#and they’d be like ‘?? we saw you get on the plane??’

[beedlemania]

Headcanon that one of the guys started dating this girl who was visiting from England. The hitch; her little brother followed her everywhere. She eventually went back to England but the guys could not shake this kid.

That’s how Davy joined the Monkees

[seresinhangmanjake]

Forgetting

Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: Jake forgets to pick you up at the airport because of his ex, and for the first time, you think maybe you and Jake aren't mean to be.

Notes/Warnings: Angst, but ends fluffy. Fighting. Cursing. This was a request that I said I'd have done in a couple days and it took me a week and a half. Sorry about that. Also, please be gentle. I haven't written for Jake in what feels like a millennium.

Words: 2700

Jake Seresin Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

As much as it would kill you to know that he could be hurt, you hope he’s hurt. You hope he’s on his way to the hospital to receive life-saving treatment because if he’s not hurt, if he’s not receiving life-saving treatment, then he simply forgot about you. And that makes your heart want to claw its way out of your chest and scamper across the floor until it’s well out of your range to catch it. 

Your call goes to voicemail for the fourth time. You send your twelfth text: I hope you’re ok. I landed an hour ago. Please call me. Nothing different than the eleven other messages that have gone unanswered. Forty-five more minutes pass of you sitting on a bench by the airport exit before you finally surrender your last shred of hope and call Bradley to come save you. 

Within the hour, you’re sighing in relief, the sight of a friendly face almost bringing you to tears. He approaches you with open arms and you fall right into the embrace, comforted by the hug that should be in your boyfriend’s arms, and the warmth that should be from your boyfriend’s body, and the forehead kiss that should be from your boyfriend’s lips. 

“Please tell me he’s ok,” you say against your friend’s chest. 

A heavy palm rubs up and down your back. “No one could get ahold of him.”

Your head jerks back so you can meet his eyes. “Oh my god!”

“I’m sure he’s fine, kid. Don’t worry.”

“How can you say that? He was supposed to be here and he’s not and–” You pause when Bradley looks away from you, and a hefty stone settles in your gut. You know your friend well. He’s a good man, honest but sensitive, and when that honestly meets that sensitivity, it results in his inability to look someone in the eye if he thinks the truth might hurt them. You’ve seen it a hundred times, but never with you. 

Your posture wavers with your lengthy exhale. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Another great thing about Bradley: he doesn’t make you play any games. You don’t have to jump through hoops. You don’t have to ask the right questions in the right way in order to get what you need out of him, unlike many men, your boyfriend included, who recently has found ways to skitter around telling the full truth. 

“Javy said he saw him a couple of hours ago,” Bradley says.

Your back teeth clench. Your mind shoots to one conclusion. “With her?” you ask. Bradley’s eyes drift from yours again and you nod, a tear at the ready to leak down your cheek. “He forgot about me because he’s with her.”

“We don’t know that for sure, and–”

Your hand scrubbing down your face cuts him off. Your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose before you suck in your whimper and say, “Rooster, why did he even ask me to come here?”

“Because he…I mean, we thought he–”

“You thought he gave a fuck about me.”

“He does,” Bradley says, stressing his words in an attempt to reassure you. “He never shuts up about you.”

“Sure,” you say. “He gives so much of a fuck that he forgot about me to be with his ex. How can you explain that?”

Rooster sighs. His hands slip into his jeans pockets just to have something to do with them. “I can’t.”

“Exactly.” 

No one can explain it. Not you, not Bradley, not Jake. Everyone you know back home would be telling you to run for the hills right now. They were already wary of this ‘Navy guy’ that they’d only met twice around the holidays, who lives a decent distance away from your entire life and who constantly requests that you be the one to hop on a plane rather than the other way around. 

For the duration of your time together, you’ve been understanding of that sacrifice. You know his schedule doesn’t allow impromptu trips out of state, but that hasn’t made it any less exhausting for you. And maybe that’s a sign. Another sign. A nail in the coffin. Maybe you and Jake aren’t meant to be. And why would you be? You met him on a brief vacation to visit a friend who doesn’t even live in the same town anymore, and somehow, during those few days, he convinced you to take a chance on him. So you took the leap. But being that bold doesn’t guarantee you won’t fall flat on your face, and you think that’s exactly what’s happening. You’ve tripped over a guy only to realize he doesn’t care about you to the same degree that you care about him. 

However, you’re not the type to avoid confrontation. If Jake Seresin is going to mistreat you because of his ex, then he is going to do it to your face. He’s going to look you in the eye when he shows himself to be the liar he is. It may hurt more to go to him rather than get on the next plane home without so much as taking in a breath of fresh Californian air, but you’re too upset to let that thought fully develop, and a moment later, Rooster is following your stomps out the door. 

—

You find him at the Hard Deck, standing at a hightop with a beer glass in his hand that clinks against the one in his ex’s before he takes a sip. Bradley’s comforting hand lands on your back in solidarity. You only met him because of Jake, but the two of you bonded despite their differences, and having him by your side now makes him nothing short of a life-saver. 

He helps guide you through the crowd to the table, and when Jake spots you, he chokes around the liquid going down his throat. His blown-out emerald eyes rival saucers and his mouth gapes like a fish, but then his stare flicks to Bradley, and those eyes shrink into narrow slits. His face heats to a boiling red. 

“What the fuck!” Jake snaps, shocking the composure right out of his ex’s poised stance. Bar patrons close by turn their heads but quickly return to their own conversations. Jake steps away from the table, coming to a halt in front of you and his squadmate. “What the hell is this?”

You figured he’d be bothered if you showed up with Bradley in tow. And good, that’s what you feel he deserves. Jake’s been wary of the other Dagger’s closeness to you for a while, and even though you know—as does Bradley—that it’s an asinine concern, you have no problem using it against him now. But still, the intensity of his reaction manages to surprise you. You didn’t think he would be this angered by the sight of you with another man that it would have him overlooking his mistake of forgetting you.

Your arms cross. “This is your girlfriend and the guy who saved her when her damn boyfriend left her stranded at the airport.”

“Excuse me?”

Jake’s ex’s prying gaze tugs at your attention, but when you glance over his shoulder to catch her in the act, she quickly looks away—just more proof that whatever the fuck she’s doing with your boyfriend is something to be ashamed of. 

Bradley’s saying something. You can’t quite hear him over the anger-induced fuzzing in your ears, but you’re pretty sure it’s a scolding based on the twisting of Jake’s features as he shoots back his own words of aggression. And then your hand is in his and you’re being pulled through the bar, out the back door, and onto the deck where the only intrusive sound is the lapping of waves on the shore. 

“Why are you here?” he asks. 

You scoff to mask the heartbreak that comes with that question. “Because you asked me to be here.”

“Tomorrow.”

“What?”

“It’s Wednesday,” he says. 

“It’s Thursday, Jake.”

“No, it’s—” he freezes, and you don’t know if he’s tipsy or stupid, but it takes him a minute to come to the same conclusion: it is indeed Thursday. “Fuck,” he mutters.

Your lower back meets the edge of the railing, and you sigh, thankfully keeping in the tears. “What are you doing with her?”

“What the fuck are you doing with Rooster?” he returns much more forcefully. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I called, I texted, I left voicemails,” you tell him, “But clearly, she was more important.”

Jake’s hands pat down his pockets, mouth setting in a frown when he can’t find his phone.

“Don’t bother. Phone or no phone, you forgot about me because of her. Last time I was here, you were late for one of our dates because of her. You spent fifty percent of our time together stepping away to take her phone calls,” you say, trying and failing to avoid the bitter taste on your tongue. “Just fuck her, Jake, if you haven’t already. I only came here to tell you that she can have you.”

You’ve never seen him fall apart the way he does. You’ve never seen the blood drain from his cocky face. You’ve never seen his features break and crack and contort into the vision of pure devastation as they do. His parted mouth must’ve gone dry because his next words come out slightly hoarse.

“You don’t mean that,” he says, but it’s more of a plea than anything. “Why…Why would you–” He swallows. A wrinkle forms between his brows and he shakes his head. “You love me. You didn’t mean to say that.”

You do love him—terribly so—but you’re willing to be one of those people who won’t view love as enough if it also means laying you out as a fool. “Jake–”

“Take it back,” he says. His steps are quick, and then you’re trapped where you stand, his hands on either side of your body, gripping the rail. Eyes drill into yours, and for a second, you feel a pang of guilt. “Please, baby, take it back. She doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“And I mean less.”

“No!” he says. “That’s not true. You’re everything, ok? You mean everything to me. She was just helping me, that’s all.”

“Helping you,” you mimic with a roll of your eyes. “Helping you what? Get off?”

With a little whine, Jake’s head drops between his shoulders, his blond hair brushing your collarbone. “Please. Please quit saying things like that.” His hands slide closer to your body and land on your hips. You don’t push him away—you can't—and his touch softens you ever so slightly.

“Then tell me the truth,” you say. “Right now. I’m giving you one shot.”

His head snaps up. His eyes flick back and forth between yours, ironically searching for your honesty, as if you’re the liar on trial here. 

“It was a surprise,” he tells you. “She’s a realtor now, and for the last few months she’s been helping me find a new place, one that’s bigger than what I’ve got because I was going to ask you to move in with me.” Your heartbeat stutters. A layer of goosebumps coats your arms. When you don’t respond, he continues, “I hate missing you. I hate how unfair it is that you’re always the one to come here because I can’t fly out at the drop of a hat. I know it’s a big step, but I figured if I had a place, I could show you how great things could be. That’s why she and I came here. We were celebrating because I’m signing on a house first thing tomorrow,” he says. “Well, that’s why I’m celebrating, anyway. She’s probably celebrating because she just made a decent commission.”

It’s almost unfair how that new information doesn’t make you feel any less of a fool. Had he told you that under any other circumstances, you’d be leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve been deprived of him for years, repeating ‘yes’ over and over between those kisses, but you can’t. You can’t because his explanation doesn’t fix everything. 

“That still doesn’t change that it’s Thursday, not Wednesday,” you say.

“I know, baby. That’s my fault. I was so excited, and I was thinking how perfect the timing was that I would be able to pick you up tomorrow and drive you by the house now that it’s officially mine, but I fucked it up.”

Jake’s thumbs press into your hips, and you’re instantly reminded of each moment in your relationship when you’ve felt that same light pressure on your skin. A gentle claiming. The same pressure you felt when you agreed to be his girlfriend. The same pressure you feel whenever you’re in bed together. 

You sense eyes on you other than your boyfriend’s, and when you turn your head, you find his ex staring right at you, an expression on her face that you wish you could say wasn’t one of distress, but it is. And worse, it’s obviously not distress for herself, but for Jake, as if she’s hoping she wasn’t just a contributor to a bomb dropping on his life. 

Jake’s busy staring at you despite your averted gaze, and in a monotone voice, you say, “She feels bad.”

He doesn’t follow your eyes. “Because she knows I’ve been doing this all for you.”

You blink. Your hand runs down your face before sifting through the strands of your hair. “You really want me to live with you?”

“Of course I do,” he tells you. He’s shaking his head, but you know it’s because he thinks any idea that he wouldn’t want you to be blasphemous. His hand cups your chin. “I love you.”

With a sigh, you push aside the rollercoaster of emotions, the misunderstandings that lead to frustration and hurt, and look him directly in the eye. And where moments ago you thought you saw lies, you see honestly. Where you thought you saw betrayal, you see love. 

“Can I see it?”

—

It’s small—a two-bedroom with a little driveway, the shingle siding painted a blue-gray shade that is more blue than gray; bundles of flowers bloom in the boxes under the windows; a bay window protrudes from the side of the structure facing the beach. And it’s perfect.

You can imagine building a life here. You can picture a dog that you’ll have to build a fence for and children years later that will have you reinforcing the fence because they’ll probably be like their father, and Jake didn’t choose to be a pilot because of his lack of adventurous nature. You look at this house and you can see the core of a family. A house that, no matter how far you go for Jake’s job, will always be home base.

Jake is leaning around you so you can both watch the house from the passenger seat window. “I’d offer to show you around, but I don’t get the keys until morning.”

“It’s ok,” you tell him. “I don’t need to see inside.”

When you say that, he falls back into his seat. The back of his head presses against the headrest. His fingers squeeze the steering wheel with his sigh of defeat. “You don’t like it.”

Shifting your body to face him, you say, “Jake, I love it.”

Just like that, his eyes brighten like a pouting child who was just offered a lollipop, and you can’t help but chuckle. You can’t help but forget everything that happened earlier in the night, all of it seeming so insignificant now, even though you know it’s not, and you both know that if he ever makes the same mistake again, he’ll have hell to pay. But something tells you that won’t be a problem. 

“Enough to live with me?” he asks.

You nod. “Enough to live with you.”

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Comments make my entire world, so if you liked it, let me know? Thanks :)

[beah388love]

Double Trouble

Full Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: Dad!Lando x Fem!Reader

Summary: The twins first Grand Prix and their first time on a plane

Warnings: Swearing,mentions of sick (if I’ve missed any please tell me!!)

“Lan…! Lan..!” You said as you poked his sleeping form, he looked so cute and comfy but you had to wake him up since you had to get to the airport in exactly three hours. “Lando!” You said loudly as you shoved him and he turned his face into his pillow with a groan “mh…”

“Lando Norris! If you don’t wake up in the next-“ you huffed but was cut off by him pulling you down on top of him “shh..m’ sleepin...” he groaned with a yawn, “lando let me up! We need to get ready to leave!” You huffed annoyed as you struggled to get out of his grasp, hitting his arm that was wrapped around your stomach.

“I’m not gonna let go.” he said but it came out muffled from his face being nuzzled into your hair.

You sighed in defeat “please lan..we need to leaveee” you huffed as you tried to get up again but failed.

Lando sucked in a breath “fineee” he groaned placing a kiss on your cheek, “c’mon sleepyhead” you grinned as you stood up, pulling him up with you.

“Are the boys awake?” He asked groggily and you nodded with a smile “yeah they’re awake, we need to keep them awake until the airport so they sleep on the plane..hopefully” you said a sigh at the end,

“Okay…lets go sort all the boys clothes out first” lando said as he put his clothes on and you nodded, you both walked together to the boys room and smiled when you saw them awake in their cots.

“Babe? Where are the bags?” Lando asked as he looked around their bedroom, “they’re in the wardrobe!” You said from the hallway and he nodded to himself as he grabbed the matching baby blue bags, “alright..okay..so clothes, hats, socks and…nappies” lando said as he counted with his fingers, also grabbing each thing and folding them into the bag.

“Alright I’m gonna go breastfeed them…don’t forget their dummies!” You said but lando didn’t hear,

“Babe? I’ve got their bags ready, and I packed our suitcase! Anything else we need?” Lando asked as he placed the bags down by the front door.

“Yeah just little bits to add but other than that..no” you said as you thought about your list, “okay…I’ll grab that and then I’ll help you get the boys in the car” he said and you nodded with a smile as you picked the boys up in your arms, pulling your top down to breastfeed them.

-

“Thanks mate” lando said to the cab driver as he helped him gets the bags in the boot, you leaned over Archie and grabbed his seatbelt strapping it, and smiled when he began giggling at you. “What’s so funny huh?” You cooed making him giggle more.

You sat in the middle of their car seats, making sure to keep them awake so they’d have their nap on the plane but that didn’t go too well..

Lando paid the cab driver before grabbing the bags and walking with you inside, you held both the boys on each hip, Alfie resting his head on your shoulder tiredly while Archie drooled onto his now dirty onesie.

You stood in cue to weigh your bags, “I hate these stupid cues” lando grumbled annoyed as he looked at his phone for the time.

“Hey excuse me ma’am! I need to go now!” A man asked the worker and she sighed “sir you’ll have to wait in cue.”

“No! I need to go now! My planes leaving in like ten minutes!” The man said and she huffed “alright you can go through” she said as she unclipped the line stopper,

“That’s bullshit.” You muttered and lando grinned at you “sh..his plane is leaving in ten” lando hushed you as you made an angry face, he smirked at your impatience.

“Whatever. I think he should wait like the rest of us.” You huffed making him bite back a laugh.

“Well- weren’t not exactly normal babe. We have a private jet- anyway c’mon that’s us” he grinned as you walked with him, lifting up Alfie on your hip as he was slipping a bit. “Lan? Did you bring their teddies?” You asked him and he nodded “yeah they’re in their bags” he said as he grabbed your suitcase and wrapped the ticket around the handle.

-

You and lando waited by the jet, “want me to take one of them?” Lando asked and you nodded, “just while we’re waiting, when we go up the stairs you can hold the bags yeah?” You asked and he nodded.

Lando took Archie off of you and held him in his arms also resting him on his hip, “hey buddy, here you go” lando smiled as he handed him his little highland cow teddy, Archie smiled and held it tightly.

“So when can they sleep?” Lando asked you when he saw Archie passed out in his arms, “uh- around now is fine” you said and he sighed in relief.

Lando handed you Archie back when you had to board, Archie started crying from his beauty sleep being disturbed, “Sh..Sh..” you rocked him and then Alfie began to cry too because Archie was crying.

“Not you too…” You sighed as you rocked them both, lando felt bad he felt so useless, and lately the boys had grown attached to you so whenever he tried to take them off you to give you a break they would just cry non-stop.

“Hey” Oscar smiled when he saw you two, “hey osc” you smiled tiredly as you sat down at the window seat, lando chucked your bags under your seats and quickly sat down next to you, “Here, I’ll take one” lando said as he took Alfie off of you, Alfie cried since he was so tired. Lando rubbed his hand up and down his back as he laid his head on his shoulder, “Double trouble huh?” Oscar grinned and lando laughed “you could say that”

“I can help if you want?” Oscar said with a smile and lando shook his head “we’ll be fine thanks though”

“Their first Grand Prix then huh?” Max piped up from the other seat and lando nodded “yep…I even bought them hats” lando grinned like a child as he showed Oscar and Max the number 4 hats he got them, and his own so he can match.

“Oh my god, your so whipped” Max laughed and lando rolled his eyes playfully “duh? Have you seen them?!” He smiled as he placed a kiss on Alfie’s head, he could feel his breathing slow down.

“Uh- lan?” You said and he looked over to you “yeah?”

“Alfie just threw up…” you said and Lando screwed his face up “lovely…” lan half smiled as he held Alfie up and grabbed a babywipe, wiping his face whilst you wiped landos shoulder and back, “here” you said placing Alfie’s muslin on his shoulder to hopefully stop any more sick getting on him.

Archie cried and stirred in your arms, his tiredness catching up with him, “lan? Where are the dummies?” You asked as you looked through their bags. “Shit…” lando said letting his head hit the seat.

“Oh great…” you said as Archie cried in your arms. You shushed him and rocked him until he thankfully fell asleep again.

Liked by McLaren,landonorris,lewishamilton and 2,489,380 others

ynusername: Monaco baby!!! The boys first Grand Prix! 🧡💛 We’re cheering for you baby! p.s you’d lose if I was racing 😘

User1: LMAO THE END OF THE CAPTION IS CRUEL

User2: My fav wag 💞

User3: SHES SO REAL

landonorris: Thanks for the support babe

Maxverstappen: she got u good bro

liked by ynusername

landonorris: who’s side are u on?!

User6: they act like a married couple ( I luv em tho)

User7: LITERALLY LMAO

User4: Anyone else notice the matching hats or just me 🫣

liked by landonorris

User5: omg same-

User6: Can we talk about how big they are already?!

User7: IKR LIKE YESTERDAY THEY WERE BABIES?!

User4: OMG LANDO LIKED MY COMMENT

landonorris: @ynusername see told u they’d notice the hats

ynusername: 🙄

landonorris: no need for the attitude.

landonorris added to their story

User1: AHAISBEHAKA I have no one to talk to abt this 😭

User2: OMG- ADORABLE

ynusername: yeah it was until Lando got thrown up on 🤣

Landonorris: babe- You said we’d keep that between us?!

ynusername: …hehe

-

You and lando left all your bags in your hotel room and used your spare day walking around Monaco, it was quite early but the paparazzi were following you like crazy.

“Omg! This top is GORGEOUS” you gasped as you held it up for lando to look at, waiting for his judgement but it never came he just placed it in the bag along with the other one in a different colour that he liked, you smiled as you pushed the buggy walking around the looking for anything else.

“You want anything?” You asked him and he shook his head “Uh- no we can go and pay baby” he smiled as he sneaked his arm around your waist making you smirk.

You payed and put the bag under the buggy, you left the shops and immediately there were already paparazzi waiting outside the shops, you scrunched your brows from the bright flashing camera lights and instinctively pulled the buggy back, lando quickly stood in front of you and held out his arm to keep them away from you “hey? Give us some space-” Lando said angrily as he walked with you back to the hotel but they didn’t let up, three of them followed you all the way back.

“Hey dude?! Stop.” Lando said angrily “lan.” You shrieked when a man approached you, he grabbed your arm and pulled you to the ground flashing photos of you and the boys, the flashing lights blinding you and scaring the boys awake, they began crying and you quickly ran over to lando by the buggy “Step the fuck away from them!” Lando shouted and the man scurried off, lando took a breath, “c’mon let’s go to our room” he said sternly as he held your hand, you nodded lifting the hood on your hoodie up along with landos for him whilst lando pulled the buggy covers up and lifted the boys hoods up too.

Lando took a minute to walk into your shared bedroom to calm down, you sighed as you picked up the boys taking them to cuddle on the sofa together.

“Baby?” Lando called out when he didn’t see you in the kitchen or hallway “in here!” You said and he smiled when he saw you cuddled up with the twins, “mind if I join?” He asked with a smile and you shook your head shuffling over making room for him.

“I’m sorry..I hate that you have to deal with that..” lando said and you tutted “lando Norris. Do not apologise. It’s not your fault people suck.” You said smiling at the end making him give you a sad smile, “I love you” he said placing a kiss on your forehead, “all of you” he said placing a kiss on each of the boys heads too.

Y/n Y/l/n seen with hers and lando Norris’s twin boys

User1: Bro can’t you guys leave them alone?! They literally are new first time parents they don’t need or want cameras in their faces!

User2: literally! Have you seen the paparazzi photo of lando shouting and you can see one of their twins crying in the background?!

User3: omg! Yes I saw that it was awful.

User1: NO?! What the fuck.

User4: UHM- Can we talk abt the middle picture?! She’s literally crying?!

User5: I honestly feel so bad for her - lando tried to help which made it even more sad

User6: paparazzi should be illegal.

User7: Y’all she’s fine. All they did was take a photo

User8: The man taking the photo literally grabbed her arm and Yanked her?!

User9: have y’all seen the video on twitter?!

User10: what video?

User11: a fan took it from afar, the man taking pics literally grabbed y/n and yanked her arm And then took photos of their twins WITH THE FLASH ON.

Race day.

You wore your baby carrier so you could have both the boys on your front, you decided it would be better for you so they was with you the whole time and was always in your view, you walked into landos drivers room as you waited for him, he was talking to Oscar about something.

Lando laughed as oscar made a joke until something or someone caught his attention. The same man from yesterday, the one who grabbed you and took photos of you all. And he was still taking photos of lando.

Lando grinned and turned around and stuck his middle finger up at the man before walking inside with Oscar, “who’s that?” Oscar asked confused “this dickhead decided to grab y/n by the arm and push her onto the ground just to get photos of the boys, which also woke them up and scared the shit out of em.” Lando explained angrily and Oscar bit his lip awkwardly “I uh- I saw the video this morning” Oscar said and lando furrowed his brows confused “what video?”

Oscar showed him the video on his phone from a random fan that just happened to be there and film it all, “honestly, it gets out of hand sometimes..I mean all i wanted was one day out with my family y’know? Is that too much to ask for?” Lando huffed and Oscar nodded with him understandingly.

“I know mate but you did all you could do, you can see in the video” he said trying to sound comforting and lando nodded “yeah I know…anyway..I’ll see you in a bit I’m gonna go find y/n” lando said before jogging off to his drivers room.

“Y/n?” Lando called out as he opened his driver room door and smiled when he saw you sat on the sofa feeding the boys, “You okay?” He asked as he sat down next to you, “yeah, the boys were hungry and I wanted some privacy” you explained as you breastfed them, they were so cuteeee you could just squish there rosy cheeks all day.

Photo of lando Norris flipping off paparazzi.

User1: and it was deserved.

User2: YESSSS LANDO

User3: damn- bit much no?

User4: NO ITS NOT?! The guy literally harassed y/n

“So before qualifying starts, how do you feel?” The interviewer asked lando and he breathed in “uh- I feel good, y’know the car felt good during practice but qualifying will tell” lando said smiling at the end making the lady laugh.

“Of course yeah. So uh- we saw you flipped a cameraman off over there?” The lady said sticking the mic out to lando, “oh- uh yeah I did..before you jump to any conclusions that was the man that photobombed my family this morning so he deserved it” lando smirked and the lady nodded “yes i saw the video..”

“Yeah, y/n’s okay though and the boys are perfectly fine thankfully, they’re just over there actually” lando smiled as the cameraman panned over to you, you laughed as you waved both the boys hands.

Lando couldn’t hide hide massive smile at your cuteness “Your boys are adorable!” The lady aawed and lando smiled “their so cute and tiny”

“Alright, well we’ll let you go back to them now” she smiled and lando thanked her for talking him before jogging over to you. “How are my favourite people?”

You smile and look down to the boys “we’re good aren’t we?” You smile when they both start smiling and making happy baby noises.

“Daddy” Alfie coos and hold his hand out, grabbing landos racesuit material on his arm in a tight baby grip.

Lando chuckled and smiled warmly at his adorable son.

You look to Lando “how long till the race starts?” Lando thought for a moment “uh- about..half an hour maybe?” You nodded to him “you wanna go to the garage then?”

Lando nodded as he took your hand and began walking with you to the garage.

You heard Archie whine and squirm in the baby carrier “eugghh- down- mummy” he slurs and whines. Kicking his legs as he did.

You sigh “hang on bubba- let me get you down.” You said as you pull him out the baby carrier and steady him on the floor. Making sure he’s balanced before letting go.

“Stay near mummy and daddy yeah?” You say stern and he nods before walking in his little shoes in front of us whilst you and Lando walk closely behind.

Alfie also starts whining when he sees his brother walking “mummy-“ he starts and you sigh

“Yeah- you wanna get down too huh?” You grin and place him down as well as you did with Archie.

The boys walk together and they get distracted very easily but stay close to you and Lando.

That was until you got to the garage.

You were holding Alfie’s hand and swore to yourself when you saw Alfie toddling off towards the garage.

“Lan-“ you start but Lando cuts you off “on it.” He says as he jogs behind Alfie and swiftly lifts him up from under his arms.

“Where do you think you’rere going mh?” Lando grins when Alfie squeals a cheeky laugh. Lando can’t help his light laugh “you’re a little road runner.” Lando chuckles as he brings him back to where you and Archie were.

As we headed towards the garage I could hear the loud noises of the tools etc. “lan? Can you get the boys a pair of those noose cancelling headphones please?” I ask and he nods, grabbing two pairs.

I smile as I watch Lando put them on the boys.

Archie knots his brows confused when he can’t hear anything because of the headphones. I smile and gently ruffle his hair.

Lando chuckles “they look so confused” I giggle and nod as we see their confused faces.

Just then, Oscar and Lily walk over, Lily happily squeals when she sees the boys “ah! They’re so cuteeee!”

I smile and watch the boys toddle off with Lando to the garage. “I got em matching outfits again”

Lily nods with a smile “how do you tell them apart?” She asks as she sees them both toddle off, they look the exact same.

“Well- it’s easy for me and lan to tell. But at the begin when they wet born, we had to keep their hospital tags on” I giggle and Lily chuckles lightly “I can’t tell them apart”

I smile as I watch Lando with the boys “I can tell because Alfie has a slimmer face..and Archie has a mole on his neck”

-

Lando smiles and lifts Alfie and Archie up in his arms. He looks over to you “babe?” He calls over for you ur attention, you look over “yeah?”

Lando grins “can I put the boys in the car?” He asks with a cheeky grin. You sigh and nod “watch them.”

Lando nods and happily puts the boys in his f1 car. The boys squeal happily and sit in it.

Archie goes to press some buttons but thankfully Lando stops him. “Ah- no..we don’t press those buddy.”

Oscar chuckles as he watches “I still need to see them in the race suits you bought.”

Lando grins “they look adorable.” He says excitedly at the thought.

Oscar shakes his head amused “you’re wrapped around their fingers.”

Lando nods and sighs “the worst thing is, is that I don’t care.” He smiles as he watches the boys in his car.

*omg it’s been ages and this has been in my drafts for SO LONGGGG - I still need to write so many others but this is what y’all get for now 🤭😭*

[sightseertrespasser]

Sunny Side Screw-Up part 2

Me: Hey, what if Bluestreak was a great sniper because Tacnet enabled him to view the world in slow motion, kinda like bullet time?

Later me: Wait, what if he experienced Bullet Time All the Time and THAT’s why he’s like that?

The mecha AU was spawned by @keferon, go check ‘em out!

———————————————————————

For hours, Prowls processor continued to spiral well after Jazz disconnected the drift bond. The steady crackle from Bluestreaks currently inactive comm lines did little to settle him.

Individually, Prowl curled each of his digits, then released. The fingers Ratchet replaced were still numb. But the phantom pains stayed sharp.

“Hey.” A hoarse whisper at his hip got Prowl to online his optic.

“You should be resting, Jazz.” The Praxian whispered back. If Ratchet saw them both up the doctor would likely make good on some of his threats. Or Deadlock would.

“I’m gonna.” The human leaned against his side, shoulders wrapped in a spare blanket.

“You’re lying.” Prowl stated as flatly as if he’d pointed out Jazz was bipedal.

“Hmm, just getting it out of my system so you know I’m gonna be serious next.” When the pilot moved to climb up Prowl’s thigh, he gave him a slight boost with one servo. Weak as Prowl was, Jazz still weighed basically nothing.

“Ratchet said you already pushed past your limits for the day. I do not think it’d be wise to reconnect right now.” Prowl watched Jazz for every minute tremble, delicately adjusting the plane of his servo to support him as evenly as possible.

“We pushed it today. And s’alright. Wasn’t going for that.” Jazz laid back in Prowls palm, getting comfortable.

Given the pattern of their past interactions, Prowl preemptively readjusted to lay down on as well, before Jazz could begin guilting/bargaining/tricking him into resting properly.

Jazz, knowingly, smiled.

“I know you’re scared for him. But Bluestreak is gonna be fine Prowler. He’s got you, and you’ve got us.”

“I had myself and you and I still got vivisected.” It was a low blow and still a raw wound for the both of them. His missing platting stung.

Jazz closed his eyes. Prowl could still hear the echos of what thoughts that would be racing through his head.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. This is a nightmare scenario and I can’t believe you aren’t completely loosing your shit right now.” A sour note came through his field. “I just don’t want you to fry yourself with worrying.”

Prowl sighed, “I have come to terms with our current limitations. The plan currently underway is definitely the best chance we can possibly give him.”

“I do not have enough information to predict how the Twins will conduct themselves..” Prowl briefly paused to send a scheduled Check In ping to Bluestreak. Continuing once he received the Return ping.

“But I know my brother, and that’s what has me worried.” Despite himself, Prowl felt his face almost twitch a smile when Jazz’s EM field chimed against his palm. He could feel the human silently laugh.

“Little brothers are something else, but have a little faith in him okay? Bluestreak just needs to play it cool until we can debrief the Twins. He doesn’t even have to actually lie. All he needs to do is walk and shoot, and I’ve seen him shoot.”

Jazz rolled onto his side to face Prowl, who still frowned but was coming around.

“Look, it took me nearly two days to figure out I was literally surrounded by aliens who weren’t even trying to hide it.”

“You had a concussion.” Prowl grumbled.

“And I’m a very clever fucker.” Jazz raised a pointed finger.

The human snuggled back into his blanket, “Never in a million years is anyone just gonna guess he’s an alien shaped like a mecha.”

Prowl hummed in assent, choosing to let his systems wind down, save for his Comms.

Yawning, Jazz finished his thought, “The only way they’d find out he’s from space is if Bluestreak straight up told them.”

———————

“And that star cluster is about where Cybertron is!”

The fading red-gold of the sunset had given way to dusty dark blue twilight. This far from any civilization, the stars did not shy from taking the stage early, casting the desert in a cool toned glow.

Sideswipe looked where he was pointing and nodded along. Sunstreaker likewise examined the sky for a moment before continuing their trek.

“You guys are good listeners.” The Praxian smiled.

Bluestreak shifted how he was holding his rifle for the nth time that afternoon. “I wish I could just subspace this but Jazz said that would be too openly weird and you guys might try tearing my hip apart.”

Unsurprisingly, Sunstreaker showed no sudden comprehension of Bluestreak’s native language. The yellow mecha was too preoccupied with digging out a quint fang from his plating. Similarly unaware, Sideswipe had found a small boulder and played an improvised game of how long he could kick it along their path.

Bluestreak checked his Tacnet Dilation: 25%.

“Did you know I taught Prowl and Smokescreen how to use Tacnet to shoot better? Cause I did. They taught me pretty much everything else though about how to function. They’re my brothers by the way, which is kinda funny to think about since you guys are brothers too but ‘organic brothers’ are kinda different from ‘Cybertronian brothers’. We’re all Cold Constructs designed by the same people but that doesn’t actually have anything to do with being brothers.” With family on his processor, the Praxian flicked a ‘Hey guys!’ out of habit without thinking. He didn’t notice the twins simultaneously pause for a second beside him.

“The word translates directly into English but I think the origins are totally different. A literal translation of “Brothers” in Cybertronian would be something like “Those who are most familiar to me.”

He counted the decimal points of each passing click to pace himself. Making sure he was talking at a socially acceptable level. After 4 clicks, his will broke down and the gap of silence was filled.

“Hey want to hear how we met?” Bluestreak looked up at the hulking mechas with wide optics, questioning tone riding through the air.

The twins looked at each other briefly before shrugging.

Aside from his brothers, mechs that knew his particular reputation would take that pause in his chatting as an escape route from the conversation.

Bluestreak understood. It’s why he tried to leave gaps in. He scuffed his peds in the dirt while waiting for a response.

A curled servo came into his peripheral vision. With a little difficulty, Sunstreaker gave him a crude thumbs up, his mecha not really built for fine motor controls.

“Really?” Bluestreak beamed, checking in with Sideswipe as well who was also nodding in the positive.

The Praxian began his tale, “So it happened a little under two million years ago.”

——————

The crowd around the train station moved in a tightly packed slow motion torrent.

“-taken at specified slots-“

“-one hundred and fifty shanix is-“

“-consult the map if she really-“

Words, sentences, broken paragraphs and contradictory orders buzzed across his processor. His internal dictionary pulling up definitions and explanations almost too fast to keep up with.

Tacnet Dilation: Increase to 75%?

Huh?

[Yes]?

Oh!

That’s so much better.

If he picked out one voice at a time, he could decipher each glyph as they came and string it together. Mildly entranced by how they interlocked and changed the information they carried as it dripped into his echoing memory banks.

For example:

“Get out of the way you useless cop!”

An upward swing from behind struck him, jamming his doorwings at the apex of their mobility.

The mech would have fallen forward if the density of the crowd allowed it. They stumbled, struggling to stay upright as the mass of mechs around him pushed inexorably toward the trains.

New information came through. Bright boxes burst across his vision and new words wrote themselves on his processor. This new sensory input was competing with every other piece of stimulus for his immediate attention.

He didn’t like it.

What is it?

[Pain]

Oh, is this a setting that can be changed?

[Pain - Repair - Reset- Doorwing (1)]

[Pain - Repair - Reset - Doorwing (2)]

How? How do I fix them?

[Pain - Repair - Reset]

I don’t understand?

[Pain - Repair - Reset]

The logic branch repeated incessantly, almost as bad as the distraction of the pain itself.

The praxian began asking every mech who passed nearby how to reset his doorwings. Sometimes, they’d kindly tell him they couldn’t help. Other times they’d push him off harshly, fields flashing with hostility. One even told him to go jump on the tracks. Before he could actually consider how that’d help, an orange mech scolded the harsh one and pulled the praxian to where they could speak into his audial.

They told him they couldn’t fix his problem, but if he found other mechs with doorwings like his, they would help him.

“How do I find them?”

The orange mech adjusted a pair of spectacles, smiling, “Just listen to your wings young one, you’ll get there.”

It was then he realized something else was coming through the sensor net of his doorwings. A muffled, irregular pulsing, coming from one of the train cars.

He forgot to thank the skinny mech and pushed through the crowd, past the overwhelmed conductor.

Reduced Sensory Input, Tacnet Dilation: Decrease to 25%?

[Yes]

The inside of the train car was packed, no one would be leaving without numerous scraps and dents by the end of their journey. He tried not to flinch every time a passenger bumped into his back with very little success. Spurred on by pain and desperation, the Praxian pushed rudely past the other passengers who each added new and exciting expletives to his steadily growing lexicon.

He followed the signals like a lifeline to the back of the train.

Two Praxian enforcers sat side by side, doorwings flicking intermittently. Both of them leaned forward with their elbows on their knees, either from the exhaustion clearly written across their faces or simply because the bench they sat on wasn’t made to accommodate the extra limbs on their backs.

One was blue with a yellow chevron, lazily leaking smoke to pool against the ceiling. Seemingly absorbed in people watching.

{ ···· · -·--     ·--· --··--     ··· · ·     - ···· ·     --- -· ·     ·-- ·· - ····     - ···· ·     ···- ·· ··· --- ·-· ··--·· }

The other was monochrome save for a bright red chevron, scanning the crowd with a critical optic, locking onto his approach.

{ ··     ·-· · --· ·-· · -     - · ·-·· ·-·· ·· -· --·     -·-- --- ··-     ·- -· -·-- - ···· ·· -· --· }

{ ·· ’ --     ···· · ·-·· ·--· ·· -· --· }

{ ··- -· -·- -· --- ·-- -·     · -· ··-· --- ·-· -·-· · ·-·     ·- ·--· ·--· ·-· --- ·- ---- ·· -· --· }

The praxians straightened, the blue one offering a casual smile and a welcoming field.

“Hey there! Can we help you?”

He almost crashed to the floor, stumbling to stand before them.

“Yes! Yes! Hello! I need help! I’ve been trying to find someone to help with my doorwings for what feels like forever but everyone I’ve talked to has told me to go away or go frag myself or go ask someone else and then somebody told me to come in here or really they actually told me to follow my doorwings which was actually kinda hard because they hurt a lot and all the warnings I’m getting are making it kinda hard to focus on anything and nobody has let me finish talking the entire time!”

The optics of the black and white praxian got steadily wider as he spoke, taking in the information with an otherwise motionless posture.

The blue one took it in stride, waving him to get closer, “Alright, c’mere and turn around real quick.”

Gratefully, he followed the clear instructions and did just that.

The blue one hummed, “Oh that’s an easy fix.”

His doorwings twinged in their slots at the feeling of the mechs servos on his back. “Sorry, this’ll pinch a little.” And with two practiced twists, the mech braced one servo against his back and popped the hinges back in place.

He hissed at the initial sting but relief immediately flooded his sensor net.

“Is the Doorwing injury related to why you are covered in ash?” The monochrome mech spoke for the first time.

“Hmm? Oh no, someone just ran into me from behind. He was yelling something about useless cops?” He could see the irises of the praxians optics cycling as he spoke. The mechs mouth thinned to a line as his brow furrowed.

The other didn’t seem to notice, laughing heartily, “Oh trust me that’s not the last time you’ll hear that. Next time call your squad in to book the guy for assault on an officer. You new here?”

He smiled, doorwings fluttering involuntarily at being asked a non clinical question for the first time ever. “Yes! I’m very new! Everything is so new! Who are you two?”

Something clicked for the other mech. Doorwings drooping, “Um, Smokescreen?”

The blue mech, Smokescreen, ignored him. Instead, he wrapped an arm around the mechs shoulders and pulled him in, “Well this here is my little brother Prowl, I promise he’s slightly less of a stick in the gears than he first appears. We’d show you around our precinct, but it kinda burnt down this morning.”

“Smokescreen.” Prowl hissed.

“So what’s your designation and your placement new guy?” Smokescreen beamed at him with a sooty grin.

“My designation is P-E 2102. Aaaand the building I was being tested in caught fire, so I have no idea!” He rocked on his peds.

Smokescreen gave him a slightly curious once over.

Meanwhile, Prowl crossed his arms and looked unimpressed with his older brother.

Prowl turned back to him, “A follow up question, if you are able to answer, P-E 2102. When were you constructed?”

He checked his memory banks, “Two cycles ago!”

Smokescreen choked, coughing up a small cloud of exhaust. Prowl automatically thumped a servo against his back to help.

“Right.” The elder Praxian recovered, coughing into his fist and straightening up again. “So you’re two cycles old huh? That explains.. some things.”

Unconsciously, P-E 2102 pulled his doorwings in, not yet knowing what to call the awkward energy that spilled into the train car. The only mech seemingly unaffected was Prowl.

“Typically, once you make it through Quality Control a mech is assigned to act as your mentor to answer questions and bring you up to speed on how to function in society.” Prowl glanced at his brother. “Their designation should be tagged with your factory designation. We’ll assist in contacting them for your retrieval.”

Internally, P-E 2102 pulled his factory designation back up, and did indeed find what Prowl was talking about.

“Oh okay, it looks like I’m assigned to someone named Barricade?” He smiled again, happy to have a clear path forward after so much uncertainty. The two older Praxians immediately, silently looked at each other.

Optics wide, Smokescreen gave him a massive showman style grin, announcing loud enough for the whole train to hear, “Nooope!”

“Um, what?” He new forge looked confused, optics flitting between the two of them.

The eldest praxian nudged Prowl to scoot over. “Nope!” He clapped his servos on his knees for emphasis. “That is not happening. You’re actually going to be my ward now. Last minute update. You know how office work gets.”

“This is a terrible idea.” Prowl grumbled but still moved to make room. “You aren’t qualified to mentor more than one ward. You wouldn’t even be my mentor if the Council hadn’t lowered the age requirement.”

Smokescreen patted the new space between them, “Go ahead and take a seat newbie. And Prowl? C’mon. You haven’t needed me for literal vorns.”

He squeezed into the space between them. It took a bit to figure out how to overlap their doorwings, but once they folded together, the new forge felt more secure than he’d ever been in his life.

Which wasn’t very long but still.

“First things first, you need a proper des.” Smokescreen poked him in the chassis. Briefly frowning at the grime left on his digit. “And a proper paint job.”

“Oh can I be red? I think I like red. And orange. And yellow. I like warm tones in general really. But I think just red for now.” He pointed up at Prowls chevron for reference.

“It is a striking color.” Prowl nodded sagely. “It will suit you fine, though I request you do not completely copy my appearance to avoid future confusion.”

He hummed, already considering the ash grey covering his plating. He didn’t think it looked too bad actually.

“We’ll get the paint sorted later, now how about a proper name? I don’t believe in assigning one over your own choice, so you gotta pick.”Smokescreen leaned back, not giving away any clues of what options laid before him.

“Hmm.” He studied the signage outside the train. “Something with blue in it?”

“Blue?” Prowl raised an eye ridge. “Didn’t you just say you wanted to be painted red?”

“Well yeah. I like the color red but I like the word blue.” He said rationally and sensibly.

Prowl could find no argument and accepted the information for what it was.

Smokescreen tapped his shoulder. “Gonna need something a little more complex than just Blue, buddy. It’s a pretty popular des.”

“Oh how about Blueline!”

A few eavesdroppers snorted at the announcement, a small wave of mirth echoing around the mostly reserved fields of the crowd.

There was a long pause.

“That.. is the name of the train we are currently riding.” Prowl slowly pointed out.

“Ah.”

Voice an octave higher, Smokescreen gave a slightly pained albeit encouraging grin. “Yeeeah. Maybe try one more time?”

The young mech rested his chin on his servos, rapidly tapping his digits. “Is Blue streak taken?”

Prowl and Smokescreen considered the name. Internally, Prowl scanned over something for a moment. “I do not see any other registrations for that designation. It is indeed available.”

“Then Bluestreak it is!” Proclaimed Smokescreen, who clapped a servo around Prowls far shoulder, squishing Bluestreak between them.

Bluestreak whooped, sirens he didn’t know he had briefly going off before Prowl rushed to teach him how to turn them back down.

With a sense of finality, the train at last closed its doors and pulled out of Praxus. Bluestreak watched the skyscrapers dance in streams of gold and red.

Tacnet Dilation: 125%

The sounds of the train car moved treacle slow. Bluestreak turned to his new brothers and in a voice that sounded strangely deep to his own audials, asked them “Why is Praxus burning?”

They glanced at each other again, passing silent communication born of familiarity. When he eventually spoke, Bluestreak could hear the buzz of Smokescreens vocalizer activating the click before the consonants of his words rumbled forward like distant thunder, “There’s a war, a civil war. We’re still deciding where to go.”

“Can I come?” The question came so easily.

A pause that lasted a thousand years crawled by, as the train swept into a long dark tunnel with no clear end.

“Yeah.” Smokescreen said, “You can come.”

——————

“And to make a long story short, we ended up joining the Decepticons because well, the Functionalist Council kinda claimed all surviving CC Praxian Enforcers as ‘Government Property’.” Bluestreak made quotations with his digits.

Not for the first time, Bluestreak glanced at his audience. It was difficult to read the twins, Sunstreaker especially, but Bluestreak thought he was starting to get a hold of their personalities.

He vaguely remembered Jazz saying he had an unusually high affinity for piloting mecha, and hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Now that he was spending time with “regular” pilots, Bluestreak couldn’t help but stare at the stark difference.

Jazz made it work, easily translating laid back body language and a friendly demeanor through several tons of non living machinery.

But the twins? There were times when the Twins reminded him of Empurata victims, their fine movements unnaturally stunted and their incredibly restricted means of self expression coming off as awkward at best. Drone like at worst.

And yet, like clouds passing through an Uncanny Valley, Bluestreak would see bits of their true selves slip out.

For example, the three of them had just come up to a broad shallow stream running across the sandy earth. Sunstreaker stalked right up to the shore, knelt down to dip a cupped hand into water and wasted no time in splashing it across his plating. While his brother attempted to clean himself of the filth they’d accumulated from the day, Sideswipe pointedly looked Bluestreak in the optics and raised a single finger to his visor.

Bluestreak tilted his helm, understanding the meaning of gesture but not the why.

Casually admiring the scenery, Sideswipe tiptoed behind his brothers back, hands clasped in the picture of nonchalant innocence.

And then kicked him square in the back.

Tacnet Dilation: 50%

BLUESTREAK: [Uh Prowl?]

Abruptly flattened face first into the sand, Sunstreaker raised one arm and punched into the earth beneath the stream. He rose with a measured, predatory speed.

BLUESTREAK: [Not an emergency. I think.]

Regardless, the Praxian still backed away from the beach. Tacnet stretching out the clicks for Prowl to answer into wisp thin strands of time.

BLUESTREAK: [But please still respond.]

Sideswipe made a show of pointing a finger at his brother while almost doubled over. Frame absolutely shaking with silent laughter.

PROWL: [I’m here. What is it?]

Whip fast, a clawed hand fisted itself around Sideswipes collar, yanking him off his feet. The red mecha vanished, reappearing on the opposite bank, laying prone in a brand new crater.

BLUESTREAK: [So the twins are fighting.]

Tacnet Dilation: 100%

Bluestreak watched as Sideswipes arms rotated backwards, punching off the earth with explosive momentum and launching himself towards the yellow mecha.

In a clear display of practice, Sunstreaker caught him with a shoulder to the chest, slamming his brother back first into the water with enough force to make it rain.

PROWL: [Each other?]

BLUESTREAK: [Yep.]

Sideswipe twisted his waist around almost 90 degrees and suddenly had the leverage to dig his clawed feet into the ground, flipping Sunstreaker back into the water.

Tacnet held steady at 100% dilation, slowing the fight to a pace that Bluestreak could actually follow. To anyone else, it’d be a blur of red and yellow plating churning through indecipherably dense sprays of water droplets.

Once, back on the Lost Light, Bluestreak had asked Prowl what was it that drew him to Jazz. Prowl, naturally, gave a highly clinical answer, “Jazz is highly competent. Tacnet likes competence.”

Of course, Bluestreak made fun of him at the time for hiding his feelings behind his battle computer.

But uh.

He was kinda getting it now.

Every awkward gesture, every stilted performance at normal body language from before evaporated instantaneously. There wasn’t a hundred feet of separation between their hands and their brains anymore, the pilots filled their mecha out to the very finger tips. Swift and precise and alive.

To Tacnet, these weren’t machines anymore, but men.

Very competent men.

PROWL: [This is apparently normal behavior for them. Keep your distance and wait it out.]

Bluestreak nearly dropped his rifle, juggling it in slow motion as his frame struggled to move as fast as his processor.

BLUESTREAK: [Yep got it.]

BLUESTREAK: [Will be observing closely.]

BLUESTREAK: [From a distance.]

BLUESTREAK: [I’ll be observing closely from a distance I mean.]

BLUESTREAK: [I am completely fine.]

By the time he’d pinned the stock against his chassis, he’d sent Prowl about half a dozen more messages, all following in a continuously self correcting pattern.

PROWL: [Bluestreak. Paragraphs please.]

He reeled Tacnet back to the standard 25% dilation and watched the fight continue at normal speed. Occasionally, Bluestreak noticed one of their visors would turn his way before snapping back to focus on pummeling each other into the ground

Are they watching to make sure I didn’t leave? Or… are they watching to make sure I’m watching?

When they were younger, Smokescreen would sometimes get a hold of fuzzy holovids of old gladiator fights, (or questionably sourced security footage) and drag Prowl and him to his hab suite to watch. On a purely superficial level, he claimed it was for “Tacnet training” and taught them both how to zero in on hundreds of little tells that’d determine who’d the winner of the match would be right from the opening move.

They played a game where whoever correctly guessed the outcome of the match first would be the winner. Bonus points for predicting the correct finishing move. Prowl and Smokescreen would get ridiculously competitive. Or rather, Smokescreen always won and it drove Prowl up the wall. Years later, Smokescreen would whisper what the secret was to him over a bottle of high grade: Prowl never considered not all mechs fight to win.

This was a performance.

Every blow the twins traded landed on the thickest parts of their armor. The flashing exposures of their most delicate components were brief but frequent, always left untouched.

His digits twitched where he held the rifle.

Two targets (moving, distracted) within close firing range. Estimated reaction time: 2.2 clicks. Estimated time between shots: 1.4 clicks.

Tacnet Dilation: 100%

Manual Override, Tacnet Dilation: 25%

Bluestreak turned up his ventilations and stamped down on Tacnet, blocking out anymore suggestions by tunelessly humming some random jingle he’d heard about a million years ago.

Eventually, the fight wound down on its own without a winner. Sunstreaker helped Sideswipe up, and that was that.

Watching the two stomp out of the water, Bluestreak raised a thumbs up, “You guys good?”

The twins responded in the affirmative, each giving the other one last shove before resuming their flanking positions beside the sniper. Setting out once more.

Several hours later, the stars had dimmed as the sky turned powder blue.

The broad flat expanse of the rocky desert begged to be raced across. The variation in the terrain with its short stoney shelves and dried river bed roads would have been fantastic tracks for a spur of the moment race.

If I was allowed to that is.

The sand and grit from the environment was starting to grind uncomfortably in his joints. His peds ached more from the knowledge that he didn’t need to walk than from the physical exertion of the hike itself.

“On a scale of one to ten, how badly would you guys react if I turned into a car right now?” He panted, keeping careful watch of his coolant levels as the sun rose over the horizon. “Like a five maybe? A five seems about right for the situation.”

The twins simultaneously stopped.

Bluestreaks doorwings flicked nervously, “Is this your way of saying it’s a three?”

Steadily, Sideswipe lowered into a low crouch, vents hissing steam and visor going dark. There was a subtle click of joints locking into place.

Sunstreaker picked a rocky shelf and sat, keeping both of them in his line of sight

BLUESTREAK: [The twins are doing something weird and new. Sunstreaker is just watching but Sideswipe is squatting for some reason and it looks like he just went into recharge?]

While Bluestreak worried the inside of his cheek, Sunstreaker waved at him and patted the stone by his side.

Hesitantly and not wanting to potentially offend the alien hunter, Bluestreak took the offered seat. Thankfully, Sunstreaker seemed mollified by this and went back to staring at the horizon.

PROWL: [Ratchet says it sounds like they’re taking shifts resting. Given the length of time you’ve been traveling together, they may expect you to “power down” for a while as well.]

BLUESTREAK: [So what you’re saying is I have to fake being in recharge while sitting upright, outdoors in the sun and in heavily implied to be quint infested territory?]

PROWL: [Yes.]

BLUESTREAK: [Great. Awesome. Thank you. This is totally fine.]

PROWL: [I’m sorry.]

Okay now that was a red flag.

Angry Prowl meant “There is a problem and I will not physically stop until it is obliterated.”

Apologetic Prowl meant even he couldn’t deal with the problem.

The sheer scale of how fucked he was finally set in.

Tacnet Dilation: 125%

Tacnet Dilation: 150%

Tacnet Dilation: 225%

Time curled up into a little ball on the floor.

The only thing that stopped Tacnet from going past 300% was a wedged in bit of coding Bluestreak had forcibly added after a truly nightmarish near death experience at 500% dilation.

Logically, he knew he still had control over his frame, but the sheer delay in response felt like he was paralyzed.

Don’t force it. Don’t force it. Don’t force yourself to move, everything you try to do will add to the queue and it’ll hit all at once.

He wished Sunstreaker could talk, Bluestreak couldn’t deal with silence. Silence was like trying to keep track of passing time by staring at a blank wall. At least when there was noise, the pitch could clue him in and keep his mind semi tethered to the actual rate of things happening around him.

The dinks of his digits curling against his servos finally registered from when he started the motion all the way back when Prowl said he was sorry.

The faint pressure just was enough to start his thought process again.

Manual Override, Tacnet Dilation: 200%

Manual Override, Tacnet Dilation: 150%

Manual Override, Tacnet Dilation: 100%

Feeling spread back into his frame as sensory input raced back to his processor. From Bluestreaks perspective, it felt like he’d just lunched forward, helm between his knees. From the outside it probably just looked like a slow miserable curl.

He tried not to purge.

When his doorwings picked up on movement from Sunstreaker, he froze. Hyperaware of how bizarre his behavior must look.

A heavy hand not designed for anything other than ripping and tearing settled between his doorwings, lightly patting.

Bluestreak chanced a glance at the yellow mecha. Sunstreakers visor was as impassive as ever but with his unoccupied hand he raised an “OK” symbol, tilting his head inquisitively.

Letting his vents run at max, Bluestreak swallowed, raising an “OK” back.

“I’m gonna go ahead and pretend to be unconscious now. Thanks for not killing me so far.”

Bluestreak crossed his arms and dimmed his optics, flaring out his doorwings to compensate for the drop in input.

To execute his performance as an unfeeling empty husk of machinery, Bluestreak clenched his jaw and vowed not to speak or move for the next several hours.

Tacnet Dilation: 50%

Or however long it felt like.

———————————————————————

Jazz: “So if you use Tacnet to crunch the numbers on crazy complicated battle simulations, and Bluestreak uses his Tacnet to pull off insane sniper moves, what does Smokescreen use his for?”

Prowl: “Gambling.”

——————

Cybertronian ages are weird and don’t really align to human developmental rates but I do roughly equate 1 millennia to about a decade in human years.

So Prowl is in his late twenties, Smokescreen is in his thirties and Bluestreak can legally buy alcohol, depending on the country.

Also, Prowl and Smokescreen don’t know about the constant time dilation Bluestreak lives with. It was an experimental feature that got turned on for testing and when Bluestreaks factory got blown up there was nobody around to disable it.

Sometime after they started living together, he asked Smokescreen what Tacnet Dilation actually was, and Smokescreen basically just went “Oh yeah that thing. Yeah just don’t touch it and you’ll be fine.” Not knowing it was already on.

As far as Bluestreak is aware, 25% is “normal speed” because that’s the lowest setting.

-SSTP

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

Imagine WB!Reader just screams. Like it’s a calm day then BOOM! A shrill scream rips through the manor. Everyone runs up to their room and once they bust open the door readers like:

“Cory posted!”

They’d be so confused and only Duke knows who Cory is bc he’s so educated!!

(Btw are we getting the Adrien x Reader😢😢???)

"SHE SO MEAN BUT SO PRETTY!!!"

(I had a dream about Adrien and Deathstroke!reader, and I was like, "Damn, now I gotta write about them lol.")

It's weird; Adrien had never felt like this before in his life. He was scared and excited, but mostly scared—like really scared—but excited. Nothing interesting happened in his life; it had always been routine: go to school, do some modeling, advertise a cologne that doesn't smell too good, then do fencing, then learn multiple languages, maybe go around the world for more modeling. Seriously, it's a lot of modeling. But his life was routine no matter what, until you came around. You were scary and exciting; it made his heart race, which is pretty dangerous—he could get a heart attack—but it was worth it for you. It's all worth it for you, a girl he doesn't even know, but to him, you're that angel that flew through his window from his million-dollar hotel in Gotham. But it wasn't really how that happened. Our boy is a little bit delusional.

"Do we really have to go to Gotham for this, Father? I mean, I could've modeled in Paris!" Gabriel fixed his glasses and stared down at his son with a scowl. He raised an eyebrow at his comment. "Adrien, we live in Paris." The young boy blushed, looking away. "Oh right... but that doesn't mean we have to," he mumbled, staring through the plane window and letting out a soft sigh. Gotham is icky and it's always raining; just the thought was making him gloomy, and so much crime happens there. It was as if Gabriel was planning on his downfall, but maybe he'll be able to crack some evil heads in Gotham. The modeling was alright; working with Bruce Wayne's sons was pretty fun, except the little one kept staring at him.

"Is he always like that?" Adrien whispered to Tim, who just laughed. "Who knows? He could be plotting your downfall," he joked, patting Adrien on the back, which didn't reassure him at all. It was a long day; he was practically a corpse on his way to the hotel. The Waynes offered for him to stay at the manor, but the glare the small one was giving him was enough for Adrien to decline. Taking a shower was a struggle; he didn't know how to work the faucet, and still, an employee opened it like it was the easiest thing in the world. Not beating those dumb blonde allegations, he stepped out of the shower looking like a wet cat. Plagg was enjoying the fanciest of cheeses, making him smile just a little.

Adrien looked out the window. Gotham was so pretty at night when you're this high up; the people down below looked like ants, and the streetlights looked like stars if he squinted hard enough. But there was something in the distance—a small black dot, and that dot got bigger the closer it got. Purple eyes shimmered, leaving him in a trance. Then "CRASH!" He fell back, hitting the wall of the hotel; glass was scattered on the floor, and wind blew through the big, human-sized crack in the window. As he looked around, he saw you getting up off the floor, a bit of your mask ripped, dark black curls sticking out of the rip. You looked down at Adrien.

"Oh, sorry, totes wrong floor." You winked and jumped right through the broken window. Adrien tried to see where you'd gone, but you disappeared into the dead of night. The only thing he could hear was the Gotham street sounds of this mad city, but God, that was exciting—and dangerous—but exciting.

"Plagg..." he said softly, looking at the empty streets below. "Do you wanna go sightseeing?"

[elysianightsss]

RUN FROM ME DARLIN, YOU BETTER RUN FOR YOUR LIFE | PART TWO

You grab your duffle bag, with one last glance at Kate and the red vials still on the table, you left.

Part of you knew that Kate didn’t know what had happened to you, only that you had been sent away but back then you didn’t care. You hated her and you sure as shit made sure she knew it.

At first you thought it was a good thing, that you missed the helicopter ride out of there, you started to make up with Kate. Bond. But then there wasn’t another helicopter out of there for four months straight. Soon enough you became suspicious and found out why.

The team, excluding Kate, had been ordering whoever was flying that week not to land at the base. You were stuck there and after being there for so long you eventually began to pick up on their obsession with you. At least one of them had to be with you at all times.

Once you got semi comfortable with them they became way too touchy. The one time you managed to get away from them you searched Johnny’s room only to find sketches of you in inappropriate positions and pictures of you sleeping.

You managed to get ahold of Kyle’s phone to find a group chat with the four of them in talking about you. What you smelt like, looked like, your likes and dislikes. All the things they’d love to do to you. They were insane. You knew a crazy person when you saw one and there were four of them on base with you and your sister.

Your sister. The little trust you had built up shattered when you told her what was going on. The guys had been finally called away on a mission, one they couldn’t reject. You were so happy to get rid of them, to have you freedom back, even if a small part of yourself missed their presence. Not that you’d even admit that even to yourself.

You had told Kate all about what you’d found but she didn’t believe you and even scolded you like a child for making up such accusations. That was it, you’d had it. With the four of them following your every move and Kate giving you the silent treatment, you were starting to feel as though you were back in the red room.

You packed your bag in the middle of the night and hot wired a car before driving far far away. You made it to the mainland where you were able to go to the nearest hotel. You waited patiently before watching this older lady leave her laptop open to go get another drink. You swiftly grabbed it and ran into the nearest bathroom.

You booked the quickest plane ticket you could find, it didn’t matter where it was for. Thankfully for you it wasn’t too bad. You would be flying to Italy in an hour, plenty of time for you to get to the airport. Slipping the laptop back when no one was looking, you made your way out of the hotel lobby and out the front.

Now, when you thought that Kate’s team was obsessed with you, you were actually nieave enough to believe it began and ended with you being on base with them. You never even imagined in even your wildest dreams or nightmares that these men would follow you.

Not until you were about to turn a dark corner and you heard the familiar thick Scottish accent, “She’s ain’t just a regular civilian Cap, she’s trained for this type a shit. We can’t underestimate her.” Your hand covered your mouth as you fell into the dark crack in the wall.

Holding your breath as he went past, you watched Johnny with curious eyes before they darted around you. He was there but where were the others? Even bigger question was, did it matter?

At this moment in time, Johnny was the one standing between and the stolen car. Thing probably had a tracker on it, you needed to find a new vehicle but with him right there you wouldn’t get far and it didn’t look like he was moving any time soon.

Your hand moved down to your gun, flicking the safety off it while it still sat in your thigh holster. Just as you pressed the strap away you heard him speak again, something about Kyle coming to his location. It suddenly dawned on you that you didn’t have a silencer on the gun, if you shot him the rest of the team would come running and you’d be in an even worst situation.

Flicking the safety back on and the strap that held it in place you made your decision, you’d have to fight him. Hand to hand combat. Clicking your neck you rushed forward running at a ridiculous speed, he turned just as he heard your footsteps only for you to slam into him.

Both of you bursted through old metal doors, as you stood you took in the dusty, empty warehouse. Rusted railings and stairs, a filthy floor where Johnny was standing from with a cough. Your eyes were back on your target as you pulled out a knife and dropped your duffle bag kicking it to the side.

“Easy princess, just wanna talk.” He holds up his hands in defence while eyeing the knife in your hand cautiously. You ignore the throb between your legs at the nickname rolling off his Scottish tongue. No, you couldn’t be distracted right now. Not when you had a fight to win.

Your pupils widened, eyes darkening as they blackened. A sight Johnny had to admit made him nervous. You were a trained killer after all, but then again wasn’t he?

“No talking.” You clicked your neck to the side, before descending on him. You moved quick he noted, using all his strength and tricks against him. You were right about the girls, you were matching every move he made, countering them with such efficiency and a ruthlessness even Simon couldn’t match.

He’d never seen or felt anything like it.

You were coming at him once again, after getting up like his punch meant nothing. Not even a flinch. Johnny started to panic. Panic that he’d loose this fight and in turn loose you for himself and the team.

He kicked the knife from your hand and managed to be swift enough to kick the back of your legs as well, taking you down to the floor.

“Did you just- kick the back of my knee? Are you fucking serious? Childish little-“ you growl taking another swing which he doges but it gives you plenty of time to grab your hidden two inch knife and stab him in the side just below the ribs. He groans loudly stumbling back away from you.

“Did you think I’d be easy? I warned you didn’t I?” You scoffed, jolting forward sticking your leg out and swiftly taking out Johnny’s legs, he dropped to the floor, using your foot you kicked him in the shoulder sending him across the room, just as you had done to your bag earlier.

“You messed with the wrong cyka.” You growled as he got up, you stalking towards him fury blazing in your eyes.

Johnny grinned like he was enjoying this fight, maybe you were too. His big hand gripping itself on your neck, you grabbed his wrist pushing yourself off the ground swinging around his body and using his weight against himself slamming him down on the ground. He blinked up at you in complete shock, allowing you to grab the knife he’d kicked out of your hand.

He was down and you were ready and rearing for another round, he couldn’t believe it. A little thing like you, “Y’know people only have a certain amount of moves.” You smirked, Johnny raised an eyebrow groaning as he stood up. You didn’t even give him a second, rushing yourself forward jumping on him.

“You have five!” You yelled squeezing his head between your legs, his big hands coming up to grip the fat of your ass. You created a first, the handle of the blade sticking out of it, and hit his head right on the nerve you had studied to make someone pass out. Johnny yelled in pain, his eyes slipping close as he fell unconscious. His grip on you loosened to nothing as he fell backwards onto the floor. You simply landed on your feet looking down at him, your chest heaving.

You ran to your bag, grabbing it and running from the scene. Looking for a car, eyes spotting a brown jeep. Perfect. Hot wiring the car wasn’t even necessary, whoever owned the car had left the keys in the ignition. You pressed the gas and sped off as fast as you could not even looking back, though you did catch a glimpse of a ghost in your rear view mirror.

Shifting gear to four, you kept going. There was no way you were stopping now, you just needed to find a place to go. You weren’t going to make it to the airport on time for your flight. Ah well it wasn’t your money you wasted. Poor old lady.

You didn’t have a plan except to keep on driving until you could think of one.

Hours and hours of driving, petrol stations and greasy food later you pulled into a town which wasn’t marked on the map you stole at WHSmiths next to the Starbucks that had the best coffee you’d ever had in.

You definitely weren’t lost, you knew you’d driven all the way to Glen Coe, the north part of Scotland. Regardless of Johnny’s heritage, seeking shelter here right under their noses was probably a better plan than getting on a plane and moving from place to place where cameras can pick up where you are.

Out here in the wilderness, without WiFi and internet. They’d never find you. You walked around town for a bit then hit the road driving into the forest area to see if you could find a shelter further away from civilisation. And you did.

The present…

Happiness is a fickle creature. A constant companion to some, hides herself entirely from others. She’s been an elusive creature to you. You don’t particularly remember the last time she had visited you, it had been so long since she’d hidden herself away, you barely remember what she looks like. Nevertheless you feel yourself still seeking her out, even if you’re wholly against putting yourself into situations with others.

Just like this one, the Halloween bash. A stupid idea really but..oh who are you kidding it was an idiot idea and you knew it. But they hadn’t found you in the now five months you’d been hiding.

What’s the worst that could happen?

To be continued…

Tags | @fruitymoonbeams-blog

[mattsobvimyfav]

No one noticed (Matthew Sturniolo)

angst (im sad and u guys have to deal with it)

The night I broke wasn’t the first time I’d felt it coming. Heartbreak doesn’t hit all at once. It’s a slow unraveling—a thread pulled loose here, a frayed edge there—until one day, everything you’ve held together falls apart.

When Matthew ended things, it wasn’t loud or dramatic. He didn’t yell or accuse me of anything. No, he sat across from me on a grainy video call, his face pixelated but his words cutting like glass.

“This isn’t working,” he said, his voice heavy. “It’s not fair to either of us.”

I remember staring at the screen, feeling like I’d been punched in the stomach. For three years, we had been everything to each other. We dreamed of forever, wedding plans whispered under blankets, future kids’ names scribbled in notebooks. And then, just like that, he was pulling the rug out from under me.

I had begged him to reconsider. “We can make this work,” I had pleaded. “Long distance is hard, but it’s not impossible. We love each other, Matt. You're the one who moved.”

“I know,” he had said, his voice cracking. “But sometimes, love isn’t enough.”

Those words haunted me. They echoed in my head during the quiet moments, the in-between spaces of my days. The first few days, I cried until there was nothing left, my body exhausted from the weight of it all. My friends tried to distract me, dragging me to bars and movie nights, telling me, “You’re better off without him.” But they didn’t understand. How could they? They hadn’t built a life with him, only to watch it crumble.

I threw myself into routines, hoping they’d distract me. School, work, sleep—repeat. But no matter what I did, Matthew was there. In every song that shuffled on my playlist. In every couple holding hands on the street. In the ghost of his laugh that still lingered in my head.

At night, it was worse. The quiet made it impossible to ignore the emptiness. I’d lie awake, staring at the ceiling, my chest aching with the knowledge that he was gone. That he wasn’t coming back.

A month later, the pain hadn’t faded; I had just learned to wear it better. I smiled when I needed to, laughed when it was expected, and made it through my days without breaking in front of anyone. But inside? Inside, I was dying.

Nobody noticed. Not my friends, who thought I was “over it.” Not my family, who assumed time had healed me. They didn’t see the way my hands trembled when I passed by his favorite coffee shop. They didn’t hear the silent screams in my head when I saw photos of him on social media, smiling with his new life in LA.

I felt like I was drowning, but no one could see it.

I hit the floor, knees scraping against the cheap carpet. I buried my face in my hands, and for the first time in months, I reached for my phone and called him. I didn’t think. My fingers moved faster than my brain, and suddenly, it was ringing.

He answered on the third ring. “Y/n?” His voice, groggy and familiar, shattered me all over again.

“Come on, don’t leave me,” I sobbed, barely able to form the words. “It can’t be that easy.”

“Y/n, I—” he started, but I didn’t let him finish.

“I’ll get on a plane,” I said, my voice trembling, words spilling out like a flood I couldn’t control. “I’ll fly to your city. You can hold me, console me, and I’ll leave without a trace. Please, Matt.”

There was a long pause, the kind that stretched seconds into eternities. Then, quietly, he said, “Okay.”

The flight to LA felt like a fever dream. The lights of the city blurred as we descended, a smear of gold against the dark. I had spent the entire journey staring at the ticket in my hand, fingers gripping the edges so tightly they left creases.

He picked me up from LAX. We didn’t talk much on the drive to his place. I wanted to say so many things—ask him why, beg him to explain, to take it back—but the words sat heavy in my throat. Instead, I stared out the window, watching palm trees blur past.

When we got to his apartment, it hit me how much his life had changed without me. The space felt like him but not like the us I remembered. A guitar leaned against the wall. There were photos of his friends, his new life, scattered on shelves. It was a world I didn’t belong to.

We sat on the couch, and for a while, there was just silence. Then, without warning, I crumpled. Tears spilled out, hot and unstoppable. He pulled me into his arms, and I let him. I clung to him like he was the only solid thing in a world that kept shifting under my feet.

“I love you,” I whispered against his chest.

“I know.” he said, his voice breaking.

The night felt infinite and fleeting all at once. We talked in fragments, filling the gaps with touches, with memories, with the kind of desperation that comes when you know something is ending. He held me as I cried, his fingers tracing circles on my back. 

When dawn broke, the first rays of sunlight spilled across his face, highlighting the softness of his features. His lashes cast delicate shadows on his cheeks, and for a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to memorize him like this. Peaceful. 

I should have stayed. I should have let him wake up and begged him to reconsider. But I knew how this story would end. He had made his choice, and no amount of begging or pleading on my part would change that.

My chest felt heavy as I slipped out of his arms. The warmth of his body lingered on mine, a phantom reminder of the life we had shared. My steps were light as I moved around his apartment, careful not to wake him. Each movement felt like a betrayal—to him, to myself, to the love we once promised would be forever.

I grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from the counter. My hand trembled as I wrote the words: “I’m letting go.” Three words that felt like swallowing glass. I stared at the note for a long time, my tears smudging the ink.

I set it on his nightstand, next to the picture of us he hadn’t yet taken down. We looked so happy in that photo. It was a cruel irony, really. I traced the frame with my fingers before pulling away, the sting of goodbye sinking deeper into my chest.

The door closed behind me with a soft click. The sound echoed in my ears as I walked down the hallway, my suitcase dragging behind me. Each step felt heavier than the last, like the weight of what I was leaving behind was anchoring me to the ground.

In the back of the taxi, I stared out the window as LA blurred past me. The city was alive and indifferent to my heartbreak, its neon signs and palm trees mocking the ache in my chest. My phone buzzed in my lap, and I didn’t have to look to know it was him.

I opened our thread of messages, my thumb hovering over his name. The text was simple: “Where are you?”

For a moment, I considered replying. Telling him I was at the airport, that I couldn’t do this anymore, that I was sorry for not being stronger. But I couldn’t bear to drag this out.

Instead, I hit “Block.” His number disappeared from my contacts, his messages vanished, and the finality of it hit me like a blow to the chest. I did the same with his Instagram, his snapchat, every piece of him that tethered me to his world.

It wasn’t enough.

I stared at the empty screen, and for a moment, I wanted to scream. How could he do this? How could he let me go so easily? Didn’t he feel the same ache, the same unbearable weight of our ending? Or had I been the only one holding on this whole time?

The plane ride back to Boston was excruciating. Every memory of him clawed its way to the surface, refusing to let me rest. The first time he kissed me under the bleachers in high school. The way he laughed when I spilled coffee on myself at his old apartment. The night he told me he loved me.

And now this—the last night we would ever spend together. The last time I would feel his arms around me. The last time I’d hear him say my name with that mix of softness and certainty.

When the plane landed, the ache in my chest hadn’t dulled. I stepped off the plane feeling hollow, like I had left pieces of myself scattered across his apartment, across the city, across the last three years of my life.

At home, I crawled into bed and stared at the ceiling. My phone sat on the nightstand, silent and cold. There was nothing from him—no texts, no missed calls.

And there never would be again.

I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through the pain, but it swallowed me whole. The kind of heartbreak that makes you question if you’ll ever be whole again. The kind that leaves scars you can’t see but feel every time you try to move forward.

I had done what I said I would—I left without a trace. But as much as I tried to let him go, the truth was inescapable: part of me was still back in LA, in his arms, wishing for a second chance that would never come.

[msschemmenti]

a change of plans ✈️

jj x reader

summary: reader and jj are long distance and they plan a visit

a/n: having literal jj withdrawals also i had a dream last week that i buried my face in her stomach in the most comforting snuggle ever.

“no i promise i will be back in time to pick you up. we’re wrapping up with the local pd right now and then we’re out of here within the next two hours.” jj spoke down the phone as she leaned against the conference table they’d all been using for the last week.

“babe, it’s really not that necessary. i can always just get a cab to take me to yours.” y/n replied browsing the menu on the airport coffee shop she’d found her way to after going through security.

“absolutely not. we don’t know anything about these cab drivers. do you wanna know how many cases have started just like that?” jj frowned.

“no thank you. you know how i feel about your cases.” y/n shook her head and waved a finger in the air like jj could see her.

“yeah yeah— that’s what im saying. you’ll just have to settle for me baby.” jj shrugged.

y/n smiled softly, “you’re far from settling honey. i just don’t wanna be an inconvenience is all.”

jj scoffed with an affectionate roll of her eyes, “you’re not being an inconvenience. we haven’t been in the same state for longer than a day in four months— id be offended if i wasn’t the person you saw when you land in dc. i promise i will be there and i’ve got lots of romancing planned for you.”

“romancing? whats on the agenda?”

“wouldn’t you like to know,” jj grinned. “it’s a surprise, we’ve got four months of phone dates to make up for.”

“i love our phone dates, even the occasional skype date.” y/n grinned in thanks at the barista handing her a coffee and muffin.

“i do too, but i think ill enjoy physically having you with me a bit more.”

“it is my favorite place to be.”

“damn straight, so it’s settled. i’ll be there waiting for you. no cabs or any of that, got it?” jj spoke firmly.

“yes ma’am.” y/n confirmed.

“good,” jj grinned before turning her attention to derek who was waving her toward the door. “okay, we’re heading out now. i’ll see you in a few hours?”

“absolutely, stay safe! i love you. like a lot.” y/n smiled softly.

“well i love you more. like a lot more.” jj grinned, falling in step with morgan.

“and i love you most. like the very most.” they said in unison with a laugh before hanging up.

“chatting up the missus?” morgan asked with a chuckle.

“oh yeah, she’s on her way here for a visit.”

“that’s great jj, how long has she been out there?”

“way too long, it’s been over a month since i’ve seen her. she’s trying for a transfer closer to dc so we’re hopeful but until then we just suffer for four months at a time.” jj blew some hair out of her face before ducking into the suv to head for the jet.

-

y/n was one of the last of the plane, carryon bag rolling behind her. as she rolled her way through the airport she fished her phone out to call jj to figure out if she was at the airport yet or not. focusing on her cellphone, she stepped on the escalator and descended to the baggage claim and exit area. reaching the last step she looked up and was very surprised to see jj leaning against a pillar.

“oh you were serious about romancing, huh?” y/n grinned walking over to her girlfriend. jj stood at her full height with a grin on her face. she was holding a piece of paper that she’d made into a sign and a bouquet of y/n’s favorite flowers.

“i’m a woman of my word!” jj shrugged and extended the flowers toward y/n.

y/n grabbed the flowers and pulled jj as close as she could without jostling her sign too much, “here to pick up the most beautiful girl in the world, hm?”

“yep, had to turn a few ladies away. they seemed to be confused.” jj bit her lip teasingly.

“you better have turned them away!” y/n grinned pushing a finger into jj’s chest.

“of course i did, i know who im here for. and boy am i glad she’s finally here.” jj grinned leaning her forehead against y/n’s longingly.

“im glad to be here.” y/n said nuzzling their noses together.

“well can i have a kiss now, ive only been going through withdrawals for what…four months?”

y/n rolled her eyes affectionately and wrapped her arms around jj’s neck pulling her in for a very long awaited kiss. when they both finally pulled away jj grabbed the carry-on and y/n’s free hand.

“let’s get out of here, i’ve got a thing or two we’ve just got to do tonight.” jj smirked over her shoulder, eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

“oh yes, the romancing.” y/n grinned, allowing jj to pull her toward her car.

-

they make it far past the couch. and as y/n watched jj pull a discarded t-shirt over her head she couldn’t think of any other place she’d rather be. jj made for the kitchen for water and when she came back she gazed down at y/n lovingly.

“god, i missed you so much.” she leant down to kiss her girlfriends dewy forehead. y/n’s smile couldn’t get any sweeter. smitten was an understatement. but anytime it came to jj— she was a clingy smitten lovesick puppy.

“if you missed me as much as you claim, you’d come snuggle with me.”

“but i’ve got more romancing planned. i was going to make us a really nice dinner. and there’s a few gifts i got you. and i think we can do some more of this— in the bedroom though…” jj listed. y/n nodded along to her words attentively but pulled jj down on the couch. jj continued to list her plans and y/n continued maneuvering jj’s body into their favorite cuddle position. once jj was perfectly wedged between the back of the couch, y/n buried her head into her stomach with a content sigh. jj’s hands unconsciously came to run through y/n’s hair and the younger woman snuggled closer to her girlfriend. jj’s words trailed off as she caught sight of just how relaxed her girlfriend was.

“maybe we can do all that stuff tomorrow, im kinda enjoying holding you.”

“mhmm, sounds good babe, im enjoying being held.”

[heartbreak-hotel-35]

They’re Not You

Elvis Presley x Fem!Reader

Secret relationship, S M A L L age gap (because I love em)

70s Elvis / Elvis On Tour

• •—•• •••— •• •••

“Good show, EP! Great job.” Red said as he took his seat in the car. The enclosed space was filled with heavy breathing and sighs of relief. I slowly looked over at the King at his place in front of me, our knees only inches apart. He was drenched in sweat, his bright red jumpsuit crinkled in various places and his jewelry slightly askew. I loved looking at him like this. It meant that I would get to spend more time with him. I pulled a soft white towel from my bag and scooted forward on my seat, humming along with J.D. and Donnie.

“Wonderful job, EP.” I said softly, reaching up to dab his forehead dry.

“You saw the show?” He picked his head up, catching my gaze through the lenses of his gold sunglasses. I shook my head, moving to straighten up his hair a bit.

“No sir, I just know you did great.” I told him, a sly smile pulling at my lips. His top lip curled into a smirk and he smacked Red’s arm beside him.

“You make sure my girl gets into this next show, yeah?” He told him. I continued to dab his cheeks and nose, clearing him of any sweat droplets that had formed since jumping into the car. Red only nodded and turned back to his conversation with Bill. Elvis placed his hand on top of mine and took the towel from it.

“Mr. Presley,” I started, but he held up a finger and kissed my knuckles. Then he draped the towel over his eyes and laid his head back against the seat, drifting off into a short and restless nap. I huffed a laugh and turned to my bag, grabbing the small jewelry box Elvis had provided to put his belongings in after his shows. I slowly grabbed his hand and began to clear his fingers of the assortment of gold and gems. Once I had finished, I snapped the box closed, and tucked it away again, returning to my original position in the seat, listening silently to the conversations around me.

We pulled out onto the private airstrip, parking just a few feet away from the Lisa Marie. No matter how many times I see it, it will never be any less grand than it was the first time I saw it. The boys jumped out and began unloading what little luggage was in the car while the King stayed asleep in front of me.

“Elvis?” I whispered, tapping the side of his knee. He didn’t move an inch. “Elvis?” I tapped again.

“Hm?” He grunted, moving his hand to rest on mine again.

“We gotta board the plane.” I said, taking in the warmth of his hand on mine while it lasted. He reached up and pulled the towel from his face with his free hand, letting it fall in his lap.

“You comin’ with me?” He asked, his voice hoarse from the shows and lack of sleep he’d been enduring.

“I gotta ride on the little one, honey.” I replied, moving my other hand to grab the towel and set it aside. He shook his head and sat up, stretching out his back.

“Nuh uh, not this time baby.” He said, pulling my hand to his lips again. “Want you to ride with me.”

“We can’t. It’s amazing you’re risking it like this.” I said with a small laugh.

“Honey, I’ve had women on that plane before. Why are you any different?” He asked, his kisses traveling up the span of my arm. I closed my eyes, enjoying what little private time we had.

“Because I work for you.” I reminded him. “Someone’s gonna think I forced you into it. If you don’t I’m going to spill all your dark secrets.” My voice had a teasing tone.

“I ain’t got no dark secrets, baby.” He said darkly, leaning all the way forward now. I was thanking God for the tinted windows this car had.

“Am I not one?” I asked, eyes fluttering down to his all too familiar lips. I felt his hand snake up under my hair, resting on my neck, holding me close.

“Honey, I’d tell the whole world about you if I wasn’t so afraid they’d tear us apart.” He said breathily. I couldn’t help the smile that formed on my face.

“Would you let that happen, Mr. Presley?” I asked, touching my nose to his. He shook his head seriously.

“No ma’am. Not ever.” He replied. Then his lips were on mine. Oh, what a kiss it was. He devoured me like a man starved. I’d asked him about it one late night. Why he kissed me so differently than the hundreds of girls he saw every other night. I’ll never forget what he said.

‘They’re not you.’

Sure, he referenced a song of his. But the truth that he had managed to lace perfectly into his words made my heart stop. I meant something to him. He treasured me and the time we spent together. Elvis’ hands found my waist, gently tugging me forward. I smiled into the kiss and wiggled up on the seat, moving to put my knees in the floor. Reaching up to put my arms around his neck gave him room to wrap his own completely around me.

I could taste what little sweat was left on his beautiful face as he kissed me. He took a deep breath and pulled back only a little bit.

“You are a dangerous thing.” He whispered against me. “Maybe you shouldn’t fly with me.” The smile he put on let me know he was kidding. His grip around me tightened.

“I’ll ride with you, baby.” I said, moving his hair from his eyes. “If you’re sure you can keep your hands off me.” I shot him a wink. Elvis smirked and held my chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“You know I can’t do that.” He answered firmly. I stared up into his eyes.

“You did it just fine on the way here!” I pointed out, slapping the top of his thigh playfully. He grabbed either side of my face and held it firmly.

“I was asleep, honey, that’s not fair!” He punctuated his answer with another kiss to my lips, causing me to giggle. “I’ll just tell the boys you’re working on some new hair styles.” He suggested. I thought about it for a moment. That was indeed believable. I had been talking about trying something different with his hair.

“Alright.” I agreed. Another kiss.

“Alright, Mama. Let’s go.” He said, almost giddily. I gathered my things from the floor and followed him at a distance so as to not raise too many questions.

“What took so long?” Charlie asked. Elvis walked right on by him and to the bedroom of the plane. My eyes followed him but I stopped in front of Charlie.

“He just didn’t wanna wake up.” I said with a soft laugh. Hodge shook his head and moved to sit down while I began to make my way toward Elvis’ end destination. I stepped inside and he immediately jumped up and leaned out the door.

“We’re working on new hair styles, don’t y’all come in here.” He demanded before pulling the wooden door closed. I stood at the foot of the bed, watching as he laid down and patted the empty spot beside him. “Come on, honey.”

[cup1drul3z]

★ — I'll survive, i always do | EPILOUGE

ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ ʏᴇʟʟᴏᴡᴊᴀᴄᴋᴇᴛꜱ ᴀᴜ

CW : Plane crash, love triangle, pregnancy, wilderness, blood mentioned, fire mentioned, gun mentioned, they kill a deer, gore (?), major charater death

A/N: i hope you guys enjoyed this series!! dont be afraid to suggest my next long fic in the comments

The sun filtered weakly through the treetops, casting long, sharp shadows across the forest floor. Mel’s legs ached. Her lungs burned. Blood smeared her cheek from a branch that had slashed her face. But she didn’t stop.

She couldn’t stop.

Branches whipped against her arms as she crashed through the underbrush. Her breath came in panicked sobs, heart pounding like a war drum in her chest. Behind her, there were no shouts. No voices. Just the silence of something far worse.

The sound of the hunt.

They weren’t calling out for her. Not like they used to. Not like friends would.

Mel knew what this was now.

They were hunting her.

Not in jest. Not in one of Jinx’s twisted games. No — this was real. This was primal. She had seen the look in Violet’s eyes. The way Sevika moved, silent and sharp like a predator. Even Jinx, who once used to cling to her like a sister, had grinned like something feral the last time they locked eyes.

This was no longer survival.

This was something else.

She tripped over a root and went down hard, biting back a scream as her knee smashed into the frozen ground. For a second, she just lay there, eyes wide to the canopy above, trying not to break — not to cry. The trees swayed gently overhead, indifferent to her horror.

A few months ago, they were just kids and teachers.

Now?

Now they were monsters.

Mel pushed herself up, stumbling forward again. She had to get away. She had to find someone. Anyone.

Y/N was gone. That was the final unraveling thread. The moment everything shifted.

She’d died after she gave birth. They’d buried her quietly, marked the place with a circle of stones. But something had broken in the group after that. Sevika didn’t speak for days. Jinx started pacing at night, whispering to herself again. Even Violet changed — colder, quieter. The grief had hollowed them out.

And then they stopped being afraid of the hunger.

Mel clutched her stomach as it twisted again. She hadn’t eaten in days. She hadn’t dared.

A crack behind her.

She whipped her head around, breath caught in her throat.

Nothing.

But she knew.

She took off again, running faster than she ever had. Her boots thudded against the earth. She tore through brush, thorns scratching her skin. She didn’t care. If she could just find the lake again, maybe someone would be there. Maybe—

She slammed into something solid.

Hands grabbed her.

A scream tore from her throat but it was silenced by a calloused palm. She struggled, kicked, bit. But it was no use.

She looked up—and saw Violet.

Expression blank. Lips pressed in a thin line. No emotion in her eyes. No mercy.

“Please,” Mel choked, trembling. “You don’t have to—”

“We do,” Violet whispered. “We always did.”

A shadow stepped into view. Sevika. Holding the blade. She didn’t look at Mel. Didn’t have to.

Jinx laughed from somewhere behind her, light and unhinged.

Then—darkness.

Two days later, a pair of hikers stumbled upon the clearing. The forest had started to thaw. Snow melted into mud and blood. What they found would haunt them forever.

A group of survivors. Malnourished. Filthy. Eyes hollow. Faces drawn.

And among them—an infant, bundled in furs, sleeping soundly in Sevika’s arms.

Y/N’s baby.

When asked how long they’d been out there, none of them answered.

When asked how many they started with, only Jinx giggled.

“Too many,” she said. “But not anymore.”

The rescuers led them away slowly, carefully.

No one looked back.

Not even once.

ps : this is NOT a diss on mel. i love her sm but before i decided the "pit girl" i already knew i was gonna make jinx, vi, and sevika the final girls

[autisticshadowthehedgehog]

A Cluster of Burning Stars - Prologue

{ao3}

“What do you think it’s like down on Earth?” 

“I bet there’s lots more places to run than up here. It looks so big. All the pictures make it look so open. So much bigger than this stupid ship.” 

“Don’t be rude.” 

“I hope it’s just like those fairytales you read me, Maria! With magic and destiny and true love…” 

“--What about you, Shadow?” 

“...it doesn’t matter. If we go there, we’ll go together, and that’s what’s important.”

“...”

“...”

“...Stop being a sap, Shadow, and tell us what you actually wanna see.”

“Fine. I wanna hold a spider.” 

“I knew it.” 

“Ha ha.” 

“Stop arguing, boys. We have to go back to lessons in a bit. Let’s just… enjoy the view.” 

“It… it is a lovely view.”

“...Yeah.” 

---

Knuckles the Echidna and Miles “Tails” Prower the Fox had been thorns in the side of Doctor Ivo Robotnik for way too long for him to not lose his mind the second he saw them during his most recent conquest of the planet. Of course, they wouldn’t have it any other way, this was pretty much how they get their kicks. It got a bit difficult sometimes, but that’s what the extended team was for. But for today, it’s just Knuckles and Tails. They should be fine for now. 

Today’s mission brought them somewhere strange, though. When Tails picked up the signal that Robotnik’s ship had reached the general area, he was worried that he was going to a deserted island in order to capture more flickies to turn into robots-- still hadn’t gotten tired of that, apparently. But when he picked Knuckles up from Angel Island and flew over, they had to engage stealth mode incredibly quickly, as they noticed the island was, indeed, not deserted. 

“Hurry it up, Tails.” Knuckles muttered, standing on the wing of the plane and staring down at the huge metallic facility taking up half the island. He could see a protected road and an arched, towering fence over it. It led a little bit off the shoreline, over to what seemed to be some form of landing pad. What drew attention the most, though, were the flashing lights and distant sound of an alarm. Robotnik must already be inside. 

“I’m working on it.” Tails muttered, giving him a quick glare. “It’s a bit hard to scan government files and fly a plane at the same time.” He put a hand to the communicator in his ear, and called, “Vector, Espio, you better be working, too.” 

He heard a few mutters of confirmation from the other end of the line. 

Knuckles glanced down at the land below, narrowing his eyes so the lights stopped bothering him so much. “This isn’t the kind of island I like being around, Tails.” 

“I know.” 

“I prefer silence. Nature. Solitude. No sudden noises.” 

“I’m aware… hold on, Vector got something.” 

Knuckles sighed and reached to his ear, turning on his communicator; he tried to keep it off, mainly, because the static when everyone was silent annoyed him to no end. But once it was on, he could hear the Chaotix from back in Station Square, scanning whatever computer they’d managed to snag. 

“–Prison Island,” Vector was saying, as Knuckles could hear Espio distantly chasing Charmy around the room; the bee seemed to have grabbed something from his fellow detective and was refusing to give it back.

“Prison Island?” Tails asked. 

“Secret Military Base.” Vector affirmed. “Research facility of GUN. There’s a ton of military facilities, but that big thing in the middle should be their prison. Six levels of security. Should be completely impossible to get through.” 

“Okay,” Tails said, “So how long do you think it’ll take us to bust after Robotnik in there?” 

“Less than an hour.” 

“Alright. We’re shutting off communications. Send the emergency alert if you need anything, you know how.” Tails switched off his communicator, and then said, “You ready to break into a government facility?” 

Knuckles finally smiled, and punched his palm. “When am I not?” 

---

Six levels of security, protected by the best technology and weaponry that the Guardian Units of Nations could offer, were never going to be a match for Dr Ivo Robotnik. He hadn’t even brought his best robots-- he sat in a simple Robo-Walker and blazed his way through hall after hall, hidden elevator after elevator. Security drones would come to attack, but of course they were no match for his technology. Robotnik was the genius of the century, at least according to him, so of course this would be no problem. 

There were six levels of security, he knew, and the files he’d spent days hacking into were a bit more correct than what Vector dug up in a few minutes. While each level had defenses, guards, cameras… everything stopped at Level Seven. GUN never assumed that anyone would be able to get that far, and besides, they didn’t like people knowing what was in there. 

Once Robotnik entered, he approached the large, shining computer in the center. And he looked underneath, to see the frozen tube, holding GUN’s dark, shameful secret within.

“So this is the military’s top secret weapon. A bit smaller than I expected.” 

He was not deterred; size was no guarantee of power. His own Bokkun messenger could carry a multitude of explosives, and that stupid fox couldn’t be over 3’0, and yet he and his echidna friend had been foiling his plans for far too long. Luckily, he had a solution, thanks to the hidden files, the buried research of his brilliant grandfather. And now that he had that information, he could finally defeat those dumb animals, and proceed with his plans for the Robotnik Empire. All he had to do…

“Enter user data, aha… enter password.” 

An easy password. Of course, GUN wouldn’t have guessed it. Robotnik had guessed it due to, as Tails would put it, his inflated sense of ego leading him to believe his family line was superior to all others on the planet. Robotniks had always treasured family above all else, but not always for reasons of superiority, something the girl he was using as a password had once understood. 

“M-A-R-I-A.”

The computer buzzed, and then all Robotnik had to do was place the key to open the chamber, a key that GUN had haughtily assumed none but them would ever be able to find, bring to the facility, and reach level seven to utilize. 

But being experienced at stealing these precious stones to power his machines (though Knuckles always somehow got them back, annoyingly), Robotnik simply removed the white chaos emerald from his pocket, and placed it into a console beside the capsule. It took only a moment before the distant hum and glow of the emerald began its work. Robotnik allowed the gunner machine he sat inside to step back as the capsule slowly began to rise, a small amount of smoke clearing from the platform. GUN and their dramatics… well, honestly, Robotnik could appreciate that. Presentation was very important.

The capsule finished rising, and lifted itself in a diagonal position, as if whatever was inside would need to sit up. Then, with another puff of smoke, the lid flipped open. 

And, in confusion, Robotnik watched as a black hedgehog climbed out, shakily standing. 

The hedgehog was still for a moment, eyes narrowed, clearly trying to figure out where he was. He then turned, seeing Robotnik himself. His eyes widened for just a moment, before the emotion was hidden again. Carefully, he observed the room, and then crossed his arms. 

Sensing he wouldn’t speak on his own, Robotnik prompted, “So. The military’s top-secret weapon is… a hedgehog.” 

The hedgehog continued to stare, and then knelt down. Eyes down, he said, in a quiet, dark voice, “My name is Shadow.” He looked up, then stood and crossed his arms again. “Since you were so kind to release me, my master, I will grant you one wish.” 

Robotnik took a moment, trying to decide if the hedgehog was joking. It seemed a bit impossible to tell. But, well, with an ego like Robotnik’s, it was quite easy for him to accept that, of course, this creature would immediately want to serve one as great as him. 

“Well, I could definitely use some assistance getting out of here.” Robotnik said, considering. “I’m sure GUN has already brought in more forces. And that silly echidna and his little friends will probably come in to ruin my fun.” 

The hedgehog once again had a moment where his facial expression changed, a glimmer of something behind his eyes. “GUN? We’re in a GUN facility?” 

“Where else would you be? If you are this ‘ultimate lifeform,’ you are a GUN weapon.” 

The hedgehog watched him for a moment, and then turned and began inspecting the room. He walked to the computer, running a hand across it, before he turned to his capsule. He peered inside, almost confused. 

“Is something the matter… Shadow?” 

The hedgehog looked up. “Am I the only one here?” 

“But of course. You’re the weapon, aren’t you?” 

The hedgehog blinked once. Then twice. Then he turned, so the doctor could not see his face. A small whisper. Tiny enough that Robotnik, who wasn’t paying much attention anyway, definitely wouldn’t have heard it– and if he did, he wouldn’t have known what to do with it, or with the break in the hedgehog’s voice as he spoke. 

“They killed them.” 

They wouldn’t have kept them separate, would they? They’d want all their eggs in one basket. That’s why they were all on the ARK in the first place. 

Maria died to keep them all safe. She died and they killed the others anyway. Of course they would. Of course they would, they’d always said that Shadow was the most useful. That’s why he’d had to protect them, that’s… that’s why it was his fault, he hadn’t protected them enough, and now they were all dead. 

GUN had taken everything. 

---

Shadow burst through everything in the facility, and when they reached the outside, and he stopped to take a breath, and he looked up at the Earth that had been denied to him for so long, denied to all of them, he held his tears back. 

Two mobians were there, species he vaguely recognized from their textbooks on the ARK. Fox? And… porcupine? Bandicoot? Echidna? Echidna seemed right. The red echidna turned to him, eyes wide with confusion and anger. 

“Hey, you!” he shouted, and Shadow resisted the urge to cover his ears, the noise of the collapsing building inside and the distant gunshots already thundering in his head. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The fox gave him some kind of chiding, but Shadow didn’t listen. He just gave them both a fiery glare. “I’m granting my family justice.” he whispered, not caring if they could or could not hear him. 

He leapt forwards, then, spinning and ramming into the echidna. It sent the red mobian flying back, and Shadow took no time in turning and swinging a kick, sending the fox flying away from him. He heard the echidna leap back up, shouting something in an excited tone– someone who liked to fight, then. The fox said nothing, but Shadow could see him get back to his feet, steadying himself. 

But as Shadow turned to continue the brawl, he wasn’t thinking about them. He was thinking about that first night.

“I can’t sleep.” 

“Why?”

“It’s a new room. I don’t know how.” 

“So why bother me?” 

“It’s your room. How do you sleep here?” 

“I just… do. Other hedgehog, help me out here.” 

“No, I’m with her on this. I feel weird.” 

“...you want to cuddle, don’t you?” 

Two little voices, muttering, “Maybe.” 

“Fine. Come here.” 

He remembered that feeling. He had to be ten years old then, they were all so young. He’d scooted back on the bottom bunk, and then the blue hedgehog had crawled up, cautiously curling up on the bed’s edge, but then the youngest leapt on, bounced, and dragged them all together. She laid inbetween them, hugging them to her, refusing to let go. She had her head on Shadow’s shoulder, then, and whispered, “Night-night.” 

Both of the others had been uncomfortable at first, not used to touch. But they’d realized fast that she needed this, and, well, maybe they needed it, too. Just someone to hold. 

I’m sorry. 

They were gone now. Because he’d failed them. 

I’m sorry, Maria. 

I’m sorry, Amy. 

I’m sorry, Sonic. 

I won’t fail your memory. 

---

Hundreds of miles away, on a deserted island, a second pod let out a long beep, before falling silent again.

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

Day Six of Bucktommy Fluffebruary had Stargazing as a prompt, and what was supposed to be a cut to a trip turned into an immediate transition into porn. The porn is silly and fluffy, but...look, I tried to keep this all PG. But sometimes you just gotta fuck that fireman, also I wrote this a few weeks ago and it was too late to rewrite it when I finally looked at it again. @bucktommyfluffebruary I'm so sorry.

They’re having a beer on the back step, and Evan keeps looking at the sky and squinting.

“What’s up?” Tommy teases.

“I think I can see part of Orion’s Belt?” Evan says, squinting harder. “Or that’s a plane.”

Tommy tries to follow his gaze and doesn’t see much of anything other than a few sparse clouds and some airplanes. “Could be.”

“I think the only time I ever lived somewhere where you could see the stars was when I was on the ranch,” he says, settling back in his chair. “Chris was telling me if they go right outside El Paso they can see everything.”

“Mm.” Tommy takes a sip of beer and considers the sky for a moment. “I think the clearest sky I ever saw was in Iraq and definitely didn’t appreciate it at the time.”

“Well, there was other stuff going on,” Evan points out, and Tommy nods. “But you don't get to see them when you're outside LA? Or in the sky?”

“Mm, a little, but I don't think I take the time to appreciate it then either,” Tommy says, resting his cheek on Evan's shoulder. “I like looking at the city when I'm up, though.”

“Yeah,” Evan agrees, sounding dreamy and happy. Tommy's taken him up a few times, and his favorite part is watching Evan take in the twinkling lights of the city at night or the glow of a sunset. “We should go somewhere.”

Tommy smiles, having seen it coming from a mile away. “Yeah. Maybe around your birthday?”

He’s already making plans in his head, because Evan’s birthday is in three weeks. They’d gotten a few days off together, but that hadn’t been a sure thing until this week, so no plans had been made.

“In the meantime, I think I can make you see some stars,” he says, glancing up at his boyfriend just in time to see his eyebrows twitch upward and his cheeks flush.

“You’re a smooth guy, Tommy Kinard,” Evan says, setting his beer down before swinging his leg over Tommy’s lap and settling in it. “Think you can make it happen?”

Tommy’s hands hike up the back of his shirt so he can spread them across the back of his ribcage, and his eyes are trained on Evan’s lips. “Wouldn’t be the first time, would it?”

Evan leans in and licks his bottom lip before backing off, and Tommy tries to kiss him, but Evan keeps moving just out of reach. He tightens his hold on him and pulls him forward until his body is flush against Tommy’s and latches onto his neck instead.

“Fuck,” Evan groans, rocking against his stomach. He grips Tommy’s hair and presses him closer until Tommy’s sucking a bruise low on the side of his neck. “C’mon.”

There’s a bit of mental calculation to avoid completely fucking up his back before Tommy can stand with Evan wrapped around him. When he gets them inside, he makes a beeline for their room and lays Evan on the bed, kissing his pretty, whining mouth as he undoes the tie on his basketball shorts.

He strips himself and then Evan quickly, craving the feeling of their bare skin pressed together. When he covers Evan’s body with his own to kiss him again, he sighs against his mouth when Evan wraps his arms and legs around him. But when he starts to lift himself up, Evan’s still holding on, so Tommy just sort of…lifts him off the mattress while he's on all fours. He breaks the kiss and looks down at his boyfriend incredulously.

“Are you koala-ing me right now?” he asks, laughing. He scoops his hands under Evan, and sure enough, there's space between his back and the mattress.

“I didn't think it would actually work,” Evan admits, looking over his shoulder. He's only a couple inches from the mattress, but he's also got a death grip on Tommy. “Kind of feeling like the dog that got the car right now.”

They both start giggling so hard that Tommy ends up collapsing on him again, and when he tries to roll onto his side, Evan’s still holding him.

“Oh, my god,” Tommy gasps between giggles. Evan’s shaking against him, his face completely red where it's smashed into the duvet to stifle his laughter.

It doesn't kill the mood, but it shifts it. Neither one of them can hold onto the other one without it turning into endless giggling, and Evan ends up starfishing on his belly, which is worse. He looks ridiculous, and Tommy ends up curled over his back with his face pressed against the back of his ribcage to muffle his laughter. Evan’s back bounces under his face when that starts to set him off.

“I'm sorry,” Tommy wheezes, rolling to sit upright. “I-I can't.”

Evan rises up to kneel next to him, and Tommy smiles into the kiss that's pressed against his mouth. He looks down at Evan’s still hard dick and raises an eyebrow at him. 

“What?” Evan asks defensively, flopping back onto the pillows. “I can multitask.”

“Is getting the giggles and staying hard at the same time ‘multitasking’?” Tommy asks, crawling over him and kissing his chest. 

“I mean, it's at least kind of impressive,” Evan argues, drawing a knee up when Tommy settles between his legs. “Right?”

“Extremely,” Tommy agrees seriously, and Evan sticks his tongue out at him.

“Did that kill the mood?” Evan asks when Tommy's mouth is centimeters from his dick.

Tommy looks at his dick and then back up at Evan's face. “I mean, I was about to choke myself on your dick, so—”

Evan shifts under him, which bumps the head of his dick against Tommy's chin. On any other night, it'd be a little hot. Tonight? 

“Oh, my god,” Evan whines when Tommy giggles against his thigh.

“You started it!” Tommy protests when Evan covers his face with his hands. “Aw, baby.”

Except Evan isn’t embarrassed, he’s hiding a big grin like a liar. Tommy pulls his hands away to reveal it and kisses him.

“I'll skip the blowjob,” Tommy decides. “Because I don't want to accidentally bite you.”

Evan peeks between his fingers and looks down at Tommy's half hard cock. “Do you want me to—”

“Oh, I'll be fine,” Tommy says, stretching for the nightstand and grabbing the lube. He slicks Evan up, gets on his knees, reaches back to press two fingers into himself, and straddles his lap. “I think I owe you some stars.”

“Y-yeah,” Evan agrees, watching raptly as Tommy positions himself over his cock. When Tommy starts to sink down on him, sparks shooting up his spine at the perfect stretch, Evan’s head falls back against the headboard with a soft thump, and he swears under his breath. “Holy shit, Tommy.”

Tommy rocks down onto him, his eyelids fluttering shut at the stretch and fullness. He lifts himself off until just the head is clenched inside him and reaches back to spread more lube on Evan. When he sinks down again, the extra slide brings his ass all the way to the cradle of Evan’s pelvis, and he rocks with a moan.

“Fuck,” Evan gasps, thrusting up minutely. He grips Tommy's hip and thigh and sits up to kiss him, flicking his tongue against Tommy's. When Tommy starts riding him, Evan gasps against his mouth and pulls back to look down at their hips. His brows draw together, and his lips part, shiny and so pink. He fucks up into Tommy, meeting his thrusts, and Tommy tries his best to clench rhythmically on a slow pull out. It's a trick he's pulled off with less endowed guys, but Evan is thick enough that he's not sure it'll work until Evan is crying out against his shoulder. 

“Stars?” Tommy asks, cradling his face and smiling when Evan’s gaze drops to his mouth as he nods slowly. “God, you feel amazing, sweetheart.”

Evan smiles back and grinds into him. “So do you. I love you so fucking much.”

Tommy presses his forehead against Evan’s and pants, “Fuck, I love you.”

Evan’s arms go around his waist, holding him tight once more, but it doesn't set off another round of laughter, because he's holding Tommy in place so he can fuck into him like a goddamn machine. Tommy feels like he can't catch his breath, he's leaking against Evan’s torso and his brain is whiting out while Evan fucks him so hard that he can barely hold himself up. He ends up clinging to Evan and crying out into his shoulder and neck until he's being rocked onto Evan's cock nice and slow. 

Phantom aftershocks of an orgasm that hasn't hit yet make him twitch against Evan, and the world goes sideways for a minute when he gets lowered onto his back. 

“I'm s’posed to be doing the work,” he protests weakly.

Evan feeds his cock back into Tommy and fucks into him in one smooth stroke, ripping a moan out of Tommy’s chest. 

“You're out of your mind if you think I'm not seeing stars right now, baby,” Evan pants, driving into him. “You feel so fucking perfect.”

He folds Tommy up and drills into him until Tommy can't do much more than writhe under him and let out a series of cries that are completely involuntary. Sweat drips onto him from Evan’s face, but he doesn't slow down.

“I'm gonna cum,” Tommy gasps, grabbing at Evan's shoulders. When Evan still doesn't slow down, Tommy sobs through his orgasm and slaps a hand over his mouth reflexively. Evan shakes his head until Tommy lifts it away, and he convulses when Evan keeps going. “Holy fuck, f-fuck, I can't—Evan.”

His boyfriend's name comes out on a whine, and Evan drives into him one last time with a grunt, grinding into Tommy as his cock pulses cum into him.

They end up collapsed together, and Evan’s shaking against him. Tommy grips his body tighter with his arms around him, and then Evan shakes even more, and he realizes it's with laughter.

“Now you're doing it,” Evan says against his neck.

Tommy snorts. “If you think I can hold onto you that tight right now, you're high.”

Evan carefully pulls out of him and kisses him sweetly before going to the bathroom and opening the linen cabinet. Tommy floats for a bit while Evan waits for the faucet to warm, and he smiles when a warm, damp washcloth is wiped over his inner thighs. 

“Still wanna go stargazing?” he asks, blinking at his boyfriend. 

“Yep,” Evan says, coming in for another kiss. “But this works until then.”

Tommy twitches when the washcloth gets swiped over his belly and cock. “I think flying a helicopter might be less taxing. Seriously, I think you'll break my pelvis if you try something like that in thirty years.”

Evan grins and nuzzles his cheek before kissing him again. “Seventy-year-old Tommy can take it.”

“Can sixty-three-year-old Evan?”

“I'll just have to keep up on my leg day workouts,” Evan says with a cheeky smile. “We're gonna be the hottest retirees in LAFD history, babe.”

Tommy rolls his eyes, but his stomach flutters in a decidedly juvenile way at the foregone conclusion that they'll still be together in thirty years and just as in love and just as into each other. When Evan kisses him again, he likes to think he can feel an answering flutter. 

–

[twistedheartsclub]

Marked for the Hoard Male Dragon Shifter X Female Reader PT2

🖤 Author’s Note Marked for the Hoard is an original dark fantasy romance story featuring obsessive love, ancient magic, and a dragon shifter who has waited centuries for his mate. This is not fanfiction — the world, characters, and lore are entirely original. At the heart of the story is Y/N, a modern girl unknowingly descended from a bloodline once bound to dragons. When she returns to her ancestral homeland, she steps straight into the territory of Vaeroth — a powerful and obsessive dragon shifter who has watched and waited for generations.His name, in the old tongue, means “keeper of ruin” or “the one who waits beneath ash.” He is the last of the great drakes. And he has chosen her as the final piece of his hoard. She was never meant to come here. But now that she has, Vaeroth will never let her leave.

⚠️ Warnings: yandere love interest · kidnapping · obsession · forced proximity · possessiveness · dubcon · marking/bonding · psychological manipulation · monster lover · nonhuman anatomy · breeding kink themes · ritualistic claiming · emotional dependency · primal behavior · isolation · fantasy violence

PART ONE HERE

“Y/N!”

A voice—familiar, broken.

She froze.

Through the trees, Maya appeared, face pale, eyes wide.

Then Jade, crying out her name as they raced toward her.

She collapsed into their arms, shaking.

“Where were you?” Maya whispered. “We’ve been looking for you for two days.”

Y/N opened her mouth.

But all that came were flashbacks—

The heat.

The mark.

The way his body moved over hers like something divine.

She gasped.

And fainted.

Later – The Airbnb

The first thing she saw was the ceiling fan.

Then the soft white towel wrapped around her.

Then her friends—hovering, frantic, voices hushed and panicked.

“She’s burning up—get the water going again—”

“Her legs—look at the marks—Jade, look at her neck.”

“I knew something was wrong, I knew it.”

Y/N blinked, dizzy. “He…”

“Shh,” Jade whispered, holding her face. “You’re safe. But we’re leaving. Now.”

“There’s a flight in an hour,” Maya said, already packing. “We’re not waiting for the boat. I called a pilot. I don’t care if it drains my savings.”

“Local police didn’t even try to look for you,” Jade muttered, angry and shaken. “They knew. They all knew.”

They helped her up. Into the shower. Her legs barely worked.

The water stung. The marks glowed faintly beneath her skin.

Maya cried as she scrubbed dirt from Y/N’s knees.

Jade wrapped her in a blanket like she was glass.

They didn’t ask for details.

They just got her out.

It was nearly dinner hour when they reached the airstrip.

The village streets were empty, just as Maya had hoped—windows shuttered, lanterns dim, fires lit indoors for the evening meal.

Tradition, the locals had called it.

But now? It felt like a trap. A warning.

“Be inside when the fire dies. Stay home. Stay safe.”

Y/N walked between them, wrapped in a long shawl, her face hidden beneath a wide-brimmed straw hat they’d bought that morning—before they knew.

She hadn’t said a word.

Her steps were uneven. Her hands trembled under the fabric.

The charter plane waited on the far edge of the narrow field, propellers spinning, the pilot waving them forward.

“Just keep your head down,” Jade whispered. “Almost there.”

Maya gripped her hand.

Every rustle in the brush made them flinch. Every shadow stretched too long.

But no one stopped them.

No voices called out.

Just the wind.

And the tightness in the air, like the sky itself was holding its breath.

Inside the small plane, the hum of the engine masked the sound of their heartbeat.

The pilot said nothing. Just nodded as they climbed aboard.

Y/N sat between them, silent, covered. The moment her seatbelt clicked into place, her whole body flinched.

Maya reached over and rested a hand on her thigh.

Jade leaned in, whispering low. “That couple we met? They said the locals still believe in the old ways. That every few decades a girl goes missing. Chosen.”

“Offered,” Maya corrected softly.

Jade swallowed. “They said he never lets them go.”

A gust of wind shook the wings.

The pilot rolled the throttle.

The plane surged forward.

Faster. Louder.

The island shrank behind them.

And just as the wheels left the ground—

A roar.

Not from the engine.

Not from the wind.

A roar that split the clouds.

Deep. Bone-shaking. Inhuman.

The pilot stiffened.

Y/N’s head snapped toward the window.

But all she saw was sky.

Burning gold.

The plane climbed hard into the clouds.

Inside, the hum of the engines buzzed like tension beneath the skin. The cabin shook lightly with turbulence as the island grew smaller beneath them—its cliffs fading into shadow, the shoreline swallowed by sea.

The pilot glanced back, his voice clipped, tight. “Three hours. If the winds hold, we’ll hit the coast just before sunrise.”

He didn’t say what coast.

He didn’t ask questions.

But his knuckles were white on the throttle.

“They’re not following us, right?” Maya asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer.

He didn’t have to.

Because they’d all heard the roar.

And Y/N, swaddled in silence, still hadn’t spoken.

She stared out the window, unmoving.

Not crying.

Not blinking.

Just listening.

Far Below – The Cliffs of Vaeroth’s Domain

The chamber was cold.

The silks scattered. The furs left tangled and empty. The scent of fire and sweat still lingered—but it was already fading.

Vaeroth stood at the mouth of the lair, hands clenched at his sides, his human form trembling with restraint.

Behind him, the Elder Woman spoke quietly.

“She was not meant to wake yet. The elixirs should have held her another day.”

Vaeroth didn’t turn.

“I left for a few hours. To bring her food. To gather the oils for the next bond rite.”

“She was not supposed to leave the mountain.”

“She was mine.”

The ground beneath his feet blackened.

Rocks cracked.

Smoke curled from his fingertips.

“She is not far,” the Elder said. “Her scent lingers. Her blood sings still.”

“She ran,” he growled. “And she was taken. While I was gone.”

His voice wasn’t loud—but it scraped like broken stone.

“She did not leave willingly,” the Elder offered gently.

But it didn’t matter.

Because to Vaeroth, it was theft.

And when something is stolen from a dragon—

The world burns until it’s returned.

He stepped to the cliff’s edge.

The clouds churned above.

And his wings—massive, black, gold-veined and terrible—unfurled with a snap that split the air.

“Find her,” he said.

“Before the stars forget my mercy.”

The wheels hit the ground with a jolt.

Y/N flinched so hard she bit her tongue.

The pilot guided the plane along a small coastal runway tucked between palm trees and cliffs. It wasn’t home. Not yet. But it was the mainland—a bustling little harbor town on the southern edge of Greece.

Three hours from the island.

Ten hours from home, with layovers and customs and no sleep.

But it was far enough to breathe.

“We’re safe,” Maya whispered, gripping Y/N’s hand as they stepped onto the tarmac.

Jade pulled her hood higher, adjusting the shawl again to hide her face. “We’ll book a flight from Athens. Get a hotel. Rest. Then disappear.”

Y/N didn’t answer.

Her hands shook.

Her skin burned.

And somewhere inside her chest, something shuddered violently—like a scream with no voice.

He knows.

The girls guided her through the airport. Customs. A car to the hotel. She didn’t remember most of it.

They got her into the room, turned on the AC, ordered bottled water and soft food.

Jade rubbed her back. Maya brushed her hair.

Still, Y/N said nothing.

But she felt something.

Like a thread being pulled tight.

A string snapping.

Like someone out there had just—

Roared.

Back on the Island

The Airbnb was empty.

No luggage. No scent of soap. No unwashed clothes or cell chargers.

Gone.

Every trace of her.

The village authorities offered only shrugs. The locals stared at the ground.

Vaeroth stood in the threshold, hands at his sides.

Andre—his second—shifted nervously beside him. “They must’ve taken her by private plane. It was too fast for the ferries.”

“Did anyone see which way?”

“No one’s talking.”

Vaeroth stepped forward once.

And the walls shattered.

The front of the Airbnb exploded outward in a burst of flame and force, sending debris across the grass. The floor cracked beneath him. Fire licked the stone.

“Find. Her.”

His voice was quiet.

Too quiet.

And the sky began to darken.

The hotel room was dim and still.

Soft linens. Heavy curtains. The hum of the air conditioner.

Jade and Maya had stepped out for food, leaving Y/N tucked into the bed. They’d drawn the blinds. Turned off the TV. Given her a melatonin and whispered promises.

“Sleep. You’re safe now. Just rest.”

But safety was a lie.

She dreamed of him again.

Not a memory—a sensation.

Of his hands holding her open.

Of his mouth on her throat, his teeth sinking in with claiming heat.

Of the way her legs had wrapped around him like instinct.

“You’re mine, little flame. Even now, I burn inside you.”

She felt him—again—between her thighs. Felt him marking her, like his body had carved itself into her soul.

And when he thrust into her, in the dream—

She screamed.

Y/N shot upright in the bed, drenched in sweat, screaming, sobbing.

“No, no—stop—*please don’t—*I didn’t mean to—”

The door slammed open.

“Y/N!” Maya dropped the takeout. “What’s happening?!”

Jade was there in seconds, climbing into bed, pulling Y/N into her arms. “It’s okay—you’re okay—it’s not real, you’re with us—”

But Y/N sobbed harder.

Because it was real.

Her body ached like she’d been touched again.

Bitten.

Used.

And worst of all—her stomach twisted with a heat that wasn’t fear.

It was want.

And that terrified her most of all.

Jade gently wiped her face. Maya got her a water bottle with shaking hands.

“You’re almost home, baby,” Jade whispered. “Two more hours. The flight’s soon.”

“Just hold on,” Maya said. “We’re getting you out of this.”

But Y/N’s eyes drifted toward the window.

And she didn’t say it out loud.

He’ll come for me.

Because some part of her wanted him to.

Lightning shimmered behind his wings.

Vaeroth soared through the clouds—all scale and fury, the night sky bending around his massive form. His eyes blazed gold, slashing through the fog and storm, seeking.

“Where are you…” he growled low.

He’d lost her scent three times—once near the harbor, again mid-flight—but it never faded completely. Not with the bond pulsing, bleeding magic through the sky like a flare only he could feel.

She was still his.

Still warm with his fire.

And now—

He saw it.

A glint of silver slicing through the clouds ahead.

A plane.

Civilian.

Slow.

“Found you.”

He pushed harder, the wind shrieking across his wingspan, rain hammering against his scaled shoulders. He had hours before they landed. Maybe less.

But he would not lose her again.

Not now.

Not when she was carrying his mark.

Not when she was possibly—

No. He wouldn’t say it. Not yet.

Inside the Plane

Maya glanced out the window.

Dark sky. Heavy clouds. Distant flashes of lightning.

Something itched beneath her skin.

She leaned slightly, trying to see past the wing.

Nothing.

But the feeling didn’t go away.

The air felt heavier now.

Like something big was flying just beneath the clouds.

She looked to her side.

Y/N lay slumped in her seat, soft breaths coming slow and deep. The sleeping pill had worked. Jade had offered it with water, and Y/N hadn’t even protested.

But now?

Now Maya watched her twitch, her hand fisting the edge of her blanket, her brow furrowing.

Dreaming.

No—fighting.

Maya looked back out the window.

And though she saw nothing—

Something was watching.

She just didn’t know what.

The plane landed just after sunrise.

Bleary-eyed travelers shuffled through customs. No one looked too closely at the three girls—two panicked, one limp between them, her hood up, sunglasses hiding bruises no one wanted to see.

Jade flagged the first uniformed officer she saw.

“We need help,” she said, breathless. “She was taken. We just got back from—”

The officer didn’t hesitate.

Within ten minutes, Y/N was in a room with white walls, glass panels, and a woman in a navy blazer offering her lukewarm water in a paper cup.

Maya and Jade sat nearby, whispering. Nervous.

A nurse arrived. Then a doctor. Then someone from “International Affairs.”

Questions.

So many questions.

“Can you tell us what happened to you?” “Were you alone?” “Do you remember being assaulted?” “Was anyone else there?” “Do you feel safe now?”

Y/N sat in a chair by the window, her arms wrapped around herself, a hospital blanket draped over her shoulders.

She didn’t answer.

Her gaze stayed fixed on the sunlight creeping up the far wall. Pale and cold. Nothing like the heat of the firelight where he’d whispered into her skin.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

No one noticed.

Except Maya.

She squeezed Y/N’s hand.

“It’s over,” she whispered. “You’re home now.”

But Y/N didn’t feel home.

She felt hollow.

And somewhere inside her…

He was still whispering.

Elsewhere – A City of Smoke and Steel

Vaeroth stood atop a rooftop overlooking the glass heart of the city, his human form cloaked in shadow.

He had tracked the scent across the sea.

Through wind and storm and steel towers.

He could taste her in the air. Faint. Distant.

But here.

“She’s close,” he murmured.

His second, cloaked in mortal clothes, nodded from the alley below.

“They took her to a hospital. A clinic for trauma recovery.”

Vaeroth’s jaw clenched.

She had needed recovery.

And he hadn’t been there.

He looked toward the east, toward the sunlight reflecting off cold glass.

“I will find her,” he whispered. “And this time, nothing will take her from me.”

The fluorescent lights above Y/N buzzed faintly as the nurse pressed gauze to her shoulder.

The bite mark—his mark—had broken the skin deeper than anyone first noticed.

They’d cleaned it.

Stitched it.

Bandaged it like any other wound.

But no one could dress the hollow ache beneath it.

She didn’t flinch when they touched her.

She didn’t speak when they asked about the bruises on her hips, the fingerprints along her thighs.

Not when they asked about what happened in the woods.

Not when they gently asked if she remembered anything.

She just stared at the clock.

Its ticking felt slower than it should have.

A calm-looking woman in a blazer approached her afterward.

“We’re not going to pressure you, sweetheart,” she said gently, handing her a business card. “When you’re ready, we’ll be here. Trauma doesn’t move on anyone else’s timeline.”

Y/N took the card.

Didn’t look at it.

Didn’t look at her.

They gave her two prescriptions.

Painkillers.

Anti-anxiety medication.

A list of hotlines.

A pamphlet on “Reclaiming Yourself.”

And then they sent her home.

Just like that.

Outside – With Maya and Jade

“This is insane,” Jade hissed, arms crossed. “They’re just letting her leave?”

“She didn’t give them anything,” Maya muttered. “They can’t hold her. No evidence. No name. No charges.”

“She was kidnapped. She came back marked. She has burn scars—”

“I know!” Maya snapped. Her voice cracked. “You think I don’t know?”

They watched through the glass as Y/N shuffled toward them in borrowed clothes, hair down, hood up, eyes blank.

She didn’t even look real anymore.

Jade bit her lip. “Something’s wrong here. I mean, beyond trauma. I feel it.”

“I do too,” Maya whispered.

And above them, in the shifting gray clouds…

Wings passed.

No sound. No shadow.

But Y/N looked up.

Just once.

And the corner of her mouth trembled.

The car ride was quiet.

Y/N sat in the backseat, her head pressed against the window, watching the city blur by.

Maya drove. Jade sat twisted in her seat, glancing back every few seconds, whispering soft reassurances.

Y/N didn’t hear them.

Or maybe she did.

But all her body could register was the distance between her and the sea.

The further they drove, the more wrong her skin felt.

Like she was being pulled inside-out.

When they reached the apartment, she refused to get out.

“No,” she whispered, curling against the door. “I don’t want to go in.”

“Sweetheart, please…” Jade opened her door gently, crouching beside her. “You’re safe now. No one knows where you are.”

“You don’t understand,” Y/N whimpered, eyes wide and full of glassy terror. “He’ll come. He’ll find me.”

Her fingers dug into the seatbelt.

“Y/N…”

“I can’t… I can’t…”

And then she broke.

Collapsed into Jade’s arms, sobbing.

Maya came around the side and helped lift her, carry her in.

They fed her warm broth.

Held her until she stopped shaking.

Brushed her hair. Let her shower.

They dressed her in oversized clothes and tucked her into Jade’s bed, the windows shut tight and curtains drawn.

Jade whispered stories from their college dorm days.

Maya stayed awake, rubbing her back.

Eventually—

Y/N slept.

But something else woke.

Outside, the wind shifted.

The streetlight flickered.

In the shadows between buildings, where no eyes dared linger…

He watched.

Not in dragon form—not yet.

But close.

Too close.

Inside, Y/N stirred in her sleep.

Her fingers twitched.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

She didn’t hear his voice.

But she felt his presence.

Like smoke curling under the door.

Like breath on the back of her neck.

And when she rolled onto her side—

The faintest glint of gold sparked in the corner of the dark room.

Then vanished.

The apartment was quiet.

No music.

No chatter.

Just the faint clink of porcelain and the low hum of the refrigerator.

Y/N stood in the kitchen, sleeves too long, face washed pale. Her eyes were red-rimmed and unfocused as she poured coffee into a chipped mug. No cream. No sugar.

Her hands trembled.

Her hair stuck to her damp forehead.

And between her legs, she still felt warm.

Not pain. Not soreness. Warmth.

Like something had left a part of itself behind.

Her knees were weak.

Her chest hollow.

And she knew—without doubt—what had happened.

He had come.

She didn’t remember how.

She hadn’t screamed.

She hadn’t moved.

But he had been there.

His breath in her hair. His weight on her body. His voice—whispering worship while he claimed her again.

A tear rolled down her cheek and into her coffee.

She didn’t notice.

She didn’t drink.

She just stood there, holding the cup like an anchor in a world that had stopped pretending she was free.

Across the Apartment – Later That Morning

Jade rubbed her eyes and opened the apartment’s security app.

She checked the feed from the door camera—routine, barely awake.

And then froze.

There.

2:47 AM.

The camera had caught a figure.

Tall. Still. Barefoot.

He stood outside their door for seventeen minutes.

Not moving.

Then turned his head—slowly—and looked directly into the lens.

Gold eyes.

No glow from streetlights.

No reflection.

Just two molten, ancient lights staring through the screen.

Jade’s breath caught in her throat.

She grabbed Maya’s phone. “You need to see this.”

Jade stood at the edge of the kitchen, the phone still in her hand.

She couldn’t stop staring at the paused frame—the figure at their door, the impossible gold of his eyes glowing from the shadows.

She knew it was real.

And she knew Y/N knew, too.

But she didn’t want it to be true.

Y/N sat curled on the couch, knees hugged to her chest, coffee growing cold beside her. Her skin still felt hot beneath the oversized hoodie. The heat hadn’t faded.

If anything, it was worse.

Deep. Constant. Low in her belly.

Not arousal—something more primal.

Need.

She hated it.

She hated him.

But her body…

Her body remembered. Her body still wanted.

Maya sat beside her, cautious, quiet. “Y/N… did he come back last night?”

Silence.

Then—

“Yes.”

A whisper.

A breath.

Both girls froze.

Jade crossed the room slowly. “He was here?”

Y/N nodded once.

A tear rolled down her cheek.

“He was… inside me. I didn’t move.”

“Did he hurt you?” Maya asked, her voice breaking.

“No,” Y/N whispered. “That’s the worst part.”

They didn’t speak.

Not at first.

Because what do you say to someone who’s been broken and bound, but not physically harmed? Someone whose soul is screaming while her body still aches for the one who did it?

Jade crouched beside her.

“We’re going to stop him,” she said.

“You can’t.”

“We’ll try.”

Y/N looked down at her hands.

“He’s still inside me. I feel him. I feel… hot. Like I’m still in heat.”

Maya covered her mouth.

Jade reached for her hand. “Then we’ll cool you down. We’ll find help.”

But outside—

The clouds had begun to gather.

Far Away – In the Caverns of Flame

Vaeroth stood beneath the mountain, eyes closed, breath deep.

And he felt her speak.

Not her words.

Just the voice.

The sound of her breath shaping syllables again. The moment her silence broke, the bond tugged.

His heat flared.

She was still in cycle. Still open. Still his.

He opened his eyes.

“No more distance.”

He turned to Andre.

“Prepare the gate.”

“She returns tonight.”

The TV flickered across the dark living room—bright colors, a laugh track, a world that didn’t know her.

Y/N sat on the couch, legs pulled close, the blanket clutched around her. Her head throbbed. Her body still pulsed with that low, molten heat. The meds weren’t working.

Maya and Jade had just stepped out. Just for a moment. The corner store two blocks down. Snacks, water, a chance to breathe.

“We’ll lock the door behind us,” Jade had promised. “We’ll be back before the credits roll.”

But the door clicked open anyway.

Y/N’s breath hitched.

The blanket slid from her shoulders.

He stood in the entryway like a shadow taking form.

Vaeroth.

Human-shaped. Ageless. Eyes like gold flame. His long hair fell loose over his shoulders, soaked with rain. He wore black from neck to boots.

But it wasn’t the clothes.

It was the presence.

He filled the room without moving.

She stood slowly, shaking. “How—how did you—”

“You left me,” he said quietly.

“You ran.”

There was no growl. No roar. Just heat simmering behind each word.

She stepped back. “Please—”

“I was gentle with you. I gave you silk. Fire. I whispered to you like you were divine.”

“I didn’t ask for any of it!”

His eyes darkened.

“But you took it.”

He moved faster than she could track—suddenly in front of her, gripping her wrist.

“I gave you my mark,” he snarled. “I bled for you. And you let them hide you from me like I was a curse.”

She yanked her arm. “You are.”

And that was it.

The moment snapped.

His hand struck her across the cheek—fast, sharp, ringing.

She gasped, stumbling, one hand flying to her face.

Silence.

Breathless.

Y/N’s eyes welled, a sob caught in her throat as she held her stinging skin.

And then—

She looked at him.

Wide, broken, burning eyes.

And Vaeroth’s chest hitched.

The fire behind his fury faltered.

He stepped back, stunned by her gaze.

“I didn’t want to—”

She flinched again.

He reached for her—

And stopped.

“Y/N,” Vaeroth said softly, voice cracking.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

She backed away, still clutching her cheek. “You already did.”

He stepped forward, hands twitching at his sides, torn between restraint and the storm in his chest. His face was twisted with something unreadable—half remorse, half rage.

“You don’t understand,” he said. “I need you. You were made for me.”

She shook her head, tears spilling now. “No. No, I wasn’t. You took everything—I didn’t ask for any of it—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he snapped. “You felt it. You still do.”

He reached for her.

She twisted away.

“Don’t touch me!”

But he did.

His hand seized her wrist, pulling her into his chest. His mouth found hers, crushing. Too hard. Too rough. His other hand cupped her jaw, holding her there as she squirmed, her fists pushing at his chest, her whimpers muffled by his kiss.

“Stop!” she sobbed, finally breaking away.

He panted, staring at her, his eyes wild.

Then she shoved him—hard.

He stumbled.

She turned to run.

But her ankle caught on the edge of the rug—her body tumbled, hitting the floor hard.

Before she could crawl away, his hands were on her again—gripping her hips, lifting her like a doll, her kicks useless against his strength.

“Let me go—let me GO!”

“I’m taking you home.”

He dragged her toward the window—then changed course, toward the fire escape.

“The roof,” he muttered to himself. “I just need the sky. Just need to shift—”

She screamed.

Fought.

But he was no longer hearing her.

His breath came fast. His muscles trembled.

The veins beneath his skin glowed faintly gold.

He wasn’t human anymore.

“You’re mine,” he growled. “And I’m done asking.”

The wind howled across the rooftop.

Rain had started to fall—cold and sudden, slicing through the sky like the edge of a blade.

Y/N kicked and thrashed in Vaeroth’s arms, her voice hoarse from screaming. He held her like she was nothing—like she weighed less than the storm around them.

“Let me go!” she cried, tears hot on her cheeks. “Please, don’t do this!”

He was shaking—not from effort, but from the transformation trying to burst through his skin.

His eyes were gold.

His fingertips were clawed.

His voice wasn’t fully human anymore.

“I warned you,” he said. “I begged. I kissed you like you were sacred. You spat on it.”

“You HURT me!”

He didn’t flinch. He just looked down at her, his face twisted with rage and something more tragic—like he couldn’t understand why she didn’t see it.

Why she couldn’t just accept it.

Behind them—

“Y/N!”

A voice.

Jade.

Then Maya.

They burst onto the rooftop, soaked from the rain, eyes wide as they saw her—held in arms that shimmered with dragonhide, gold glowing faintly beneath skin.

“Let her go!” Maya screamed, running forward.

Vaeroth turned, his voice deep as thunder. “She’s mine.”

Jade reached for her—but he was already moving.

Wings unfurled from his back, massive, leathery, trailing gold light at the edges. The wind from them sent both girls tumbling back.

Y/N reached for them.

“Help me—please!”

Maya screamed her name.

Jade lunged.

But it was too late.

With a sound like the sky splitting, Vaeroth lifted into the air, Y/N pinned to his chest, her scream tearing through the wind—

“HELP MEEEE—”

And then they were gone.

Swallowed by cloud.

Lightning flashed behind them.

And the only thing left was silence.

[thyfleshc0nsumed]

I was 19, wearing the only flattering dress I had. It was all black, a rough but not scratchy fabric, flared at the waist. The bust looked pretty good on me. I bought it from a used clothes store about two months after I started publicly crossdressing when I was 16. At 17, I wore it to my grandfather’s funeral, and seven months later to my friend Liam’s funeral. That night was a different sort of occasion.

Around 11:30 I parked my car at a Comfort Inn just off the highway, about 25 minutes from my suburban apartment and sat for a few moments, finishing my cigarette, putting it out on the side of my car. I always took a moment after parking to sit with myself before going to meet someone. I was nervous, not fearful, though maybe a smarter person would have been, just as a measure of caution.

It wasn’t my first time werking, but I was still pretty green, I had only been in the real-deal-pay-to-play game for a couple months, mostly doing blow and gos before that. Full service felt like hot girl shit, it was different from the eyes-closed blowjobs I had been giving since I was 15. I was still a sexual commodity, but a sexual commodity they were willing to get a motel room for and drop more than $20 on, so I actually bothered to play dress up--and shower--for it.

I walked into the building, passed the reception desk, not paying them any mind, knowing they’d see me leave in about an hour and know exactly what I was there to do. After a trek through a few dimly lit hallways, I found the room he told me he was in and I knocked. The knocking on the door is always the scariest moment of a smooth and safe job. I always envision some vacationing mother coming to the door, distraught at having to see a fat tgirl dressed up like a whore and telling me “No, we didn’t order a prostitute, you should try 1106, this is 1160.”

Luckily, for both me and this imagined middle aged woman, I got the right room. The john opened up the door and let me in. I saw the money already laid out onto the table, quickly counted it, and put it into my purse, which I set down. He sauntered over and wrapped his arms around me. He was a head and a half taller than I was and wasted no time in getting physical. After only a couple of minutes, I was laying on my back on the bed, the john kissing my legs, up to my crotch. This was a “I want to do whatever makes you feel good” john, which are actually much harder to work for than the “shut up and suck my dick, faggot” johns. I can suck a dick, but I can’t really act, though I ended up seeing this man a couple more times over the next year, so either I can act well enough or I just have a monopoly on fat non-passing tranny prostitutes in the west suburbs of Chicago.

There’s a certain way this kind of john carries himself while having sex: he moves as if trying to be seductive and sexy, as if to pretend he won me with wit and attractiveness rather than the promise of a small wad of twenties. This sort of john’s ultimate fantasy is to have sexually pleased someone–anyone!--else, a thing they are so unable to do that they have to pay a teenager to pretend that they give great head. This john did these soft, light touches, that I had to fight very hard against bursting into laughter from. The only way I can describe the head he gave is that noise that Anthony Hopkins makes in Silence of the Lambs. after he says “I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.” Fththththth.

About fifteen minutes into his lease on my body, he pulled away from me and said, “Hey baby, would you mind if I did a line off you?”

I sincerely thought about it for a moment, as it was clear he was genuinely asking. I wanted the anecdote and said yes.

He walked over to his jacket and grabbed a smallish baggie of coke and came back over to the bed, He grabbed a pinch, deposited it in a line on my left breast, and made another attempt at that seductive movement, his head bobbing and swaying for a few moments before he swooped down like a plane finally landing after circling the runway, opening his mouth as he did, and licking the line up with his tongue.

Had I not been being paid for my composure, I would have burst into laughter, the man might as well have just rubbed lidocaine on his gums. Yet again, a straight face was kept, and we got back to business.

Ten to fifteen minutes after his first line, I was laying on my stomach and he was kissing my ass and legs. Again, he asked me if he could do another line, and again, I said yes.

It is my genuinely held belief that should I, in the state of health I find myself in, ever do cocaine my heart will explode and my eyeballs will pop out of my head and dangle as in cartoons. However, simply through being a rational, reasonable human being, if I were to make the decision to both do coke, and do it off of someone’s ass, I would have a clear path on how I would accomplish that task–snort a horizontally placed line off of a cheek. My very own Mr. Lecter, however, is an outside the box thinker.

I felt a hand spread my asscheeks apart. He let out an excited sigh. His tongue landed between my cheeks, a full inch behind my asshole. It drew a line up, passed my tailbone, and into the Fat Bitch Mini Crack. After the briefest layover, his tongue took flight once more, seats now filled with coke and ass lint.

[oldiesstationlover11607]

your fics are so lovely🥹thank you so much for writing them!! i’d love to request to please write a gerard way x reader where gerard and the reader were childhood best friends, really inseparable and also in love, but the reader unexpectedly moves away in the middle of senior year of high school and doesn’t even get to tell gerard about it so they just kinda disappear, but they do end up getting to go to their dream college and studying what they love so it all turns out okay but not a day goes by where they don’t miss gerard, then randomly a few years later the reader becomes friends with ray and after a few months of being friends, ray introduces them to mcr and so they reunite with gerard and it’s like no time at all has passed by but it’s sooo heartfelt, they pick up right where they left off and have deep conversations and catch up and feelings are confessed and just total sweetness all around. it’s okay if you don’t feel inspired by this though like i totally get if you don’t do this :) happy holidays!! xx

Missed You - Gerard Way x Reader

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 1222

A/N: Before xmas (in my country) we're gifting y'all some fics

The minute I walked into Ray’s apartment and heard that laugh, the one I’d replayed in my head a thousand times over the years, my heart stopped. Time hadn’t dulled its warmth or the way it made my chest ache with bittersweet familiarity. For a moment, I thought I was dreaming—a cruel trick of my mind, weaving together my two worlds. But when I turned the corner and saw him, it was unmistakably, Gee. 

He looked different, of course. Older. His hair was darker than I remembered, cropped shorter but still messy, exactly how I imagined it to be. He wore a leather jacket over a graphic tee, his fingers wrapped around a can of Dr Pepper. But his eyes were the same, their hazel depths glittering with emotion as they landed on me.

“Y/N?” His voice cracked a little, just like it used to when he got nervous. “Oh my God.”

I froze, all the years apart and the hundreds of imaginary reunions rushing to my head. None of those fantasies had prepared me for this moment. For him.

“Hey,” I finally managed, my voice soft and trembling. “It’s been a while.”

Ray was beaming between us like some kind of benevolent god of serendipity. “Wait,” he said, looking back and forth between us. “You two know each other?”

“Yeah,” Gerard said, his gaze never leaving mine. “We go way back.”

We did. Back to the days of scraped knees and shared comic books, stolen cigarettes behind the school gym, and endless nights spent sketching or talking about how the world didn’t understand us. Gerard had been my best friend, my constant, my first love. And then I’d disappeared.

It wasn’t my choice, of course. My parents had sprung the move on me out of nowhere, claiming it was for Dad’s job and “a better opportunity.” I’d begged, screamed, pleaded to stay, but they’d been immovable. One night I went to bed thinking I had months left of senior year; the next morning, I was on a plane halfway across the country, leaving everything behind—including him.

I never got to say goodbye. The memory of his face when I vanished from his life haunted me, his confusion and hurt left unanswered.

For years, I’d carried the weight of that unfinished chapter. Even as I threw myself into college and my dream major, even as I made new friends and built a new life, there was always a Gerard-shaped hole in my heart. I’d tried to look him up once or twice, but what little I found only made the ache worse. He was doing his thing, thriving in some art scene or another, and I convinced myself it was better to stay out of his life. He deserved that.

And yet, here we were.

Ray cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’ll just…uh…leave you guys to catch up. Drinks are in the kitchen.” He scurried off, clearly amused by the tension crackling between us.

Gee set his drink down on a nearby table and took a hesitant step toward me. “You’re really here, huh?”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Yep.”

For a moment, neither of us moved. Then, before I could process it, Gerard was pulling me into a tight hug. I melted into him, the years dissolving in an instant. He smelled like cigarettes and something faintly sweet, and his arms felt like home. Tears stung my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he murmured into my hair.

“Me neither,” I whispered back.

When he finally let go, there was a vulnerability in his expression I hadn’t seen since we were teenagers. “What happened to you? You just disappeared. I didn’t know if I’d done something wrong, or if…”

“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “It wasn’t you. It was never you. My parents moved us overnight, practically. I didn’t have time to tell anyone. I tried writing you letters, but I never sent them. I didn’t know what to say.”

His brows knitted together, the hurt still raw even after all these years. “I missed you,” he said simply.

“I missed you too.”

We stood there, tangled in the past, until the buzz of conversation and music around us brought us back to the present. Gerard gestured toward a quieter corner of the room. “Do you want to catch up? Talk somewhere less–” Frank was sitting on the couch chugging a beer, “–chaotic?”

“I’d love that,” I said.

We found a spot on the apartment’s tiny balcony, the cool night air a welcome relief. Gerard leaned against the railing, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, while I perched on a low chair.

“So,” he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “What’ve you been up to? Where’d you go?”

I told him everything. About the move, the initial loneliness, and how I’d eventually thrown myself into college. I’d studied literature and creative writing, the dream we’d always talked about, and now I was freelancing for a few publications while working on a novel. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was mine.

“That’s amazing,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “You always said you’d do it. I’m so proud of you, Y/N.”

“Thanks,” I said, my cheeks flushing. “What about you? I heard a bit about your band through Ray, but he didn’t tell me much.”

Gerard chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, we’ve been at it for a while now. It’s…a lot, honestly. Touring, recording, everything. But I love it. It feels like what I’m meant to do.”

“I’m happy for you,” I said, and I meant it.

We spent hours talking, filling in the gaps time had left between us. He told me about the band’s beginnings, the ups and downs of life on the road, and the music that had saved him. I told him about the friends I’d made, the cities I’d explored, and the stories I wanted to tell. It was like no time had passed at all, and yet we were both so different. Grown up.

At some point, the conversation turned quieter, more introspective. Gerard’s gaze softened as he looked at me. “I never stopped wondering about you, you know. Where you were, if you were okay. If you…thought about me.”

My chest tightened. “Every day,” I admitted. “You were my best friend. And more than that, you were…”

“Everything?” he finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded, tears threatening to spill. “Yeah.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing mine. “You still are. I never stopped caring about you, Y/N. Not for a second.”

The weight of his words settled over me, warm and steady. I leaned into his touch, the years of separation dissolving in the shared truth between us.

“I’m here now,” I said, my voice firm. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Gerard’s smile was soft but radiant, like the sunrise after a long, dark night. “Good.”

As the night wore on and the city lights glittered around us, we stayed there, tangled in words and unspoken promises. The years had taken so much from us, but they couldn’t take this—the connection we’d always shared, the love that had never faded. And for the first time in forever, I felt whole again.

//

REQUESTS OPEN

[velvet4510]

People seem to think that when Erik tells Charles on the plane that “Raven was … we were … I could see why she meant so much to you”, it’s somehow an implication that Erik and Raven were sleeping together.

But I don’t.

Why would he say “I could see why she meant so much to you” to her brother if they’d been sleeping together? If Charles was Raven’s ex, then it would’ve made sense, but no, Charles is Raven’s brother - and thus sleeping with her would never enable Erik to “see why” Charles cared for her.

Also, if you go along with the headcanon that Charles and Erik were sleeping together during First Class, it makes even less sense to assume that’s what Erik is insinuating - “I know we used to sleep together and now I get why you love your sister because I slept with her too!” Huh???

So yeah, that is very obviously not what Erik is trying to imply here.

So what is Erik actually implying?

Well, let’s consider what he’s responding to. Charles just asked “how was she?” He’s inquiring about Raven’s wellbeing back in November 1963, thirteen months after the Cuba incident, when Erik last saw her before he left for Dallas. Erik’s first response to that question was that she was “strong, driven, loyal,” essentially explaining Raven’s personality, traits that Charles already knew about. Charles’ emphasis on “was” when he repeats the question makes it undoubtedly clear that he wants to know if Raven was all right, physically and emotionally. Erik understands Charles better than anyone; he definitely gets what Charles wants to know.

But … all Erik can say is “she was…” before he trails off. He is hesitant to tell Charles about Raven’s wellbeing at the time. As if he knows Charles wouldn’t like the answer.

He then tweaks it to “We were…” The shift from “she” to “we” means he’s about to share both of their emotional wellbeings at the time. Why would he include his own? Because they were feeling/going through the same thing.

I think they both were still, even a year later, quite haunted by what happened on the beach and thinking about Charles - they must’ve found out that he was crippled. Either Emma discovered it with her telepathy or Raven discovered it by sneaking into the hospital in disguise.

So while Charles might’ve misunderstood and thought Erik was insinuating he was involved with Raven, in truth Erik just didn’t know how to say that he and Raven were NOT ok because they missed Charles so much and were mortified that he’d been so badly hurt and probably assumed that he hated them which is why they didn’t dare try to face him again before JFK.

Erik saw how much Raven still cared about her brother, and about all the Brotherhood and all the mutants they were helping. He witnessed her best and worst qualities, and so he came to see what Charles saw in her; hence his comment. He could see why her brother loved her so much, because he also developed a brotherly affection for her.

Also later on in the phone booth, Erik’s comment to Raven “it’s been a long time since we were this close” sounds like a romantic statement by itself, but when you put it in context, it’s really not. Erik has been in solitary confinement for 10 years and still adjusting to finally being free again. So it’s been a long time since he was physically close to ANYONE, let alone Raven, and it’s still so jarring that he can’t help but comment. Plus he knows she’s mad at him for trying to kill her so he says something tender in an honestly pathetic attempt to let her know he doesn’t actually hate her or want her dead. When she understandably isn’t having it, he cuts the crap and tells her the truth about the Sentinels. It’s really one of the most unromantic scenes in the series.