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chaos-in-deepspace · 5 months ago

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L&DS Rafayel: Crab Wars | Drabble - Comedy

Ahahahaha so this is a comedic post. I feel like every day life with Rafayel would have these moments of just "Bro wtf are you doing?" and this encapsulated it perfectly.

Pairing: Rafayel x Reader Warning: None Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Rafayel

There were so many things you had come to accept when it came to Rafayel. He was eccentric and tended to just do whatever he felt like. So, how did he still manage to get you at a loss for words? Absolutely stunned as you stared at the situation right in front of your eyes,

He had invited you over for dinner, and this is what you came to? You looked at your beloved boyfriend standing in the middle of his kitchen. Around him were five living crabs. Their claws were up and snapping as he stood in the center of a circle. He looked at you, then back at the crab directly before him.

"Okay, what the ever-loving fuck is happening, Raf?" You finally managed to say. You pinched the bridge of your nose and crossed your arms over your chest. You honestly didn't know what to do with this man anymore.

Rafayel seemed almost sheepish, but he had gained control of his emotions and schooled them to appear nonchalant about the ordeal. "Well, I wanted to let them walk around a bit before I cooked then," he said, already a bad start to this story. And then they just surrounded me…I think they assume I'm their king."

You gave him the most deadpan stare you could muster, smacking your lips together, "Okay…so why are their claws unhooked?" you asked next. You knew damn well at the seafood market; they had tied the crab's claws so they didn't get any funny ideas before they died.

"It felt too constricting for them," Rafayel said, "And as their leader, I needed to do what was right by my people,"

"Are you sure they chose you as their king?" you finally asked, "It looks more like you're going to be sacrificed," Rafayel's eyes widened. He placed a hand over his heart and gave you the most offended look he could muster.

"They would never," he gasped, now pouting with his lip jutting out. You looked down at the crabs and then back at him. Why were you even having this conversation in the first place? This was…was it too late to call a pizza place?

"Can you just…put them back in the pot and cook them, Raf?" you huffed. Rafayel looked away from you as he cleared his throat.

"So that's the issue," he said, "I don't wanna grab them. I tried before you arrived, and one snapped at me, and I don't know what to do now," oh so he was being held hostage by a bunch of crabs that should've been their damn dinner. "Can you help me out?" he said, doing his best puppy dog eyes for you.

You blinked slowly before sighing. You reach down to your thigh holster and pull out your gun, taking aim at the one directly in front of where Rafayel is standing. Before you could pull the trigger, you heard Rafayel screaming at you to stop, calling your name multiple times in a panic.

"Can you not?!" he shouted again, "You can't shoot them!" he said and looked at you like you were the crazy one here.

"It would solve the issue, wouldn't it?" You asked, "You were the one begging me for assistance, I came up with a solution, and now you're backing down," you huffed in annoyance, "Such beta bitch behavior,"

Rafayel was stunned to silence, but that only stopped him for a moment, "Did you call me a beta bitch?" he finally muttered, and you smirked.

"Uh ya? Now we either do this my way, or I'm going to chill in the living room and order pizza while you figure…" you motioned towards the floor, "This out."

"Call Thomas?" he finally asked, and you thought for a moment…why hadn't you considered doing that. You pulled out your phone and dialed the man's number, letting it ring a few times before he finally picked up.

You heard him calling your name in a confused tone: "Hey, is there anything I can help you with?" He was always the professional one, it would seem.

"Thomas, we need help at the studio ASAP." you began, "And yes, this is an actual emergency this time," you didn't even let him reply as you got your phone and took a photo of the situation. "I'm sending over the situation,"

Thomas was silent as he checked out the image, and then suddenly, you heard a loud sigh and a click as he hung up. You paused and looked at the phone, then back over to Rafayel, "Well…looks like you're on your own, bye babes," you turned around and began your journey toward the living room.

You heard Rafayel shouting your name a few times, trying to get you to come back. He could figure it out. He got himself into this mess, and he can get himself out. You, however, would not be risking getting pinched by a crab today.

Imma be frfr I ain't touching live crabs. No freaking way. I am baby.

#loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace #Rafayel Love and Deepspace #Lnds #Lnds Rafayel #lnds x reader #x reader #reader insert #rafayel x reader #l&ds #l&ds rafayel #l&ds rafayel x reader #lads x reader #lads rafayel #lads rafayel x reader

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onthewaytosomewhere · 7 days ago

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✨ 16th: Favourites from the past year (another post where i get to go on and on about people who have written things i luv) (in no particular order cuz i could not start to try to do that)

one of my fave fics of the year and one i was so happy to get to see before everyone else is my dear Nico's @priincebutt Some Part of Me Came Alive that was written for the RWRB RBB - if you have not checked this out yet - RUN, DON'T WALK!!! it's so beautifully written you will fall in luv with it too

Leeks @softboynick's it's all in my head (i fuck up again and again) was another fic i was so honored to get to see early and y'all definitely need to check it out! this was a wonderful addition to the RWRB RBB

while we're on the RBB fics - another fic i have luv'd with my whole damn heart this year is Meet Me on the Other Side by @sparklepocalypse Mags wrote the very best horny cowboys period fic and i luv it so damn much!! - if somehow you haven't yet go check it out and fall in luv with it too - now i'm gonna throw links here for two more of Mags fics that i cannot get enough of from this year while we're at it Single Sad-Sack Seeking Same & All the Ocean was Sleeping - go read them!!!

now i'm moving onto a fic that has OC's that stole my frakkin heart and was an utter joy to follow along with this year - Sara @cha-melodius wrote an amazing you've got mail au False Dichotomy - it really is so good - and Sara's Body and Soul(mate) is a great spy soulmate fic that has bodyswapping and so many other great things

so next i got a couple of my faves from MJ kiwiana that when he wrote them they just frakkin spoke to me Like loving the stars themselves - DR Who AU - yes plz - and MJ knocks this one outta the park - so you want a Santa Clarita Diet AU MJ also has ya covered there and it's so damn good!!! - Never want to live (or die) without you now the last one i'm including here is taking the "this year" a lil bit loosely cuz he technically finished it end of last year - but i have definitely read it again this year i'm certain of it - A Practical Arrangement - one of the best arranged marriage fics !!!

@tinyarmedtrex's The only Heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm alone with you Priest!Henry verse which includes An Exquisite Temptation & A Beautiful Reality is so damn good you need to go read it

@xthelastknownsurvivorx's Every Time My Heart Swings Back to You is a great fic that combines college au and reincarnation and was very easily one of my fave fics of the first part of the year

Grace @eusuntgratie's already over was one of those fics that even tho I wasn't reading a lot of fic at the time it came out i had to read it and you should to if ya want a lil alex/raf fic - and who doesn't lolz while ur checking out Grace's fics if ya want a lil firstprince one after hours (mechanic!Alex) is so good and you won't be sorry you read it

okay you also need to check out @cricketnationrise's Yes, it's an emergency! & and now i'm back / from outer space - two very great the martian firstprince AUs

from very early in the year there is @everwitch-magiks Room For Rent (Sex Dungeon Not Included) a roommates fic that is so wonderful and deserves a read

Taylor @tailsbeth-writes has a wondeful Bi² Alex series where Alex explores gender identity that is worth you taking a read (with a co-write from Elle @run-for-chamo-miles on the 3rd fic)

the lovely M @thighzp wrote a wonderful raf/alex omegaverse fic that is so good heat of the moment & while ur there they have so many wonderful fics but i'm gonna tell ya to give put my mind at ease a read as well

@dumbpeachjuice wrote the very best college student alex who really wants to bone his professor henry in you know i can't be found with you

@meraki-yao wrote the tangled au everyone should read All At Once Everything Looks Different (Now That I See You) - you will not regret checking it out!

Stephanie @caterpills wrote this wonderful publicist Alex and author Henry fic that you should really check out if ya haven't This Is More of a Comment Than a Question - it broke my heart so many times and then mended it so perfectly

@smc-27 wrote this amazing age gap that if you have not checked out you really should - take it and have it all - and so many other wonderful fics as well of course

and i'm gonna wrap this up with something current

Charlotte @captainjunglegym wrote this amazing fic just this month about Alex getting railed by Henry while he fucks his pocket pussy and it's so damn delicious! The Image of Your Face Comes To Me (When I'm Alone in the Dark)

there are so many i'm forgetting but I've rambled way too long already so we're wrapping this up ... finally lolz

#rwrbfff #red white and royal blue #rwrb fic #rwrb #rwrb fic recs #i rambled so much here that no one is gonna read it #but plz at least follow some of the links #fics i luv dearly #there are so many more i could have added to this

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skelswritingcorner · 9 months ago

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Explaining an Organic Phenomena (TFP fic)

I bring forth ANOTHER reader character/Buddy who has endometriosis! This is closer to my own experiences with my still undiagnosed condition, though. I use Buddy in this story, but that's because I still need to finalize this Buddy's name.

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: Mentioned self harm, mentions of hospital visits, menstrual pain

Story below the cut!

You didn’t expect to end up being involved with an alien’s war, let alone that three of your classmates already knew about them, but you got involved anyway. While you rarely interact with them, preferring to hole yourself up in a small corner to work on assignments, they often pull you into shenanigans anyway. Especially Miko.

The Autobots, as they call themselves, don’t know much about you other than what Jack told them. And he doesn’t know much about you. Most he knows is that at least once a month you end up leaving class early, because it’s the class you have with him that you usually end up leaving for the day, and for the following three days you’re miserable. Jack doesn’t know why either, and you plan on keeping it that way. The only people who get to know about your endometriosis are your family and your doctors.

Well, you at least try. You’ve known them for about two months now, none of them raised an eye at the once-a-monthly absence. Yet. It’s either going to be Ratchet, Optimus, or Smokescreen who will voice any concerns if this happens long enough. Smokescreen, as he’s your Autobot companion assigned to you by Optimus Prime, and Ratchet as he’s a medic.

This is the second period you’ve had since you unwillingly joined them (you blame Miko for this, but also Jack since he’s your neighbor). It was your usual routine during the first day of your period: try to ignore the pain long enough in school, eventually go to the nurse after the pain gets too much for you to focus, then end up being picked up by your mom and brought home.

It was in your class with Miko when you ended up being picked up by your mom. You wrote down something on an index card, giving it to her as you left. She knew what was going on, Miko was the only person outside your immediate family who knew about your condition from you. As you shuffled through to the main entrance, you did see Jack, but ignored him. He was turned away anyway, and you weren’t in the mood to get his attention.

“Where is Buddy? I thought she usually comes with all of you.” Optimus asked. Miko scratched the back of her head before grabbing an index card and showing it to him.

His optics scanned the writing, “I have to leave early, my cramps are getting too much. Tell everyone not to worry about me (especially Ratchet and Smokescreen), I should be there tomorrow.” he read out loud.

“Oh, on the contrary!” Ratchet rebutted, “This happened last month too! And Jack said this happens every single month! Clearly, something’s wrong if this has been happening for years.”

“Well, the only way to confirm if anything’s wrong is to visit her. None of us know where she lives, though.” Raf stated.

“Actually,” Jack countered, “Buddy’s house is right next to mine. Our moms know each other quite well. I don’t think she wants visitors, though. Last time I visited while she was experiencing this she threw something at me, and it hurt.”

Smokescreen entered the room, tilting his head at the lack of his human companion. “Where’s Buddy? I thought she was going to be here.”

“Not here right now,” Miko replied, “she left school early too, needed her mom to pick her up. Girl stuff. I don’t have permission to tell you.”

Smokescreen tilted his head, then turned to Arcee. “Do you know what Miko’s talking about?”

“No, I do not.”

“Then I’m going to find her.” Smokescreen started to walk away, but was stopped by Optimus.

“Smokescreen,” Optimus explained, “I know that you’re concerned for Buddy. However, as Jack is her neighbor, it would draw less suspicion from the Decepticons if he goes to visit her. Jack, do you have Buddy’s contact information?”

“Even better,” Jack pulled out his phone, “I have her mom’s number. Well, I do have Buddy’s number too, but I don’t think she’s going to answer.”

“Excellent. Arcee, go with Jack. Smokescreen, please remain on base, but maintain communications with Arcee.” Optimus ordered. Arcee nodded, and Jack went to grab some of his things before leaving with Arcee.

“Actually, Jackie made a mass displacement machine in case we need to go somewhere that requires someone small.” Bulkhead said, “Arcee might be our smallest member aside from the humans, but I don’t think she can fit through the door of the garage.”

“Absolutely NOT! I believe that would be dangerous. Has Wheeljack even tested it?!” Ratchet turned to Bulkhead, gritting his teeth.

“I’m down to testing it.” Arcee walked to Bulkhead, “Do you know how to operate it?”

“Arcee!” Ratchet exclaimed, “If you really want to do this, I’m going to supervise this.”

♢♢♢

This was not a good day. The cramps were especially bad, so all you could do was writhe in pain on your bed, unable to get anything of substance done. Are the Autobots getting suspicious of this now? The Decepticons? Honestly, the thought of Knockout finding you in this state, hell, even Megatron, made shivers go down your spine. It’s a shame too, you wanted to work on that dress for your project. The one that transforms from a vague black silhouette to a bleeding crimson. Too bad that you’re in pain. Mom went out to do some errands, so she won’t be home for a while. And dad? He doesn’t tell you anything about his work, but you know that it has something to do with the alien robots. Why else would the Decepticons kidnap you the day you were released from the psych ward, before you could even cut off the hospital bracelet? Interrogating you about things you don’t know about?

Who’s texting you right now? Grabbing your phone, you checked to see who messaged you. It was Jack. Of course it would be him, he’s your neighbor! The message said something you wished you didn’t read: ‘Everyone’s worried about you, Arcee and I are coming to your house. Ratchet’s worried too. Don’t throw a textbook at me like last time.’

You wanted to punch Jack so hard right now. Also, it was not a textbook you threw, it was a book about the history of fashion. Get it right, Darby. Angrily typing on your phone, you sent out a message: ‘I’M FINE.’ You then put your phone on the nightstand, curling into the comfort of your blankets.

It should take Jack and Arcee half an hour to get to your house, if they’re coming from the Autobot base. Hopefully, you can just tell them not to worry and leave quickly. They shouldn’t worry about you. Well, June did warn them about your mental health not being the best given what happened over the summer, but the point stands. As long as you’re not alone with your thoughts for too long, you’ll be alright.

There’s a sound that you now know is the ground bridge, and another notification sounded on your phone. So they went the easy route. You grabbed your phone, seeing two dreaded words, ‘We’re here’. God dammit. A door opened, most likely the garage door.

It’s Jack’s voice that you first heard, “Buddy, where are you? Who am I kidding, you’re going to be in your room.” as he spoke, his voice got closer. “Coming in!” and he opened the door. Whoop-de-doo.

“Are you in there?” he asked. You popped your head out of your blanket pile, preparing a plushie to throw at him if he says anything stupid.

“Your room has a lot of… black.” Arcee said, peeking from the hallway. Honestly? She’s right. Nearly everything in your room is black and pastel purple.

Wait. How is she in your house? She’s three times Jack’s size, how did she get in through the door? Wait, she looks smaller than usual…

“Why is Arcee in here?” you asked, biting back a whimper.

“Oh. Wheeljack made some kind of mass displacement machine and needed someone to test it. Smokescreen tried to have himself test it to see you, but Optimus has him on base for now.”

Right. That totally makes sense. Not weird at all.

“He’s worried about you, you know? If it weren’t for Optimus telling him he couldn’t, Smokescreen would be speeding to get to you.”

That’s weird. You thought he hated you. Smokescreen was always belligerent and grumpy when with you, mostly because you insisted on being in control so he wouldn’t break the speed limit and possibly commit involuntary manslaughter. He despised your personality.

“I think he only does that because I was assigned his human partner. I doubt that he’s actually worried for me.” you grumbled, returning to your blanket burrito with the plushie ready to throw.

“Ratchet is also worried, you know? He is a doctor and a-”

You threw the plushie at Jack, full force. Arcee didn’t even try to catch it, leaning against the doorframe nonchalantly. Even when mass displaced, she’d have to crouch to get in.

“Hey! What was that for?” Jack caught the plushie in his hands.

“Well,” Arcee laughed, “Buddy’s up now.”

She’s being sarcastic. You’re still laying on your side, dammit!

Arcee walked into the room, speaking after she knelt in front of you, “Anyway, are you alright? I’m pretty sure Ratchet wants an explanation as to what’s going on, since this is the second time since you’ve joined us that this happened.”

Ough. Eugh. This is going to be difficult. How do you explain menstruation to a robot? They don’t have those parts, at least you think. “Uh,” you winced, not out of pain but out of awkwardness, “It’s very complicated and requires a lesson in human anatomy. June would probably explain it better than I can right now.”

“She’s at work right now, though.” Jack countered. Oh. Right. Hospital stuff.

“...I’ll grab my drawing pad. Just give me a moment to draw some stuff to help explain it.” you got out of your very comfortable blankets, going to your desk to grab your drawing pad, a pen, and a few markers. After finding a blank page, you got to work drawing a basic diagram.

Once you finished drawing, you turned the drawing pad to the two visitors. You pointed the pen to the first drawing; a very badly drawn uterus with a face, “This,” you tapped the drawing, “is the uterus. To the sides are the ovaries, which is where microscopic eggs are held. Every month, usually one egg is released. Before this, a lining grows inside the uterus to prepare for a human baby.”

“An… egg?” Arcee tilted her head.

“Not like the ones you see at the store, those are specifically evolved to grow a baby outside of the mother. These have no shell.”

You shifted your impromptu pointer. If you had your finger ring on, you would be using that to point, “The egg, however, needs to be fertilized in order for a baby to form. This is usually done through… certain acts of pleasure. However, there are treatments in case you can’t get pregnant that way.”

Jack nodded, nonverbally imploring you to continue.

“But this isn’t about how babies are made or grown, this is specifically about what happens when you don’t get pregnant.” You moved the pen to point to another crudely drawn uterus, now with an angry expression and blood coming out from the bottom. “When you don’t get pregnant, then the lining sheds, basically it’s like bleeding. You can’t hold it in, it’s gonna flow whether you want it to or not. This takes several days, and usually causes mild discomfort. This usually starts when reaching teenage years, but I was eleven years old when I first got mine.”

“Wait, you were eleven when that happened?!” Jack’s eyes widened. You just rolled your eyes to continue.

“Sometimes, though, the lining can grow on the outside of the uterus, and end up on other parts of the body,” you tapped the pen on another sketch, with a mess of lines representing the intestines with blobs of red on them, “most often the highest it goes is the intestines, but it can go all the way to the brain. This is called endometriosis, and it causes incredibly painful cramps. I had this confirmed over the summer, after that incident.” you chuckled, “Didn’t even have the chance to get lunch after being discharged before the Decepticons took me.”

“I’m… sorry.” Arcee frowned.

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” you replied.

“It’s not an apology, Buddy, it’s a show of sympathy. I can’t imagine how that feels.” Right. People say sorry sometimes to show sympathy. Something you never got the grasp of. Saying sorry is meant for apologies, is it not?

“Well, I did stab myself to distract from the pain my cramps caused.” you laughed.

Why are Jack and Arcee staring at you like that? They look like they saw a flayed corpse.

Oh. Right. They weren’t told why you were in the hospital. At least June is complying with HIPAA.

“That’s why you were in the hospital?! You stabbed yourself?!” Jack went closer to you, still shocked.

“In two places. And no, I’m not showing the scars. They still look nasty.” It is true though, the stitches might be gone but the scars are still healing. Besides, one of those scars is on your stomach. You’re not showing that to anyone except for medical professionals, or someone you trust enough. The only person that applies is mom.

“Well, at least we now know what’s going on. Is it alright if we tell the others?” Arcee asked.

“Go ahead. Miko already knows, by the way. She even taught me how to pronounce it in Japanese. While there is an actual Japanese word, they just use the loan word.” you answered, “Also, be careful when telling Raf. He’s the youngest of us, I’m sure he’ll be full of questions. I… don’t want him trying to learn more than he should at his age.”

You’ve always felt protective of Rafael. Maybe it’s because deep down you always wanted to feel like a big sister to someone. Another part of you thinks you’re trying to subconsciously manipulate him into your father’s cause. Regardless of why that is, the moment you ended up in cahoots with the Autobots you’ve taken up the role of an older sibling to him. You did your best to not be overbearing or authoritarian, but you tried to help explain certain things to him. He might be a genius, but he’s still the age of a middle schooler. As long as he doesn’t end up behaving like Jack or Miko, he should be okay.

“I assume that you want to stay here, and not go to base.” Jack scratched the back of his head.

You nodded, “I’ll see if I can go tomorrow, depending on how I feel. See y’all tomorrow. Also, don’t tell anyone else the fact that I stabbed myself being why I was in the hospital.”

“I promise. See you tomorrow, Buddy.” Arcee waved, and the both of them left.

After the ground bridge noise was made, you put the drawing stuff away and returned to your blanket burrito after taking some painkillers. Talking with both of them distracted you from the cramps for a good while, surprisingly enough. That’s an achievement.

♢♢♢

“Are you saying that this is caused by a regular human bodily function going wrong?!” Ratchet clenched his hands, eyes wide and jaw slack.

“As far as Buddy said, yes.” Arcee confirmed.

“Yikes,” Miko winced, “I thought my cramps were annoying at best. I can’t imagine what level of cramps she experiences every month.”

“That’s why Buddy’s not here right now?” Smokescreen asked Arcee, who nodded.

Smokescreen sulked in a corner, “Why didn’t she tell me? I’m her partner! And she never said anything about this to me!”

“Buddy might have decided not to tell you since it might make you worry. That, and it’s hard to find a comparison for a Cybertronian lifeform for what she experiences. Even I struggle to wrap my head around it.” Optimus said.

“This could be disastrous.” Arcee replied, “Combined with who her father likely is, we might need to keep a close eye on Buddy. Even more than before. Ratchet, have you ever scanned her?”

Ratchet nodded, “Back when we first found her, yes. Is there something you want me to check?”

Jack piped up, “She said she has two scars, they’re very recent. Did those come up on your scans?”

After some typing, a figure that looked like Buddy showed up on the screen. Two points of trauma, one on her right lower arm’s interior, and one on her midsection. Ratchet nodded, “I was wondering what those were. How did that happen?”

“Not allowed to tell you,” Jack said, “it’s a bit… personal to her. It’s probably best if she tells you herself. I’m not breaking her trust.”

“It’s that bad, huh?” Ratchet sighed, “Very well. I’ll ask Buddy when she’s no longer in pain.”

“Hopefully she’ll be okay tomorrow. She might not feel comfortable coming to base tomorrow. Besides,” Miko cradled her cheeks in her fists while leaning against the railing, “she told me that she’s working on that dress! You know, the one she’s making that has a lot of red… for her sewing class?” The looks of confusion from the others proved that they had no idea what Miko was talking about.

“Nevermind.” Miko grumbled, walking to the couch and sitting next to Rafael. Next time Buddy goes on base, she’s gonna have so much to explain.

#transformers x reader #transformers x platonic reader #menstruation cw #endometriosis cw #self harm tw #tfp optimus prime #tfp ratchet #tfp arcee #tfp smokescreen #tfp bulkhead #mentioned tfp wheeljack #jack darby #miko nakadai #rafael esquivel #mentioned june darby

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hx4x4enthusiast · 2 years ago

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Two sparks and a drumming heart

Part 1 (3233 words)

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/jorico/721903257373605888/chapter-2-1560-words-warmth-covered-my-sore-body?source=share

Ship: Optimus x gender-neutral reader x Ratchet

Fic category: hurt/comfort

Trigger Warning: Self-Harm, Depression, mention of past suicide attempt,

“Speech”

-Commlink conversation-

kursiv=thought

It was a calm Friday at the base, the kids finally got the permission from their parents, Fowler and Optimus to have a sleepover all weekend long. Difference all the kids sleep with their guardians, and I will sleep n the main area.

You see everyone has a guardian, a protector of sorts, they pick you up from school protect you from the Decepticons spent time with you while you teach them about earth and humans. For example, Arcee is Jacks Guardian, Bulkhead protects Miko meanwhile Raf has Bumblebee as his Guardian and I well, I can take care of myself, always has always will and that is fine. Believe me I can understand Optimus is the leader of the Autobots he already knows all about Earth and humans a top of that he has the burden of an entire planet and war on his shoulder, meanwhile Ratchet constantly works from trying to help with scientific advancements to give constant medical services.

Ratchet is a medic to be more precise the medical officer of the Autobots, and probably the person that loathes me the most. And I tried to befriend him, or at least be on civil speaking terms (like June), with him but every time I try, it seems the opposite happens. Some people just don’t get along with others. And I would stay out his way believe me I can take a hint. My other half guardian would be Optimus he is the leader. He is civil with everyone, and kind of the only bot Ratchet is willing to listen to. He is nice we, on the rare occasion he has time, talk about books. But well Optimus is the Autobot leader and a Prime he doesn’t have time for a small human like me, which is absolutely understandable, I mean he carries the weight of the fate of our planet and the future of his planet on his shoulder. While simultaneously being a strong leader for his team and fighting in a war. Problem they are my guardians, well half guardians, they sometimes just drive me home or well bridges me there. But seeing the other kids with their guardians does make me miss something I wish I had, but that’s just me being silly. And I have my ways to deal with these thoughts and feelings.

Shaking myself out of those thoughts I look at the time and realize the kids are not going to be back soon. Jack and Arcee were on Patrol, Raf and Bumblebee were out as well probably racing and finally, Miko and Bulkhead are out dune bashing. Realizing I have the bathroom to myself I grab my bag and move into the direction of the shower.

We all had bags in the base with back up clothes, sleeping bags and basic hygiene products after one-to-many incidence that ended in us needing a change of clothes or having a spontaneously sleepover. And I was in desperate need of a shower.

Infront of the bathroom we put an old locker where we could put our stuff, the locks were Jacks idea to make the locker Miko-proof. After I took my clothes and shower out of my locker, I checked the floor to check for anyone in the hallway. Knowing it was empty I rummaged through my bag to get to a small cardboard box buried under my clothes. Having the little box in my hands I pull out one of the wrapped articles an put the box back into its hiding spot. Having the utensil concealed underneath my clothes I give one last look into the hallway before stepping into the the room with the showers and putting my clothes into the designated spot. I start to strip out of my clothes, and leave them on the floor, they are a problem for future me. Taking my shampoo, bodywash, towel and the still wrapped object I proceed into the actual shower. The warm water on my skin feels like heaven and I release a shaky breath.

There are several reasons in my opinion why showers are great. But the biggest is probably that a shower washes everything away like stress, exhaustion, tears, and blood. Though I suppose for most people they are just a way to get clean. In the background of my brain my thoughts are continuing their philosophy about humans and shower time. While I watch fascinated, with the occasional sharp sting on my lower arm, as red mixes with the clear water and goes down the drain. I glance to my arm and see my dominate hand holding the now unwrapped blade while continuously slitting red lines into my skin. The little red drops don’t even have time to form as they are immediately washed away. It has been some time since I last did this. When did I last cut myself, it was probably a few weeks before I met the Autobots. Right, I wanted to kill myself on the day I met the Autobots but couldn’t go through with it because The Decepticons attacked me before I could begin. And since then, I didn’t find the time. Oh, right I should go back before someone tries to find me. No one should see me this way.

Quickly washing my hair and body, while being careful around my wound, I turned off the shower and dried myself up, carefully dipping around the wound, it was a good decision to buy black towels. After throwing on a hoodie and a pair of short sweatpants I clean up after me and leave the shower, stuffing the wrapping paper and blade into my hoodie, to dispose of them later. After gripping my bag and putting it back into my locker, I slowly start to trot back to the others.

The main room came into view, mentally preparing myself for the social flood I take a deep breath and step into the room. Only to find nothing, or more like no one, the room is empty. The human area is missing Jack, Miko as well as Raph and even Arcee, Bumblebee along with Bulkhead are missing. Only Ratchet and Optimus are on the computers no doubt calculating and strategizing the future of the Autobots. Having just taken a few steps into the room both of them suddenly freeze which is concerning. After they scan the room for whatever it is that unsettles both their optics land nearly contemporaneous on me.

“Uhm are you okay should, should I leave, I can go no Problem I didn’t mean to interrupt you. Do you know where the menaces are I wou-.”

“You are injured.”

“What?”

“You are injured.”

I blinked my mind trying to process onto what is happening. While Ratchets observation is not wrong, how did he know? Does Optimus know? He looks just as shocked as Ratchet. Wait do they know? Know what I did? No, they can’t that’s not possible. But they are aliens, with high tech and Ratchet is essential a doctor. My body erupts into goosebumps, and I have a full body shiver. Which tears me out of my thoughts. Just in time to see Ratchets green arm scanner disappearing and him looking at the apparent scan results. Looking up it’s like some turned a switch around and he is in doctor mode.

“You have multiple incisions on your underarm. The next steps are to clean the wound and wrap it up to keep the wounds from getting infected and help with the healing process. Now follow me to the med bay so that I can ensure the appropriate treatment of the wounds and check if there are incisions that need stitching.”

I look shell shocked between Optimus and Rachet. Unable to react.

“Well, what are you waiting for the faster you receive medical treatment the lesser the chance of infection.”

One thought crosses my thought. -If Ratchet takes me to the med bay he will see the wound, if he sees the wounds, he wants to know how they came to be. Then I must explain, then they will now that I am a useless wreck, and they should abandon me. - Scared of the reaction that will follow the reveal of the reasons behind my scars I do the only thing, sensible to me at that moment. I turn tail and bolt out of the room into maze which are the corridors of the old missile silo. Followed by an angry shout.

“You better come back here right this nanocycle, or so help you, Primus!”

The floor feels like it is vibrating and the muffled sound of something solid hitting the ground repeatedly, changes to fast approaching vehicles. A Blur of red and white speeds past me, I collied with solid metal. A Ambulance is parked right in front of me. The ambulance belongs to a medic, a medic which patient just went AWOL and not only tried to escape treatment but also him. Doing a 180 is met with yet another collision, this time though the metal adorns a red-blue colour scheme and the vehicle changes from an ambulance to a semi-truck. Both ways blocked by vehicles and surrounded by thick concrete walls that are enclosing rapidly.

“What is wrong with you? What happened back there?”

“Little Archivist?”

A high-pitched tone goes through my ears and my hands instinctively cover them, only for my chest to feel like someone laid multiple rocks on my lungs. Rapidly trying to take deep breath to get oxygen in my lungs doesn’t seem to work and my vision starts to blur. The feeling of a calm deep baritone voice starts to slowly blend the high-pitched noise out. while the feeling of warmth and something smooth encircles me. Drawing small patterns onto the metallic looking appendage start to pacify the wind whirl in my thoughts.

“You are safe our little archivist, everything’s going to be alright, we are here.”

“Can I come closer? Is it okay if I touch you?”

Looking up I am met with the concerned optics of Ratchet. I nod and slowly the feeling of something warm and smooth encircles me. And I find myself sitting in a metal servo with a cybertronian equivalent of a thumb gently draped over my legs Drawing small patterns onto the metal appendage furthers the process to pacify the wind whirl in my thoughts. And I feel a light draft from being slowly lifted, as Ratchet starts to slowly right himself to his full hight. Optimus slowly makes his way over to us with careful steps, like one would do when faced with a scared animal.

“Little Archivist, are you back with us?”

Looking up to Optimus I nod, his faceplate shows the same feelings as Ratchet. Confusion, Concern and behind the two one could see fear.

“We won’t discuss or ask about what transpired if you don’t feel ready for that conversation.”

“But I do need to take of your wounds. I won’t ask any question related to how you got them, in exchange you will go with us to the med bay and let me take care of the injury.”

“And after the medbay you will stay within both see and hearing distance of either me or Ratchet, which includes recharge which we will do once Ratchet has checked you, over. Do you agree to our condition?”

I nod unsure and confused on what else I could do. Ratchet carefully curls his servo around me and we move into the direction of the medbay. No one saying a thing.

As Ratchet walks through the doors of the medbay Optimus directly behind us closes the doors and moves to the side of the berth Ratchet carefully put me on. A series of clicks later two mass-displaced cybertronians are sitting next to me. As Ratchet makes a move to inspect my arm, I get startled out of my vegetive state and recoil back. Right into Optimus. Gently he lifts me up like I weigh nothing and deposit me into his lap. One servo circles around my midsection and remains there light enough to not make me feel trapped but still secure enough to give comfort and be grounding. All the while laying his other servo on my head and tenderly guiding my head to his chest plate right above his spark. The sound of his spark giving me something to focus on, as I lean against him.

“Your safe little archivist, we are here, we want to help you.”

The deep rumble of Optimus voice and the warmth of his chassis made me snuggle closer to him.

“He is right little spark, would it be ok if I touch you? I want to take a closer look at your wounds.”

Looking up at Ratchet I saw the gentle look upon his faceplate, being reassured by his words and voice. I slowly uncurled my arm and hold it out for Ratchet, my scars on full display for both cybertronians to see. Both silent as Ratchet inspects the scars and starts getting the supplies, he needs to clean the incisions, from his human med bag that I only notice now.

“I am going to disinfect the wound now, little spark. This may sting a little.”

Hissing as the alcohol-soaked cotton ball hit my wounds was the only thing I could really do, with the firm grip Optimus and Ratchet had. I couldn’t escape or really move my limbs, though I weirdly didn’t feel trapped, it felt comfortable, it felt safe. After cleaning up the wounds, Ratchet put some ointment onto aid in the healing process and started wrapping up the arm, while continuing to hold my arm in the strong hold. Ratchet took a deep vent, a human custom he adopted. And raised his helm util his optics met my eyes.

“These incisions are very clean, like they were created with a sharp object under the intension to cause harm.”

“A sharp object like a knife or a razor blade.”

That sentenced from Optimus made me look up, only to see his gaze on a small metal object in his left servo that had previously held my head. I paled and try to escape only to realize Optimus had tighten his grip around my mid-section and Ratchet held my arm the same way Optimus held my mid-riff. Atop my legs were trapped between Ratchets thigh guards. It was clear that they both did this before and had no intension of letting me run away again.

“No no, let me go. Please I won’t do it again I swear. Just please.”

In hindsight I also could have tried to move a brick wall and would have been more successful. But in that moment my flight reflex complex was in full motion. Ratchet took that moment to ask the dreaded question.

“Little Spark did you do it? We are not mad or disappointed, we won’t scream or judge you.”

“But we need to know if you hurt yourself, little archivist. We want to help but we can only do so if you let us.”

“You are important to us, we don’t…can’t lose you. Please talk to us.”

Hearing their concern, I hesitantly looked up to see their optics on me. Fear and sadness edged onto both of their faceplates. Seeing the always confident leader of the Autobots and the consistently guarded medic be this vulnerable for me. They cared for me, the one always over, the third wheel made, the back-up friend, made me break. For the first time in a long time, I opened up to someone, let someone see my heart, see me. Not the carefully crafted persona made to please everyone. No, I showed them the real me the shattered person that fixed themselves with all-purpose glues and duct-tape. I always was pretty ugly when I cried.

As my crying ebbed down into silent little sobs and I realize my surroundings. I find myself in a hug, surrounded by warmth and seeing parts of an orange-white shoulder pad. Slowly the shoulder pad moved back to reveal a chassis with a helm and a face plate with a look of love, care and relief.

“Now little spark, I say you need a good recharge, doctors’ orders.”

I heard Optimus chuckle, at Ratchets attempt to hide his as he calls it “soft side”, as he lifts me up and into his arms. Causing me to yelp and latch onto Optimus due to the sudden movement. Causing another chuckle from Optimus and a small smirk from Ratchet.

“I agree with him you need rest, little archivist. Besides I don’t think it is wise to go against a medic’s orders. Especially Ratchets”

“Can I get that in writing.”

I couldn’t help myself and smiled, it was small and a little shaky, but it was real, the first one in a long time, that wasn’t forced. Turning back to his original size ratchet took Optimus with me in his arms into his servo and moved out of the medbay.

“Where are we headed?”

“To our hab suite little spark. Because besides you there is another bot that hasn’t recharged in a few decacycles and desperately needs to shut down.

Said bot kept quiet and didn’t acknowledge the hint Ratchet gave. Continuing the journey to the bot’s quarters while surrounded by Optimus warmth and with the gentle movement of Ratchet, my eyes felt heavy, and I couldn’t contain my yawning. The Adrenalin is probably leaving my body. Fighting against the exhaustion seemed useless as I grew more tired from minute to minute. Until sleep claimed me and I fell asleep in the arms of Optimus.

Feeling a sudden weigh on his shoulder the Prime carefully moved his helm to see their little human deep in recharge on in his arms. Feeling a small smile make his way onto his faceplate as he carefully readjusted his grip on the small human.

-Ratchet it seems our little sparkmate, didn’t make it to our berth to fall into recharge. -

Ratchets gaze fell upon his Counjux to see the little human, in his arms, indeed had felt into recharge.

-Well, are you surprised, after everything that happened today. I am just disappointed we didn’t notice it earlier. Then they wouldn’t have to suffer today. Who knows how long they already had to deal with this on their own. –

Feeling the blame Ratchet put on himself through their spark bond. Optimus looked up to his Conjux.

-Not you or I are to blame for not this. Though the situation my be dire it is good we have found out now before worse could happen. Now we are able to help, able to stand beside them to fight of their inner demons. –

-Always the poet, Optimus. But enough of the sentimental their will be more than enough time for that in the future. For now it’s time for recharge, both of you desperately need it. –

Seeing they arrived at their shared hab suite. They end their commlink conversation, as Ratchet carefully deposits them on the berth. Optimus carefully lays the sleeping human in his arms down, before changing back to his original size and laying himself next to his conjux. Taking their little human between them. They share a little kiss before powering down to the sound of two sparks and a drumming heart.

#transformers #transformers prime #macaddam #ratchet x reader #optimus x reader #optimus x ratchet #optimus prime #transformers angst #transformers comfort #ratchet #gender neutral reader

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pickingupmymercedes · 4 months ago

Note

what's the best way to start learning about fashion, understanding the meaning behind the outfits, what the designer or the atelier wants to convey through them etc?

I saw a few of your posts having details about such things, and wanted to check if you knew a direction to start, as i can only find resources on the fashion industry, and not fashion as a whole.

tysm, and loving the fics btw, they're really the best i've read in a while <3

-i

Hi bestie, your ask got me so excited so I'll try to not ramble.

For me what really opened up my horizons to really understand what fashion is (as opposed to the industry) was to learn about the maisons.

So start with the bigger ones, get to know their stories, how they came about, their first colletions, their head creative directors and how and why they were chosen to replace the origional founders

(I love the sucession of Oscar de la Renta to Decarnain to Olivier Rousteing at Balmain as examples because they left huge marks on the maison - for good and bad)

Also something we tend to overlook a bit but will give you a direction to where the maisons were headed is who they were designing for (specially important pre fashion industry massification)

I started studying more with Dior (I think Pierre Balmain is also a good starting point), so getting to know Christian, his early designs (there's early illustrations from the late 1920's), where he started to work as a designer (the french call it his couture school) and what were his firsts influences. And for Christian it's fascinating how his own collections drifted from those firsts bc of how his works evolved.

Do visit the official website for the maisons, they have so much there, but also take what they display with a pinch of salt bc they're obviously selling the image.

Search up the problems, controversies, friendships and aliances they tell us a lot too.

I'm a huge lover of the younger designers but I have found I understand the designs and their references better now that I also know the story. We need those references to create a fair judgement as much as they use it to design.

Something that I also find interesting is studying how those designers move and how they rise. So let's take Alaia as an example (bc Lewis went to their fs) their head creative director is Pieter Mulier and he's seen by many as one of the favorites to head Channel now that Virginie stepped down. But his career started working for Raf Simons (through Jil Sander, Dior and Calvin Klein), and now Raf is head for Prada. So, knowing his steps and considering how each of those maisons have shaped how he designs is a key part to understand his collections.

Something that changed for me as well was realising how different the fashion world worked with different body types back then vs. how it does now. And that has a lot to do with the fashion industry and how profitable it got, so much so that they sell fashion today as a package (body and clothing), and not as a self expression experience (hence influencers).

Anyway, I rambled, but I started by going to the basics of the big three of the post war haute couture in France, so, Christian Dior, Pierre Balmain and Christopher Balenciaga. But you can also start with the classics in Gabrielle Channel and how they've been shaping and reshaping themselves or even going to the italians from the late 70's/80's/90's with Armani, Gucci, Versace (just know the italians are a bit trick bc they started their maisons when the fashion industry was already taking place)

Hope I've helped a bit, and if you want to talk about it my asks are always open to chat!

#ella asks #-i anon #fashion #couture

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madam-wakefield · 1 year ago

Text

Open when...Chapter 5

AO3 Link FF Link

Summary:

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 When a few years into their relationship Bernie is asked to go back to the army and deploy Serena isn't sure how she's going to get through the nine months without her girlfriend. What she doesn't expect is for it to be her girlfriend who has the perfect set of surprises to get her through both the best and the worst days. Canon divergent - Elinor lives (well actually the accident never happens), Raf lives, and Cameron isn't a total ass! The staff of AAU also probably didn't all work on there at the same time in canon but do in this! The fic is already fully written with the first few chapters having already been Beta'd. 27 chapters including the epilogue. Hoping to post every Monday and Friday!

Chapter 5

Open when you have had a good day at work…

Bernie has been gone over a month before she really starts to feel somewhat used to not having her partner around. It isn’t easy, but it’s easier than it was when she first left. She and Jason have slowly fallen into a good routine, and this makes life easier for them both. Serena has also gained more confidence in Raf which means there are times when she lets him handle the red phone on his own, knowing he’ll call her in if she’s needed.

Today has been one such day: She’d been working alongside Raf when the car accident had been called through, two victims with almost identical injuries. There is no way they could have chosen which one of them to prioritise and they didn’t have to. They’d each taken their own second doctor and taken both patients into surgery at the same time. She and Raf had both encountered different complications in theatre, but the end result is the same for both patients. While recovery will take a while, they should both be fine.

That isn’t the only positive thing to come out of the day. The new F1s who have been driving her crazy for the past week finally seem to be getting used to how life at the AAU runs. They act professionally and sensibly but also aren’t scared to call on her for help. By the end of the day, she remembers exactly what she loves about her job and why she loves being clinical lead of AAU. Today has been one of those days when what she’s done at work has really made a difference.

At the end of her shift she decides that today is definitely a day for one of Bernie’s envelopes. It doesn’t take her long to find the right one: “Serena – Open when you’ve had a good day…”

Just as she’s collecting her bag and coat, Fletcher sticks his head round the office door to tell her they are all off to Albie’s for a drink. Normally she’d accompany them, but this evening she decides she wants to take her letter home and enjoy reading it before taking time to herself write to Bernie. She knows that while her day has been good, Bernie won’t be having the same kind of good days as she is, so she wants to share this with her in the hope it will at least help a little.

The house is quiet when she gets home, and she can’t say it isn’t welcome. Jason is on a late shift which means he likely won’t be home until she’s already in bed. She heats up some leftover curry that she’d saved for the evening and pours herself a glass of red wine before heading to the table, taking the envelope from Bernie carefully out of her bag.

She can’t help but smile at Bernie’s messy writing, it’s the epitome of a doctor’s handwriting. She takes the letter out of the envelope and lays it flat on the table so she can eat while she reads.

My Dearest Serena,

I’m so glad you have had a good day and I hope that reading this will help make it even better. It’s so nice to have a day at the mad house that either runs smoothly or that works out for the best despite the challenges thrown at you. I’m so thankful to have you (and Raf) looking after the trauma unit for me. Please write to me when you can to tell me about your wonderful day but until then, let me pamper you with some of my own words of affirmation.

I am truly lucky that I get to call you my girlfriend, because you’ve been everything to me these past few years. I value how you’ve always taken care of me, even when you’ve been tired. I love the way your eyes light up when you compliment me. The gentle tone you use when talking to me, the one that shows me that you truly cherish me. I know that this life we have created together is not a temporary thing but a permanent blossoming in our hearts.

That final thought makes every day I spend deployed just a little bit easier. Knowing that at home is someone who wants to nurture and flourish this relationship as much as I do. That trusts me enough to let me have this time, to find the closure I truly needed.

When I joined the army, I couldn’t openly be who I was. I would have lost everything. Yet here I am able to openly write that I am so thankful that I met you. Never in my dreams did I ever imagine that I would find anyone as wonderful as you. Here I am closing the army chapter in my life, openly gay and with the most amazing woman that I get to call my girlfriend.

I hope this letter has helped to make your day even more enjoyable than it already was.

All My Love, Bernie,

Your Big Macho Army Medic x

By the time she finishes the letter her heart is so full of love for Bernie that she’s surprised it doesn’t burst open. She can’t say this is ever how she imagined her life would be like, since she had never even considered kissing a woman before meeting Bernie. But right here and right now, she knows she wouldn’t have life any other way.

She stands from the table, picking up her half empty glass of wine, and heads towards the living room, grabbing her laptop as she goes. She loads up the INtouch electronic mail service, happy now that she’s gotten adept enough to do it by herself. She takes a long swig of wine before beginning to type.

Dear Bernie,

You, my love, are just incredible. I’ve had a good day at work today and decided it was the perfect day to open the matching envelope. You are truly correct, it has made my day even more enjoyable than it already was.

I guess I’ll start at the beginning. I woke up having had a full nine hours sleep, I’m sure that’s the first time I’ve managed that since you’ve been gone. As Jason was on the late shift I didn’t want to wake him, so I decided to grab breakfast and coffee at Pulses, and my timing must have just been impeccable as the croissants were freshly baked just as I arrived, and smothered with a big helping of butter and black currant jam. They were just divine. (I’m hoping this isn’t making you too jealous. To help a little, I’ll send you a jar next time I send a care package over.)

My day just got better from there. All of the F1s who were on shift turned up on time, and not a single one of them was hungover. They acted professionally and were even able to do parts of their jobs without me having to hover over them. Let’s just say my paperwork mountain is slowly looking smaller.

Of course, the red phone didn’t behave all day, but I’m now at the point where I trusted Raf to take the first call with Jasmine. And I only jumped in on the second one because we had two patients with almost identical injuries that both needed operating on at the same time. Needless to say, both are doing well and will make a full recovery. (Don’t think that means I don’t want you back though – sharing an office with Raf isn’t as fun as sharing it with you.)

Then I got home, and I read your letter, and if I’m not the luckiest woman alive, I don’t know who is! How fortunate I am that, even from over three thousand miles away, you are looking after me. That you want me to be the best I can be every day. That you want to hear about all the things that are happening to me whilst you are gone. I think the only thing that would make this day better would be hearing your voice, because I do miss that. I know there isn’t as much I can do to make sure your day goes well but what I will do is attach some recent pictures to this letter.

All my love, darling

Stay safe, soldier.

Serena x

Just as she hits the send button, her phone starts buzzing. She looks down at it to realise her good day is about to become the best day.

“Hey, you,” she says gently, smiling so wide that it’s threatening to split her face in two.

“Hey, my love. Sorry I didn’t give you any notice before calling. I just felt like I needed to hear your voice today.” And Serena wants to say she understands but she doesn’t, not totally. Yes, she wants to hear Bernie’s voice, but she isn’t seeing what Bernie is seeing, isn’t going through what Bernie is.

“That’s okay, I’ve just finished writing you an e-bluey actually.” They both know they aren’t officially called that anymore, but it’s so much easier to call them that when referring to them.

“Thank you.” It’s said from under Bernie’s fringe. Serena’s fingers twitch with the urge to gently brush it out of her face but she can’t. “So how is everyone, everything?”

Serena can’t help but study every inch of Bernie’s grainy face as she replies. “Things are good, it’s starting to get cold here now, the weather is feeling much more autumnal than It was. The trees at the spot where we go walking have turned into the most magnificent shades of oranges and reds. Actually, I attached a picture with the bluey I just wrote you.”

“Oh, I imagine it’s beautiful, I’m glad you’re doing things for yourself while I’m gone,” Bernie says, smiling back at her. She misses seeing that smile in person, but she’ll take what she can get right now.

“As if you’d have it any other way.” The chuckle she gets out of Bernie at that is music to her ears. “Mrs. Higgs from next door has been back in hospital though she seems to me home and on the mend again now. She told me to pass on her regards next time we spoke.”

“She’s having a poor run of it, isn’t she?” Bernie questions back.

“She is, thank god for our brilliant NHS.” Bernie chuckles again at that and Serena would do anything to hear it all night, but she knows they don’t have that luxury.

“What about you?” Bernie questions. “What else have you been up to?”

Serena had been reserved about sharing this sort of thing during their first few conversations, feeling guilty for being able to talk about so much of the stuff she was doing when Bernie’s circumstances were so very different. But then Bernie had explained that she likes it, that it gives her a way of feeling closer to home.

“Fleur and I went out for brunch on Friday, we tried a new café in town, and trust me, I’m taking you once you’re home. You’ll just love the French toast they serve. I’ve got a hair appointment booked for Thursday, my next day off. The grey is starting to show a little too much. Then the day after, I’m off to watch Elinor in her show. What about you? How’s the downtime been?

“Good, we played volleyball together earlier, though I’m not sure my back is very thankful for that right now. Oh, and your care package arrived, the sweets lasted all of five minutes, though in my defence I did share them with the rest of the team. Oh, and sorry to be a pain, but the next time you send one I’m almost certainly going to need some more deodorant,” Bernie says before yawning. Serena watches the way the corner of her eyes crinkle.

“Never! You know you can always ask me for the things you need. But now I think you need to go and get some rest, love. Isn’t it almost midnight there?”

“It is, and you’re right, I probably do. I love you and miss you, remember that.”

“I love and miss you too, stay safe, soldier.”

And that night as she goes to sleep, Serena is the most content she's felt since Bernie went away.

#open when #berena #bernie wolfe #serena campbell #holby city #holby #buckle fandom #madam wakefield writes #Berena Fanfic #Berena FF #Berena Fanfiction #Buckle Fandom #Holby FF #Holby City FF #Holby fanfic #Holby City Fanfic #Holby Fanfiction #Holby City Fanfiction

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twistsandtwizzles · 2 years ago

Text

Fic: No Such Thing as Over You

Author's Note: 4,000 words of angst, pining, and poor decisions. Happy Valentine's Day?

Content warning for some language and sexual situations

She ends it, for real this time, on one of those strange, rudderless days over the holidays. She’s home after a whirlwind stretch of shows and vacations, now with time to think about all the things she’s been avoiding thinking about, and she may not know if it’s Monday or Thursday but she does know what she has to do.

“It just hurts too much,” she tells him. “It hurts when we’re apart, because I miss you. Then it hurts when we’re together, because I know how little time we have before one of us has to leave again.”

It also hurts to have to hide, to sometimes feel like he’s keeping her a secret, but she doesn’t add that to the list. They’ve fought about it enough.

Mariah fiddles with a throw pillow. He waits silently on the other end of the video call as she gathers her thoughts. He hasn't pushed back, hasn’t used his unfailing logic to list all the reasons that she’s wrong, to lay out his case for why they should keep trying.

That maybe hurts most of all.

“It shouldn’t be this hard,” she says finally.

“I know.” He sighs. “I wish . . . I don’t know. I wish I could be there. Or you could be here.”

“That’s the thing, though, right? That’s not an option. And we can’t do two more years of this.”

Two more years of their hearts sinking as it becomes obvious that the FaceTime will go unanswered. Two more years of misconstrued messages and misplaced jealousy. Of telling themselves that it will all be easier when they finally see each other in person, only to have their reunion rescheduled. And rescheduled again.

“So we just, what?” he asks. “Go back in time? Be friends and pretend like this never happened? Because I don’t think I can do that.”

This is the part that she’s been dreading the most. “Neither can I. Which is why I think we . . . give each other some space. Don’t talk, for a while.”

His face tightens. “Right.”

“Not forever,” she says hurriedly. “I don’t want that either. Just until . . .”

Here she trails off. Until what? Until she stops loving him? She can’t imagine how long that will take.

But she can see their new lives rolling out in front of them, leading them in different directions. Knows that fighting to hang onto each other is only going to hold them both back.

“Until it hurts less,” she finishes, her words unconvincing even to her own ears.

“Right,” he says again, voice terse. He’s no longer looking at the screen. “If that’s what you want.”

It’s the last thing she wants. But it’s the only way she can possibly see getting through this.

Neither of them speak for a long minute. He takes a deep breath. “Well, I guess that’s it, then.”

“Nathan -”

“Good luck with school. I’m proud of you.” He reaches toward his screen, about to hang up, but there is one last thing she needs to tell him.

“This was the best year of my life,” she says, wanting him to know that she doesn’t regret any of it.

The look in his eyes would have broken her heart if she hadn’t already broken it herself. He smiles sadly. “Mine, too.”

Then he’s gone.

She buries her face in Nala’s fur and cries.

—

She starts school. It’s overwhelming, exhilarating, terrifying, boring . . . everything she had been hoping it would be. She loves the energy on campus, the experience of sitting in a lecture hall, even loves the way her first reading assignment makes her eyes cross.

Every time she gets the urge to text him, she writes it in her notes app instead. By the end of the first week of class, there are 47 messages there that she’ll never send.

I just had to run across campus to get to class now I understand why you use that dumb skateboard.

I feel old. Am I too old for this?

Psych prof is Raf with a Texas accent, maybe long lost twins?

I miss you

She reads them back all at once, then hits delete.

He doesn’t go to Nationals, and she’s both relieved and disappointed. Most of their friends are there; they gently inquire about how she is doing. She recognizes the tone. She wonders who he told about the breakup first, what he said. She refrains from asking any of them about him. She tells them she is doing fine.

Because she is. She’s grateful she came, and that she has a job to do while she’s here. It’s fun to see the event from another perspective, to be a part of the action in a different way. It’s also a little bit strange how her competition days already feel like they were so long ago. The world just keeps moving on.

Meanwhile, Nathan goes to the White House. Her aunt, apparently behind on the family gossip, sends her the video, adding How cool for him!!!

Mariah watches it standing in the mixed zone, feeling like the ground is falling out from under her feet. He cut his hair, is all she can think. He cut his hair and shook the President’s hand. And I had no idea.

She excuses herself, finds an empty stairwell where she can pull herself together. Reminds herself that not being a part of his life is what she said she needed. Returns with a smile on her face.

She is doing fine.

A bunch of the alumni skaters go out on the final night of the competition. The last time she was out in San Jose was on tour in the spring, when she made out with Nathan in a corner booth while their friends laughed and danced, all of them stumbling back to their hotel giggly and tipsy, on top of the world.

Tonight she drinks too much, finds herself leaning over a toilet in the club bathroom like she’s 21 again, apologizing profusely as a friend holds back her hair.

“You gotta let yourself grieve, babe,” her friend says, rubbing her shoulder gently. “If you don’t let yourself feel it, it won’t get better.”

“He cut his hair,” Mariah replies sadly.

She always told him how much she liked it long.

—

In late March, her sister sets her up on a date with one of her boyfriend’s friends. Mariah protests, says it’s still too soon, but her sister convinces her to at least give it a shot.

“It’s drinks, not a lifetime commitment. Plus he’s never worn a pair of skates in his life,” she says, applying Mariah’s eyeshadow. “It’ll be a good change of pace for you.”

His name is Tyler. He’s nice. Tall, blond, blue eyes. Texan, born and raised. They talk about her classes and his job. He laughs politely at her jokes (admittedly not her best work), walks her to her door, gives her a hug. Says he’ll call her. She’s doubtful he will. She breathes a sigh of relief once she’s inside.

She was right. She wasn’t ready. What she is, instead, is exhausted. She’s tired of pretending that she doesn’t miss Nathan, that she doesn’t want to talk to him everyday.

She has her phone to her ear before she can even really process what she is doing.

He answers on the second ring. “Mariah?”

She did not think about what she was actually going to say if he answered. Or how good it would feel to hear him say her name.

“Hello?” Nathan asks. She can hear people and music in the background. A normal college student out on a normal Friday night. She’s not sure why that makes her sad. “Mariah?”

She manages to find her voice. “Hi.”

“Hi.” The background noises recede a bit; she wonders if he’s moving out into a hallway. “What’s going on?” She tries to identify his tone. Confused? Wary? Hopeful? Maybe that last one is her wishful thinking.

“I, um. Sorry to bother you.” This was such a bad idea.

“Is everything okay?”

“I went on a date,” she blurts, then winces.

“You called for the first time in months to tell me you went on a date?” He sounds pissed, and she can’t blame him.

“I hated it.”

A beat of silence. “Okay? I don’t know what you want me -”

“I just miss you. All the time.”

She hears a door shut, the hum of the party going quiet. He exhales. “I miss you, too.”

“Well. Good.”

He gives a soft huff of laughter. The tension eases, a little.

“You’re at a party?” she asks, because it feels like the easiest topic to grab a hold of.

“Yeah. I mean, kind of. Just some people hanging out.”

It’s the kind of vague answer that would have driven her crazy several months ago - who is “some people”? Where are you? - but she knows she no longer has the right to ask for details. So she nods, even though he can’t see her, and reaches desperately for another topic. “How’s school? Do you still like your lab?”

“Mariah. Stop.” His voice is gentle but firm. “You can’t just call out of nowhere and pretend like everything is normal.”

“I know,” she says, chastened. “I’m sorry.”

“I was just starting to figure out how to do this, how to not have you in my life, and I finally stopped thinking about you for one second, and now you . . . It’s not fair. Because nothing with us has changed.” He pauses. “Has it?”

She desperately wants to say yes, things have changed. Fuck the distance, fuck school, it doesn’t matter. They can try again. They can make it work this time.

She’d be lying. And they both know it.

“No,” she says. “It hasn’t.”

The silence stretches between them, the conversation all but over but neither of them willing to sever their tentative reconnection. Both clinging to their phones like they're a lifeline.

He says, “I should go.”

“Okay,” she replies. Neither of them hangs up.

She hears a knock, the sound of a door opening, party noises flooding back into the room. A girl’s voice asks if everything’s okay. He says he’ll be done in a minute. The girl says something Mariah can’t quite catch, and he chuckles. The door closes again.

“You should go,” she says. It comes out sharper than she intends it too.

“Yeah.” He hesitates. She knows he’s debating how to acknowledge the voice. She wonders if he’ll downplay it. Or maybe try and make her jealous.

He simply settles for, “Bye, Mariah.” Which stings more than any explanation would have.

She texts her sister. Tells her to tell Tyler that she had a nice time.

—

She’s thrilled to be invited to perform in Japan that summer. She’s been going a little stir crazy, camped out in Dallas, traveling only for smaller domestic shows for most of the spring. So a couple of weeks in Japan, doing what she loves with a bunch of her friends, is exactly what she needs.

Tyler drives her to the airport. “I’ll miss you,” he says, lifting her suitcase out of the back of his truck. “Two weeks feels like a long time.”

She stands on her tiptoes, gives him a quick kiss. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

She doesn’t look back at him as she rolls her bag inside. It’s only once she gets past security that it occurs to her that she probably should have.

She’s jittery the whole flight. She can’t focus on a movie, or her magazines, or even her podcast, and eventually she gives up and just stares out the window. She’s never been a great flier, but her nerves are worse than usual. She tries to convince herself that this has absolutely nothing to do with Nathan headlining this show.

And the reason she spends far too long getting ready on the first day of rehearsal has nothing to do with the fact that they have not been in the same room together for nearly eight months.

Because if that was the reason, it’d be ridiculous. They’ve both moved on. She’s with Tyler. He’s with . . . well, she heard about a gymnast. And then a tennis player. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. She and Nathan are both professional adults. This will be fine. She’s fine.

He’s already on the ice when she gets to the arena, halfway through his runthrough. She slips silently into a seat at center ice, a few rows back, and watches.

The song is moody, one of his cool indie bands singing about missed chances. He arcs his way across the ice, his movements precise and achingly beautiful, blades as sure as ever. She is not surprised that his skating still takes her breath away.

His program ends. He returns to himself, back from wherever it is that he goes when it’s just him and the ice and the music, and his eyes meet hers.

For a second, it feels like it’s just her and Nathan again. Her shoulders relax, the tightness in her chest eases, and she forgets that she has spent the last twenty-four hours sick with anxiety.

Then he skates toward her, and she remembers. She meets him at the edge of the rink, clutching her equipment bag so she has something to do with her hands.

“Hey,” he says. His hair has grown back out a bit, curling over his ears and the back of his neck. “Did you just get in?” His tone is cordial, a little cautious. She’s glad that he seems to be nervous too.

“Yesterday,” she replies. “I haven’t really slept, so today should be interesting.”

He glances back to the ice, where the other cast members are starting to gather. “I should let you get ready, but uh . . . maybe we can catch up at lunch?”

“I’d like that,” she says honestly.

Something that looks like relief flashes across his face. “Great.” He begins to skate away, pauses. “It’s, um. It’s really good to see you.”

A few hours later, they grab their lunch from catering and bring it outside, perching on some benches near the arena entrance. They start with the easy stuff, a bit haltingly: school, family, what tv they’ve been binging. Shaking the rust off, uncovering their neglected friendship one layer at a time. Eventually the muscle memory takes over and they begin to fall back in their old rhythm. She’s telling a joke and he is laughing when tears spring to her eyes.

God, she’s missed him.

She looks down at her half-eaten salad, not wanting him to see that she’s upset, but of course he still knows her too well for that. He reaches out as if he’s going to touch her hand. Seems to think better of it.

“We should get going,” she says, avoiding his eyes. “I’ll see you inside.” She leaves him sitting on the bench.

She looks back at him as she opens the arena door. He is watching her walk away.

—

Her skate lace breaks about twenty minutes before the start of the first show. She’s tearing apart the empty dressing room, feeling fairly ridiculous in the neon green dress she’s been given for their 80s-themed opening group number, and beginning to panic because she can’t find her replacement laces. Then - of course - Nathan appears with supplies, telling her to sit down, his fingers confidently tying her boot exactly the way she likes to wear it.

Always prepared. She’s still surprised that he was never a Boy Scout. She watches him work, his face serious and focused, and tries to ignore the pounding of her heart. She is acutely aware that they are alone in this part of the building right now, the rest of the cast and crew already gathering near the tunnel.

He finishes with her lace and pauses. She thinks maybe he is going to say something but then, slowly and deliberately, he slides his hand up from her skate and runs it along the back of her leg. Her breath catches, the desire hitting her all at once. They lock eyes, his burning with the same intensity she feels, and as he begins to pull away, she grabs his wrist.

His lips are on hers in a flash. Mariah digs her fingers into his hair as he rises to his feet, lifting her along with him. She kisses him urgently, desperately, the way she has wished she could kiss him everyday since the last time she saw him.

She gasps as he presses her back against the dressing room wall, his hips grinding against hers. Their hands are everywhere as they try to touch every bit of each other, working to make up for so much lost time. She wraps a leg around him, pulls him closer, knowing that they are both wearing their skates and guards and their balance is precarious, not caring in the slightest.

His hand is roaming along her upper back, searching for something, and he finally growls, “WHAT is this costume?”

“The side,” she breathes, lifting her arm so he can access the closure. She wriggles out of the strap as he unzips her, his mouth on her breast as soon as her dress falls away. She arches into him, her hands finding their way to his waistband, when the backstage lights flicker.

Five minutes to showtime.

They freeze, foreheads pressed together, breathing heavy. Then he disentangles himself, making sure she has her balance as he does so, takes a step back. She loops her arm back into her costume, concentrating on closing the zipper and clasp while he gets himself sorted.

It was a mistake and it wasn’t. It can’t happen again but it will. It will shatter their barely mended hearts. She knows these things in her bones.

She pauses on her way out of the room, moves the rogue curl on his forehead back into place. She says, “We’ll talk after the show.”

He nods.

They don’t do much talking.

—

For ten days, it’s easy - too easy - to pretend. She can almost believe that they are back together for real, that they aren’t going to be returning home to completely separate lives 1,600 miles apart.

It should worry her, she thinks, how simply things click back into place. How right it feels, being with him, despite every reason they broke up in the first place still being true. How quickly she loses sight of the big picture when they are together.

We’ll deal with it later, she tells herself every night as she lies next to him, him falling asleep instantly; her wide awake, mind spinning.

It’s a losing strategy, but it’s the only one she’s got.

She wakes the morning of their last show to her phone ringing - Tyler, again. She tries to ignore the stab of guilt in her stomach as she sends the call to voicemail, puts her phone back on the nightstand face down. Another thing she will deal with later. She looks over to see Nathan watching her, face inscrutable. She looks away.

“What are you going to tell him?” he asks.

She has been wrestling with the same question, but it rankles coming from him. “I’m not sure that’s your business.”

He scoffs. “C’mon.”

She grabs a t-shirt from the floor, one of Nathan’s, and slips it on as she gets out of bed. “I’m not talking about him with you,” she says. “It’s not - he’s not - he has nothing to do with what happens between you and me.”

“So what does, then? If he’s not a factor?”

She stares at him, exasperated. “How many times do we have to talk about why this won’t work?”

“But it IS working,” he says. “Right now, it’s working. Really, really well.” He slides on a pair of sweats, crosses the hotel room so he can take her hand. “I don’t want to give us up again.”

She sighs. “It always works, when we’re together. But, Nathan . . . we are almost never together.”

“I graduate in less than a year.”

“And then you’ll go back to Irvine, skate again. Or start grad school. You finishing Yale doesn’t suddenly solve our problems.”

“I could come to Texas.”

“We both know you’re not moving to Texas,” she says. “Be serious.”

“I could. I will, if that’s what it takes. They have schools there. And ice rinks. And you.”

She reaches up and kisses him softly. “I love you. You know that, right? It is not easy for me to say no to this.”

He drops her hand. “Then don’t say it.”

“Nathan . . .”

“I don’t understand why you don’t even want to try.” He steps away from her as he speaks, snatches a sweatshirt from his suitcase and pulls it over his head.

“We did try, remember? We tried so hard.”

He shakes his head. “We gave up too soon. We’ll do better this time. I’ll do better this time.” His voice breaks, and she starts to move toward him. He takes another step back. “Just tell me we can try.”

She wishes that she could give him what he is asking for. “Maybe we shouldn’t make any decisions right now. Maybe we wait until we’re home. And then we can see how we feel.” We’ll deal with it later.

His shoulders sag. “Fine.”

“We have one more day here together. Let’s just enjoy it. Okay?” She gives him her best attempt at a smile before heading into the bathroom.

When she comes out two minutes later, he’s gone.

—

She breaks up with Tyler as soon as she gets home. She knows she was using him, knows she will probably always feel guilty about it. He does not seem surprised, but because he is unfailingly nice, wishes her well. Tells her he hopes she finds what she is looking for. She doesn’t tell him that she thinks she already has, and that she lost it.

Nathan goes back to Connecticut, starts his senior year. Gets accepted to almost every med school he applies to. Of course.

They don’t vanish from each other’s lives again, both agreeing that of all their bad decisions, that was the worst one. They slowly re-learn how to be just friends. They are successful, for the most part. Completely successful, if they don’t count their lapse in judgment at a friend’s 30th birthday party in the fall. Which she doesn’t, since there were extenuating circumstances (namely tequila).

They both date other people, though never seriously, and never for long.

Two of their friends get married the summer after Nathan graduates. She gets a text from the bride a couple of weeks before the wedding: FYI, Nathan didn’t RSVP for a plus one.

Mariah texts backs, JUST FRIENDS.

She gets an eye roll emoji in response.

The wedding is gorgeous, because of course it is. She cries through the entire ceremony, and also all of the speeches.

After dinner, their teammates conspicuously vanish from their table all at once, leaving her and Nathan alone. She glances at him. “They think they’re subtle.”

He smiles. “They really do.”

She raises her wine glass. “Congratulations on graduating.”

“Thank you.” He raises his beer in response. “Only took me six years.”

“Well, you did win an Olympic gold medal in the middle there, so you know. You should only be a little bit ashamed.”

He laughs. The dance floor is filling up behind them, and he stands, reaches out a hand. “Shall we?”

She takes his hand, follows him out to join their friends.

When a slow song starts, he draws her close. She wraps her arm around him, nestles her head against his shoulder.

He says, “I love you.”

He says it simply. Not asking for anything, not making some sort of grand romantic gesture. Stating it like it’s just a fact.

“I love you too,” she replies.

And maybe it really is that simple. It doesn’t matter whether they are friends or lovers or strangers or some weird thing in between. Despite her best efforts, she can’t stop loving him.

It is a terrifying thought and also a comforting one.

He kisses her forehead, and she closes her eyes. Feels the rise and fall of his chest as they sway to the music. Allows this, for the next three minutes, to be enough.

#fic #nathan x mariah #chenbell

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elendiliel · 2 years ago

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Soldier and Scientist

Another bit of semi-nonsense, following on from these fics. Inspiration credit, as ever, to @justawannabearchaeologist's series "TFP Wheeljack in TFA", which is still highly recommended.

---

“Hey, kid. What’cha got there?”

Glitch was too deep in the task in front of her even to be annoyed by Wheeljack’s greeting. Normally, she hated being called “kid”, but at that moment she had bigger circuits to fry – or, rather, modify. Besides, next to the battle-scarred veteran Wrecker the newest member of Team Prime did look like a sparkling, despite being of age by her home universe’s standards. “Wiring diagram for my magnets. I’m trying to figure out how to increase their power without sacrificing too much sensitivity. Might be on a hiding to nothing, but it’s worth a shot.”

“Want a hand?” Wheeljack was already studying the schematic with a look Glitch hadn’t seen on him before, not exactly, anyway. But then, she didn’t know him well, though she had been part of the team for a few weeks by then, and had gone fossil-hunting with most of its members. He kept himself to himself – which was at least preferable to Smokescreen’s frequent, hopefully-joking attempts to flirt with her. She liked her fellow semi-rookie, but wished he’d grow up a bit and calm down more.

“I wouldn’t say no.” Glitch moved aside a little so that Wheeljack could join her at the workbench they both now shared with Ratchet and Raf. The table was a spectrum of order, from the senior medibot’s and human’s carefully arranged tools through the field-tech’s creative chaos (which made sense to her, but not to anyone else) to the Wrecker’s mess of half-built grenades and other, mostly explosive, devices. Somehow, nothing had blown up and nobody had lost their temper. Yet.

“Interesting…” Wheeljack said, more to himself than to her. “Haven’t seen anything like this in a while, but have you considered adding a high-power setting, rather than increasing the power of the setting you’ve got? That might give you what you’re after.”

“A bimodal system? I hadn’t thought of that, but now you mention it…” Glitch started making tentative changes to the virtual circuits in front of her, Wheeljack watching and occasionally making suggestions or correcting her mistakes.

“You don’t seem surprised,” he remarked after a while, “that I know ‘bout this kind of thing. Most people just think of me as a Wrecker.”

“People are complicated. Nobody’s just one thing; look at my Bulkhead. Heavy-labour model, space-bridge genius and artist.” She had mentioned that before, so Wheeljack wasn’t too shocked. “’Sides, I’ve seen the way you analyse situations sometimes – more scientist than soldier. And your alternate is high up in the Science Guild. Brilliant engineer, tends to experiment on and modify himself rather than anybot or anything else, and quite possibly responsible for putting some of High Command’s more… dubious… projects on a better ethical footing.”

“I like the sound of him – but not of those projects. What kindsa things does he work on?”

“Most famously, Project Omega.” The wartime programme had been what she now knew humans called a “special interest” of hers since she was a sparkling. As she grew up, and especially after meeting one of the last Sentinels and his mentor, she had become more aware of the ethical issues around it, but all the data were still in her memory banks, and she’d have to be careful not to bombard Wheeljack with too much information. “Living weapons, Autobots with battleship alt-modes, created towards the end of the Great War. Designed to have very simple processors to avoid inconvenient attacks of conscience, so each one was assigned a mentor to teach them how to be soldiers, or in at least one case how to be Autobots. The first mentor was supposed to be an intel-bot who’d been a schoolteacher – my universe’s Arcee, as it happens – but to cut a long story short, my Ratchet had to take her place. The end result was the same – Omega Supreme was taught to be an Autobot hero, not just a killing machine.”

“Omega Supreme?” The name seemed to stir up memories for Wheeljack – ones he clearly wanted to keep buried, as he quickly redirected the conversation. “And my counterpart chose the other Arcee?”

“Ratchet thinks so. I can’t find any relevant files, and, believe me, I tried. Most of the others were assigned military officers, but given the draft and the utter sweetsparks at least two Primes I know back home can be, they could still have been chosen for the same reasons. The Omega Sentinels did everything from guarding convoys to fighting on the front lines – or, in Zeta Supreme’s case, beyond them as the Wreckers’ mobile base.”

“The Wreckers exist in your reality?” The look of excitement on Wheeljack’s face made Glitch’s spark flicker as she cursed her motor-voicebox.

“They did.” She wished she could lie, but she couldn’t, and there was no bending that truth. “The war claimed them. They did take all but one of the Decepticon Heavy Brigade with them, though.”

“That’s something, at least. What happened to the survivor?”

“Still in service, unfortunately. Offlined another three Sentinels over the course of the war, Delta, Beta and Eta, which one has to admit is impressive. Last seen acting as Team Chaar’s heavy hitter.” Very heavy, according to Glitch’s friend Ironhide, whose team had fought Blackout’s not long previously – relative to her, that was. This transdimensional stuff was complicated, even for a sci-fi fan.

“Are any of the Omega Sentinels still alive?” Wheeljack tried again to put the discussion on an upward trajectory.

“Two.” Out of twelve. “Omega and Sigma. Both had to be put in emergency stasis after the Battle of Iacon. Sigma’s still in stasis-lock, serving as the Elite Guard flagship Steelhaven, but Ratchet and Sari managed to revive Omega a couple of stellar-cycles ago.” Only for him to fall under the control of Megatron and Starscream. “He spends most of his time in Detroit, away from anyone who’d try to use him as a weapon again, and in ship mode still. Each to their own, though if I’d been stuck in my alt-mode that long I’d spend as much time as a biped as I could.”

“I know what you mean – though Earth does make some good cars.” Wheeljack’s alt was a rather nice custom sports car, almost as fast as Bumblebee’s. “What about Sigma? How’d he end up as a flagship?”

“His mentor is Ultra Magnus. What he thinks of having Sentinel bossing him around now, I wouldn’t care to speculate. I have my problems with Ultra, and the system he allowed to continue, but Sentinel’s just an out-and-out jerk. Yes, he’s been through a lot, but so has my Optimus and he’s still one of the nicest ‘bots one could hope to meet, as long as one doesn’t cross him.”

“You don’t seem to get along with our Ultra Magnus, either,” Wheeljack commented. Blast him. Oh well; maybe talking about that problem would help her resolve it.

“Not really, and I’m not sure why. He just – gets under my plating, and I seem to grind his gears as well. Being given structures and instructions is one thing, but I’ve never coped well with being ordered around.” Or treated like a soldier, rather than a field-tech. “Used to mess with Sentinel when he was my drill sergeant, partly for that reason, mostly because he was picking on my friends as well. There might be some carry-over from my reality, as well. As I say, I’m not a fan of my version.” She managed to mute her audio-processor at that point, before she could really start to rant. Though she hoped her issues with that universe’s Ultra Magnus were fixable. She didn’t like not liking people.

“I’ve never got on with ours, either.” Glitch had gathered that. “But enough of that. Looks like we’re just about done here.”

Glitch re-analysed the new wiring diagram. “I concur. But would you be offended if I were to ask Ratchet to triple-check this?”

“Not at all. Though I don’t think you need to. You’re pretty good at this, once pointed in the right direction.” Glitch blushed and avoided Wheeljack’s optics more than usual. “I’m surprised he hasn’t recruited you to help with the groundbridge, or his Synth-En project.”

“I’d be no use as regards the groundbridge. Whenever Bulk tries to explain space-bridges to me, it just goes whoosh,” she mimed something flying over her head, “and not because he’s about twice my height. I wouldn’t say no to the Synth-En work, though. I’ve done some research on my version.” Not enough that she could synthesise it – yet. She was making do with oil, aware that Team Prime’s Energon resources were very limited. “Although – let’s just say there’s a reason my lab’s well away from the living quarters back at the Plant. And that I’m very glad we have fire extinguishers that aren’t attached to Optimus now.”

“I knew I liked ya,” Wheeljack laughed. Glitch had no idea how to respond to that comment, so ignored it and carried on. “Recently, I’ve been working more on organic chemistry and biochemistry. My friend Elita’s half-‘bot, half Archa-7 spider, which makes things tricky when she needs medical treatment. She and I had to reverse-engineer a lot of their biology just to design basics like painkillers and sedatives. I think we were close to a breakthrough when I ended up here.” She sighed. “Hopefully, Ratchet can take my place on the medical front, and Optimus will carry on helping her accept her organic half and stop hating it and trying to get rid of it. He’ll probably do a better job, actually. My main concern is what might happen if Sentinel finds out that she’s at our base while I’m here.”

“Why’s that?”

“He hates and fears organics, ironically because of the accident that turned her into a techno-organic. The last time he saw her, she tried to kill him after he rejected her. And she used to be a Decepticon. If he discovers we’ve been sheltering her and keeping secrets from him… it won’t be good.”

“Well, from what you’ve said about your Optimus and your Ratchet, I think they’ll have it covered. Though I wouldn’t mind if you made it back before that happened, ‘cause I’d quite like to be there. For… moral support.” Intimidation, more likely. Wheeljack, despite being one of the smaller ‘bots in Team Prime, was taller than Sentinel and carried an impressive pair of katanas. And took no scandium from his own superiors, let alone someone like Sentinel “Magnus”.

“Now that’d be something to see.” Perhaps from a safe distance. But it wouldn’t happen if Glitch didn’t survive long enough to go home, and to that end she returned her attention to the new design for her mods, checking it over one last time before asking Ratchet for his approval. A joint effort by a soldier and a scientist – or, perhaps, by two people who were both a little of each.

#transformers prime #transformers animated #fanfic #tfp wheeljack #autobot oc #misplaced medic au

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not-a-moose-in-disguise · 1 year ago

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Ok, I typed this out while sleep deprived so it may not make the most sense. Nevertheless here are the notes i promised:

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Basic worldbuilding for TFP and G-F Crossover Fic I want to write.

G-F is set in 2012

Tfp is set in 2010 i think.

-For plot reasons this obvs wouldnt work, would need to be after G-F season 2 (Bots in weirdmageddon is too much im sorry) also would like the town to be more aware. IE the bots kinda being an open secret.

-the kids would have to be established with the bots i think, but i also like the silo as a location, so im not sure on the timing for that.

-The decepticons: aight i want to make this a "the decepticons HAD a point" verse. Megatron is an irredeemable warlord, starscream is gonna be a semi-sympathetic character, he could never defect to the bots but he could leave the cons, maybe to set up a new VOS? I do like the idea of him being the last seeker though, its angsty sue me. Knockout x breakdown, they like ducktecktive.

Soundwave, right im not sure for him, he is great when all dad but i don't know how i would characterise that.

Think he would like the mystery twins, he doesnt much like the autobots but i can see him and mable getting on. She would knit him a sweater and he would love it. They remind him of Rumble and Frenzy. :(

(tfa swindle gotta meet stan. NO im not sorry)

WORLDS COLLIDE

how? -Cons/bots detect massive amounts of energon in oregon, meet STEVE/ 5T3V3

-Mech is there or something, looking for Fords tech, fowler goes there and sees the weird stuff (Maybe Powers/Triggger work for fowler?)

-OR: -June wants to go on a relaxing holiday away from the stress, they go camping -Raf somehow get in contact with Dipper, covering up traces of the Bots online comes across Dippers guide to the unexplained (I think thats implied to be something Dipper puts on the internet.) aftermath from when the agents tried to investigate. Raf finds dippers internet series (guide to the unexplained) and fowler is intrigued.

I like the idea of this going thru Raf or Miko, miko is adventuorus which fits GF and Raf is just a cutie patootie.

OOH connect the three

So, A lull in con activity and everyone is a bit stressed. Jack suggests a vacay, Miko says thrash monkey is playing woodstick, Raf follows by saying he has a Friend over in Oregon who it would be cool to meet.

----> I want Soos to understand bumblebee, if for nothing else than i think it would be nice

Becomes a day trip for Miko to concert, Raf hangs out with the twins doing normal 12 year old hijinks (same age as the Twins) and jack stays in cabin of some sort with June.

Should a bot go with them? . Miko Could take bulk maybe, Arcee Should go with jack and June, as a protector and to get to know June better. - Like it makes sense June would want to get to know Arcee better seeing as Jack hangs out with her.

Now who should spill secret first?

BOTS revealed: Soos loves it, Dipper faints, Mabel starts designing "Mega-jumbo-sized sweaters" Ford maybe might know of them already, Stan wants to do a ponzi scheme on Bud Gleeful. Wendy finds the bots cool, thinks even Tambri would be impressed. I think she would like Miko given how wild she is. (WheelJack friends with Wendy?- I feel like there could be some good chemistry there)

Gravity Falls weirdness reveal to the bots: -the bots get to freak out at the supernatural and the twins can be nonchalant towards the humans until Miko says bulk could kick whatever monsters ass and Dipper gets confused.

----> Dipper talking about gremgoblin Miko: Ahh man, wish me and Bulk' were there, we could have taken it down wrecker style! Nuthin scares a Wrecker!! Dipper: Bulk? Whos that like Jaspers resident monster hunter? (suspicous) Miko: Has just blown cover Uhhhhhhh…

Prime would like the journal, archivist instincts. ratchet would hate the weirdness, but be grouchy-friends with stan. Bulkhead, soos and wheeljack would get on i think. Arcee would prob have some sort of comradeship with Wendy.

Tambri inexplicably somehow already knows Soundwave, (She sends the CRAZIEST texts!)

PLOT DEVICES/ REACTIONS

I imagine they would all be horrified by even the concept of GIF-fany let alone that she exists, A sparkless yandere that can hijack machinery and electronics? could she hijack the bots??

if so i imagine that would be bot nightmare fuel oooh oooh idea!

i imagine it would be kinda like a possesion scenario where the bot is still lucid just not in control.

She is a bit OP so would need limitations… Cant just transfer wirelessly, like inti things that arent internet connected i mean, she can use wires and stuff. OR IS SHE EVEN SPARKLESS? SPARKS ARE ENERGY AND SHE IS CODE-- CODE IS ELCTRICITY-- IS SHE LIKE A FORMLESS SPARK..?? -- hmmmm can she even be tried to be adopted?? OOOh does she steal like a protoform that starscream has stashed for clone round 2?...

Those size changey crystal things? Ratchet would research them, anything to give a leg up on the CONS! if they can be smaller without using mass displacement they can make their energon stores last longer. Means the bots could be human sized for shennangians. Or are able to shrink the cons. I dread to think what would happen if the cons found them out. Nothing good.

The Manotaurs would find the wreckers cool.

Optimus would like how peaceful the woods can be. The high trees remind him of the crystal gardens in Iacon, not the big main one. The smaller one that was special to him and Elita, the one only he remembers. The idea that the townspeople of gravity falls just roll with the weirdness makes him hopeful that one day humanity at large can be friends with Cybertron.

Miko:(inexplicably likes robbies music)

Fowler: Is enamoured with Greasy's Diners Coffee. - When he learns of the Blind eye is simultaneously horrified with the ethics (DOES THE GOVERENMENT HAVE THIS) and also jealous (would save him SO much paperwork) - When he realises the whole town is AWARE of the weirdness he almost has a panic attack. The "Never mind all that! Law" is the best hes ever heard- (civillians managing their OWN coverup… and well! WITHOUT HIM HAVING TO DO PAPERWORK??!!. Fowler heaven right there) ( Fowler calls Bryce and tries to get him to use his Fed connections to make the Prez extend this local law nationally . Bryce: wtf")

Knockout: Is in love with the gravity falls public access tv, it has the funniest horror films hes ever seen (The man with no taste!)

Swindle: Is SO jealous of the dumbness of Stans customers its not even funny just sad.

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

I apologise for the lack of structure, its literally just a stream of consciousness. Still though i think this is a crossover that's really slept on so I thought I would share my ideas for it

So here are some TFP X Gravity Falls crossover starter ideas I am yet to do something with (I want to write this I swear) I think I talked about this before: nevertheless my ideas.

1) Miko wants to go to a Slash Monkey concert: their next concert is at Woodstick festival . (The one from the love god episode)

More to come- I made the notes on my laptop and I’m typing this on mobile at a pub

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #gravity falls crossover #gravity falls #gravity falls x tfp #transformers crossover #I said i would update wit what was on the laptop #But yeah sorry for the formatting- i literally just copy pasted the notes document into tumblr #maccadam #gravity falls x transformers

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aparticularbandit · 5 years ago

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me: i still have 1k to write even though i already reached my monthly goals because i want to try and keep up this 2k thing also me: but i don’t want to write more in the roisa hp au and maybe want to put off the owlery scene until tomorrow (or maybe monday since tomorrow would be for the monday update). also me: and i don’t want to officially start writing my roisa secret santa prompt until december me: so what do want to write also me: not epic superhero crossover yet because want something not big brain me: so what do want also me: what about emilia antonia me: cool also me: or the raf fic for soulmate timer au me: pick. one.

#musings #bandit writes fic #roisa hp au #epic superhero crossover #emilia antonia #soulmate timer au #roisa secret santa #am tired #want something not big brain #and while have already started the raf fic #kind of leaning towards emilia antonia #especially since y'all specifically /asked/ for it

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onthewaytosomewhere · 5 months ago

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WIP Acrostic Game

ok - so i got a few tags for this over the weekend (and i do luv me a tag game) so i have multiple words for it luckily some of those words share letters - so they'll also share sentences - in THE ONLY FIC I'M OPENNG TODAY - BCUZ IT NEEDS TO BE FINISHED LOLZ (the were/vamp coffee shop (with bonus soulmates that snuck up on me) fic) - also hoping this will make me get ready to whip the words out for this thing lolz

💚thanks bunches for the tags @cha-melodius @caterpills @tailsbeth-writes @fullerthanskippy @anincompletelist

@littlemisskittentoes @kiwiana-writes @sophie1973 @stellarmeadow

HUGE OPEN TAG TO ANYONE WHO MAY NOT HAVE ALREADY DONE THIS OVER THE WEEKEND (and a few tags under the cut for a few peeps just in case lolz)

Rules: From your story/WIP, find sentences that start with each letter of the given word. (oops i forgot the rules lolz)

MY WORD(S): BOLT, PACE, FORK, FIRST, RUSH, FAME, FANG, RINGS - YOUR WORD: SHOP

B -Before becoming one himself, his only contact with any of them had been his sister, June, and her wife, Nora. O -Only a few months in, he has an established overnight rotation of regulars, and they all help each other navigate life in the city. L -Let’s just say that my last case was against some fuckwad werewolf fratboys who had beaten my client, and I realized I wasn’t above a little vigilante justice if they hadn’t been found guilty. T - To this day, he’s afraid that if that hadn’t been the case, he might not have been able to fight the urge to get justice of his own for her. (the fact that there's 2 sentences about this from 2 different parts makes me giggle lolz)

P - Please forget I said that. A - Alex, sometimes, on slow nights, finds himself drawn to just standing behind the counter and watching as Henry is engrossed in what he’s working on that night. C - Completing the bond does not actually require ‘third-date activities’ if you so choose. E - Either way, he feels as if they’re one—as if they’re not separate beings but two parts of one whole.

F - From what we were told when we had you checked out, the fact that you’re a werewolf is the only reason you are alive currently. O - SEE ABOVE R -Raf understands as a lycan himself, but having been born one, he has more control, not just from the years of experience. K - NONE

F - SEE ABOVE I - I was here in this club, and there was this guy … R - SEE ABOVE S - So, while the sign reads ‘closed’ after 9 pm, you can say that is when the real “nightlife” happens. T - SEE ABOVE

R - SEE ABOVE U - Unfortunately, what Liam told you about my family and their messed-up rules about claiming vamps we sire is true S - SEE ABOVE H - He hates to think about it, but he still wonders if the realization hadn’t happened if he might still be working his way to partner in Raf’s law firm.

F - SEE ABOVE A - SEE ABOVE M - Might as well get a jump on making sure everything is ready for Nora and the morning crowd, as it looks like this will be one of his slower nights. E - SEE ABOVE

F - SEE ABOVE A - SEE ABOVE N - Nora thinks the irony that Alex’s big bi-revelation leads to him being turned means something. G - Granted, some of it he ‘overhears’ due to enhanced senses, but anything too sensitive, he’s learned to keep to himself.

R - SEE ABOVE I - SEE ABOVE N - SEE ABOVE G - SEE ABOVE S - So he waits for Henry to speak again, letting the silence hang between them. (this letter was already used as well but i felt bad this word had no sentences lolz)

💚tag ur it!! @adreamareads @typicalopposite @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @thinkof-england @piratefalls

@priincebutt @judasofsuburbia @suseagull04

just in case you didn't already do this!! 😘💚

now i'm off to switch the laundry and finish this thing lolz

#wip acrostic game #wip acrostic tag #moonlight coffee shop #lots of words

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plaidbooks · 4 years ago

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I saw something on Pinterest that Tinkerbell said: "If you have to choose between me and her, choose her. Because if you really loved me, there wouldn't be any other choice." I was wondering if reader could say that to barba bc he was choosing between her or yelina?

Too High of a Price

A/N: This fic takes place just after Rafael and reader graduate Harvard (so, they’re in their early/mid 20s). This is also an angst with no happy ending. But! I can be convinced to write a part 2 with a happier ending. I...may have thought about it already. Anyways, enjoy.

Tags: angst, fighting about expenses, cheating

Words: 1237

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @shroomiehomie @glimmerglittergirl @alwaysachorusgirl @joanofarkansass @redlipstickandplaid @detective-giggles @prurientpuddlejumper @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @madamsnape921 @dianilaws @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

You had thought that cramming for Finals, preparing for the JD, and prepping for the bar put a serious strain on yours and Rafael’s relationship. And once you both passed, you were hoping that you could both move in together—start your lives. That everything would calm down. But oh, how wrong you were.

“Raf, what’s this charge for $1400?” you asked, furious.

He glanced at you. “I bought a new suit, since now I’m in the DA’s office in Brooklyn—”

“We don’t have the funds for that! We’re barely able to afford our apartment!”

“It was a necessary purchase! I have to dress for the job!”

You rolled your eyes. “You have three suits! We need to save—” “I know, okay! I know!” he roared back. You both stood, glaring at each other. Finally, Rafael sighed. “I’m sorry; I don’t mean to yell. Let’s just…. It’s late; let’s go to bed.”

“I-I can’t see you right now, Raf. I’m sleeping on the couch,” you replied, already exhausted. This wasn’t the first fight about money, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. After Harvard, you both found a cheap apartment. And while Rafael had found a job with the DA’s office, you were having a much harder time. Plus, the fact that he had struggled too; this DA’s job was a godsend.

“Fine, okay. I have work tomorrow morning; can we talk afterwards? Please?” he muttered, looking as tired as you felt.

“Yeah. Sure.” At this point, you just wanted to get to sleep. Rafael nodded, heading towards the bedroom. You grabbed the extra blanket you kept in the hall closet and made yourself comfortable on the couch. But you couldn’t sleep, the fight still fresh in your mind. So instead, you thought about your relationship with Rafael.

You had met in your second year at Harvard, both of you falling hard for each other. You had been in the honeymoon phase for so long, only snapping at each other when you were stressed with schoolwork. But you loved him deeply, and he loved you, too.

Ever since you started living together, though—outside of your separate dorm rooms and actually together—it seemed like nonstop fighting. Sure, you still loved each other, but with money being tight, and job hunting failing, your relationship was filled with stress and screaming. It didn’t help that Rafael still talked to his ex-girlfriend, Yelina. She had dumped him for his best friend about a year before he met you, and a small part of you thought that you were a rebound.

Rafael would take long breaks from talking to her—in fact, he never reached out. It was always Yelina that got into contact with him. But if her name flashed on his phone with an incoming call, he would always take it. And asking him about it just led to more fighting. Truth be told, you missed the “easy” days in college, back when you and Rafael were so enchanted with each other. Nowadays, you hardly touched each other outside of a quick peck goodbye, or cuddling in bed while you slept.

********************

You woke up when you heard Rafael moving around the apartment, but you pretended to sleep through it. You could tell he was trying to keep quiet, his footsteps soft. You didn’t want to talk to him yet, though—you were still mad about him buying a new suit, especially without discussing it with you first. If he had been hiding that from you, what else could he be hiding?

The front door opened and closed, the lock turning from the outside. You waited for the footsteps to disappear down the hall before you sat up. You headed for the shower, letting the hot water run over you. And then, you hit the web, trying to find anyone hiring Harvard grads.

After sending off a few applications, you sat back, thinking about Rafael. Were you really mad at him for buying the suit? Or were you upset that he felt the need to hide it from you? Not discussing it with you beforehand. And was it really that big of a deal?

Sighing and feeling guilty, you decided to make and bring Rafael lunch—an olive branch. You didn’t plan on hashing things out at his work, but you thought it’d be nice to eat lunch together, to show him you weren’t mad anymore.

********************

You showed up to the DA’s offices, a paper bag in hand. You hadn’t texted him beforehand, hoping to surprise Rafael. But his cubicle was empty. Leaving the bag on his desk, you asked the paralegal that sat next to him if she had seen him.

“Oh, Rafael? He went to the bathroom. Down that hall and to the left,” she replied happily. You thanked her and headed off in the direction she indicated. The bathroom was a single toilet, and the door was locked.

You were debating if you should knock or not when you heard a noise from inside. You froze; it sounded suspiciously like…. Placing your ear against the door, you heard it again, and this time, you knew exactly what it was. A muffled moan, and a shushing.

You knocked on the door, face burning. Don’t be Rafael, don’t be Rafael, you thought over and over again. There was silence from within, then a shuffling of clothes. Time seemed to slow as you waited. The heavy lock turned, then the door handle.

A very red-faced Rafael stood in the doorway, his hair mussed and his tie slightly crooked. Your heart stopped when his eyes locked to yours, filled with shame and remorse.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” he asked softly, eyes dropping to look at the floor.

“Who’s in there with you?”

He seemed to shrink in on himself. “N-no one—”

You pushed him out of your way and stuck your head in the bathroom. Yelina stood there, not looking in the least upset about being caught with your boyfriend. Her hair was a mess, and her dress was still hiked up on her hips.

“Oh,” you breathed, pulling your head back out of the bathroom. You wanted to rage, you wanted to rip Rafael apart. But instead, you felt nothing. A hollowness deep in your chest.

You turned to walk away, your mind shutting off, your body on autopilot. “Cariño, wait,” Rafael said, reaching out for you.

“I’m…going to my parent’s place. Don’t try and come over,” you mumbled. “I’ll come pick up my stuff later.”

He called your name, but you didn’t hear it. “Please! I-I made a mistake! Please can we talk about this?”

“If you have to choose between me and her, choose her. Because if you really loved me, there wouldn’t be any other choice,” you said, turning back to look at him. “Besides, it’s obvious that you choose her.”

Rafael had no response as you turned and left the building. Yelina came up behind him, kissing his cheek, and telling him that Alex was out of town, if Rafael wanted to stop by that night to finish what they started. But he didn’t hear her; all he heard was the sound of his relationship dying.

Shrugging Yelina off, he went back to his desk, ignoring the stares he received from his coworkers. But the tears started the moment he saw the paper bag, opening it to find a homemade lunch.

#rafael barba x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing #I know I've said I can't picture Rafael cheating #but I have a whole other backstory for this fic #including Raf's pov #Anonymous

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writefasttalkevenfaster · 4 years ago

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Rafael Barba / I Want to See You

Summary: the Beard Barba Fic™ - Rafael’s been away in Iowa and he shows you just how much he misses you

Prompts: “there’s no way I’m gonna let you wear that in public” ‘why not?’ “cause It would be a shame to rip it off in front of a hundred people” + ”you aren’t taking me to bed….ever.” ‘who said it had to be a bed?’

Warnings: E (minors DNI), smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation (m + f), so much dirty talk, use of lingerie, no pronouns (reader has a v), beard kink

Word Count: 2,676

I want to see you.

That text message arrived at 11:36 PM — right as you walked through the door of your apartment — it had been a difficult week of work, that gave way to a work wrought weekend. You dropped your bag on the entryway table, hanging your coat up, kicking your shoes off, before typing a reply.

Then you shouldn’t have left for Iowa.

The reply was almost immediate, your lips curling in a smile —

I haven’t been away so long that NYC has taken away WI-FI and video calling, have I?

You evaded my statement, counselor, don’t think I’m going to let you get away that easily, you step into your living room, leaning against the lip of an armrest on your couch, I didn’t realize our relationship extended beyond the parameters of when you were in New York.

This one takes him a moment — and you wonder if you’ve scared him off, but would it be so bad? You didn’t know what this was to begin with. A series of one night stands that blossomed into what — a relationship, friends with benefits — but did friends with benefits spend nights talking about cases, about life, about family?

You didn’t know.

But then he responds — It does, when I miss you.

And you bite back a smile, and that was all the answer you needed for now.

And then he added — and by the way, it wasn’t a request. I want to see you.

You snort. Just as bossy as ever — take the prosecutor out of New York, but you can’t take the Ivy League out of him. You open the message, leaving him on read — and just for that — you grabbed your towel from the bedroom, slipping into your bathroom, he would have to wait.

You strip your clothes off slowly as the shower warms, your phone in the bathroom with you because you couldn’t resist keeping the counselor so close, yet so far. You dare a peek at your lock screen just as you are about to step in —

Are you teasing me, cariño?

I know you want to just as much as I do.

And there’s a picture — you bite your lip, a thick heat settling over you as you open it. Cuffs of his button up are undone sleeves pushed up to his elbow, but that isn’t the only thing unbuttoned — his untucked button down hangs open, dark hairs barely visible leading down to a bulge in his slacks and his belt undone, the metal buckle glinting in the dim light of his bedroom.

Fuck, he didn’t play fair, did he?

But then again, when did he?

The first time he took you was the night that the two of you lost a case, a consolatory drink turned confrontation, ending with you calling him an arrogant bastard — the words spat with the frustration achingly rooted in your chests.

And then he kissed you — only a moment before parting, his breath sharp as he blinks, before you swallow any excuses on his tongue with your lips. And he melted into your touch, your fingers fisted in his now creased suit coat, before curling around his suspenders. His hand gripped your neck, pulling you closer, all teeth and tongue, sneaking his way into your mouth the very same way he did your heart — at once.

(Not that you would ever admit it).

And then another text: are you wet?

The steam from your hot shower began to cling to the air, and it gave you an idea — why not repay the favor?

You step into the shower, holding your phone outside the shower head’s radius, the hot water soothing your aching shoulders, and take a photo — and write:

Is that wet enough for you, counselor?

And then you shower, smiling to yourself as you do, but the ache in you doesn’t subside — you keep thinking about him, what he would do in this shower with you — how he would press you against the cool tile as he parted your legs with his knee, his thick fingers trailing slowly up your thigh, while his lips re-familiarize themselves with your neck, ghosting over your collarbone, before sucking. You whimper as his fingers would ghost over your slick — just as your fingers did now — and his lips would circle back to your lips just as his name left your lips in a gasp when a finger slips in, as if he was tasting his name on your mouth.

The first press of his fingers is slow — his thumb avoiding your clit with delicate precision — instead one of his fingers presses, ever present but unmoving, and he would murmur in your ear, “Look at you, you’re dripping and we’ve barely even started,” a sweet kiss to your temple, as a large palm lifts your leg around his waist, just as another finger slips in, “what do you think? Should I make you cum with my fingers or my mouth first?”

“Raf—” and that’s when his thumb would brush against your clit, and you’re jumping against him, his hardness now against your thigh, “fuck.”

“That’s the idea, isn’t it?” his voice is low, and his fingers would tilt your head up just as he brings to thrust his fingers — just as you are now — but his fingers would be thicker than yours are, his weight pressed against you deliciously as your hips roll against his fingers, “so good for me,” and you keen at the praise, your back pressed against the cool tile. And his mouth would travel from your lips, trace the curve of your cheek and chin, a kiss between your breasts, down your stomach, and one to your hip. And his breath would warm right where you wanted him, your fingers curling in his wet curls, usually tamed by a comb and gel, but no one got to see Rafael Barba on his knees, but you did — and what a sight it was — especially now.

Because his face wouldn’t be smooth like before — no, because he’s let himself grow a beard — not the five o’clock shadow that found its way between your legs on a particularly difficult case — no, this was a beard that he’s allowed himself to have now that his services were no longer needed in court so often. A grizzled beard helped him wear away that prestige that is written all over his demeanor when in Iowa, and one that you hoped he would keep — keep long enough to scrape against your skin delightfully, his mouth around your—

And then your phone begins to ring and buzz — you ignore it, fingers deep, until a nagging morally sound voice in the back of your head reminds you that it could be about a case. You slump against your shower wall, grabbing for your phone, after rinsing your hand and shutting off the water.

You barely have enough time to pick up before he speaks, “How long are you going to make me wait?” his words are a growl as debauched and dark as you were his sure his eyes were.

“I was taking a shower,” but you hear him pant, and any shred of teasing wears away, “are you touching yourself for me?”

He grunts, and you know he is, you can hear him, almost see him — his hand curled around himself, erect and weeping, his eyes squeezed shut while he thrusts into his hand, imagining that it was yours instead. And you wished it was, pressing kisses to his head, thrown back against the headrest, swallowing his moans with your lips.

“What if I am?” he replies, an expletive leaving his mouth soon after, and you knew he was desperate now, his words all bark and no bite — and you couldn’t wait to hear what other noises he would make.

“If you are, I may have a present for you,” you step out of the shower carefully, wiping yourself off, wrapping the towel around your waist, and all the while the phone balance between your shoulder and your cheek — and you could hear him, muffled curses between bitten lips, “tell me,”

“Fuck,” and it’s as if he’s a lit a match, waiting for himself to burn and take you along with him, his voice comes ragged, “I wish this was your hand around me—” he hisses, just as you slip into your bedroom, “Or better yet I wish I could fuck that pretty mouth of yours,” Control was slipping through your fingers, as you whimper at his words, “You would like that wouldn’t you? I bet you’re dripping for me? And that isn’t from the shower, is it?”

“God, Rafael—” and he moans, softly, but sharp all the same, “you can’t come until I say so,” and you can already hear him begin to protest, “didn’t you want to see me? Because I want to see you — I want to see when you come for me, my name on your lips.”

And you knew he’s biting his lip at your filthy words, “you have two minutes.”

And two minute was all you needed, pulling out a small back on top of your dresser drawer — to get dressed.

You slipped the soft fabric over your shoulders, the silk and chiffon light against your skin, and you stepped into the bottoms, pulling them on.

And you hear him calling your name, just as your tousle your hair, barely damp from your shower, and you grab your phone before slipping into your bed, “I’m ready,” and he’s already requesting to switch to video.

“Let me see you,” he’s murmuring just as you connect, and then he sees you — wrapped up in red silk, a little thing you picked up for yourself (or for his next visit — whenever that would be). His eyes can’t seem to get enough of you, as he quietly groans, “let me see the rest,” And you nod, panning the phone’s camera downward, and he sees that your fingers have already slipped inside, a dark patch already visible, “Is all that for me, sweetheart?”

You slip a finger inside and he clicks his tongue, “I didn’t say you could touch yourself,” and you know that voice — it’s the same one he uses in interrogations, the same one he uses when he’s in court doing his cross, the same one he uses when he has you under him, spread out on his bed — “I thought this was for me.”

“It is for you, sir,” and you hear him take a sharp breath, and you know he’s touching himself again, “I’ll wear it for you again when you come back to see me, after arraignments like last time, right under my clothes in court—”

“There’s no way I’m letting you wear that in public,” and you’re circling your clit now, pleasure thrumming through your body.

“Why not?”

“Because,” he leans back, a grin on his lips, “it would be a shame to rip it off in front of an entire courtroom, wouldn’t it?”

“Raf—” you whine.

“Let me see you,” he murmurs, “come on, pull it off for me, show me how wet you are, let me see your pretty pussy—” And you’re eager to oblige, slipping the silky fabric down your thighs, and he groans at the sight, “Tell me what you would want me to do,”

“Rafael,” there’s an edge of desperation in your voice, one you knew he wanted and would push much further, “please—”

“Fuck—” it’s a guttural noise ripped from his throat that makes you only push your fingers deeper, a third finger sinking in, “I’d do it much slower than that, mi amor, circle your pussy slowly, until you’re begging me to touch you,” and you could almost feel his warm breath against you, your fingers curled in his hair, “suck a pretty bruise against your thigh because you’re mine,” and he’d soothe it with his tongue, “and then fuck you with my fingers — my fingers stretching your walls better than you could.” And they would, “I would fill you, until you’re dripping—” arousal claws through you, dragging, just as his gravelled voice did, “fuck yourself, just like I would.”

“Don’t be like that, mi amor, use that tongue that you’re so good using,” and you would use it well when the bastard was with you in person — wrapped around his cock, teasing his slit, enjoying the weight of him against your tongue, his thick fingers fisted in your hair — “tell me.

“I want you to taste me,” your pussy twitches — his tongue drawing a thick stripe up the middle of your pussy, “feel your fingers digging into my thighs, your beard dragging against me, burning against my skin as your mouth wrapped around my clit.”

And you’re arching against the bed, doing as he says, and you can almost see him grin, “You teased me so much, made me wait, but you want this just as much as I do, don’t you, cariño?”

“I—” you’re keening, the throbbing between your legs unbearable, your walls beginning to flutter against your fingers.

“Tell me,”

“Fuck, Rafael, I-I want to cum on your face,” and he’s growling — you can almost see his lips and beard wet and shiny with your cum, “before you drag yourself to kiss me,” and you would taste yourself on his lips, your fingernails digging crests into his back, his body pressed against yours, the head of his cock brushing your lips, “I want you to fuck me.”

He gives a low groan, “I need to see your face, I—”

And you’re fumbling with your phone, trying to flip the fucking camera into selfie view, and just as you begin to crest, you see him — his head lolled back, mouth hanging open, his eyes growing dark as he sees you.

“I would fuck you, sink every inch into you,” and you press yourself into the mattress, as if you can feel him on top of you, his teeth grazing your neck as he thrusts into you, “until your pussy can’t forget what I feel like— so fucking tight for me—”

A hurried swear rips from his throat, and you know he’s getting close, his mouth hanging open, his eyes fluttering, the squelching sounds of his hand dragging over his cock. And you squeeze your eyes imagining that he was groaning in your ear, and your fingers were his cock now, splitting you smoothly, his balls slapping against your clit. You would feel every vein, every inch—

“Rafael— I’m so—”

“Say my name,” he’s groaning, “say my name when you cum for me.”

Your back arches as you reach that peak, and you do as he says, his name on your tongue as you cum, your walls fluttering around your fingers, his moans a delicious symphony as you come down from your high. Your fingers still, just as you hear him cum, his name wrapped around your name beautifully.

You’re laying in the bliss, the phone slipping onto your chest a moment, until you’re rolling over on your bed, laying against your pillow, “Hi,”

He snorts, “I think we’re well past that now,” and he sighs, cheeks flushed, “you know I might be getting back to New York soon,”

“Really?” and he’s already grinning at your eagerness, as you tamp down your excitement, “Why’s that?”

“Well the election fraud work I’m doing down here is wrapping up, and I figure the work I’m doing down here now are things I can do in New York,” and his lips curl, “plus, I think I just found a good reason to make a comeback.”

“Just found?” you scoff, “maybe I won’t let you take me to bed.”

And he only grins, “Who said it had to be a bed?”

~~~

Tags: @qvid-pro-qvo, @locke-writes , @teamsladsandgents, @laneygthememequeen, @bisexual-dreamer02, @averyhotchner, @murf992, @mrs-marcus-moreno, @mrsrafaelbarba, @thetruebornwildchild, @garturbo, @simxican, @serendiptious-esparza, @evrendebirben, @rawrlittlepanda-95, @that-one-failure, @the-baby-bookworm, @a-louise-juliane, @carrot-cheese-cake, @madamsnape921, @evee87, @crazyshannonigans

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagines #rafael barba x you #svu #svu imagines #svu fanfiction #rafael barba smut #law and order: SVU

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tsuki-here · 4 years ago

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So I had a bunch of ideas for a possible Transformers Prime fanfic where Starscream, Soundwave, and Knockout switch sides because I just want them to be on the good side and maybe actually happy, but unfortunately I have way too many fics already and haven't touched them in forever, so here's just a bunch of bullet points of some of the ideas I had instead, in no particular order

Soundwave

-He's the only Decepticon that has no issue befriending the kids, likely since he respects all lifeforms ever since he developed close bonds with his minicons, which most Cybertronians discredit just because of their size.

- He bonds with Miko through music, Raf through computers and programming, and he just likes that Jack is quiet, easy company. He plays video games with all three of them on weekends

-Miko abuses Soundwave's massive databanks any time she has a research project or essay for school and convinces him to write her papers for her. Her teachers all know she didn't write them, considering he goes way overboard on the details, flowery language, and never makes anything less than 20 pages, but they also can never catch her on plagiarism, so she never gets in trouble and always gets 100% on the assignment

-He never fully forgives Wheeljack for planting a grenade in Lazerbeak

-He and Ratchet both insist on helping the kids with their science projects, though it's become more about trying to outdo each other than actually helping the kids. This always ends in something far too extravagant and teetering on the edge of deadly

-He doesn't break his vow of silence to Megatron for several months after joining, and even once he does, he still communicates through recordings and images on his visor more often than not. It's a mix of old habits, and he also just finds it more comfortable and familiar

-Miko introduces him to the social media side of the internet which he had always glossed over as unimportant before. Now he uses memes, terrible grammar, and text emojis as part of daily life. None of the other bots understand what hes trying to say half the time. Miko couldn't stop laughing off and on for about an hour the first time he displayed "uwu" on his visor. Jack nearly choked when Soundwave said in his deep voice, completely dead serious, "look at all them chickens". Jack didn't have the heart to tell him the were seagulls. Ratchet always catches him watching cat videos on the base's main computer. Miko is very proud to be the cause of these changes

-Soundwave and Ratchet end up arguing over use of the base's main computer fairly regularly. Of course, Ratchet feels it's still his responsibility and is still a bit wary of the ex-Decepticons for a while, and Soundwave is a busybody who constantly wants to be doing something. It's become an unofficial race to see who can open a ground bridge first whenever one's called for. Both are smug and rub it in the other's face when they do it first

-He doesn't trust Optimus for a long time and is upfront about the fact that he doesn't. No one's really sure when this fact changes, since he was always polite and courteous to him anyways, but Optimus eventually won over his loyalty

Lazerbeak

-Though he rarely interacts with any of the others himself, he's still forms bonds in his own way through Soundwave's interactions with them

-He's very fond of Raf, and even detaches from Soundwave to spend time with him every so often

-He holds a grudge against Wheeljack much like Soundwave does

-The Autobots still regularly forget to refer to him as his own being, often calling him an "it" or "a drone". Though he doesn't mind much, Soundwave gets overprotective on his behalf, as well as Raf after they become friends, and even Knockout stands up for him from time to time

Knockout

-He takes a little bit to warm up to the kids, but once he does, he often watches TV with them or takes them out to drive-in theaters

-Miko once spilled a slushie on his interior at a movie and he didn't speak to her for a week

-He and Ratchet rarely get along. He thinks ratchet's too bossy, and Ratchet says Knockout's too difficult

-He goes out racing with Bumblebee and Smokescreen at least once a month

-He never really learns to get along with Bulkhead

-He likes Optimus's take on leadership more than Megatron's; the Decepticon leader was always too strict and rude

-Knockout eventually finds he can confide in Arcee about the loss of Breakdown, which he still was internally struggling to cope with, and she slowly opens up to him about her own grief over Cliffjumper's death. No one else knows they're basically counseling each other

Starscream

-He takes by far the longest to adjust to the Autobots, but he starts to make more steady progress once it finally starts to set in that it isn't any sort of trap

-He never really befriends the kids, but he does learn to not treat them as inferior beings after enough warnings and corrections from the Autobots [namely Optimus and Bulkhead]

-At first he tries to suck up to Optimus much like he would to Megatron, partially out of hoping to gain his trust so that he could always turn on him if it became necessary and partially out of fear of being punished for not being respectful and submissive enough. Optimus remains patient and friendly, hoping to ease him out of his instincts of always being in survival mode

-Optimus constantly has to remind him that calling him "lord" is entirely unnecessary, and expresses concern any time Starscream flinches or jumps around him. Starscream starts to feel internally guilty about the obstacles Optimus goes through for his sake, not that he'd ever admit to it. This guilt fades as he becomes more at ease and breaks out of the old habits Megatron had instilled in him

-Though no one would have expected it, Arcee is actually one of the first Autobots to really start giving Starscream a chance at friendship, after Optimus and Bumblebee. It started off simply because Knockout claimed Starscream was technically his best friend within the Decepticons, and she wanted to try to be nicer for Knockout's sake. She hadn't expected that Starscream would actually be nice in return, and made for a witty, albeit sarcastic, friend. Starscream, Knockout, and Arcee often end up on missions together from that point on, as they actually work very well in a group

I'm sure I could keep adding to this forever if I kept thinking for long enough, but yeah- Maybe one day I'll write a Transformers fic, but life is far too busy at the moment, haha. I hope at least someone found this interesting, or inspiring for a story themselves! Maybe I'll make a part two or other similar posts in the future

#tfp #transformers #transformers prime #soundwave #starscream #knockout #lazerbeak #au #headcanons #decepticons #autobots #more ideas for stories I'll never write #more than likely anyways

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