, your soft voice, almost drowned out by the thousands of others. But Glen's infection energy pulls you in. His eyes spark with excitement. "Louder!" he urges, his grin widening.

You laugh, feeling the last of your hesitation melt away as you throw yourself into the chant, clapping along with the beat and shouting the words with enthusiasm. Glen's pride is evident, and he can't hide his delight at seeing you get into the spirit of the game.

As the team bursts onto the field, the stadium erupts into a thunderous roar. The players, clad in their iconic burnt orange and white uniforms, charge out of the tunnel, the sight of them stirring a fresh wave of excitement into the crowd. The band crescendos into the final notes of the fight song, and the noise level reaches a fever pitch.

Glen wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as the team lines up on the field. "What do you think?" he asks, his voice barely audible over the noise.

You look up at him, your heart racing with the excitement of the moment. "It's amazing," you reply, your smile wide and genuine. "I can see why you love this so much."

As the players take their positions on the field, the atmosphere in the stadium becomes electric. The roar of the crowd swells, and you can feel the anticipation vibrating through the stands. You're fully immersed in the excitement, your earlier nerves replaced with growing enthusiasm as Glen points out different players and explains the significance of the game.

Just as you start to relax, the opening kickoff is moments away. You're leaning forward in your seat, eyes glued to the field when suddenly - BOOM!

The deafening sound of Smokey the Cannon firing catches you completely off guard. You jump in your seat, your heart racing as the shock of the blast reverberates through your chest.

Glen, noticing your startled reaction, can't help but chuckle. "Sorry, I should've warned you about that," he says, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. His laugh is warm and affectionate, and he pulls you close, resting his chin on your shoulder. "That's Smokey the Cannon. It fires off at every kickoff. Just part of the tradition."

You lean into his embrace, your initial fright quickly fading as you feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back. "I think I just aged a few years," you say with a laugh, trying to shake off the lingering adrenaline. "I wasn't expecting that at all."

Glen's grip tightens slightly, his way of reassuring you. "It's loud, but you'll get used to it," he says, his voice gentle and comforting in your ear. "Trust me, by the end of the game, you'll be waiting for it."

You turn your head to catch his eye, feeling a smile tug at the corners of your mouth. "I'll take your word for it," you reply, your nerves settling as you take comfort in his closeness.

The game kicks off, and the action on the field immediately draws you back in. As the players clash, the crowd erupts into cheers and groans, their energy contagious. Glen keeps you close, his arm draped over your shoulders, and you find yourself getting more and more caught up in the excitement of it all.

Throughout the game, Glen is right there, guiding you through the experience. He explains the rules as plays unfold, pointing out the strategy behind each move. "See how the quarterback is scanning the field?" he says at one point. "He's looking for an open receiver, someone who can catch the ball and make a run for it."

You nod, trying to absorb the information. "It's a lot more complicated than I thought," you admit, appreciating his patience.

Glen grins, his eyes twinkling with enthusiasm. "That's what makes it fun," he says. "Once you start to understand the strategy, it's like watching a chess match...only with a lot more action."

As the game progresses, you find yourself cheering along with the crowd, your earlier nerves completely forgotten. Glen's explanations help you feel more connected to the game, and his excitement is infectious. Each time something exciting happens on the field - a touchdown, a particularly good tackle - he turns to you with a grin, eager to share the moment.

"Did you see that?" he asks after a particularly impressive play, his eyes alight with excitement. "That's what they call a 'Hail Mary' - a long pass to try and score a touchdown when time's running out."

You nod, caught up in the moment. "I think I'm starting to get the hang of this," you say, feeling a sense of pride as you follow the flow of the game.

Glen leans in, his voice low and full of affection. "You're doing great," he says, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm glad you're here with me."

You smile up at him, the warmth of his words making your heart flutter. "Me too," you reply, feeling more at home in the stadium with each passing moment.

As the game continues, the two of you settle into a comfortable rhythm - Glen explaining plays, you cheering along with the crowd, and both of you enjoying the shared experience. It's a day filled with excitement, but also with moments of quiet connection, each one deepening the bond between you.

And by the time Smokey the Cannon fires off again, you barely flinch - too caught up in the thrill of the game and the warmth of Glen's presence beside you.

The final whistle blows and the stadium erupts in a sea of burnt orange and white. Texas has won, and the energy in the air is electric. Fans are cheering, hugging, and celebrating as the Longhorns players wave to the crowd before making their way off the field. You can't help but get caught up in the excitement, clapping along as the band strikes up the fight song one last time.

As the crowd begins to thin out, Glen helps you gather your things, and the two of you make your way out of the suite. The halls of the stadium are still buzzing with excitement, fans streaming toward the exits, chatting excitedly about the game. You notice a few people casting glances your way - recognition flickering in their eyes as they realize who Glen is.

You feel a flutter of nervousness in your chest as the looks become more frequent. The idea of being recognized, of suddenly being in the spotlight, is overwhelming. But before the anxiety can take hold, Glen reaches for your hand. His grip is firm, and reassuring, and he gives you a comforting smile.

"Don't worry," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "I'm right here."

His words and his touch soothe you, and you take a deep breath, focusing on the warmth of his hand in yours rather than the curious glances around you. Together, you navigate through the crowd, Glen's presence beside you acting as an anchor, keeping you steady.

As you step out into the cool evening air, the noise of the stadium fades behind you, replaced by the more distant sounds of fans celebrating in the parking lot. The crowd is thinning out, and the atmosphere feels less intense, allowing you to finally relax.

Glen leads you to his truck, and as you approach it, he glances over at you, his expression softening. "So...your first Texas game," he says as he opens the passenger door for you. "What did you think? Did it live up to the hype?"

Your smile, climbing into the truck and settling into the seat. "It really did," you reply, your tone reflecting the surprise in your voice. "I didn't think I'd get so caught up in it, but I did. The energy, the crowd, the way everyone was so passionate...it was contagious."

Glen closes the door and walks around to the driver's side, sliding into the seat beside you. He doesn't start the truck right away, instead turning slightly to face you, his gaze soft and warm.

"I'm really glad you came," he says, his voice sincere. "It means a lot to me to share this with you."

You feel your heart swell at his words, and you take a moment to let them sink in. "I'm glad I came too," you say softly, your eyes meeting his. "It's not something I ever imagined myself doing, but I'm really happy I did."

Glen reaches out and takes your hand again, his fingers intertwining with yours. "You were a great sport about everything," he says, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Even when Smokey scared the life out of you."

You laugh, shaking your head at the memory. "I'll admit, that was a bit much," you say with a grin. "But honestly, the whole experience was incredible. I see now why it's such a big deal for you."

Glen's smile widens, and for a moment, the two of you simply sit there, hands clasped, sharing a quiet, meaningful silence. The excitement of the day is still buzzing in your veins, but there's also a deeper feeling - a sense of connection, of understanding, that goes beyond just the game.

"I'm really happy you're here with me," Glen says quietly, his voice carrying a weight of emotion. "This...it all means a lot more with you by my side."

His words hit you in a way you didn't expect, and you realize just how much this day, and this man, have come to mean to you. You squeeze his hand, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the game or the crowd, but everything to do with him.

"I'm happy to be here," you reply, your voice just as soft. "With you."

For a moment, the world outside the truck seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in the stillness of the parking lot. It's a moment of quiet reflection, of mutual appreciation, and as you sit there, you realize that this experience has brought you closer to Glen in a way you hadn't anticipated.

Glen starts the engine, but before he shifts into gear, he leans over and presses a tender kiss to your lips. It's soft, sweet, and filled with unspoken emotion, a perfect ending to a day you'll never forget.

As he pulls away, you both smile at each other, the bond between you stronger than ever. As the truck rolls out of the parking lot, leaving the stadium behind, you feel a sense of contentment, knowing that this is just the beginning of something truly special.

The next morning sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across your bedroom. You sit on the edge of your bed, phone in hand, absently twisting the brim of Glen's baseball cap between your fingers. The events of the previous day play on a loop in your mind - Glen's infectious enthusiasm, the electrifying atmosphere of the game, and the way he held your hand, guiding you through it all. A smile tugs at your lips as you remember the look in his eyes when he told you how much it meant to him to have you there.

But now, in the quiet of your room, the excitement of the game has given way to do something deeper - an unmistakable warmth in your chest, a feeling that's both exhilarating and a little terrifying. You realize that what started as casual dating has slowly grown into something more. And for the first time, you feel the need to talk to someone about it.

You take a deep breath and scroll through your contacts, landing on your mom's number. The familiar sound of the ringtone fills the room as you hold the phone to your ear, your heart beating a little faster with each passing second. Finally, you hear her voice on the other end, warm and welcoming as always.

"Hi, sweetie! How are you?" Your mom greets you, the sound of her voice instantly soothing some of your nerves.

"Hey, Mom," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. "I'm good. Just...thinking about a lot of things."

Your mom chuckles softly. "Well, it sounds like you've got something on your mind. What's going on?"

You pause for a moment, gathering your thoughts before you begin. "I met somebody, and...he's really great, Mom. he's got these green eyes that I could just get lost in, and he's so sweet. He opens doors for me, he makes me laugh, and he...he doesn't make me cry." Your voice softens as you say the last part, a small admission of how different this feels from anything you've experienced before.

There's a brief silence on the other end, and then your mom speaks, her voice gentle. "He sounds wonderful, honey. Tell me more about him."

A smile spreads across your face as you think about Glen. "He's from Texas, not exactly where we're from, but...when I'm with him, he feels like home. He's got me doing things I never thought I'd do, like going to a football game." You laugh, still a little surprised at how much you enjoyed the experience.

Your mom laughs too, a mix of surprise and amusement in her tone. "A football game? You? Never thought I'd see the day."

"I know, right?" you reply, shaking your head at the memory. "He even gave me his hat to wear because I didn't have any Texas gear. And, Mom...I liked it. I really liked it."

There's a pause, and you can almost hear your mom's smile through the phone. "It sounds like you're really falling for this guy."

You bite your lip, the truth of her words sinking in. "I think I am," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Mama...I like him a lot. I even learned the words to the Texas Fight Song."

Your mom's laughter rings through the phone, full of warmth and understanding. "It sounds like he's got you wrapped around his finger," she teases, but there's no judgment in her voice, only happiness for you.

"Maybe he does," you say, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought. "But...it feels right, Mom. He feels right."

Your mom's voice softens, a hint of emotion creeping in. "I'm happy for you, sweetheart. Just take things one step at a time, and follow your heart."

You nod, even though she can't see you. "Thanks, Mom. I will."

As you end the call, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. Talking to your mom has helped you put things into perspective, and you realize that you're ready to see where things go with Glen, no matter where that may lead. The thought of him brings a smile to your face, and you can't help but feel a flutter of excitement at what the future might hold.

[tinydefector]

Interface Rust Disease

I wanna thank @penny-anna for letting me use this idea, I didn't use it for all the characters and some are shorter than others but I had alot of fun working on this and might do some others if people want other characters.

On another note, I live!!, got sick been working horses and had Christmas, got a new year's party I'm heading to tomorrow so wanted to finally get this finished as it's been sitting in my drafts for a while now.

___________

Word count: 5k

Warnings: mention of sex/interfacing, medical check ups, robot STDs

__________

Shouting can be heard off in the distance, the few bots that were in the west wing gave each other side eyes and looked to Ratchet in concern. "Motherfucker!" A human voice yells. "Which one of you fuckers have been tampering with my car!, there's rust on it and I know for a fact that it's one of you!" They point at the mechs, not enjoying whatever prank they were playing on them.

Ratchet startles at the sudden shouting, nearly dropping the tool in his servo. He whirls around with a scowl as he hears the angry human accusing his comrades. "Now you listen here!" Ratchet growls, stomping towards the shouting human while waving a wrench menacingly. "I won't tolerate that kind of language or baseless accusations in my medbay! If you have a problem, you can bring it to me in a civil manner and we'll get to the bottom of it. But bursting in here, hurling insults, will get you nowhere!" 

The old medic glares down at the human, grip tightening on his wrench. "So I suggest you calm yourself and explain what exactly is going on with your vehicle, without all the colorful language if you please."

They let out a collection of angry noises, but all the other mechs are dead silent and still as they watch Ratchet and the human in their standoff. First Aid watching the showdown in slight excitement. "My car has some sort of alien rust in the undercarriage and it's spreading rapidly! There was nothing there two days ago!" They spit out as they cross their arms. 

Ratchet frowns, lowering his wrench as he listens to the human's explanation. Rust spreading rapidly on an Earth vehicle was definitely odd and concerning. He nods, "Alright, let's take a look at this rust and see what we're dealing with." Ratchet gestures for the human to show him the affected car. As they walk, he glances around suspiciously. This had the makings of some kind of prank pulled by one of the more immature mechs in the base. But he wouldn't make any accusations until he saw the damage himself.

"What kind of car is it?" Ratchet asks conversationally as they walk. He was still grumbling inwardly about his clinic being disturbed, but he pushed that aside to focus on the task at hand. Strange rust required his full attention. They state the make and model, its mileage. Until they reach the area where the rest of the humans who frequent the base had their vehicles parked. "Right there, any idea what's caused the rust or what shit head decided to tamper with my car? " they call out while pointing to their car.

Nothing on the outside gave any signs of rust but Ratchet knew better than that, and he was now having suspicion on what it might be. But why was it on their vehicle? The human lifts the hood of the car showing the advancing rust. Ratchet's optics widen as he gets a closer look at the vehicle and recognizes the telltale signs of IRD. 

He shakes his helm, rubbing his temples where he can feel a processor ache coming on. "Primus give me strength," he mutters under his breath. Turning back to the human, Ratchet's  tone drops into the stern doctor voice. "This appears to be a case of IRD - Interfacing Rust Disease. A...cybertronian STD, in layman's terms." 

Inside, Ratchet cringes. This was not a conversation he ever wanted to have with one of the humans. But the rust had to be stopped before it spread further. "I found rust on my car, I thought the twins thought it might have been a good idea to prank me with something." They begin rambling before they stop, processing what he had said. "Wait, wait your telling me a Cybertronian fucked my car!" They nearly yell, catching the attention of men and mechs around the Ark.

Ratchet holds up his servos in a calming gesture as the human begins to yell again. "Easy now, no need to make a scene," he says evenly. "It appears one of the, ahem, friskier mechs around here took a liking to your vehicle's make and model. It's not unheard of." Ratchet shakes his helm and sighs. "I know you're angry, and you have every right to be. But right now, we need to contain this outbreak. IRD can spread quickly if left unchecked. I need to do a full scan on your vehicle and start tracking down the original carrier."

He gives the human a sympathetic look. "I promise I'll buff out any lasting damage once the rust is treated. And I'll be having strong words with whichever mech defiled your car.For now, let's get your vehicle into quarantine. The sooner I can analyze the strain, the sooner we can get it treated” They huff and grumble before sighing. "OK just please fix it, I'll see if Red alert has any info, I know he likes having hidden cameras around the place, but what happens if it didn't happen in the base?" They finally ask.

"I know it's not ideal, but it's the quickest way to track down the source. Once I analyze it, I have my suspects narrowed down considerably. Just try not to think too hard about the methods, yes?" He gives the human an apologetic shrug. "I've been a medic for a long time, not much phases me anymore. Rest assured I will handle this professionally. Now, let's get your vehicle into isolation before this rust spreads further."

__________

Optimus Prime

Ratchet looks over the list of Autobots scheduled for their medical checkups with a weary sigh: It was going to be a long day examining everyone for signs of the IRD outbreak. But it had to be done swiftly to contain it. Ratchet grabs his tools and sterilizes the med bay berths before coming his first patient. "Optimus Prime, please report to the medbay for your routine examination."

This was going to be uncomfortable, but Ratchet was a professional. He would handle the examinations with his usual detached bedside manner. Still, he cringes inwardly at the thought of inspecting his commanding officer and friend for interfacing rust. This IRD outbreak was turning out to be quite the embarrassing hassle.

Optimus Prime makes his way to the medbay, a slight sense of unease stirring within him. He has the utmost trust in Ratchet's expertise, but he still didn't enjoy trips to the medical clinic; the medic's solemn tone does not escape his notice. As he steps Into the medbay he meets Ratchet's gaze. "Ratchet, what seems to be the issue?" Optimus inquires, his deep voice rumbling with a mixture of concern and curiosity. He knows the medic would not summon him without good reason, and he braces himself for whatever news or examination Ratchet has in store.

"Optimus, thank you for coming promptly. Please, have a seat on the berth." He gestures to the examination table. Optimus complies, seating himself on the berth and looking at Ratchet expectantly. The medic takes a moment to steady himself before meeting his leader's gaze.

"I'm afraid we have a sensitive situation. There has been an outbreak of IRD . I need to examine everyone on base thoroughly so we can identify and contain the source." Ratchet watches Optimus closely for his reaction, knowing this would likely be as uncomfortable for the Prime as it was for him. But it had to be done.

"I know this is far from an ideal, old friend. But I promise to handle this professionally and with the utmost discretion. We need to stop this outbreak from spreading further, I apologize for the invasive nature of this. But I'm sure you understand the necessity, for the health and safety of all in the Ark."

Optimus listens to Ratchet's explanation, his expression shifting from concern to a tinge of embarrassment. The mention of an "Interfacing Rust Disease" immediately puts him on edge, knowing the intimate nature of the condition. He clears his vocalizer before responding, his deep baritone vocals betraying a rare hint of discomfort. "I see. This is indeed a delicate matter." Optimus pauses. As much as he wishes to avoid such an intrusive examination, he recognizes the imperative need to contain this outbreak.

With a solemn nod, he meets Ratchet's gaze, his optics conveying his trust in the medic's abilities. "You have my full cooperation, old friend. I understand the necessity of this procedure, and I will submit to your examination without reservation."

Optimus shifts slightly on the berth, steeling himself. The medic collects his scanners and tools, then turns back to Optimus. "I'll start with a full frame scan, then move on to a more thorough examination of your interface array and surrounding mechanisms."  Ratchet starts slowly waving the scanner over Optimus from head to toe, watching the readings closely. So far just the expected baseline readings, but the detailed inspection had yet to begin.

"Try to stay relaxed, this next part will require closer contact but I'll maintain your modesty as much as possible." Ratchet keeps his tone clinical. With great care and precision, he manipulates Optimus' interface paneling, checking around seams and crevices for any early signs of corrosion or rust deposits. The examination is intimate but the medic remains focused on monitoring for any anomalies.  

After long kliks of awkward but necessary handling, Ratchet steps back with a relieved vent of air. "All clear, the scans and physical examination show no signs of infection. Thank you, I know it wasn't pleasant." Optimus gives a slight nod before leaving in a hurry, most likely to go hide away in his office and try to bury himself in work. 

_________

Ironhide

 his next patient one that Ratchet wasn't looking forward to, Ironhide. 

Steeling himself, Ratchet comms the gruff old warrior. "Ironhide, please report to the medbay for your routine examination."

It isn't long until heavy pedesteps signal the Weapons Specialist's reluctant arrival. "This better be quick, Doc, I've got a shooting range session with the Youngsters." Ironhide rumbles impatiently. 

"Have a seat on the berth and we'll get started." Ratchet gestures brusquely, in no mood to argue. Ironhide huffs but compiles, seating himself on the exam table with a glower. "Alright, let's get this over with."

“There has been an outbreak of IRD . I need to examine you thoroughly so we can mark you off the list of potential carriers” Ratchet starts while moving about. Ironhide immediately bristles. "Rust in my interface array? No chance!" He slides off the berth, waving a dismissing hand. "I'm clean as a whistle, Doc, don't need any exam."

Ratchet rubs his temples. This was going to be even more difficult than he thought. "Now hold on, Ironhide. I know this is uncomfortable, but we have legitimate evidence of an IRD outbreak on base. Just this morning, we found rust deposits on a human's vehicle consistent with trans-species transmission."  

Ironhide's optics widen slightly but he remains skeptical. Ratchet continues firmly. "Which means one of our mechs is infected and interfacing indiscriminately. We need to identify and contain the carrier immediately before this spreads further."  

"I explained the sensitivity of the situation to Optimus and he complied with an examination without hesitation, for the good of the team. I ask that you do the same." Ironhide shifts on his pedes, looking distinctly uncomfortable at the mention of Optimus' exam. He grunts reluctantly. "Fine, Doc. If it's that serious, I'll do it. But this better not leave the medbay, you understand?" 

Ratchet nods. "You have my word. Now please, have a seat so we can get started." After a moment's hesitation, Ironhide sits back down on the berth with a grumble. Ratchet thanks him and begins prepping his scanners, hoping the worst of the arguing is over. Ironhide was prickly but ultimately reasonable, once the gravity of the situation got through his thick helm.

Ratchet's spark sinks as the test results come back positive for IRD. Ironhide...is the carrier? He meets the gruff mech's optics with a grave expression.

" Ironhide. You are infected with an active IRD strain." Ironhide looks stunned, then reddens in embarrassment and anger. "That's impossible! I haven't-" He cuts himself off, glancing away shiftily.

Ratchet's optics narrow. "Ironhide, this is serious. IRD could devastate our already small numbers if left unchecked. I need you to be honest with me, how long have you had a Rust deposit?."

Ironhide won't meet his gaze, shuffling on the berth. Finally he mumbles "...about 4 human weeks now..." Ratchet vents harshly, displeased but unsurprised at the admission. "Alright. Well now we know the source. I'm putting you in quarantine until we flush your systems and you're no longer contagious." 

Ironhide starts to protest but Ratchet cuts him off with a sharp wave of his wrench. "No arguments! This ends now before someone gets infected! Honestly Ironhide, I'm glad it wasn't one of our own you infected but use your processor Mech!"

Ratchet vents tiredly, glad to have identified the carrier but dismayed it was someone as respected as Ironhide. This would be an awkward truth to contain...

"So...lonely and bored, hm? No one around to 'interface' with you properly?" Ratchet asks with a raised optical ridge.  Ironhide scowls, embarrassment rolling off him in waves. "Ah lay off Doc, you know how it gets."

Ratchet chuckles. "I certainly do. Still, you couldn't find a nice mech to 'transfluid transfer' with instead of that poor human's car?, i guess at least you haven't transferred it to an9ther mech which is a relief, "

Ironhide looks even more flustered, if possible. "It...seemed like a good idea at the time," he mumbles lamely. Ratchet just shakes his helm. "You have no idea how angry they were to find 'rust deposits' all over the undercarriage." Ironhide covers his faceplates with a groan. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up Doc. I fragged up.”

"At least my interface drive still works properly for my age, unlike some rusted old medics I know..." Ironhide grumbles under his breath. Ratchet snorts, unmiffed. "Oh please, my spike is plenty calibrated, I just prefer not to wear it out like some mechs."

"Is that what you tell yourself?" Ironhide retorts with a smirk. 

"Better than what you tell yourself every lonely night in the berth, i have a conjunx" Ratchet fires back smoothly.

Ironhide barks out a laugh at that. "Alright alright, enough banter at my expense. Just fix me up."

________________________

Ratchet vents slowly, steadying himself for the next examination. "Jazz, please report to the medbay." After a few kliks, the saboteur strolls in as if he had been waiting near by, visor bright and a casual grin on his faceplates. "Wassup, Doc bot? Ya called for me?"

"Have a seat, Jazz." Ratchet gestures to the berth, then launches right into explaining about the IRD situation, knowing Jazz would not take gentle persuasion. Jazz's visor flashes in surprise. "Woah, rusty spikes? Ain't heard of that in vorns..." He trails off, then shrugs and hops up on the berth without further prompting. "Go ahead and scan away, Ratch. Gotta do what ya gotta do."

Ratchet nods, mildly surprised but grateful for Jazz's easy cooperation. He proceeds with the examination, starting with a full frame scan. Jazz stays still and quiet, visor following Ratchet's movements curiously but no wisecracks or questions. The scan is clear, so Ratchet moves on to the intimate inspection. Jazz doesn't even flinch as his paneling is manipulated, seemingly unaffected by the awkwardness of the situation.  

In short order, Jazz is also cleared and hops off the table. "All good, Doc bot?" At Ratchet's confirmation, Jazz nods and shoots him a finger gun gesture. "Glad to help out. See ya around!" And he departs as smoothly as he arrived.

Ratchet shakes his head wryly. Leave it to Jazz to take even the most uncomfortable exam in stride. He logs the results, then wearily calls the next bot on his list...

As Jazz turns to leave after his examination, Ratchet calls out to him.

"Jazz, hold on a moment. I have something else I wanted to ask you, regarding...personal matters." Jazz pauses and looks back over his shoulder, visor glinting curiously. "Oh yeah, Doc? What's on your processor?" Ratchet shifts a bit, unsure how to broach the subject delicately. Finally he decides the direct approach is best. 

"It's about you and Prowl. I know you two are...close." Ratchet raises an optic ridge meaningfully. "I want to be sure you are taking proper precautions, especially with this IRD outbreak happening." Jazz's visor brightens in understanding and he chuckles. "Me and Prowler? We're careful, Doc, don't you worry. Been together a long time now, we know how to mesh safely."

His voice takes on a more serious tone as he adds "But I appreciate you lookin' out for us. Wouldn't want my mech getting scrambled spike, you feel me?" Ratchet nods, satisfied with Jazz's answer. "I had to be sure. This outbreak could spread rapidly if we don't contain it. But I trust you two have things in hand."

Jazz gives him a casual salute. "You got it, Ratch. We'll be extra careful for now. Thanks for the check-in." With a parting wave, Jazz saunters out of the medbay. Ratchet watches him go, glad to have confirmation the two officers are being responsible. Now, time to call in the next bot.

______________

If Jazz has IRD

Ratchet's optics widen in dismay as Jazz's test results come back positive for IRD. The easygoing saboteur was the last bot he'd expect to be a carrier, but the evidence doesn't lie. "Jazz, I need you to return to the medbay immediately. Your test came back positive."

Jazz almost bolts into the medical bay, visor flashing in worry  "Positive? But how, i'm positive i aven't got any rust build up or nothin!" Ratchet frowns. "Be that as it may, you are infected and contagious. We need to start you on aggressive anti-rust treatments right away."

"Try to remember any recent interfacing partners, no matter how casual. Tracking the source is key to stopping this." Ratchet says gravely as he starts spraying Jazz down. Jazz looks thoughtful as Ratchet questions him about recent partners. "Honestly doc, it's just been me and Prowler for vorns now. We're exclusive as they come."

Ratchet frowns. "But the rust had to come from somewhere. Are you sure you haven't interacted with anyone else, even casually?" Jazz shakes his helm. "Nah mech, I got all I need with my Prowler. I ain't cheated on him or fooled around."

Ratchet vents heavily. "Then I don't understand how you contracted this, unless..." His optics widened in realization. Jazz looks at him curiously. "Unless what, doc bot?"

"That human's vehicle...did you and Prowl get intimate anywhere near it?" Ratchet asks pointedly it wasn't uncommon to pick up a rust stain from a random object, even more common on earth had the car had rust beforehand and now it had progressed to IRD due to Jazz catching it.

Jazz's visor brightens as his mouth hangs open remembering. "Ohhh scrap!" Ratchet sighs, pinching his nasal ridge. "You two need to be more careful where you interface!"

_____________________________

Prowl

A short while later, Prowl enters the medbay, doorwings held high and posture straight as always. "You wished to see me, Ratchet?" Ratchet gestures to the exam berth. "Have a seat, Prowl. I'm sure Jazz informed you of the situation."  

Prowl's doorwings twitch slightly as he perches on the edge of the berth. "Yes, he briefed me on the details. An uncomfortable circumstance, but a necessary precaution."

Ratchet nods, relieved Prowl is being reasonable so far. "I appreciate your understanding. I'll be as quick and professional as possible."

Prowl simply inclines his head in acceptance. "Do what needs to be done, Ratchet." 

When the test comes back positive it has Ratchet rather stunned as he looks at Prowl. Thinking it had to be a glitch in his system. Was Prowl the culprit? Or had Jazz had it and given it to him. Had one of them interfaced with the car that was currently riddled with IRD. 

Nonetheless, the results don't lie. Ratchet leans heavily on the console, processor racing over how to handle this sensitive situation. Rubbing his temples, Ratchet looks over to the SIC. "Prowl, your test came back positive. You have interfacing rust disease." 

Prowl's optics flare in shock before he regains control of his expression. "That...cannot be. There must be some mistake." Ratchet shakes his helm before walking over with the results  "I ran it twice. You are infected." He fixes Prowl with a stern look. "I need you to tell me exactly how this might have happened."

Prowl is silent for a long moment, gaze darting away in what Ratchet swears is guilt before he finally speaks. "There was...an incident off-base. With a civilian vehicle. I believed it to be unoccupied at the time. I wasn't aware it was one of the humans on base until cycles Ago" 

Ratchet vents harshly. So his suspicions were correct. This is a serious breach of conduct from the normally uptight SIC. "Alright Prowl, listen closely. I will keep this discreet and between us, no one else is to know of this.  Here's what we are going to do..." Ratchet outlines the treatment plan, quarantine procedures, and future disciplinary action for Prowl's conduct. It's an incredibly awkward conversation, but a necessary one to contain the spread of this outbreak.

___________________________

The twins Sunstreaker & Sideswipe

Ratchet vents heavily as he checks his list and sees the next two names: Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. The dreaded "terror twins", as the other Autobots called them. This was one exam Ratchet was not looking forward to in the slightest. Still, it had to be done. Best to get them both in and out as quickly as possible.

"Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, report to the medbay immediately." Ratchet commend. 

Eventually the twins stroll in, Sunstreaker looking irritated and Sideswipe with a cheeky grin. "What's up Doc Bot? You rang?"

Ratchet crosses his arms. "Have a seat, both of you." He states before they comply, Sunstreaker growling and hissing at Sideswipe to stop bouncing around. Ratchet launches into explaining about the IRD outbreak, and is met with predictable outrage.

"No way am I letting you poke around down there!" Sunstreaker shouts, while Sideswipe just cackles. Ratchet rubs his temples as a processor ache builds. It takes nearly a full lecture and argument before he finally convinces them to submit to the exam. 

"One more thing. The contamination we detected was on a human's vehicle. I need to know if either of you have been...interfacing...with any of the indigenous population's machinery."

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe freeze, optics wide. Then they immediately round on each other. "It was you, wasn't it!? Couldn't keep it in your spike plating around the fleshies!" Sunstreaker shouts accusingly at Sideswipe. He knew Sideswipe got along well with the humans even on occasions flirting with them. 

"What!? I don't go near those cars!" Sideswipe retorts. "You're the one with all those weird kinks, I bet you fragged one of their cars!" He argues back pointing a digit at the golden yellow mech. The two descend into bickering and shoving as Ratchet looks on incredulously. Finally he steps between them with a roar.

"Enough! It doesn't matter which one of you glitches did it, the fact is it happened! If I find out you two have been violating the humans' vehicles again, I'll weld your spikes to your afts!"

Ratchet vents harshly, anger simmering through his lines. He makes a mental note to examine the security footage, determine which twin was the likely culprit, and recommend punishment to Prowl. 

As he runs the test the two mechs bicker and make fun of each other. Pointing out paint marks and such as Ratchet takes samples and runs scans. "Hold still, you glitch!" Ratchet snaps as Sideswipe squirms away while he's trying to take a sample. 

"Not my fault, Sunny's ugly face is putting me off!" Sideswipe cackles.

"You wanna see ugly? Look in the mirror, afthead!" Sunstreaker shoots back.

"What's this paint transfer on your thigh plating, Sideswipe?" Sunstreaker sneers. "Been grinding on the native's vehicles?"

"It's from that silver firebird we raced last week, spikesucker!" Sideswipe retorts. "At least I can get some action, unlike you!" Ratchet finally loses his patience. "Enough! One more word out of either of you and I'll dismantle your vocalizers! Now sit still and shut up so I can finish this!"

The twins fall sullenly silent under Ratchet's withering glare. Ratchet vents harshly and continues the invasive examination. Finally the console beeps with the analysis complete. Ratchet checks the results and vents harshly, spinning to face the twins with a thunderous look. "One of you glitches IS infected! These sample results just came back positive for IRD!"

________________________

Sideswipe  with IRD

The twins go still, optics widening in shock. Sideswipe immediately points at Sunstreaker. "I knew it! It's gotta be him!" "What!? Don't try to pin this on me, I'm clean!" Sunstreaker shoves Sideswipe Hard. 

Ratchet steps between them again. " We'll have to run targeted scans on your interface arrays to isolate whichever one of you is the carrier." Both twins squirm at that but grudgingly comply with the invasive scans. After tense kliks, the results finalize - and it's Sideswipe that tests positive.

Sunstreaker crows in triumph while Sideswipe whines "No way, that's impossible!"

Ratchet crosses his arms sternly. "The scans don't lie. Sideswipe, you have some explaining to do. And we need to start containment and treatment immediately before you spread this any further."

Sunstreaker hovers nearby, arms crossed and expression stony. He refused to leave his twin's side despite not being infected himself. Finally Sideswipe breaks the silence in a small voice. "Am I gonna be okay, Doc? This isn't gonna like, permanently damage me right?"

Ratchet vents softly. "You'll be fine, Sideswipe. The contamination is surface-level on your equipment. I can flush your lines and replace the infected components, the rust hasn't set in to seriously"

Sideswipe relaxes slightly. "Oh good. Cause I can't be my irresistible self if my spike doesn't work right, you know?" He laughs weakly. Sunstreaker just huffs. "This is what you get for not being more careful where you stick that thing." "Yeah yeah, lecture me later." Sideswipe waves a hand dismissively. "So how long am I gonna be quarantined, Ratch?"

"At least 2 orns." Ratchet replies. "To allow sufficient time for the decontamination and replacement procedures, and ensure you are no longer infectious." Sideswipe groans dramatically but doesn't argue further. Ratchet finishes sealing off the area then starts preparing for the intensive but necessary treatments. He shoots Sideswipe a wry look. "Let this be a lesson to you in safe interfacing from now on."

As Ratchet starts Sideswipe's treatment, he gives the frontliner a stern look. "What in Primus' name possessed you to interface with one of the humans' vehicles anyway? You know that's strictly prohibited."

Sideswipe squirms. "I dunno, I was overcharged one night after a party and that sleek little sports car was just sitting there, seemed like a good idea at the time." Sunstreaker smacks his brother up the back of the helm. "You idiot! I can't believe you were so stupid." He glares accusingly at Sideswipe. "This better not get us thrown in the brig, I am NOT sacrificing my time or getting benched for your depraved actions."

"Ow! Okay okay, I'm sorry!" Sideswipe rubs his helm sullenly. "It was a dumb thing to do. But come on, you can't say you've never been tempted to fool around with any of their hot rides." He yelps as Sunstreaker smacks him again. "Don't even try to drag me into this. Just accept you're a moron and be glad Ratchet can fix your mess."

___________________________

Sunstreaker with IRD

"Well well, looks like we found our culprit." Ratchet gives Sunstreaker a withering look. "You've got some explaining to do, mech." Sunstreaker scowls defensively. "It's not my fault! How was I supposed to know those 'Cons had rusty spikes?" 

Ratchet vents harshly. "You were interfacing with Decepticons? Are you glitched in the helm!?" Sideswipe cackles gleefully. "Ooooh Sunny's in trouble! Who'd you 'face, the Constructicons?"

Sunstreaker's plating flushes with energon. "No! It was just the stunticons, alright!? Motormaster said they were clean!" Ratchet resists the urge to bang his helm on something. "Of all the idiotic, reckless....do you have any idea how dangerous this is!? For you, for everyone on this base?"

He jabs a finger at Sunstreaker. "You are confined to quarters until I sort this out. And if I find you've endangered anyone else with your stupidity, I'll have you in the brig faster than you can say ‘Mercy’!" 

Sunstreaker looks properly chastised, mumbling apologies “I need to know exactly which Stunticon you were with." Ratchet huffs out optics staring Sunstreaker down. Sunstreaker stops, shoulder plating hunching as he looks back with a sullen expression. "Do I have to say? It's embarrassing."

Ratchet crosses his arms, entirely unmoved. "You brought this on yourself with reckless behavior. I need all the details to contain this outbreak. Now tell me, who was it?"

Sunstreaker mumbles something inaudible, scowling at the floor. Ratchet's optics narrow. "Speak up!"

Finally Sunstreaker spits out "Breakdown, alright! We've been meeting up sometimes after battles. But he said they were all clean! And i got frisky with one of the sports cars on Base is that what you want to know!" Ratchet vents harshly, shaking his helm. "First rule of dealing with Decepticons - never take them at their word. You're damn lucky to only have IRD and not something worse. And damn lucky i can fix that car you scuffed up" 

He points sharply at the door. "Now get out. You're confined to your quarters until I clear you." Sunstreaker ducks out swiftly, plating still flushed in embarrassment. Ratchet logs the details with another heavy sigh. ___________________________________________________

Let me know if you would like to be added to tag list (tagged for every fic)

Taglist

@angelxcvxc

@wosemoose1

@savvy-the-mad-scientist

@yummybatteryacid

@saturnhas82moons

@horizonartist980

@murkyponds

@buddee

@bubblyjoonjoon

@chaihena

@pyreemo

@lovenotcomputed

@mskenway97

@delectableworm

@cheesecaketyrant

@ladyofnegativity

@desertrosesmetaldune

@stellasfallow

@coffee-or-hot-cocoa

@shinseiokami

@tea-loving-frog

@aquaioart

@daniel-meyer-03

@pupap123

@dannyaleksis

@averysillylittlefellow

@rosielecktor

@shurushurubanban

@strawberrydutchling

@azuragalaxya

@dumpster-fae

@simp-sentral

@smallestapplin

@starscreamloverfr

@doodle-dongs

@natchayaphorn

@askcookieanon

@aerisvirtue

@horizonartist980

@soulless-nocturnal-raccoon

@gracebear

@lilliaslonghair

@rabies10

@alextheknight707

@chershire23

@polyhexianclock

@witchygod

@therealholyloaf

[impalanna]

Title: Foggy Windows Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Warnings: Mentions of violence, swearing, p in v, smut, dirty talk, SO MUCH SMUT, name calling, rough sex, Dean using you Summary: You and Dean go on a hunt together. You two don't even get to the location where the hunt is without having to pull over and, you know. Authors' notes: For @shadysoulangel :) This is based off of an imagine that I did (click here to access) I hope you guys enjoy! ;) Word Count: 2,837k

Dean rubbed his eyes, not ready to go out on this hunt but wanting to get out of the bunker for a little while. He was pent up, in every since of the word. You were asleep beside him, which made him look down at you and smile. He loved waking up before you did. It meant he could look at how peaceful you are, curled up beside him. He adored you.

You always knew when eyes were on you, even when you were sleeping. It always woke you up when someone was watching you. You stirred awake, meeting Dean's eyes. "You watching me sleep, perv?" You giggled at him, getting on your knees to lean up and kiss him gently. "What? You gonna watch me shower, too?" You asked him in the sexiest tone you could muster up.

"Damn right I might, sweetheart." He smirked at you, eyeing you in his old T-shirt and your underwear. He is so goddamn hot. You thought to yourself as you went into the bathroom and closed the door, taking off your clothes.

You slipped into the shower and began washing your body, the thoughts of how tense Dean seemed when he was hunting taking over your mind. You wanted to get him to relax, to breathe for just a minute, but he isn't going to listen to you if you ask him to take care of himself. So you had an idea. You would take care of him, in the only way he'd let you.

You knew it was summer and it was hot, so you could get away with wearing your shortest shorts without making it seem like you were trying to get his attention. You smiled to yourself as you moisturized and then went to your closet to pick out your top. You knew just the one. It was black, which was Dean's favorite color on you, with a low cut neck and it was cropped. Perfect for staying comfy and perfect for getting him to focus on how bad he knows he wants you.

You walk out of the bathroom, out of the bedroom, down the hallway and into the kitchen where Sam and Dean were eating their cereal and drinking their coffee. He saw you, and choked on his corn flakes. Sam gave him a confused puppy dog head tilt and then turned around to see you, then rolled his eyes. "Can you guys get a room?"

You smirked to yourself as you went to the cabinet to get a cup. There were cups already out, but you loved how cute they looked turned upside down beside the coffee maker so you never messed with them.

"Morning." Sam said in a yawn, his head in a daze due to the lack of sleep. "No breakfast?"

"You know I never eat breakfast, Sam." You said in a happy tone. You were telling the full truth when you said that.

"Oh yeah… guess I forgot." He said slowly again, watching you make your coffee to your liking. "Hey, we've got a hunt but I'm going to see a friend, you think we can take it on with Dean? It's about a day's drive from here."

"Sure, that's fine." You smiled at Sam, "Who's your friend?"

"Uh, no one, just, uh -"

"He's gonna go get laid." Dean cut him off. Sam shot a look to Dean that would kill if it could. "What? She's no prude." Dean said in defense of himself.

"Oh hell yeah, Sam! You go! We'll take this hunt, we need some time alone anyways." You looked at Dean and said, "let me go grab some stuff to take on the road." And left the two brothers with their thoughts.

"Mhm, yeah sure, princess." Dean didn't think you could hear him but you did, and goddamn did it put fire in your veins to hear it.

Damn you loved it when he called you princess. He knew that, too.

You hopped into Baby as you took your bag off your back. You knew exactly how you were going to get him to break for you. He was going to fuck you like he hasn't fucked in years.

Dean gets into the Impala, his eyes trailing your whole body as he sits down. He was primarily focused on your chest. You were playing on your phone but you knew exactly what he was doing, and you knew what you were doing, too.

"So what kinda music are we listenin' to?" Dean asked about a minute into the drive. His voice was, if you had to put it in a word, dark. You didn't say anything but you pulled out a tape he made you a few years ago. He labeled it "foggy Windows" because when you guys would have sex in the Impala, the glass would fog up.

He smirked at this. "What are you tryin' to do, sweetheart?"

You didn't say anything again as you slid the tape into the player and let it play. You smirked as "She brings me love" came on. You leaned close to Dean, facing him with a huge ass smile on your face.

"You need it, sweetheart? You baitin' me?" His voice was low as he slid his right hand up your leg. "I wouldn't be mad."

"And what if I am?" You asked with a smirk. "Maybe I'm just that horny for you."

The tires squealed as he came to a hard stop. "Say it again. Tell me how much you need me to fuck you." His voice was shaky as he spoke, his eyes wondering from your lips to your chest.

"Dean I need it so bad, baby. I need you to fuck me." Your face was going red under your makeup, as it did you thanked yourself for putting it on this morning.

Dean pulls Baby into the closest empty parking lot.

"Good girl. You're so good for me, doing what I tell you to do." He smirks and shuts the engine off. You could tell how hard he was just by looking at him. His cheeks flushed, his jeans a little too tight, and he had an adorable smirk on his face.

"I can be even better." You said slowly. You had no idea where your confidence was coming from but you were just glad it was there for you when you needed it.

"Get in the back." Dean demanded you, "Don't open the door to get back there. I want you to climb over my seat. Just don't damage my headliner." He said sternly.

"Yes, sir." You said as you climbed over his seat, making sure you purposefully put your ass in his face as you did so, which made Dean slap your ass as hard as he could. "Good girl."

"You're so good for me, princess." You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

Dean opened the door and climbed on top of you, closing the door behind him. He immediately looks down at your chest. "Goddamn, baby, I know why you wore this shirt." He said, grinding against your leg.

You smirk and bite your lip, "Yeah? You like it, daddy?" You ask as you squeeze your boobs between your arms, making them almost pop out of your shirt.

"Fuck, (y/n), you have no idea." He says as he starts kneeling them through your shirt. " I've been wanting this for a while." He says, leaning down to suck on your neck.

You gasp at the feeling of him all over you like this. 'Since I've been loving you' by Led Zeppelin starts playing in the background, making you moan. You knew that when this song was playing, Dean was going to fuck you good. it wasn't because you two were "together" or whatever. He really did love you, with everything he had. He told you one time on a hunt, a hunt that almost killed you. And he knew damn well that you loved him with everything you have too.

"Dean, please, baby. I need it so bad. Need to bounce on you." You wanted to ride him so badly.

"Oh, fuck, sweetheart, You want to bounce on my cock, baby? You want to make me cum for you?" He moaned in your ear, damn near panting because of how bad he needed you.

"Yes, Dean, please." You beg him, hoping he'd give into you. But he didn't.

"Sweetheart, you know I love to please you, right?" He asked breathlessly.

"Yeah baby I do, why?"

"Because I'm not going to give into you. I need to let off some steam. I need to have you the way I want you right now. I need you to be a good little slut for me." He was so fucking needy, and fuck, it turned you on.

You couldn't say anything to this, but you nodded your head. At this he slid off your shorts and threw them into the front seat.

"Baby, no underwear?" He asked, it coming out as a praise rather than a question.

"Yeah baby, all for you." You couldn't help but sound desperate. You needed him, bad.

"God, you're such a good little slut for me." He growls into your ear, his hands roaming around your body until he meets your clit.

"Fuck, fuck yeah Dean I'm your slut." You moan as he rubs circles on your clit, almost pushing you off the edge.

"You're so wet for me too baby, must really want me." He grunts as he sucks on your neck, close to your earlobe.

Dean couldn't hold back anymore. He was so hard his jeans were hurting him. He slides his jeans off and pulls his shirt over his head and he strokes his cock a few times while looking down at you. "So fuckin' gorgeous, (y/n)." He moans as he strokes himself, precum leaking from his tip.

Dean positions himself at your entrance. He looks up at you, and you know how good he's about to fuck you. He slams into you, and you pull him down onto you. Your name falling off his lips like sin. "(y/n), you're so fuckin' tight for me, baby. Feels so damn good."

You loved it when he'd talk to you like this. It would send you over the edge. You dug your nails into the skin on his back as he slammed into you, not giving you any time at all to adjust to his huge size. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you let him rail you, moaning into his ear, "you fuck me so good, this pussy is all yours, Dean."

"I know she is." Dean said, as skin was hitting skin, the sounds of this filling up the Impala. The windows fogging even though it's a billion degrees outside, which Dean was a saint to leave the ac on because of this.

The way he would refer to your pussy as "she" instead of you, always made you feel, weird, but good. You loved it when he said this. Part of you thought it was because you liked the way he didn't look at you as just a sex outlet. Yeah he loved your sex but he loved so much more about you and valued so much more of you than that. And even after all these years, after all the sex you guys have had, you're still amazed that he thought this way.

You clenched around him when he said this to you, your legs wrapped around his waist as he rode you out. "You better wait and come for me, sweetheart. I'll tell you when you can come." He purrs into your ear,

"Yes, sir." You moan in response. He slows down and gets off of you, changing things up and doing exactly what he's been fantasizing about doing to you.

Get on your stomach, baby." He demands, but there was always a tinge of gentleness in his voice when he took control like this; unless he was mad at you.

You nodded and got on your stomach.

"Good girl. Now bring your knees to your chest, princess." This was hard but it wasn't the first time he's made you do this. "Yes, daddy." You responded.

"Good fucking girl. Now, arch that back for me and spread those sexy ass legs." He moans. "Oh and put your hands behind your back so I can hold onto them." He smirks.

"You do as your told, after bringing your legs to your chest you arched your back and spread your legs. Dean puts a thumb into your asshole and starts to pound into you again, not letting you adjust this time either.

"Ohhh fuck, such a good slut. You're such a good little slut for me, aren't you princess?" He asks breathlessly, his thumb in your ass making your head spin. "You like it when I fill you up like this? Both your holes filled up by me, (y/n)?" He was so fucking close and it was obvious.

"Yes, daddy I LOVE it when you fill me up like this. You fuck this tight little pussy so good, I'm your little slut." You are screaming at this point, his cock slamming into you so hard you almost forgot where you were. The only thing that was on your mind right now was Dean.

Dean pulled out quickly and sat down on the leather seats, looking at you and panting. You looked so disappointed it was adorable. "Did you cum?" You asked, hoping he didn't yet. You liked to ride him when he and you both came, and he knew this.

"Bounce on me. Get your fine ass over here and ride daddy's cock, you slut." Dean demanded, his eyes dark with lust.

You didn't hesitate. You took your shirt off that you've been wearing this whole time and you hopped on him, sinking down on him. "Fuck yeah, so tight for me and I've been using you for over an hour now, baby. Your pussy is perfect." You smirked at this and started riding him, rolling your hips and moaning his name.

"You're perfect, sweetheart, All of you is perfect. Every last inch of you, (y/n)." He moaned as you rolled your hips faster. You took your bra off and threw it in the front seat. You then grabbed the top of the bench seat behind Dean and started to bounce on him, your tits making a slapping sound on your skin every time they'd come back down to reunite with the soft skin under them.

Dean was losing his mind. Your body moving like this on him, how tight you are, the sounds you were making, the way you looked riding him, he was lost in you. He was in a daze. You leaned forward to kiss him gently. You were so close and he was too. He grabbed your ass and started fucking up into you. "You like that, sweet girl? You like it when I grab your ass like this and pound you?" He moaned into your ear as he took control yet again.

"Yes daddy I do, please fuck me harder, I'm gonna cum." You moaned loudly as he pounded you relentlessly.

"So fuckin' good for me, slut. You better come for me, bitch. Cum all over my cock, (y/n). I wanna feel you squeeze me." He demands behind clenched teeth.

You didn't hold back, you let out moan after moan, begging him to fill you up, telling him his cock made you feel like a perfect little slut. “Mmmmmm, Dean you fuck me so good.” You moan as you’re looking at him, his eyes locked on yours and a sexy fucking smirk playing on his face.

Dean pulled you off him and threw you onto the seat. He was careful to make sure your head wasn’t going to hit anything before he threw you. He quickly got between your legs. "Wanna watch your tits bounce like this while I fuck you, sweetheart." His movements were powerful and sloppy. He was moaning your name, pinching your nipples, and fucking you; hard. Harder than he ever has.

You scream his name, holding onto the edge of the seat for support. You are bouncing and moaning, your breasts moving all over the place as his cock pounds into your dripping wet cunt.

"So pretty like this baby." He moans and grabs your neck gently. He moans your name, "Fuck I'm gonna cum for you, sweetheart. Gonna fill up your perfect little pussy." He grunts loudly, his grip on your neck tighter now. He cums deep inside of you, his dick all the way into you, reaching your g-spot. "Ohhhh yeah baby, fuck yeah that's good, Fuck I'm cumin'" He moans as he spills deep inside of you, his thrusts slowing down as he empties himself.

"I love you, baby." You say breathlessly.

Dean leans down and kisses you, soft and slow. "And I can't live without you, baby." He says, panting.

[thevoidstaredback]

Okay, so maybe giving his calling card to a kid was a bad idea. He sees that now. Unfortunately, it's too late to take it back. On the bright side, the kid wasn't going to be able to figure out who he is yet based solely on a summoning circle. In the pitch black void of things, Danny can sense the card and the person who's holding it.

Maybe if he leaves Fawcett fast enough he can keep plausible deniability because there's no way that the tiny homeless kid he just met is Captain Marvel. Nope, no way. Not his circus, not his monkeys. He's leaving now.

"What happened to you?" Deadman had an insufferable grin on his face. Did he have the House drop him in Gotham? Danny wouldn't put it past him.

"Don't wanna talk about it."

"Where ya going?"

"To the basement."

"Why?"

Was the other ghost always this annoying? "Because leaving was a terrible idea. I'm going to go hide in the basement until the day I fully die."

"Aw," Deadman tried to pout, but he failed and started to cackle. "Don't be like that. Did you not enjoy your trip to Gotham?"

Danny was a lot of things. Violent usually didn't make it onto that list. However, he was willing to make an assumption. "So it was your fault."

Another cackle. "Don't be like that! You've never been to Gotham before. You can't tell me you at least didn't have fun."

They were at the basement stairs now. "For your information, I have been to Gotham. I didn't get to do much exploring this time because Batman and his gaggle of sidekicks surrounded me!"

"You've been to Gotham?"

"Not important."

"Oh?" The glee on the full ghost's face made Danny uneasy. "I sense a story behind that."

Oh, no. "No. I'm not telling you." He marched past and down the stairs, not bothering to unlock or open the door.

"Please!"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I said 'no'."

"Party pooper." he huffed. "You know I'm just going to keep asking, right?"

A sigh. "I'm not gonna cave. No."

"Ah, but you will!" That was the confidence of a ghost who knew he was right. Danny did not like how that bodes for him. "You, my friend, are a younger sibling. I am also a younger sibling."

Shit. "That....That means nothing. My answer will stay 'no'."

Deadman had the gall to chuckle darkly. "We'll see." Then, he disappeared.

Danny didn't sigh because he doesn't need to breathe. He was not going to tell what happened because what happens in Gotham stays in Gotham. It's a rule of thumb that people don't cross. Besides, Deadman doesn't know that Danny's actually the middle sibling. Dani, introduced to his parents soon after he'd told them he was a Halfa, was the embodiment of younger sibling because he had once been the embodiment of younger sibling.

***

"Please get Deadman to stop!" Danny begged Zatanna three weeks later. Maybe he'd overestimated himself a little bit.

The sorcerer raised an eyebrow as she looked up from the book she'd been reading. Something on runes? "What's he doing this time?"

"He won't stop asking me to tell him about my first trip to Gotham."

"You've been to Gotham?"

Danny groaned into the throw pillow he was clutching. "Yes. Please make him stop!"

"Sorry, hun," she focused back on her book, "But I can't see him."

"Oh. I forgot about that."

"Why don't you just tell him?"

Danny shot up, appalled by the very idea. "It's a matter of principle!" he exclaimed, "I am both the older and younger sibling: The middle child. If I give in, I'll have failed! I can't do that. Do you want me to fail?!"

"Okay, okay, geez!" she surrendered, "Don't gotta be so overdramatic about it."

"I'm not being overdramatic! I'm being just dramatic enough!"

"Sure, sure. Whatever you say, kid."

"I'm not a kid!"

"You look like one."

"Yeah, but I'm not! I'm-"

"King of the Infinite Realms," Constantine interrupted, "We know."

"Then don't call me a kid."

"Yeah, yeah, kid,"

"I'm not-!"

"Look, we can have this argument all day and we'll still end in a tie. I've got a case in San Francisco near Titan's Tower. Raven's coming along. Do you want to come with?"

"Don't you normally work solo?" Danny asked. Zatanna still hadn't looked back up from her book and he was pretty sure she'd tuned them out.

"Is that a 'no'?"

"No! No, I'll come with." Maybe having Constantine with him will deter the JL from hounding him. What do they even want with him? If they're upset that he died at fourteen, he's gonna scream.

The Brit smirked. "You sound almost desperate to get out."

"Shut up and let's go."

"Alright, alright."

Part 3 Part 5

Tag List: @zaiothe4th @someonebored0100 @wolfeyedwitch @angelheartgamer @nymanders

[unknownati]

xi. christmas!

a/n: guys part of this was supposed to be the PROLOGUE to a 12 part sfw and nsfw winter/christmas themed drabbles (mini fics?) but i got too busy 💀 literally had 4 days left to write but then the 12th went by and i was like... damn

its ok tho i might upload the finished days just as separate fics

while we're here why does nle choppa have a christmas song

warnings/tags: none rlly, just fluff, SO corny, SO sappy, no use of y/n, no description of reader's features, gn!reader, decorating w/ ekko 🎉, reader is a THIEF, pre-arcane plotline (choosing happiness)

_______________________________________________

christmas in zaun was nothing close to ideal. it was never if people celebrated, but more if they could afford it, which most of the time was a no. unless people had kids, they weren't going out of their way to make it a whole thing. not only that, but people didn't really care for it, anyway. they had other things to do. sure, maybe you'd see some extra lights around, or maybe a few lopsided wreaths hanging on a weathered door, but it was always the bare minimum.

but ever since you snuck into piltover as a kid right at the tail end of december, your world was absolutely rocked by the blinding lights and stars and bows and garlands and wreaths and the huge tree sitting smack dab in the middle of the city, illuminating the night sky.

after that, you were obsessed with the idea of christmas. you never had the funds, nor the time, nor the energy, nor enough friends or family to make anything happen all by yourself. but the dream stuck to you.

and then came ekko, and with him, a chance. a huge tree? with an abundance of people living there? it gave you the best idea.

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆

cool november air was giving way to the first hints of winter, the sharp bite of cold nipping at the cheeks of zaunites. warm colored leaves were shriveling into themselves and trembling down onto the concrete, scattering through the town. settled in uneven piles, nestled in corners, where the wind could push them no further. christmas has long began to be advertised in piltover, and your excitement was uncontrollable.

quiet as a mouse, you slipped into ekko's work room. he's sat on his stool, elbows rested on the table with his figure shadowing over his work. your fingers glide across his biceps, chin resting against his right shoulder.

"hey handsome," you chirped, working your digits over the curves of his muscles. your lips curled into a grin you were incapable of withholding. "y'got a minute?"

"for you, always." he turned, hands hoisting the weight of his upper body on his knees. his eyes softened upon looking at you. "what's up?"

you slid on his lap, feet swinging back and forth, pendulum like. "soooo," you begin, leaning back on his shoulder. "i'm sure you know what christmas is."

"yeah, why? want me to get you something?" his fingers twisted at the hem of your sweater. you shake your head—not the goal right now.

"no. well, yes, but not what i'm asking you for right now," ekko's head tilts in response. your voice dropped into a playful yet unsure murmur. "iiiiii wanted to know if you'd maaaybe be willing to decorate the base and celebrate it this year?"

his thoughts stutter, and then he laughed. "baby, you know i'd love to, but i can't. don't have the time or the money."

a pout formed on your face, lips jutting out. "we don't have to spend money, we can use what we have lying around! and i have some extra money on the side. we're not flat broke."

"doesn't solve the whole time thing."

"oookay, make time. we'll have the kids help, too! you won't even have to do much, like—seriously, think about it. we don't even need to get a tree because the firelight tree, duh. we can use big cardboard boxes to look like fake presents, we can steal lights 'n' other stuff from the pilties—"

you rambled on, every idea you've ever had since childhood resurfacing and bubbling out of you in an unstoppable torrent. each thought, each plan, all of it spilled out, an overflowing pot.

"hey, hey—" he interrupted, thumb stroking your thigh. "listen, those ideas are great. but we can't. and you have got to stop stealing from topside."

your smile faltered. "but why!? think about the kids, think about me!" ekko hesitates to speak, eyes darting around the room as your face transitions into a pleading pout. "please? pretty please? i'll do the dishes for a month?"

"fuck," your eyes filled with stars. ekko groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "fine! fine, jeez."

the squeal that exited you entered directly into his ears, lips pressing kisses into his face in rapid succession.

"thankyouthankyouthankyou!!! oh my god, it'll be great, we can have the kids make little snowflakes, we could have a little fucking wish box to get gifts for some of the kids—" you gasped loudly upon a realization, planting your hands onto his shoulders. "—you can be santa!!!"

he scoffs, brushing a loc of white hair out of his face. "don't push your luck."

you sigh in mock defeat. "fine, hiemerdinger's got that. i'll take what i can get."

"isn't he kinda short for santa?"

you shake your head. "don't height shame."

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆

ekko rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, a small groan rumbling in his throat as he reached over on the bed to find you.

empty.

his head flipped. you've left a now cool dent in the bed in your wake, blanket left in a wild mess.

he frowned, sitting up and looking around. you're nowhere to be found.

maybe you got up to use the bathroom, he thinks, standing up to search the place for you.

the second his feet hit the floor, his brows furrow.

'...glitter?'

his gaze lifts, and his eyes widen as they follow the specks of glitter scattered across the floor, which caught the faint morning light that bled through the curtains.

he followed the trail, small drops of glitter turning into discarded cardboard scraps, which turned into unfinished rolls of ribbon, which lead him to his workroom, where the door was slightly ajar.

he slowly pushed the door open, finding you hunched over a box that you were decorating to look like presents. you tilt your head up to look at him, a smile spreading ear to ear.

"w'ssup?"

he glanced at the small clock on his desk. "it's...five in the morning, why are you up so early?"

you gestured towards the pile of finished boxes in the corner. "working!" the sound of tape ripping off of the roll fills the air as you took a strip, taping the box shut. "i already collected a bunch of paper for the kids to make snowflakes, borrowed some lights 'nd garlands from topside, aaand i'm almost done making all these boxes."

a lot done considering you had had that conversation just the night before.

ekko crouched down to your level, eyes meeting yours. "but...you're gonna clean all this up, right?"

silence.

"right?" he repeated.

your eyes narrowed. "yes?"

"why is that a question?"

you scoff, pressing an empty roll of wrapping paper into his chest. "why are you asking me so many of 'em? get to work. and i need you to use your hover board to fly around and get those lights up," you nod towards a pile of lights on his desk without looking away from your box. he opened his mouth to reply, but you cut him off. "thank you!"

he rolled his eyes and stood, tossing the wrapping paper roll into the recycling bin.

at a more appropriate time in the day, you stood at the top of the firelight tree after capturing everyone's attention. public speaking wasn't exactly your thing, but ekko insisted you do it since everything was your idea.

you cleared your throat as the crowd settled into silence, all eyes on you. you shifted your weight onto your other leg.

"um—wow, okay, hi guys. so, i'm sure you've all...heard of christmas. and i know it's usually kinda lame, but truuust me, this year i'm gonna make sure it's—" you gather your fingers, kissing the tips of them and flaring your hand out. "—chef's kiss."

eyes leave you to glance at other's reactions, the silence lifted by an excited murmur.

"yeah, but i'm gonna need help. i have a bunch of paper that i need to be made into snowflakes, so that by the end of the day this place can look better than it already does."

you shifted their focus to scar, who carried a large bin of scissors, string, and paper of various colors. (earlier, scar questioned how you got all these supplies. you just smiled at him.)

after a quick tutorial, children started racing to gather around him, picking their colors and scissors. within a few minutes, the kids were gathered in groups on the floor, cutting out their best attempts at snowflakes.

pride swelled in your chest and you looked up into the bulk of the tree's leaves, ekko's form flying around in circles with lights being strung along behind him. with fists on your hips, you beam. "i'm amazing," you praise, making your way back inside.

everything came together surprisingly quick. ekko had never seen you that focused—hanging up lights, making paper bows to place at the points where lights held, and placing those big fake presents around the tree. of course, other people helped too, which made the work lighter.

you mostly left the mural alone, only placing a few extra candles and waving to the colorful portraits.

by the time night fell, the project was close to finished. it wasn't perfect, but to you, it was. the entire base was illuminated in warm, white lights, paper snowflakes dangling from the branches and twisting in the wind. the beat in your chest stuttered. it all felt...magical.

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆

over the next few weeks, you kept adding and adding to the scene. and it was all finished just in time for today, christmas eve.

by now, you'd forced ekko into so many christmas activities, some more enjoyable than the others. he thoroughly enjoyed making matching pajamas with you and drinking cocoa that was overflowing with marshmallows—being constantly tricked into mistletoe kisses, not so much. at least, he acted like he hated it. he secretly adored accidentally walking right into your trap of a hidden mistletoe and being attacked by an onslaught of messy kisses.

ekko finds you at the balcony again, glancing out into the scene below. "hm. not bad." he leans against the railing, hips bumping into yours.

"yeah, cuz it's awesome. i did that, thank you."

warm lips meet your cold cheek. "mhm. you did." he paused, tongue running over his molars. "i-um...got you something."

you perked up at his words, head whipping around to face him. "ooh, you just reminded me that i have to finish making your gift, i—"

as you're speaking, he pulls a little box from his coat pocket, black with a messy red bow.

"it's not perfect, but...y'know," his voice trails off. he pops the box open and offers it to you.

inside rested a delicate necklace, light reflecting off of the silver metal and glimmering into your eyes. the chain was thin, the links very neatly melded together, and a little circular locket hanging off the center.

you take the box and reach in, mouth agape in awe, gently pushing the locket open. inside was a tiny picture of the two of you, laying in bed, with you sound asleep on his shoulder. ekko's eyes were shut as he was in the middle of pressing a kiss to your forehead.

you smile down at the picture, warmth flooding your chest. for a long moment, you're just staring at it, ekko awaiting your reaction. your lips press together, your vision starts to blur, and a tear rolls down your face and into the velvet lining of the box. then they just kept streaming down.

ekko's face drops, immediately reaching to wipe your tears. "hey, it's okay, if you don't like it i can get you something else."

you hiccup, shaking your head. "shut up, i love it so much, this is just everything i've ever wanted for my whole life, and it's so stupid but you've literally made this the best christmas i've ever had a-and this necklace is really cute and this was so worth doing the dishes—"

you could've kept going but your joyful sobs cut you off. it was all too much, all the decorations and all the traditions you once wished for finally coming into fruition. ekko's arms wrap around you and you return the gesture, fingers twisting into his coat.

"i'd do it again in a heartbeat." he whispers, moving to peck your wet cheek. once, twice, three times.

"boo," a voice calls below you. "get a room."

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆

[samusamab]

Objective Best Rooks for Each Companion Romance

Just finished my first full playthrough of Veilguard, so I now feel qualified to talk about the best/funniest rook race/class/faction combos for each companion romance. As always, feel free to argue if you want, but remember at the end of the day my opinions are always right (Government Mandated: this is a joke)

(PS: Race opinions may not be included, sue me. Also, light spoilers below, obviously. I'm pretty sure I got all the spoiler tags, but here's your fair warning just in case.)

Bellara: Grey Warden rogue. The bodice ripper girlie deserves a roguishly charming parter who is also a little dark and tortured, as a treat. Dating a Grey Warden feels like as close as Dragon Age gets to dating a superhero (but like, a broody one) and I think Bellara would love that dynamic. I have no strong opinions on race, but we'll say Qunari.

Taash: Elf Mournwatcher Mage. I may be biased, but I just finished a Mournwatcher Taash run, and seeing the way they talk about necromancy with Rook compared to Emmrich is so funny. Besides I think they'd enjoy a little goth elf to throw around.

Harding: The same combination as your inquisitor. Nothing better to me than establishing Harding having a strong type. Also very funny to imagine the inquisitor meeting Rook, the new partner Harding keeps telling them about, and they're a little too similar. Make Lace a little weirder and more fucked up (affectionate), she deserves it.

Davrin: Lord of Fortune Rogue. I see your "Davrin doesn't like the Crows because they're killers for hire" and raise you, faction of pirates and thieves that are literally just in it to beat people up and get as much loot as possible. It would be like if Isabella and Blackwall were a couple. I rest my case.

Emmrich: Mourn Watcher Mage. Listen, I know I already did this one, but let me be a little lazy. Admittedly, I am not an old man yaoi enjoyer (though I believe in their beliefs). So this one is mostly based around the idea of you Rook leaving to save the world, and ending up romancing the man who would've been their necromancy doctorate advisor.

Neve: Veil Jumper Warrior. Hear me out here, I'm obsessed with that one Neve voice line that reveals she knows nothing about the outside. Give her a wild child ranger-coded partner who lives in the cursed magic woods and would speedrun winning a season of Survivor. Make her have to go on hiking dates, it's enrichment.

Lucanis: Shadow Dragon Mage. Look, I know this is just Neve in a different font. But I'm obsessed with that Taash line about Lucanis and Neve dating where she implies their relationship has a predator-prey dynamic because he's a mage killer. Not that Lucanis is that kinky, but a Rook can imagine. Even if it ends up the other way, I'm all game for a short king magehunter getting tied up by his mage-dom.

Honorable Mention: I think it would be hilarious to romance Taash as an AFAB-Nonbinary Qunari Lord of Fortune. Just helping your hot coworker speedrun all of your own past life experiences. Please let me know if you've done this, and if it was worth it.

[rebouks]

Forever In Between - Invictus

Robin appears to have stumbled into a rather nightmarish situation and it’s up to you to ensure he makes it out alive. If he dies-.. well, maybe that’s it, or maybe he just wakes up, or maybe he won’t die at all?! Probably best not to find out the hard way though, right?

Invictus is a multiple-choice Halloween special based on Until Dawn, various other classic horror games, a teensy bit (read: a lot) of brain rot, and an overactive imagination; mine or Robin’s, you decide.

I know that creepy, slightly gory things aren't for everyone so below is a list of potential trigger warnings and if you want to sit this one out you can block the tag "fib invictus" and we'll pick up where we left off storywise in November! 🖤🧡

creepy dolls, various monsters, weapons, blood, death, murder, corpses, fighting, injuries, needles, electrocution, experimentation (not the good kind) and general peril!

As a side warning: I will be continuing with regular previous/next links as it's still technically part of the story, though I will provide a link to skip past it all when the time comes, so look out for that when normal posts resume! My usual mon-fri schedule will probs go out the window too as some posts will have votes that last a day so I'll either take the day between those off or post later than usual idk we'll see what happens 🤸‍♀️

Last but not least I'd like to give some shout outs to those that've helped me during this process 🖤

Props to @softpine for some of the Until Dawn assets used and for inspo from this post! 🧡

To @sirianasims for helping me find ridiculous amounts of disgusting, amazing cc and generally spit balling ideas with me from the very start 🤸‍♀️

A big thank you to @zosa95 for being my beta reader, listening to me witter about this project since fkin forever ago and sharing my excitement 🤗

Thanks to everyone in the story server for putting up with numerous out of context screenies and for enduring my whinging about how tired I've been recently skdjsk.. particularly @lynzishell @hannahssimblr @madebycoffee @daniigh0ul and @sirianasims for consistently cheering me on when I was pooped 💩

Okok last LAST but not least, some rambling.. I've been busy with this project in the background since the end of July and keeping up with regular story nonsense whilst working on this and adulting in between was NOT it 😅 (if you noticed my regular posts lacking in their usual vibrancy no u didn't.. but ur also right cos i've had to be super lazy with it recently to keep up with two things at once, so SORRY! fkjfk)

Anyway, hopefully it's worth it, I had a lot of fun making this special and I'm pretty proud of it so I hope everyone enjoys our October shenanigans this year! Maybe I'll find some time to make some gifts for simblreen but I'm not promising anything cos I'm eepy.. maybe my gift this year is just danger and violence instead ehehe 👻🔪

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

Yandere TFA Wasp x cybertronian reader, where both are a couple in the Autobots academy

Oh boy, another TFA! Again, haven't watched or analized the show completely or at least good enough - will do my best and I hope you like it! ╰(￣ω￣ｏ)

(TFA) Yandere!Wasp w/ a Cybertronian!Reader - "Academy Sweethearts"

WARNINGS: Yandere behaviour, open ending, long ass post ngl. Reader is cybertronian and gender neutral, also an Autobot medic. Use of (Y/N).

"Seriously, what do you see in that bot?" - ah, the question of your whole scholar life at the Autobot Academy. And, at some degree, you couldn't get to be angry at anyone who asked you that question (unless they asked it for the 5th time in the same day). You loved Wasp, just as he loved you.

Since your 1st day at the Autobot Academy, Wasp set his optics on you - and let me tell you, he was all over you nearly all the time. You would have grown to hate him if it wasn't thanks to how he made you laugh, brough you gifts, kept you safe from any other bully in the academy and always passed time with you. Wasp knew how medic apprentices at the academy were demanded too much time, foucs and energy in the course, so it was common to see the mech look after you after his training classes, and other bots would actually find themselves surprised at how Wasp was so different with you.

Teased you but always playing, giving you too many sweet nicknames, aiming to always make you laugh and listen about your day, cheer you up when needed - to be the best in-the-near-future Conjux of them all.

"I'm so tired! I'll never be the medic I want to be! I am a disaster!" You whined, to then be hugged by Wasp from behind, who was quick to start snuggling his cheeplate against yours.

"There is nothing my hot-stuff spark can't do! You got it, babe!" He cheered you, to then kiss your cheekplate, making you giggle, your mood lifted up. "You're gonna become the best medic in the whole Autobot faction, and with me becoming the best Elite guard commander - we'll be the best duo out there!"

You and Wasp could picture it - graduation day, both of you the next big Autobot medic and Autobot Elite guard commander, servo in servo, a couple that since the 1st day in the academy clicked - the academy sweethearts, together till the end of the line.

Alas - the universe was cruel and your spark broke in half after finding out from others that Wasp was a supposed Decepticon traitor that got into the Academy to do the evil deeds of the feared Megatron.

As you were crying your optics out, covering your faceplate with your servos, trembling and being hugged by Ratchet and another friend of yours who were trying to comfort you, you could hear Wasp yelling as he was being taken away.

"This is a mistake! Bee is lying! (Y/N)! Please, listen to me! (Y/N)!!"

It has been... many years since that awful day. Still spark broken, you managed to graduate from the Academy and do your job as an Autobot, now being with the main team on Earth. And thankfully, you didn't had to go through everything all alone - Ratchet and your other friends were there to support you - even Bumblebee. The poor guy was so nervous to be around you, fearing you hated him from having exposed your boyfriend as the traitor.

... You weren't going to lie, you did actually got to hate Bee for a while, but slowly come to terms that - it wasn't his fault. He did was it was correct - he found out someone was working with the Decepticons and was trying to hurt from the inside the Autobots. He protected everyone, and, at some lenght, he also protected you. Still, it hurts.

You loved Wasp so much, after all.

And you didn't had an idea about how much he kept loving you, losing his mind in imprisonment and only thinking about two things: to take revenge on Bumblebee and find you, his one and only true love.

Wasp Bee was vibrating in excitement the moment you arrived back to the base, another little thing that gave out that something with Bee was not okay - even less with how he seemed to try and follow you anywhere you went and grow rather... anxious could be the word?

Oh you were still just as beautiful as the day he lost you, his beloved academy sweetheart and his true sparkmate, the one to become his Conjux Endura. Oh, he was gonna take revenge on everyone for having ruin the future you two had ahead.

When the truth was out, before he started to run away, he begged you to follow him, to listen to him - to come with him.

"It wasn't Wasp! Wasp has always been innocent!"

... but you didn't follow him.

His sanity finally left his system when he saw the way your optics looked at him, full of sadness and no longer the love you had for him back in those days.

His spark was breaking more and more, just like his mind - it got worse when that Blackarachnia touched him (No! That was wrong! Wasp wanted to tear off his own plates - he felt dirty! No one was allowed to touch him! Only (Y/N)!) and lied to him... oh, it hurt, it hurt awfully - Wasp really thought he was gonna die inside of that strange machine and never get to see you again, to tell you how much he still loved you.

Trembling, you kept moving back, feeling your optics start to produce tears as you pointed your weapon at Waspinator. The tall, turned-Predacon moved closer and closer, staring directly at you without blinking.

"S-Stay away!" You shout, begging for any of your teammates to arrive, to help you.

"(Y/N)... my (Y/N)... Wasp loves (Y/N)... Wasp never stopped loving (Y/N)... and Wasp never letting sparkmate go... not again." Waspinator mumbles, to the let out a screech and tackle you to the ground.

You cry and try to fire your weapon at the predacon, struggling to get free from his grasp as he holds your servos down.

"(Y/N) AND WASP WILL BE TOGETHER AGAIN! NO ONE WILL RUIN (Y/N)'S AND WASPS' LIVES AGAIN!" Waspinator cries, to then laugh. "WASPINATOR WILL KILL BUMBLEBEE, AND AUTOBOTS - EVERYONE! (Y/N) AND WASPINATOR WILL FREE AND HAPPY AGAIN!"

Pinkie promise I did my best to write this!!! Silly guy, tragic silly guy.

(。・ω・。) Vhaos out!

[awaywith-thefaeries]

YOU MIGHT WANT TO STEP ASIDE | j.seresin

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x floyd!reader

summary: two times your boyfriend and twin brother had to stand up for you, and the one time you shocked them by doing it yourself

warnings: anxiety, shy reader, protective Hangman, protective Bob, insecure reader, self doubt.

a/n: this idea came about when @cherieann-2001 and I were discussing the dagger squad with twin siblings, and we came up with Bob’s twin sis. @cherieann-2001 i’m sorry this took me so long! I hope you like 😊.

word count: 4K

masterlist

the time where your brother introduces you to his friends…

The noise coming from the beachfront bar makes you pause as you follow behind your twin brother. Your hand reaches up unconsciously to grab at the back of Robert's uniform, tugging just hard enough to make your brother pause and turn around to see your eyes shooting from side to side, one of your clear tells when you're nervous.

"You're ok, y/n/n," Robert says gently, bringing his hands up to rest on your shoulder's, knowing from experience that the weight of it brings you comfort when you start to get anxious.

"I...I d....don't think I w...want to g...go in there, Robbie," you say, tripping over your words as your breathing starts to get heavy.

"It's gonna be okay, y/n/n, you're gonna be just fine," Robert says again, pulling you into a tight hug in which you manage to get your breathing under control, "it's just gonna be Nat and some of my squad, we'll have our own table and you don't have to talk to anyone else for the entire night if you want."

Robert can see the exact moment when you make the decision to come into the bar, the spark of curiosity lighting in your eyes at the mention of your brother's co-pilot. You had met Natasha "Phoenix" Trace shortly after your brother's squadron had been permanently assigned to the San Diego base, where you had been working as a kindergarten teacher for the on-base school for the past two years. Being so close to your brother again has been so fun, with the two of you hanging out in every spare moment you had.

The two of you had grown up very close, with Robert being the protective older brother (by three minutes, you had always been quick to whisper sarcastically under your breath whenever he had tried to pull rank) to your quiet, unconfrontational manner.

"Are you ready to go in, or do you need a minute?" Robert asks, hand coming up to rest on the top of your head.

"I...I'm ready," you say, reaching out to tug on your brother's arm and follow after him as he puts his arm around your shoulders and steers you toward the entrance to the bar, under the shining sign reading THE HARD DECK.

Immediately, the noise of the bar makes you flinch and Robert's arm around your shoulders squeezes slightly, and you turn to look at him, finding him already looking at you, asking you if you're okay with his eyes.

You nod at him and tap on his hand, which he lets fall off of your shoulder as he nods towards a booth near the back of the bar, situated right by a pool table. You drop slightly behind him as you follow, preferring to take in your new surroundings from your slightly hidden vantage point behind your brother.

"Bob!" A voice calls from the direction of the table, and you peek slightly around your brother's shoulder to watch as a tall blonde man with the most beautiful smile you've ever seen saunters up to Robert and swings an arm around his shoulders, pulling him forward into a light headlock. You watch, slightly frozen as your brother laughs and fake punches the new man in the stomach, causing him to release Robert, and take a step back, hands going to his hips, stance relaxed as he smiles.

You're so entranced with watching your brother and his pretty friend that you don't notice Natasha coming up on your right, holding a glass of sparkling water in one hand.

"Hey, Y/n," she says softly, just loud enough for you to hear, but not so loud as to startle you.

You turn to look at her, and the first real smile of the night graces your lips.

"Hi Nat," you say, voice quiet as she smiles. She gently holds out the glass of sparkling water to you.

"For you!"

You look down and take the drink from her, thanking her shyly as she smiles at you and tips her head towards the booth, inviting you to go sit with her.

You glance at your brother, finding him already watching you, the tiniest gleam of pride in his eyes as he nods encouragingly. You smile and as you’re turning back to Nat, your eyes meet those of the man who had greeted your brother. He’s looking at you, not staring so much as just observing, and you shiver a little under the the intensity of his green eyed gaze.

Taking a tiny leap of faith, that has your stomach whooshing from the unfamiliarity of it all, you shoot the stranger a shy smile, before quickly ducking your head and sitting down next to your friend.

Much later, you’ve loosened up enough to laugh a little with Nat, who has been sitting with you at the table since you’d arrived. You have even met some of your brothers other pilot friends, including the first guy who had approached the two of you. You’ve learned that his name was Jake, but everyone calls him Hangman. You haven’t had the courage to ask why they call him that, but you noticed your eyes straying to the tall blonde more times than you care to admit. He just has this aura around him that makes you gravitate towards him, although your anxiety won’t let you do more than watch from afar.

“Hey, I’m gonna run to the ladies room, are you good here for a bit?” Nat asks you, scooting out of the booth and standing, waiting near the head of the table. You smile, nodding as you wave her away, scooting out of the booth as well.

“Yeah, I’m gonna g…go get another drink, I think,” you say and Nat nods, before heading towards the back of the bar.

You watch her go for a second, then glance around to spot your brother in the middle of a game of pool with one of his friends, Coyote, you remember.

You steal yourself and then make your way through the crowded space, ducking between people until you stand at an open space at the bar.

You watch as the pretty bartender, smiles at the brown haired man she was talking to, who you remember is called Maverick, before making her way over to you.

“Hey, can I grab you a refill?” The woman asks, nodding to the empty glass in your hand.

“Um y…yes pl….please,” you say, stuttering through your words.

The woman’s smile puts you a little bit more at ease, as she asks what you’re drinking.

“Just sp…sparkling w….water.”

The woman nods at you and takes the cup from you. As she uses the soda spout to refill your glass, she introduces herself as Penny, the owner of the Hard Deck.

“We don’t usually get a lot of new customers this time of year,” she says, pushing the newly full glass back towards you, “are you new to town, or just passing through?”

Something about the way she seems so at ease puts you immediately at ease, and you only trip over your words once as you answer, voice getting a little stronger with each word.

“I live about t…ten minutes away, and my brother is in the Navy, he was just recently assigned here. I don’t usually go out by myself, but he asked me to meet some of his friends here tonight.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, who’s your brother?” Penny inquires.

“Um Robert Floyd? You’d probably know him as Bob.”

You wave a hand in the direction of your brother. Penny nods, turning back to you with a smile.

“Well you are always welcome at the Hard Deck! I didn’t catch your name, dear.”

You give your name, and Penny smiles at you once more, before heading off to help another customer.

You look down at your glass to hide the small smile that plays across your lips at the idea that you just met someone without the buffer of your brother.

You’re so caught up in your own head as you make your way back through the tables, you don’t notice the man until it’s too late.

A body slams into yours from the front, causing your water to splash over your hands and down your front as you stumble backwards. Just as you feel yourself falling, a warm presence appears at your back, steadying you with an arm around your shoulders as another pushes out in front of you. The tan hand shoves the man who had hit you, sending him away from you with such a force that he staggers before righting himself.

You look up at the person who saved you, only slightly surprised to see Jake already staring down at you, concern apparent in his gorgeous green eyes.

“What the fuck man?!” The man who had shoved you says loudly, causing you to jump slightly and subconsciously move in closer to Jake’s side.

“Watch where you’re going!” Jake’s voice holds the slightest hint of anger and you instinctively deflate a bit as you open your mouth to apologize.

“Not you, sweets,” Jake says, unknowingly making your heart flutter wildly in your chest at the name, “you did nothing wrong.”

Jake’s hand smooths over your shoulder, as he glares at the other man. The guy scoffs and looks around, as if making sure he doesn’t have an audience, before swinging his glare back to you and Jake.

“Um, I didn’t do anything wrong here! She was the one not looking where she was going!” He accuses, gesturing at you and making you shrink even further into Jake’s side, shame rising when you feel your eyes start to burn with tears.

“You’re gonna want to watch how you speak to her, jackass.”

Jake’s voice is so hard that the guy visibly blanches, and not so subtly takes a step back and away from the angry pilot at your side.

“Apologize to her for spilling her drink, and then fuck right off.” Jake commands, and the guy mutters the quietist apology you’ve ever heard and then disappears into the crowd.

Jake’s hand strokes over your shoulder one more time and then it’s gone. You turn to look up at the man who had come to your rescue, and Jake gently smiles down at you.

“You alright, y/n?” He asks, gaze sweeping quickly over the front of your dress, clearly soaked through from your spilled water, before flicking back up to your face.

“I….I’m o…okay,” you stutter, shame rising at the idea of this handsome man seeing you so humiliated, “th…thank y…you for rescuing m…me.”

“It’s no trouble, sweets,” Jake says easily, swinging his big green jacket off of his shoulders and draping it over your form.

“What do you need?” He asks, once you’ve settled into the material, hiding your soaked dress, noticing your eyes darting around quickly.

Jake’s niece is a shy little thing who has many of the same tendencies that Jake has recognized in you throughout the evening as he watched you sitting with Phoenix. He saw the way your natural tendency is to roll your shoulders forward slightly and curl in on yourself, your hair falling forward to hide that beautiful face from the world.

You stand staring at him in shock for a few seconds, before mentally shaking yourself.

“I’m o…okay, just maybe to sit back down,” you say, and Jake nods, guiding you back over to the booth.

“Wait right here, I’m gonna go grab you another soda water, and then we’ll just sit here until everyone’s ready to go, okay?” Jake asks as you sit down. You nod at him, playing with your fingers as you wait. Once you hear him walk away, you glance up and survey the bar, spotting Nat and your brother engaged in a pool game with Coyote and Rooster watching on.

You shuffle yourself a little deeper into Jake’s jacket, and close your eyes for a few moments, breathing deeply to let the shocking encounter roll off your shoulders.

“You doing okay, y/n/n?” Robert asks as he slides into the booth next to you. You smile up at him, letting your head fall on his shoulder as his arm comes up to rest over your shoulders.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You feel your lips pull up into a smile as you watch Jake lean against the bar and chat with Penny and Maverick, while Penny pours another sparkling water.

“Good.” Your brother is smiling at you when you turn your head to look at him. You grin back, and then let your head drop back onto his shoulder, waiting for Jake to come back with your drink and letting yourself relax into the evening. You might have been anxious going into this evening, but you feel perfectly at ease right now, with your brothers arm around your shoulders and your new (and ridiculously handsome) friend sinking down into the other side of the booth and sliding a fresh glass across the table to you, eyes bright as he settles into a comfortable conversation with your brother.

✯✯✯✯

the time where someone makes the mistake of cutting in front of jake’s girlfriend in line…

The sun is glistening brightly over the ocean as you sit back against your boyfriend’s chest, a soft beach towel beneath you and a book in hand.

The waves lapping against the sand, and the familiar feel of Jake’s fingers combing through your hair lull you comfortably towards sleep, and you close your book, setting it beside you on the towel as you lay your head back against Jake’s shoulder. You eyes are closed as you feel your boyfriend’s arm come up to drape across your chest, caging you into his embrace.

“What are you doing, sweets?” Jake’s voice brings you back from the edge of sleep, his lips brushing across your forehead as his arm across your chest squeezes gently, his fingers drawing small nonsensical patterns on you collar bone.

“Just taking in the moment,” you sigh, shifting to meet his eyes, head still resting on his shoulder. His green eyes gleam with mischief as he meets your gaze.

“But I want to know who she picks,” he says, gesturing to the novel you had put down.

Embarrassment flushes through you as you think about the romance book you had been reading, with its drama filled love triangle.

“Y…you were r…reading it?” You ask, tripping over a few of your words, face burning as you turned your head back to the ocean, away from Jake.

“Hey,” Jake drops his face to your neck, nuzzling you and pressing kisses to the sensitive skin there, “don’t be embarrassed. It was quite an interesting story.”

“Y…you really think so?”

“Of course, y/n/n! I like everything you read.”

“O…okay,” you smile, getting distracted by the attention your boyfriend is lavishing on your neck. You squirm in his grasp as he blows into your neck, causing the two of you to start laughing, as you shake him off and then immediately curl back into his chest, yawning as you snuggle into him.

“What do you wanna do for the afternoon then, Sweets?” Jake asks, fingers going back to trace across your collarbone.

“I don’t know, but I know I’m going to need a coffee for it if it involves being awake,” you say, the heat of the day and the general sense of comfort you feel around your boyfriend contributing to your sleepiness.

“Alright then, baby, let’s get you caffeinated!” Jake says, putting your book into the tote bag lying next to him, before helping you up and shaking out your towel, “Call me selfish, but I’m definitely gonna be wanting your sweet company for a lot longer today.”

You giggle as you hold the bag open for him to deposit the now folded towel in, grinning as Jake uses the opportunity to brush a kiss over your nose. He grins back at you, taking the tote from your hands and slinging it over his shoulder, crooking his elbow so that you can hold his arm.

You snuggle in as close to his side as possible while walking, letting him lead you toward the beaches parking lot and his truck.

You climb into the passenger side after Jake opens the door for you, settling into the well worn leather seat, as your boyfriend starts the engine, pulling out of the beachside parking lot, through a neighborhood, and onto the little high street of your seaside town.

A few minutes later, you’re standing in line outside your favorite coffee truck. Jake has run to the restroom in the shop across the street, leaving you to keep your place in the line, which due to the popularity of the truck, wraps quite far down the sidewalk. You are standing quietly, content to just observe the going’s on of the little high street, when you feel more than see a body push in front of you in line, knocking you back and off balance. You stumble, bumping into the woman behind you, who kindly steadies you, smiling as you stutter out an apology, face flushing in embarrassment.

“No worries, my dear, it wasn’t your fault,” she says, shooting a dirty look over your shoulder at the line cutter, before smiling at you once more and going back to reading the magazine she’s holding.

You turn back to face the man now standing in front of you, as if he’d been waiting in line like the rest of you. You start to think about just letting him stay in the line in front of you, before thinking fuck it and clearing your throat loudly.

The stranger turns around, and the look in his eyes makes you wish you had just let him cut the line. But you’ve come this far and you can hear your brother’s voice in your head telling you to stand up for yourself and not let anyone push you around, so you lift your chin, and ball your hands to stop them from shaking.

“Yes?” The stranger grunts, glowering at you as if you were the one in the wrong.

“Y..you just c..cut in the line. It actually starts b..back there,” you say, pointing down the sidewalk to where the last person in line is standing. You’re trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, wanting to believe that he had just accidentally just into the line.

The guy just stares at you for a long moment, and you grow more and more uncomfortable by the second. You eventually drop your arm, and wait for him to step back out of the line.

“I…i…i…is it r…r…really,” he scoffs, exaggerating the stutter he puts on as he takes a step closer to you, staring down at you with a mena glint in his eye. “What are you going to do about it, huh?”

Your stomach drops as he crowds you, eyes welling with unwanted tears, which you try furiously to not let escape. You take a deep breath, something which he notices and smirks at, eyes portraying that he’s fully confident in his victory.

Just as you open your mouth to say something, you feel a familiar presence at you back, as your boyfriend slings an arm around your chest, pulling you back into his.

“Here’s what you’re gonna do, buddy,” Jake’s voice is all authority, as he stares down the other man, while simultaneously providing you comfort by letting his fingers stroke over your shoulder as his arm across your chest acts as a protective, comforting barrier, “you’re gonna back the fuck off from my girl, you’re gonna apologize, and then you’re gonna march yourself right to the back of the line and wait, just like everyone else is.

The two men seem locked in a stare down for a few tense moments, as your hands come up to grip Jake’s forearm. The line cutter holds strong for a solid five seconds longer before blinking and taking a step back.

“Fine, whatever.” You and Jake watch him as he walks away, not even in the direction of the end of the line.

You feel Jake’s arm tighten briefly across your front, before it fell away, one hand gripping your hand, spinning you around and into his arms. You hands land on his chest, and you stare up at him, struck breathless from the clear adoration in your boyfriends eyes.

“You okay, Sweets?” He asks, on hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah,” you sigh, and he searches your eyes for a few moments, no doubt making ure you were being truthful, before dropping his head to brush his lips against yours.

“Well aren’t you two just the sweetest.”

You pull away from Jake and look towards the voice, seeing the woman who you’d stumbled into. She was smiling, the skin around her eyes crinkling as she does. You smile back, slightly apologetically.

“I’m sorry again for knocking into you,” you say, still feeling guilty despite knowing that it hadn’t really been your fault. The woman waves you off.

“It’s no problem at all, dear,” she says, before glancing between you and Jake. Jake nods at her, silently thanking her for helping you out. She smiles back, eyes glazing over for a second.

“You two have a beautiful day, alright,” she says, before gesturing to the coffee truck’s open window, which you hadn’t even realized had gotten closer, till you were the next people in line.

“You too, Ma’am,” Jake says, hooking an arm around your waist, “now, let’s get you caffeinated, baby.”

✯✯✯✯

the time where someone makes the mistake of hitting on Jake in front of his girl…

🎶Slow Ride. Take it Easy🎶

You laugh, bright and open as you and Jake walk in to THE HARD DECK to the first strains of “Slow Ride” coming from the jukebox in the corner. When you look over towards the music corner, you laugh even harder as you spot your brother and Rooster grinning back at you, and the man next to you.

“Of course, it was them,” Jake laughs, and guides you towards the group of pilots who had quickly become your friends after Bob introduced you that first night at the Hard Deck.

When you reach the table, you sit next to Phoenix and Jake scoots in after you.

“How has everyone been?” You asks, shifting into Jake’s side as his arm takes up its usual spot around your shoulders. Your brother scoots into the booth across from you, and pushes your favorite drink towards you.

“Thanks Robbie,” you smile, raising the drink to your lips and taking a sip.

Much later, you and Natasha are coming back from the bathroom together, where you both had been freshening up after an intense match of darts between Jake and Bradley had left you both crying with laughter, which subsequently caused your mascara to run.

“Omg, look y/n/n,” Nat says, pointing towards the bar, where a fake busty blonde is currently trying to shove her boobs into your boyfriends face.

“Not again,” you complain, which causes Nat to laugh and loop her arm through yours, as you make your way through the throngs of bar patrons to your table. You keep you eyes on the blonde currently chatting up your Jake, although he remains completely un-responsive to her advances.

It’s only when she starts to brush her hand along Jake’s arm, and leans in the closest she’s ever attempted that you and Nat both stand up, and Natasha looks to you for a moment.

“You want me to deal with her?” She asks, rolling her shoulders as if preparing to physically remove the woman from the bar. You love your friend for being so ready to come to your aid, but based on the fact that regardless of Jake’s repeated dismissal of the blonde, this is the third week in a row that she has tried, even you and your non confrontational nature are getting frustrated. Natasha and Bob have dealt with distracting the woman away from Jake every other time she has attempted to put the moves on, but this time, you shake your head at your friend and motion for her to sit down again.

“No, thank you Nat, but I think I’m going to go over there tonight,” you say, the two drinks you had had earlier giving you a courage you normally didn’t possess as you push your hair away from your face and turn to walk over to the blonde to hopefully, finally get this woman to back off from your man, leaving Nat cackling gleefully in your wake.

Meanwhile, Jake drums his fingers in a nonsensical pattern on the bar as he keeps his gaze firmly off of the woman on his right, currently crossing her arms under her breasts, so that her tiny top strains to keep her breasts in.

Penny smiles at him as she slides his beer over to him.

“There you are, soldier.” She says, and Jake laughs at her, shooting her his signature grin as he lifts the pint to his lips ad takes a swig.

“Thanks a million, Penny Pie,” Jake says, jokingly using the nickname that the squad had given Penny when she and Maverick had announced to them that they were getting married.

As Penny walks away, the blonde, Jake thinks her name was Jessica?, moves closer to Jake, brushing his arm with her chest and blinking her heavily lined eyes up at him.

“Oh, the bartenders taken, stud,” she says, in a tone which suggests she thinks that she is saving Jake from a horrible heartbreak. He shifts away from her again and is about to ask her to please leave him alone, when someone beats him to it.

“So is he.”

A grin immediately finds its way onto Jake’s face at the sound of your voice and he turns around, immediately spotting you a few feet away, arms crossed over your chest, eyes glaring at Jessica and an adorable pout on your lips.

“Hi, baby,” he says, opening his free arm for you. You move towards him and wrap your arms around his middle, leaning against him. You kept your glare on Jessica, as the blonde looked between you and Jake, mouth slightly agape.

“Really?” She asks, tone biting and frankly mean, “this is who a stud like you is with?”

Jake frowns, arm tightening around you, as he opens his mouth to defend you. But again, for the second time that night, you beat him to it.

“Yeah, I am,” you say, smiling at the blonde who glares back at you, “and I’m also the person who he’s going to continue to be with, so you might wanna step aside and take your desperate attempts elsewhere.”

You flick your hand at her, still riding the high of your drinks from earlier and then once she leaves, you turn your head you look up at your boyfriend. Jake is gazing down at you, the look in his eyes heated.

“Baby…” he trails off, hand coming up to brush across your cheek, “that was…”

You smile a little sheepishly up at him.

“A little out of character I know,” you say, feeling a little dramatic and self-conscious for what you just did.

“…extremely hot.” Jake finishes his sentence, grinning as he brings you in for a kiss.

“I love you, Jake,” you whisper against his lips.

“I love you too, baby.”

a/n: thank you so much for reading! My requests are open, so if there is anything you’d like to see me write, please check my rules and feel free to ask! I should be able to get to a lot more because I’m free from college for the summer! I always love to chat and appreciate every reblog, comment and like. Happy Reading!