#bringing the music cue in the moment it’s called for

[stone-stars]

oberon: “i realize now that there are greater threats to the wild than humanity” [mothership (song) begins playing immediately] ITS JUST SO GOOD.

[littlexdeaths]

stage tech eddie munson x actress reader

warnings: modern!college au, lots of making out

y’all can blame this brain rot i’m currently having on a conversation i had with @rebelfell about techie eddie that ended up spawning all of this… thanks sarah for indulging me xx. 😘

also big kisses to @taintandviolent and @uglypastels for giving this a look over for me <3

“hey— sweetheart. you’re gonna miss your cue.”

eddie all but mumbles against your lips as you pull him in even closer, your bodies wedged between the heavy stage curtains.

“don’t care,” you reply almost breathlessly, allowing your lips to trail over his neck.

you are no longer interested in listening for the inevitable call of ‘veronica?’ to leave barb’s microphone. the music begins to swell just as you are supposed to rush out on stage to finish off the opening number.

while robin was initially supposed to help you with your quick change, when you rushed off stage you were surprised (and delighted) to find eddie in her place instead. the male gave you a cheeky grin as he had your blazer and skirt combo draped over his arm.

but the way his eyes continued to linger a little too long on your half naked figure once you slipped your costume up over your head— would only spell out trouble for both of you.

which was how you ended up half-dressed, blue blazer dangling off your shoulder and your lips smashed against his own. his hands tug you inevitably closer, rings digging into the meat of your hips while he effectively steals the air from your lungs.

your fingers grip tightly onto the cotton of his black t-shirt, feeling the heat radiating from his chest beneath the worn fabric. your lips eagerly drag across the thick skin of his throat, sucking harsh bruises onto the pale skin there.

this had been building for weeks— it had all started when eddie had offered to help you with your scene work. the male almost too eager to have you in his lap, grinding on him while you belted out the lyrics to dead girl walking.

but he’d had his eye on you from the moment you walked into that first rehearsal, all bright eyed and giddy. the more he saw you blossom under the glow of the stage lights, the more he wanted to call you his. little did he know that you felt the same way, despite your initial reservations.

the cast and crew should never mix— that’s what you were always told.

however your eyes would always seek out his lanky figure in the light booth during rehearsals. and you’d ‘accidentally’ leave your prop package of red vines out for him to steal, just to have an excuse to go up to booth to see him. only for him to hold them hostage above your head, dimples on full display as you fought to get them back.

but when you had to kiss your on stage JD— all you could think about how much better his lips would feel slotted against yours. and eddie can’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over him after you receive some feedback that the passion between you and jonathan was less than stellar.

but that low burning jealousy would rear it’s ugly head when you steadily began to improve.

wanton hands would paw at each other hungrily, those once dull kisses becoming increasingly more passionate with each rehearsal. and that blissful expression that flitted over your features while you gazed into the warmth of jonathan’s eyes has eddie crumbling the pages of his script beneath his fists.

but if this sudden improvement was because you were picturing eddie during your scenes together, no one was the wiser.

the mutual pining between you was palpable and downright maddening, to everyone involved in the production. so if some of them began to scheme a little behind the scenes to bring you two together, neither of you were aware of this recent development.

but everything finally come to a head with the culmination of what your cast mates so lovingly called, hell week. with the stress of opening night looming over your head, and the ever mounting tension between you two— it didn’t take much for your remaining resolve to crumble.

so when he gave you that look, all bets were off.

when eddie desperately tugs your mouth back to his, any worries that you shouldn’t be getting involved with one of your crew members is thrown out the window with each heated press of his lips. you can taste the lingering cigarette on his tongue and you’re engulfed in the musky, spicy scent that is so distinctly eddie when he reaches up to cup your cheek in his palm.

you are so wrapped up in each other that you don’t notice when the music stops abruptly and the burst of confused chatter erupts on the stage. eddie just pulls you in closer, eagerly swallowing the small whine that leaves your lips. the two of you only manage to pull apart when you hear nancy’s annoyed voice ringing out from behind the curtains.

“where the hell is veronica?”

you are a flurry of limbs and fabric as you struggle to pull on the rest of your costume, eddie’s rings accidentally getting caught in your hair during the process. he presses a soft kiss to your forehead in a silent apology before pushing you toward the bright lights of the stage.

you subtly wipe the gloss that was smeared across the corner of your mouth when you rush back out from behind the curtains. unaware that your blazer was buttoned incorrectly in your haste to finish dressing.

“sorry! costume malfunction! can we run it from the bridge?” you ask innocently.

nancy gives you a disapproving look from her stage manager’s seat, flipping the pages of her script back with a raised brow. you’re just thankful the director wasn’t here for this run through— or you’d have your ass chewed out for missing your big entrance.

“alright from the top of the bridge people, places!” she calls.

everyone utters a ‘thank you places’, while you duck back behind the curtain to get into position.

you can feel how flushed you are, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. whether that was from the way his lips were pressed against your own or the melting warmth of the stage lights, was hard to say. but you manage to catch his eye as he makes his way past you and the male can’t help but grin despite himself.

“don’t miss that cue again, sweet thing.” he teases, giving your ass a little pat before continuing on his way back towards the light booth.

[jeonitopia]

BABY TIME

🪐 bts x f! pregnant! reader (separate)

🪐 headcanons // fluff+angst

☆ warnings: none except maybe no beta read !

a/n: potential part 2 for when the baby is born? depends on if people like this.. also just short hcs bcuz well.. i overdid myself and did all 7 in one post... sigh (i made tis longer than it was supposed to be wtf)

☆KIM SEOKJIN

"Aishh! you already had chocolate earlier!"

constantly watching your diet, making sure all your vitamin and certain intakes are proper

"Jin I'm craving ramyeon with milk mixed in.." "WHAT"

catching him ask his mom what she needed and what she wouldve done if she got pregnant again (he has no shame)

he's an absolute prince in your child's eyes

when he has to leave, he calls you at least every 2 hours and if he can't, he messages you!! (asking for pics of you and the baby)

in love with role-playing with the child, wether it be king and princess, or knights and bandits (you're the damsel in distress)

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆MIN YOONGI

honestly, he was terrified of being a father because of his experience with his own father

once he realized the whole weight of the situation, he understood that he WILL be a good (and supportive) father because you are with him

learning that your child also has a thing for music

absolutely bringing your baby to the studio and letting him have his own crib next to his producing set-up

has noise cancelling headphones for the baby if he has to record something or when he's going to fully focus on producing

(of course has the volume on his headphones a medium volume so he can hear if the baby wakes up)

made a joke about how in daechwita, you'd be his empress and the baby is the heir

cue him posting a photo of the three of you in traditional hanbok (yoongi in daechwita outfit, without the long hair because baby will be upset)

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆JUNG HOSEOK

always taking photos of your progress

"look here!"

he always tries to keep you active

massages all day everydayyy

you got him to chill with the dance practices so that he both doesnt overwork himself AND you get to spend more time with him

absolutely doing the silliest things to entertain the baby

it's obvious who the favorite is 😐

showing dance moves to the baby and doing silly faces

has a picture of the three of you in hope world, he loves staring at it and just being grateful for his family

he's j-hope, you're bae-hope, baby is mini/baby-hope

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆KIM NAMJOON

songs containing references and metaphors that relate to you and the baby (not that he DIDNT do this before)

maybe even a whole mini-album dedicated to your journey into parenthood, each song created throughout your progress till your due date

he did his thorough research on pregnancy and things related to it and constantly gives you advice

when the baby is old enough for long distance rides, family trips are a common thing

loves cradling the baby and blabbering about an art piece they're standing in front of

you're so in love? help???

he has 3 lil plants, the 3rd plant being a new sprout that he likes to say is the baby (it sprouted the day the baby was born?? omg???)

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆PARK JIMIN

you became an absolute princess the moment he found out you were pregnant

wonders if the baby would grow up to have the same fingers as his papa mochi

already planning to convince the baby to try a martial art or a type of dancing so he and his papa can have multiple ways of bonding

dropping hints about the baby mochi on some of his lives

one time he asked if he can try your breastmilk

😐😑😐

teasing him about how when the baby holds his fingers, they look the same

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆KIM TAEHYUNG

honestly you'd have around 2-3 kids

but this is your first one, taehyung is honestly nervous

absolutely SURE he wants to be a father but more worried on if he'd be a good one

at this point, he'd also be another baby

"Ack, my feet hurt quite a bit.." "AREYOUALRIGHT?DOYOUNEEDTOGOTOTHEHOSPITAL??ILLCALLDOCTORPARK"

you personally think he might be the one more stressed even when he isnt the one carrying the baby

2nd questioner of wifey's breast milk taste

yeontan and the baby being bestfriends

yeontan has super instincts and starts going wild when he feels the baby is about to start crying

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆JEON JUNGKOOK

he watched the movie Up with taehyung and they googled why the old couple had a miscarriage, he learned it was from lead exposure

so now he keeps you away from drying walls and dusty areas and even has a small baggy filled with masks and cleansing tissue

he calls it "baby protection protocal"

surprisingly very calm and responsible! (hes trying to win your trust so that he can spoil your child rotten)

absolutely DROPS the fact that he is having a child and dragged you into the view of the live

3rd questioner of wifey's breast milk taste

baby plays with daddy's lip ring because he finds it really cool

baby also thinks daddy's sleeve tattoo is cool and always wants to slobber his saliva on it

baby wants to ride on bam's back??? 😭😭😭😭

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER ONE

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

warnings maraye’s b*****end

May 2025 — New York City, New York

“5 minutes, Carter! You’re on in 10!” I hear my manager, Kaylee, speak from behind me. She didn’t even look up from her phone.

I’m seated backstage at The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon getting ready to go out on stage for my segment of the show. My ready room is packed. Heavy makeup cases and hair products sit on the vanity and nearby tables. My hair and makeup and stylist people moving in and out of the room to get me picture perfect.

“I’ll see you when you get off. Good luck out there, beautiful.” 

“Thank you.” I respond, feeling a soft pair of lips press against my cheek.

It’s my— I don’t even know what to call him— boyfriend, Julian. We’d been going out for a bit , no longer than around three months, but nothing had been made officially-official yet. His full head of curly brown hair tickles my eyebrow when he kisses me, bringing a flush to my already pinked cheeks. He walks out of the ready room, I assume to his seat out in the audience alongside my sister Casandra. 

My hand goes up to my cheek, up against where his lips left a sloppy mark against my makeup. My makeup artist, Tyler, swats my hand away before I can smudge what he just spent two hours working on. 

“He’s gonna ask you about him.” Kaylee’s voice cuts through the air.

“What?”

“Jimmy. He’s gonna ask you about Julian. Not directly, of course, but he’ll ask if you have a muse and blah blah blah.” Her work phone slips into the back pocket of her wind leg jeans. The click of the black heels on her feet grow louder as she approaches me. “Don’t answer, say you get inspired by a ton of things but not anyone in particular.”

My face twists up. “Why should I do that?”

Kaylee sighs. We’ve talked about this a multitude of times, and I can tell it irritates her more and more each time I pry. My career is based on sharing my most vulnerable and intimate moments with people all over the world. I didn’t mind sharing if someone had influenced my music or not.

“It keeps the interview focused on you and how amazing you’ve been so far this year. If you do that, it’s gonna be about your relationship. You don’t want that, I promise you.” Kaylee explains.

I nod understandably, but my mind thinks to the future conversation Julian and I are most likely going to have about me not claiming him publicly. A conversation we’ve had too many times for my liking, for only being a few months in.

Oh, and unofficial might I add.

The creak of the heavy white door opening pulls us out of our conversation. There’s a man in a white Polo and black slacks with a headset on. “Call time. Let’s get you out there, Maraye.” He speaks.

I nod, standing up from my seat. I quickly brush a hand over my hair, making sure that any flyaways from my jet black side part unit stay down where they should be. 

“Go get ‘em, Carter.” Kaylee encourages, rubbing my back softly and smiling her soft comforting smile.

—

“Fresh off of her first studio album release, please give a warm welcome to our next guest, Maraye!” 

The start of The Roots introduction music is my cue to walk out, and I do. The Amina Muaddi heels on my feet moving across the black stage. My dress is a nice maroon color, a sleeveless u-neck top that fits my body like a glove. 

I smile out to the live audience, waving my hand before taking a set on the blue-gray couch. The applause dies down and Jimmy looks over at me, the cover of my latest album, ‘f*** daisies' is propped up between his hands on the wood table.

“Thank you so much for having me!” I greet, crossing one of my legs over the other.

“No, thank you, for coming out! I wanna jump right into this,” he speaks. The camera pans to the album cover. “Because this album has taken the internet by storm in the last month that it’s been out.”

“Yeah. It’s been very surreal. I’ve had EP’s that have done great, but all the love on this album has been incredible.”

The audience breaks out into more cheers and applause and I feel my heart nearly triple in size.

To say my life had taken a complete 180° turn in the last five months would be an understatement. From spending last fall on tour with Kehlani, to getting my communications degree from the University of Southern California, and now the release of my album. I was truly blessed and grateful.

“What’s so impressive about all of this is that you’re only 22 years old, and you have three songs off this project that have spots on the billboard top 15.” Jimmy praises. “Out of those three—f*** daisies, SOS (Sex on Sight), and Unpredictable with your good friend Destin Conrad— which one would you say was your favorite to make?”

I take a deep breath, my eyebrows furrow with a look of thoughtfulness which makes the audience laugh.

“Probably SOS. To have Usher featured on that song was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. And I’m from Atlanta, so having an ATL legend on my first project was huge.” I answer.

“Did you, y'know, learn anything from him for future music?”

“The way he works with layering his vocals was unbelievable. I think that’s why SOS is one of my favorite works, the harmonies on that song are unreal and I give all credit to him.”

“Would you say that this song had a muse? I work for the people, so I have to ask.” Jimmy teases, and I force a smile. I could just hear Kaylee’s voice in the back of my head screaming I told you so.

I shift in my seat. My eyes bounced from him, to the man I had coined my boyfriend sitting in the audience. “I use a ton of experiences for inspiration in my music. Things that have happened to me but also to those around me.” I start.

From the corner of my eye I see Julian, the red button up that covers his shoulders and his gold cross chain keeps him in my view perfectly. He moves in his seat and I just know he’s uncomfortable, or angered, or something else that I can’t really bring myself to care about with all these cameras pointing at me right now.

“So I wouldn’t say it came from anyone in particular. I probably just had a little too much wine that night.” I joke, keeping the atmosphere lively and energetic.

Jimmy laughs and The Roots play some sort of jingle in the background, both of which make me release a breath I didn't know I had been holding. 

“Well we all can’t wait for more music from you Maraye. Everyone stay tuned, Maraye will be giving us a special performance of SOS when we come back from the break!”

—

May 2025 — Los Angeles, California 

It’s later at night, 9pm when I finally take a seat on my living room couch. The recently rented apartment smelled like vanilla thanks to the candle Rickea decided to light while I was grabbing the pizza.

Why my teammate decided to surprise visit me when I could be resting for our season opener tomorrow night was beyond me. I thought it must be a little rookie hazing, messing me up for the first game, but I wouldn’t tell them that. 

Cameron was here too, a massage gun up near her still recovering knee. 

I scrolled mindlessly on my phone, listening partially to what Rickea was telling me about tomorrow’s plans. Some sitcom played on the tv, or a talk show. Again, I wasn’t very sure.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” Rickea yelled. She dropped down on the couch, nudging me enough to drop my phone from my grasp. “Your first pro game is tomorrow! Can you act excited?”

“I am excited!” I shot back, playfully pushing her back off of me. “You’re just yelling in my ear right now, ‘Kea.”

“Ugh they grow up so fast.” Cameron speaks up. She wipes her eyes from fake unshed tears. I roll my eyes at them both. These cannot be my teammates.

“I’m older than you?”

“And yet, you’re a rookie and I’m not. Matter of fact, come massage my knee for me, rook.” 

I reach for the pillow closest to my right and throw it at her before she can even blink. Which she retaliates for by tossing one back at me.

“Okay enough! God, you guys are children.” Rickea interjects. Her hand reaches for the TV remote. “Tryna watch my friend on TV and y’all wanna act like fools.” 

“Do it at your place then! The fuck?”

Rickea pushes me towards the other end of the couch, and I huff and flop against it. Cam begins to laugh. I reach over for another pillow but she stops, raising her arms in defense.

The volume on the screen in front of me increases, but this time I play attention. Jimmy Fallon is on, and his introduction of whoever is the guest tonight cuts through the air. After a few seconds of silence that’s when I see it.

Suddenly I’ve never found a late night talk show so interesting.

“That’s yo’ friend?” I ask Rickea. And she squeals, like a schoolgirl, ignoring my question. “‘Kea?”

“Yeah, ‘Raye! Doesn’t she look so pretty?” She asks no one in particular. But I still find myself slyly nodding.

I listen intently to her voice, and how she sings the very sensual song beautifully. She was harmonizing with her background vocalists in a way that made my jaw drop. And suddenly, I’m pissed at myself for not only not having this song in my library, but also for knowing whose voice is mesmerizing me right now.

And even more than that, she’s stunning.

The lighting of the stage she sings on gives an illusion like she’s glowing. Or maybe she actually is. My eyes physically cannot leave the screen. She is in a maroon dress and just when I think I can’t be anymore enamored with the sight, the camera pans out to her entire body. 

I didn't even realize that her performance was over until a commercial cuts on. 

“Ain’t she just incredible.” Rickea cheeses at her friend like a proud mother. 

Cam agrees with her. “She’s running my playlist right now.”

“Paige?”

“Huh?”

“I said she’s good right? You like R&B, you should hop on the Maraye train.” Rickea teases and I think that she didn’t pick up on my obvious drooling for the last five minutes. “I promise not all her songs are freaky.”

I clear my throat, nodding at her. 

“No, yeah, she’s,” suddenly any possible descriptors that I could use at the moment are stuck in the back of my throat.

“She’s incredible.”

[riality-check]

A continuation of this post. Part 3

ao3

As that long-haired guy walks away - his friend onstage called his name, but Steve didn’t catch it - Robin nudges Steve.

“Asshole roadies,” she says, sing-song.

“Get fucked,” Steve says with her.

It’s tradition, that little chant. Every gig, there’s always one venue where someone with far less experience says something. Steve knows he was blunt and probably shouldn’t have said anything with that tone, but after too many times, his patience is exhausted.

He can’t even blame the blunt thing on ASL. If anything, he’s meaner in English.

It makes sense. He knows English a lot better. He and Robin only started taking the ASL classes two years ago, when he really needed it. His left ear had been pretty much gone for a while (fuck you Billy Hargrove for putting ceramic in his scalp), but he sucked it up and started learning when his right ear started going, too.

Honestly, he has no idea what caused that.

Two years of ASL means he and Robin aren’t fluent yet. Not even close. But between that, his residual hearing, and the lip reading he’s relied on for longer, Steve does alright. If he wasn’t at a gig, he’d bring his hearing aids, but that’s a recipe for disaster and broken equipment.

Plus, he’s learned he can’t focus on his job when he hears as well as feels the music.

Robin taps his arm again. You good?

I’m good, he signs back.

They finish setting up before they grab a snack. The venue is pretty tiny, a standing room only place that serves pizza and a few drinks, and that’s it.

The pizza is really good though.

They finish up their slices before they go back to the booth. Robin is particular about not eating around the equipment, and Steve has long given up on fighting her.

Their jobs are pretty easy, in all honesty. The light cues are pre-written, and sound check was an hour ago. All Steve needs to do is hit the cues, and all Robin needs to do is adjust mic levels and turn them on and off as needed.

This leaves plenty of room for a healthy amount of fucking around.

As Robin, always on his right side, starts telling him a story about her friend’s ex’s (who is also her friend, because lesbians are just like that) latest date, Steve watches the crowd file in and nods along.

His mind, however, goes back to that guy. Someone always says something, and it’s always someone new to touring. Steve can just tell. All the rookies do the same thing; they look at the stage with wonder in their eyes. This guy was no different. Just some rookie giving Steve a problem, like always.

Except that this guy was different.

Rookies tended to want to prove themselves. They wanted to show off their fancy knowledge and make it clear that they belonged there along with everyone else who had a career. They wanted to catch Steve off guard, make him thank them for helping him out.

This guy didn’t do that. He was nosy and pushy and pretty and rambled a lot, but he wasn’t trying to be a dick. He was trying to look out for Steve, even if it was none of his business, even if he didn’t know him.

He ended up being a bit dickish, but he wasn’t trying to be. If Steve were a nicer person, he’d think that might count for something.

Steve is trying to be a nicer person, with emphasis on trying.

His watch vibrates, jolting him back to the moment. He lowers the lights, cueing the openers to go on.

The set list, along with Steve’s cues, is in in a binder between him and Robin, lit by a book light with a battery that’ll die at least twice, with their luck.

The first opener is a band Steve has never heard of called “Corroded Coffin.” If they’re any good, he might listen to their music.

Big emphasis on might because he’s not a big fan of metal. Punk has better bass lines, one that Steve likes to feel in his chest.

He hits the cue when they start their opening song, lighting them in reds and purples and-

Oh. Shit.

That guy wasn’t a roadie. He’s part of the opening band. He’s a guitarist.

A really good guitarist.

A really hot guitarist.

Steve is so caught up in stating that he nearly misses the next cue. He doesn’t, though. He’s a professional.

Robin elbows him, and he turns to see her signing. For one hopeful moment, he thinks she’s signing “hungry” and will offer to get them both more of that really good pizza like the wonderful friend she is.

But then she repeats the sign, again and again, and Steve smacks her before hitting the next cue.

“I am not horny!” he whispers, clearly loud enough for Robin to hear through her earplugs because she laughs.

You think he’s hot, she signs.

Steve rolls his eyes.

I’m right! she teases.

Steve faces away from her for the two seconds it takes for her to tug him back.

“Not fair,” she says, and Steve only gets it because it’s light enough to read her lips.

The band has gone through two songs, and the lead singer, a tall Black guy, is saying something to the crowd. Steve hears it just fine with all the mics, but understanding is too much of a struggle to bother.

He doesn’t really care anyway. He likes feeling the music and hearing it with what he has left (his audiologist said it won’t accelerate his hearing loss, so any hearing protection is a waste of money), not listening to whatever the bands have to talk about.

Anything important? he asks Robin.

She shakes her head.

Steve turns back to the stage in time to hit the next cue, casting the band in blue as the guitarist starts playing a really low intro.

Did you hear his name earlier? Steve asks.

Robin says something, but it gets lost in the music and the dim light.

“Hettie?” Steve asks aloud.

Robin shakes her head. Sorry.

She finger spells, messing up once and throwing it out with a wave of her hands.

“Eddie?”

She nods.

Steve hits the next cue and uses the rest of the time to appreciate the view. Eddie really is hot, in his dark jeans and tattered tank top, grin on his face and quick-moving fingers. And Steve has never had a chance to talk to the talent, even if they’re nosy.

But Eddie was nosy because he was worried. It would almost be sweet if it wasn’t so condescending.

He didn’t mean for it to be, the terrible little rational part of Steve’s brain pipes up. And he apologized. Multiple times.

The bigger part of his brain reminds him that it doesn’t matter what Eddie meant it as. Steve effectively tanked any hope when he snapped at him before the show.

Oh God.

He has to do a whole tour with this guy. Who he was a total dick to.

Yikes. At least he has Robin, who is-

Currently staring at him and signing “horny.”

Steve smacks her again, which she laughs at and returns instantly before they focus back on their jobs. They’re professionals, goddammit.

Professionals who are already on less than stellar terms with one of the openers.

He’s so not looking forward to the next few weeks.

Tag list (this is not a regular thing for me but it was manageable this time!): @just-a-tiny-void @weirdandabsurd42 @satan-is-obsessed @honeysucklesinger @coyotepup345 @gayafmermaid @thegingerrapunzel

[k-nayee]

Wife to the Winds Epic: The Musical | iii

wc: 1.8k a/n: turned into 4 instead of 3 parts lol. Here's the animation for this part

Traveler M.List

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recap

Your hand flickered down to the weight in your satchel. With trembling fingers, you rummaged through it.

A Lotus fruit and bundle of dried Nepenthe and Poppy herbs are pulled out the bag, now in your hands. 'Please Gods....please. This has to work...'

|

|

You pressed against the cold stone wall of the cave as Polyphemus' voice boomed, shaking the very earth beneath your feet.

From your hidden position you could see Odysseus standing tall even when facing such an overwhelming force.

"There seem to be a misunderstanding," His voice was steady, though you could hear the weight of strategy in every word. "We never came here to steal nor kill what is precious to you."

The conversation was enough of a distraction. And so, while all eyes were on the Cyclops and Odysseus, you seized the moment.

You carefully slip from your hiding place, your eyes locked on the jug of wine sitting nearby.

Using a passing sheep for cover-up, you crept low across the stone floor until you reached it.

Your fingers shook as you uncorked the jug, working quickly despite the adrenaline coursing through you.

With a practiced hand, you pull out the bundle of Nepenthe and Poppy, crumbling the dried herbs into the wine.

You pause at the sight of the Lotus Fruit before quickly squeezing the juice into the mix as well—hopefully it would make him more susceptible to the mix.

As you finished, Odysseus raised hand in a placating gesture. "But now I see the damage we've caused. Maybe you and I can make a deal?"

This was your cue.

Taking a deep breath, you stood up and walked out from behind the sheep with the jug of wine cradled in your arms. 

A soft smile spread across your lips as you called out to the Cyclops.

"Great Polyphemus!" voice laced with awe, your footsteps were light and graceful as you approached. "Forgive my interruption but I could not resist the chance to gaze upon such greatness. At last I find you in all your glory."

Polyphemus' anger faltered, his fiery gaze shifting toward you, massive eye narrowing slightly.

You approached slowly, keeping your movements reverent. "I have been searching for you," you lower your eyes and bow your in show of humility.

"I have heard tales of your strength and power, Son of Poseidon. No mortal can stand against you. Not even these men," you add, casting a glance at Odysseus and the others. "They are beneath you."

The men stirred at your insult, muttering among themselves. Even they seemed to believe your words.

Polyphemus however was intrigued. The light in his eye softened slightly as he observed you, taking in your visage and apparent devotion.

You lift the jug of wine higher, offering it to him. "As a token of my loyalty, I bring you this—wine from distant lands. It is said to have the power to rejuvenate even the mightiest of warriors. One sip, and you shall possess the strength to end them all in a blink of an eye. You needn't waste your time with mere mortals."

You felt the weight of Odysseus' men staring at you in disbelief. You ignore them, focusing only on Polyphemus.

"Knew she was too good to be true!" one of them hissed. "Should've thrown her overboard when we had the chance!"

Hostility simmer as some of the men stiffened, fists tightening around their weapons. Even Eurylochus glared at you with mistrust.

Polyphemus grinned, yellow jagged teeth glinting in the dim light. His ego was clearly pleased by your flattery.

"YOUR WORDS ARE AS RADIANT AS THE FACE THAT SPEAKS THEM." he rumbled, leaning closer. His breath washed over you, foul and warm. "TELL ME, WHAT IS YOUR NAME?"

"I am nobody," you said smoothly, holding his gaze. "Nobody...but a humble servant for thee."

A flicker of understanding passed through Odysseus' eyes. He caught your gaze for a brief moment and you saw the gears turning in his mind.

His lips twitched.

His gaze hardened as he gives a slight, almost imperceptible nod—just enough to show he was on your side.

He trusted you. And that's all that matters.

Polyphemus chuckled. "NOBODY, YOU SAY? THEN NOBODY SHALL SERVE ME. COME CLOSER, POUR THE WINE."

You suppress the shudder crawling up your spine and force your feet to move closer as the Cyclops extends an enormous hand toward you.

For a brief moment the overwhelming stench of him—the musk of sheep, sweat, and earth—fills your senses. It nearly made you gag.

But you keep smiling, even as your hands began to shake when he takes the jug from you.

Slow and deliberate he raises the jug to his lips and take a long drink.

You fought to keep the anxiety from showing on your face, hoping the herbs and lotus fruit in the wine would work.

"AH...STRONG, THIS A FINE WINE." His eye fluttered with a contented sigh as he lick his lips in satisfaction.

"PERHAPS I WILL KILL THEM SLOWLY, JUST TO HEAR THEM SCREAM," Polyphemus muses, more to himself than anyone else. But the momentary distraction gives Odysseus an idea.

"BUT YOU..." He continues, glancing down at you, voice lowering with a hint of possessiveness. "YOU SHALL REMAIN BY MY SIDE AS MY WINE-BEARER. I WILL KEEP YOU TO ADMIRE FOR AS LONG AS I LIVE."

Your stomach churned at the thought—blood running cold at his words, but you kept your sweet smile fixed.

"No!" Odysseus declares stepping forward, his voice rising with protest. "You can't take her!"

The call of defiance took the Cyclops aback. "OH?"

"She's mine. And if you intend to claim her then I demand a fight. Surely a warrior such as yourself knows not take what belongs to another without challenge."

A collective gasp ripples through the men as they stare at their captain in disbelief.

Polities grabs Odysseus' arm, pulling him back with panic in his voice. "Captain wait! You can't—!"

The King of Ithaca shrugs him off, his eyes never leaving the giant.

Polyphemus blinked in surprise before releasing a booming laugh. "YOU THINK YOU CAN DEFEAT ME MORTAL? A FIGHT AGAINST YOU WOULD BE CHILD'S PLAY."

Odysseus raised his chin with a steely gaze. "I'm willing to take that chance. Let her fate be decided by strength."

The son of Poseidon grinned at the Hero's audacity. "VERY WELL. LET US SEE WHO IS THE STRONGER."

"AND WHEN YOU FALL..." He grabbed his massive club, the sound of it scraping against the stone floor sending shivers down your spine. "I WILL CLAIM HER AS MINE."

But Odysseus stood his ground, hands loose by his sides with a calm expression.

With a low growl Polyphemus lifts the club. But as he prepared to swing, his movements slowed.

He blinked sluggishly, confusion clouding his face as it began to glaze over. The massive club wavered in his hand.

"WHAT IS...THIS?" he slurred, voice thick and heavy. His lidded eye shifts back to you, suspicion dawning too late.

He staggered, the weight of the club suddenly too much for him to bear. "WHAT...HAVE YOU...DONE....?"

Your heart race as the adrenaline coursed through you.

His enormous body swayed as he tried to keep balance. His grip on the club faltered, clattering to the ground with a deafening thud.

Polyphemus clutch his head as his body struggled against the effects of the spiked drink.

Odysseus wasted no time. "Now!" he barked.

In a flurry the Ithacan warriors rushed forward. You watched as they grabbed sharpened stakes and rushed into the Cyclops' single unguarded eye.

Polyphemus released a bloodcurdling roar, the sound shaking the cave walls as he thrashed in agony.

He staggers back, howling in pain, before collapsing with a thunderous crash. Defeated.

Odysseus was at your side in an instant, his eyes sharp and gleaming with pride. "Let's go. Quickly."

You didn't need to be told twice.

You scrambled to the entrance with the men, dragging the spoils of food and sheep along as you made the escape.

Once outside the cool air hit your face like a blessing. You were alive. All of you had survived.

When you finally emerged back onto the shore, the sight of the awaiting ships filled you with relief.

The men were abuzz with energy, laughing and cheering now that they were free of the giant's clutches.

Those who stayed aboard crowded around with cheers as they helped haul sacks of food and provisions on deck—enough to sustain the journey ahead.

You followed behind the last of the group, watching Odysseus make his way up the gangplank. 

But just as he stepped onto the deck he was immediately met by two men—Lycus and Alexander.

The pair looked uneasy, their eyes darting nervously between each other as they shuffled toward him.

Pale-faced, they wrung their hands anxiously and avoided eye contact with their captain.

Odysseus halted with slightly furrowed brows as he glanced at them. He said nothing.

Lycus shifted from foot to foot, voice trembling as he tried to form the words. "C-captain...w-we...uh...we may have..."

"Lost..." Alexander finished, the word barely a whisper as it left his lips.

The King of Ithaca remained silent as he waited for them to explain further.

Both men looked like they were about to buckle under the pressure. Lycus stammered, trying to find the right words. "W-we um...we uh...might have—"

You slid into view from behind Odysseus with a bright smile.

"Huh?" you asked innocently, tone light and playful as though nothing unusual had happened.

Both men froze with wide eyes at the sight of you standing there unharmed and cheerful.

They blinked rapidly, looking between you and Odysseus in disbelief.

Still facing the two men Odysseus only gave a slow confused blink and raised eyebrow.

He glanced back at you for a brief second, then returned his attention to Lycus and Alexander, silently waiting for them to finish their explanation.

"W-what was that?" you mockingly added, your smile never wavering as you watch them squirm.

"N-nothing!" Lycus blurted out before looking to Odysseus in slight panic. "Nothing at all sir!"

"Y-yeah nothing Captain!" Alexander echoed, nodding frantically in agreement. "Everything's perfectly fine!"

Odysseus tilted his head slightly. Though his expression was neutral, a flicker of amusement glinted in his eyes.

Without saying a word he give a curt nod, dismissing them with a simple gesture.

Lycus and Alexander didn't waste a second—they quickly stumbled out of sight, muttering hurried excuses.

As they fled, Odysseus turned back to you. He crossed his arms over his chest as he regarded you with a knowing look. "Well...care to explain that?"

You met his gaze with a grin and offer a casual shrug. "Your guess is as good as mine."

[cherbexr]

Sentinel Prime as...

your music manager??

^^(the readers laughing at how ridiculous this dumbass hc is)

Not really a Sentinel Prime x Reader romantic post

Warnings: Bad language, slight fat shaming, Sentinel Prime

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

yeah wtf cherry? what kind of headcanon is this 🤨 Just something a little different!

I like to think that there are different forms of entertainment in Iacon. There's of course the Iacon 5000, but there are other forms like strip clubs and television shows like Iacon's Got Talent.

Sentinel Prime was invited to judge the show, and he took the opportunity to show Iacon how involved he is with the city and how great a leader he is!...

You decided to try for Iacon's Got Talent to show off your awesome vocals! Unknowingly THE Sentinel Prime would be there to judge.

You stepped out on the stage when on cue and a round of applause was heard as you did. You smile and wave and look over to the judges and gasp when you see a stupid smile from a royal blue and golden big ass bot.

You introduced yourself and your talent and after a few moments, you did your thing.

When you were done, whoops and applause were heard again and the judges were impressed.

One judge gave their opinion and the next until it was Sentinel's turn. He probably said some shit about how outstanding you were and yada yada.

"I would like to personally endorse this talented bot and help them prosper!"

Oh! That's great news!

.

.

.

Wait what??

Did he just say he wanted to endorse you?? No way the leader of Iacon wants to endorse you and make you become the singer you've always wanted to be! This is great news! Heck yeah you're accepting that offer!

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

That was the worst decision you've ever made.

This guy literally made you change your paint job to match his. But it can't be the same because Sentinel Prime's color palette is his own palette and nobody can copy it.

Your paint job is probably like a pastel blue and yellow or something along the blue and yellow thing. You have to represent him in some way.

He endorsed you because he wants to show Iacon how a great leader like him can bring up great stars like you! You have to make him look good, perform well, sing well, and look good. Everything has to be perfect because if you make a flaw, you'll make him look bad and a failure of a manager.

He makes you perform at the Iacon 5000 to get his people pumping. Making you do the most over-the-top performances. You have to keep looking back at him for his approval. He is secretly sending you messages into your processor on what to do and if you need to be louder or something.

He doesn't let you have a social life and is very restrictive about what you're doing.

"That's one energon cube too many, you're going to be fat. I can't have a fat star, can I?"

The only time you'd be seen with random people is when you're being filmed doing charity or something good for the community.

Wow! Sentinel Prime endorsed such a kind bot! He has a great eye for good people!

Dating? Don't even think about it before asking him first. He would only let you "date" some popular bot. Maybe a top racer or another star. But you wouldn't be actually dating, it's just a way for Sentinel Prime to keep you relevant.

You have to be the top singer in all of Iacon. All other singers and stars, don't even think about trying to outdo you. If they somehow surpass you, oops! They accidentally ingested poison! I wonder how that happened... (That Beyonce theory reference lol)

Don't even think about getting sick and having to call off the show. You are doing that to show whether you're dying or not. He's gonna get the top doctor and patch you up right away. How unreliable you are for canceling a show thousands of bots wanted to see!

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

You talk to Sentinel, telling him you don't wanna do this anymore and he stops in his tracks. He turns around and bends down to face you with a disappointed look.

"You don't want to do this anymore? After all this hard work and money I put into you, to make you become who you are now? Well...I guess it's such a shame...All those poor poor bots who look up to you and love you will be just so sad to see you leave your whole career and them behind..." He then stood up and guided you near the window that had a whole view of Iacon.

He then glances at you, "Such a shame, am I right?"

Take that as a no.

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

One time you're practicing for a big performance. The stylist and stage decorators are doing their thing and you run through the show. Sentinel Prime walks in on it and watches it before interrupting.

"Woah Woah Woah Woah! What is this?? I did not ask for this. The decoration is ugly, and the paint job is sloppy, who the hell wrote this script?!"

A stage manager looked around and back at him, "You did sir." They said as they pointed and showed him the clipboard.

He snatched it out of their hand and threw it to the side, "How could I possibly write this? This isn't even my handwriting! You're fired."

(He wrote it. )

He then motioned for you to come over to him and he grabbed your face and showed you to the rest of the crew, "I can't have precious (y/n) looking all ugly and making a fool out of herself now can I?"

You glared at him, "I think it's fi-"

"shhh, I'm doing you a favor."

He rewrote everything, changed every single direction, and watched the whole rerun applauding.

"Now that's what I want!"

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

Remember my headcanons

Feel free to request!

Not proofread

[ginxyy]

Sweet melody of us

The studio, a Coke Zero, jealousy and confessions

As I walked through the dimly lit corridors of the studio, my heart swelled with excitement. Jihoon had been immersed in his work for hours, and I couldn't wait to see him. It was one of those cozy evenings where the fading sun painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, a perfect backdrop for the love I felt blossoming between us. I had decided to surprise him with his favorite food crispy kimbap and a refreshing Coke Zero my small way of telling him just how much he meant to me.

I gently opened the door to the studio where he often worked late into the night. The moment I set foot in the room, the familiar scent of recording equipment intertwined with the tantalizing aroma of food wrapped around me like a warm embrace. Jihoon was hunched over at his workstation, his eyebrows knitted in concentration as he fine-tuned a track. His features glowed in the soft light, and it's moments like these when I could hardly believe that this talented artist held my heart.

“Hey, Jihoon!” I called out softly, careful not to disturb his focus.

He looked up, his eyes brightening as they locked onto mine. “Oh! You’re here,” he exclaimed, his voice laced with a mixture of shock and warmth. His face broke into a wide smile, the kind that made my heart flutter.

“I brought you something,” I said, gesturing to the food bags in my hands. “I thought you might be hungry after spending all day working.”

Jihoon’s expression changed to one of delight as he jumped to his feet. “You’re the best!” he beamed, and in that moment, I was reminded yet again of how lucky I was to have him in my life.

He reached for the bags, but before he could dig in, he excused himself to grab a few files from the other room. Excited about our time together, I plopped down on the edge of the couch, glancing at the various musical equipment scattered around. The walls pulsed with creativity, filled with dreams and aspirations that belonged to Jihoon and his band.

While I waited, Seungcheol casually strolled into the studio, his effortless charm filling the room like a pop song on a summer day. “Well, well, look who it is!” he said, leaning against the doorframe with a mischievous grin. “Did Jihoon send you for food again, or do you have a special delivery just for him?”

I rolled my eyes, not quite seeing the flirtation buried in his playful tone. “Just a little something to keep him going,” I replied with a smile, enjoying the light-hearted banter. The atmosphere lightened, and without meaning to, I felt a flutter of friendship towards Seungcheol.

He stepped closer, leaning against the couch. “You know, it’s rare to see Jihoon like this. It’s nice that you bring him a bit of sunshine amidst all the hard work,” he said, his voice smooth like honey.

My heart raced a little, but I shrugged it off, unable to acknowledge the way he seemed to linger at my words. Before I knew it, Jihoon had returned, files in hand, and the energy in the room shifted dramatically. The moment he spotted us, his eyes narrowed slightly and a shadow flickered across his face.

“Seungcheol, what are you doing?” His voice was firm, laced with an unmistakable hint of jealousy that sent a shiver of delight down my spine.

“Oh, just making sure your girlfriend isn’t getting bored!” Seungcheol replied, a cheeky smile dancing on his lips.

Jihoon moved closer to me, shielding me as if he could ward off any imagined threat with just his presence. “I was just gone for a second,” he muttered, his protective instincts kicking in. I could see the sulk forming on his lips, and my heart ached with affection for him.

“Everything’s fine, Jihoon.” I chuckled, trying to ease the tension. “I was just talking.”

Seungcheol picked up the cue to leave, but not before throwing me one last teasing wink. “Take care of her, Jihoon,” he said, emphasizing the words like an anthem. With that, he was gone, leaving the air thick with unspoken feelings.

I turned to Jihoon, and to my surprise, he looked a little hurt, that adorable sulk still evident on his face. It was rare for him to show such vulnerability, and it made my heart ache with tenderness. “You know I only have eyes for you, right?” I said softly, stepping closer.

He looked up at me, his expression softening as I reached out to cup his cheek. “Really?” he questioned, uncertainty clouding his eyes.

Taking a breath, I leaned in, kissing him gently, pouring all my emotions into that moment the care, the affection, and the quiet thrill of being with him. “I love you, Jihoon,” I whispered against his lips, and in that moment, it felt like the world melted away.

His eyes widened, bright with joy and disbelief. “You love me?” he echoed, as if tasting the words on his tongue for the first time.

“Of course, I do. I’ve loved you for a while now,” I confessed, feeling the weight of the words lift from my chest, their honesty baking sweet warmth inside me.

He laughed, a sound of pure joy that encapsulated everything we felt. Without missing a beat, Jihoon pulled me into his arms, kissing me fervently as if the world outside ceased to exist. Each kiss was a melody, a sweet serenade that connected our hearts in a way words alone could never do.

“I love you too,” he finally said, his voice muffled against my hair as we embraced. It was our first shared acknowledgment, yet it felt as familiar as the music he created.

In those moments, the rhythm of our hearts synced effortlessly, the teasing lightness of jealousy dissolving into a profound connection only we could understand. And as we pulled away, breathless and smiling, I realized that amidst the laughter and gentle teasing, I had found my perfect harmony in Jihoon.

[nhularin]

PERFECT DUO

PAIRING idol!mc!sunghoon x idol!mc!reader GENRE fluff, idol au SYNOPSIS when sunghoon forgot his lines, you just know what to do WARNINGS none WC 494 words

SUNGHOON PACED NERVOUSLY BACKSTAGE, his heart pounding in his chest. This week, he had been given the opportunity to co-host music bank and the thought of standing on that stage, in front of millions of viewers, with you, was enough to make him break out in a cold sweat.

Just as his anxiety reached its peak, he heard a familiar voice calling out to him. "Sunghoon! Hey, over here!"

Relief washed over him as he hurriedly made his way towards you. "Thank goodness you're here," Sunghoon sighed, wiping away imaginary beads of sweat from his forehead. "I was starting to panic.

You chuckled, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Don't worry, Sunghoon. We've got this. We're going to rock this stage and have the time of our lives!"

Sunghoon couldn't help but be infected by your enthusiasm. "Yeah, you're right," he replied, a determined look on his face. "Let's do this together!"

As the cameras started rolling, the two of you took your positions on the stage, ready to introduce the first act. But just as Sunghoon opened his mouth to speak, a sudden gust of wind blew through the set, causing his cue cards to scatter all over the stage.

"Oh no!" Sunghoon exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief. "I can't remember what I'm supposed to say!"

You burst into laughter, unable to contain yourself. "Well, Sunghoon, looks like it's time to put your improvisation skills to the test!" you teased, trying to stifle your giggles.

With a determined frown, Sunghoon took a deep breath and looked directly into the camera. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special surprise for you today!" he announced, his voice filled with confidence. "Instead of following the script, we're going to perform a magic trick!"

The audience gasped in surprise, their curiosity piqued. Sunghoon winked at you, and together, you both began to wave your hands dramatically, pretending to make something appear out of thin air.

"Ta-da!" Sunghoon exclaimed, holding up a plush toy from behind his back. "Behold, the amazing disappearing cue cards! They're gone!"

The crowd erupted into laughter and applause, thoroughly entertained by your impromptu act. Sunghoon couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him, realizing that sometimes, the best moments were the ones that weren't planned.

Throughout the rest of the show, you and Sunghoon continued to bring laughter and joy to the audience. From silly dance-offs between performances to hilarious skits, the two of you improvised your way through the show, turning every mishap into a memorable moment.

As the cameras faded to black, you turned to Sunghoon, a wide grin on your face. "Well, Sunghoon, I'd say we nailed it," you said, playfully nudging his side.

Sunghoon chuckled, the tension of the day finally dissipating. "Yeah, you did pretty good, yn. Good job" he couldn't hide the blush creeping on his cheeks as he let out those words and made his way to the fitting room

Cute

[in1-nutshell]

Elita One's twin sister with SG Blackarachnia's personality reuniting with Optimus Prime

SFW, Angst, some hurt, some comfort, Cybertronian (Techno Organic) reader

part 1

While Buddy had made a name for herself amongst the Decepticons, the three Autobots who made it back to Cybertron took a different turn.

Optimus wracked with guilt, took the fall for the entire situation

He was stripped from the academy and placed on spacebridge repairs. Filled with guilt over loosing his best friend which was another factor in his ability to make decisions.

He would constantly play the scene over and over again in his mind think of all the ‘what if’s’ and ‘should haves’.

Elita One and Sentinel only continued on their training and made it to the Elite Guard.

Sentinel held much resentment and anger whenever Buddy was mentioned. He missed his friend dearly but his anger was placed squarely on Optimus and would remain until then.

Elita for some time was a hollow shell of the bot she used to be

She couldn’t stop thinking about her final moments with Buddy and her last actions.

Buddy’s last actions to save her twin.

Buddy chose her life over herself.

Elita eventually pushed down the feelings and began focusing on the Guard to cope with the loss.

Time skip of Team Prime being on Earth

Buddy knew of the existence of the Autobots on Earth. She knew well that Optimus was their leader. Despite a part of her being proud of her friend leading a team, and leading them well in battle, she didn’t want to see him. Maybe in the future, but now, she wasn’t ready to ‘face the music’ as the locals said.

Anyways she had other problems to worry about.

The makeshift med bay was running low on steel. With the number of injuries everyone was getting was running the reserves dry. So, it was time to go scavenging for more materials.

“Where are you going?”--Megatron

“A steel run. Nothing special my lord.”--Buddy

“I can send Lugnut or Blitzwing to get the steel. You don’t need to go out of the base. You’re needed here on base as our medic.”--Megatron

“Blitzwing is in the medbay and needs the steel along with everyone else on base. Without him, Lugnut is most likely to bring the steel in so many pieces they will look like rust. I’m useless here. I know a place where I can get enough steel to get in and out of there quickly.”--Buddy

“Do not say that.”--Megatron

“Don’t worry my Lord. It’s by the docks and should be fairly quick to get everything. Though I should probably stop saying tht it will be easy so I don’t jinx it—”--Buddy

“Not that. You called yourself useless. You are many things but useless is not one of them.”--Megatron

“… And what do you mean by that my Lord?”--Buddy

“I mean—”--Megatron

“Lord Megatron! Hothead started a fight with Lugnut—”--Starscream

BANG!

“…”—Starscream, Megatron, and Buddy

“I believe that is my cue to leave. Good luck with the clean up!”--Buddy

Buddy made it to the docks and began digging around for any spare beams. She didn’t like dealing with humans too much and causing too much trouble. They have their own lives and troubles to worry about, they don’t need her on the list too.

“Finally! The last beam and I’m outta here!”--Buddy

“Achoo!”—Sari

Buddy looks down to see Sari standing there looking up at her.

“I just had to jinx it…”—Buddy

Sari didn’t know what to do.

She was just trick or treating with Bumblebee and Bulkhead when she heard some noise coming from one of the warehouses nearby and gave the guys a bit of a slip as she went ahead to investigate.

Sari and Buddy were just looking at each other for a bit.

“Umm… hello?”--Buddy

“What’s your name?”--Sari

“Oh? My name is Buddy. I know I look a little scary but, I’m not going to hurt you.”--Buddy

“Yeah, I can tell. You don’t look threatening or anything. Weird looking from the other Bots’ but definitely not scary.”--Sari

“…really?”--Buddy

“Nope! Sure, some things look kind of weird but not scary. What are you doing with those steel beams? You’re not stealing them are you?”--Sari

“…In my defense I’m taking from the pile that ordered more than what they needed. I need them for my med kits.”--Buddy

“Oh! You should talk to Ratchet about those! Hey, You can come with me!”--Sari

“I’m sorry…”--Buddy

“I’m Sari.”--Sari

“Oh? Peculiar little name… it suites you.”--Buddy

“Thanks—you’re a Decepticon!?”--Sari

“Yes I am but—”--Buddy

“Sari!”--Bumblebee

“This night keeps getting better…”--Buddy

That was when Bumblebee and Bulkhead entered.

Buddy was immediately on edge sizing up her potential enemies. She really didn’t want to use her ‘gift’ if she didn’t need to.

Buddy tried explaining to the bots that she didn’t want to fight them.

But apparently, they did.

“Reach for the sky Decepticreep!”--Bumblebee

“Listen, I’m not here for a fight—”--Bulkhead

“To bad! This is for trying to hurt Sari!”--Bulkhead

“I didn’t even—WOAH!”--Buddy

“Bulkhead! Bumblebee!”--Sari

“Don’t worry Sari get Prime online and tell him we got a rouge Con.”--Bumblebee

“That’s my cue to leave. Bye Sari! See ya later boys!”--Buddy

“Oh no you don’t”--Bulkhead

Buddy dodged and ducked all of the boys attacks the best she could while handling the beams on her back. She was about to web herself away to the skylight when the big one, Bulkhead she thinks the name was, hit one of the support beams on the warehouse causing a huge chunk on the ceiling to fall straight onto Sari.

“SARI!”—Bumblebee and Bulkhead

Buddy webbing Sari and booking it.

“Hey! Let me go!”--Sari

“SARI!”--Bumblebee

“GET BACK HERE!”--Bulkhead

“This wasn’t the plan! This wasn’t the plan! This wasn’t the plan!”—Buddy

Now Buddy did plan on putting the human down as soon as she was out of the warehouse, but apparently the boys weren’t going to let Buddy stop. And there was no way that Buddy was going to let the little one down in a potentially dangerous area.

“Put Me Down!”--Sari

“You want me to put you down here midair over your cities busy streets?!”--Buddy

“Well not here, here.”--Sari

“When I see a safe spot I’ll drop you off so you can go on with your life, but right now your safest option is with me kid.”--Buddy

“Tell that to them! It looks like your kidnapping me!”--Sari

“I know it does kid! I know!”--Buddy

Buddy was swinging her way above the roofs of the giant buildings when she felt something huge force ram into her side causing her to tumble down on the roof below.

She made sure that Sari was tucked away safely so the fall would hurt her.

“You okay kid?”--Buddy

“Yeah… you’re pretty nice for a Con.”--Sari

“Yeah—”--Buddy

“Servos where I can see them!”--Optimus

“…”--Buddy

“Optimus!”--Sari

“Let the human go and get up slowly Decepticon.”--Optimus

“…”--Buddy

There in all his glory was Optimus with his axe in his servos and wearing a determined look on his faceplate.

Slowly Buddy placed Sari down on the ground as she sent a sos message to any Con nearby to pick her up. Apparently, she stood up too quickly because the axe was coming closer and closer.

Buddy wanted to scream and yell that Optimus that it was her. She wanted to say something, anything, but her voice box didn’t seem to work too choked up with emotions that were buried and painful flashbacks.

She did her best to evade every strike which as it turned out not to be too hard. Optimus was always one to copy his fighting moves directly from the textbooks.

Sari did try to explain the situation to Prime but it didn’t help the way she phrased some of the things.

And the fact that he didn’t know who she was. To him, she was simply a weirdly colored Con that was stealing from a human business.

Then next thing Buddy knew she was on the ground with Optimus above her ready to strike, a strike to wound not kill, something Buddy was thankful for.

But that’s when Buddy’s voice box decided to work as a last effort way to stop him.

“Times up Decepticon!”--Optimus

“Optimus Stop!”--Buddy

The axe was a couple of inches from her when it stopped.

Optimus paused a bit, giving Buddy enough time to roll out of his grasp and putting some space between the two.

“How do you know my name?”--Optimus

“…I’d be a pretty crummy friend if I didn’t know my best friends name.”--Buddy

“…Buddy?”--Optimus

“Hey Prime.”--Buddy

“But how? You weren’t… your signal… we looked for you—”--Optimus

“Apparently you didn’t look hard enough Prime. Those spiders found me quicker than you three did. And now… and now that doesn’t matter anymore.”--Buddy

“We searched for you Buddy! The scans didn’t read anything—”--Optimus

“Prime drop it.”--Buddy

Wait, your part organic now—”--Optimus

“Optimus stop it.”--Buddy

“That’s why the scanners didn’t read that you were still there! We have to tell—”--Optimus

“We are not telling anyone about anything!”--Buddy

“What?! What about Sentinel? Do you think he doesn’t deserve the right to know what happened to you? What about Elit—”--Optimus

“QUIET!”--Buddy

“…”--Optimus

“I’m not heading to Cybertron so they can just dissect me on a cold lab table.”--Buddy

“We won’t let that happen Buddy. I won’t let that happen to you. I promise that.”--Optimus

“Don’t do that Prime.”--Buddy

“Don’t do what?”--Optimus

“Don’t make promises that you can’t keep.”--Buddy

“And what have you go back to the Decepticons?”--Optimus

“Yes.”—Buddy

Buddy needed to leave.

Buddy had never been more overjoyed to hear Lugnut’s engines than what she did at that moment. Before the Prime could ask any more questions Buddy swung her webs at the aircraft as it took her away from the roof tops below.

She climbed into the open back and closed it shut.

“How did the mission go? You pressed the sos for air support I assumed you found more steel—”--Lugnut

“Lugnut… Just… just get us back to the base…”--Buddy

“… Should I alert Lord Megatron of our arrival?”--Lugnut

“…Sure, Big guy. You do that.”—Buddy

When they arrived to the base Buddy still didn’t want to get out. She doesn’t want to face everyone else, not now.

Blitzwing is the one who carries Buddy out and goes to the medbay.

Starscream grabs the rest of the steel beams and heads to the medbay.

Lugnut transformed to get Megatron.

“Lord Megatron!”--Lugnut

“Yes Lugnut. Did Buddy return from the mission?”--Megatron

“Yes, a successful mission, but she did have a run in with some of the Autobots.”--Lugnut

“She what?”--Megatron

“She had a run in with some of the Autobots Lord Megatron—Lord Megatron?!”--Lugnut

Megatron hurrying to the medbay.

Blitzwing sets Buddy on the med slab and starts inspecting for any injuries as Starscream was complaining about putting the steel in its correct place.

“Boys, I’m fine.”--Buddy

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him.”--Starscream

“Shush!”--Icy

“Icy, really this isn’t necessary. Anyways you’re the one who needs the patch job.”--Buddy

“Something clearly happened. You didn’t want to get out of Lugnut.”--Icy

“And that never happens!”--Hothead

“Were you playing peek-a-boo!”--Random

“Its just been a long day that’s all.”--Buddy

Enter Megatron

“Leave us.”—Megatron

Once everyone had left the room, Megatron sat down beside Buddy. A silence fell over them. After a bit, he asked what happened.

Buddy couldn’t hold it in. She told him almost everything that happened, Buddy still refused to give away the names of the Bots and Sari.

This irked him a bit, but at least Buddy was talking to him. He stayed next to Buddy as she told the rest of the story. Buddy tried hard to keep the coolant from spilling in front of Megatron. That was one of the last things she wanted to do.

They spilled when Megatron gently placed his servo on her shoulder and rubbed it softly. Megatron, the mighty Decepticon war lord, who had faced Death head on in the battlefield against all odds, held Buddy close to his chassis as she cried and trembled.

He promised to teach those who wronged his… friend? Whoever wronged Buddy a lesson. After all pain was a powerful teacher, and he intended on making them wise.

Meanwhile with Optimus.

Once he came back to the plant with Sari and Bumblebee and Bulkhead, he went straight to his room.

“What’s with Boss-bot?”--Bumblebee

“Don’t know?”--Bulkhead

“I think it has something to do with the new Con.”--Sari

He couldn’t believe it.

Buddy was alive!

Buddy was alive.

Buddy was a con.

A con…

And this was all his fault.

As soon as he’d get communication with Cybertron, he needed to get in contact with Elita and Sentinel.

The only thing he could do now was hope that he would cross paths with Buddy again and ask more questions on what happened to her.

And apologize to his best friend.

The friend he left behind.

[yorshie]

Señorita

Bayverse mikey x gn reader, sfw

“Gah, it’s no use.” You call, disappointed when once again your two left feet manage to trip each other up.

Mikey laughs when you stumble and catch yourself, his humor an infectious thing that brings a smile to your mouth even though inside your head you’re cursing at the once again missed cues.

“It’s ok, angel, you’re just thinking too much,” he tells you, hopping off the edge of the rooftop where he’d stayed since showing you the initial steps.

You frown, trying to move to the side so he’d have room to move, “no, I’m pretty sure you have to be thinking to remember the steps.” another side step to stay out of his way when he paused by the boombox to restart the song. “That’s gotta be an important part, remembering that.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re definitely an over–thinker,” he accused gleefully, taking advantage of your immediate, high pitched noise of denial to close the distance between the two of you.

He sidled up to your side smooth as silk, taking both your raised hands in his before you could jerk out of his space. Like a planet caught in the sun’s orbit, your feet followed him before your mind could catch up, woodenly stepping in time as he led you around.

“You’re too tight,” he said softly, cheekily, placing your hands on his shoulders before dropping his to your hips, pulling slightly as he repeated the few easy motions.

You were flustered, you wanted to protest, but as with anything else that felt too close to an admission where your friend was concerned, you swallowed it back down, the word painful in your throat when it ran into the hiccuped breath that was caught right below your collar.

Your hands on his shoulders felt hot, sweaty, and you fought not to dig them into the more prominent scales when the pads of your fingers grazed them. Close, too close, too close for your heart and your peace of mind. Goosebumps chased down your arms, heat down your back, focusing too much on not locking up to hear the words he whispered into your hair.

He moved closer, plastron brushing your elbows, his hands not letting you pull away. The outside of his foot clipped the inside of your ankle as he tried to get you to widen one of your steps. He hummed, the sound low and contemplating, causing you to shiver, but when you looked up you could only see the look of concentration on his face, tongue peeking out as he stared at the way your hips and feet moved out of sync.

“You gotta feel the music, quit thinking.” Baby blues snuck a look up at your face, before he tugged you closer, “here, follow me-”

Your stomach brushed his plastron, and you finally succeeded in pulling away, sputtering and feeling nine kinds of foolish when he snagged one of your hands with his lightning fast ninja reflexes and tugged you right back.

“Alright, sorry, sorry, sunshine, too fast.” Before you could decipher what he meant by that, his hands enveloped yours again, pressing them to the middle scute on his plastron, right over that little heart that you’d wanted to touch for months.

“Just feel the music,” he said softly, thumbs rubbing over the little bones in your wrists before sliding up to your elbows. He lingered there, for a moment, while you were concentrating on not letting your hands wander too far from where he’d placed them, before dropping back to your waist. Wide, just a little bit warm, the calluses on his palms rasped against the little peek of skin where your shirt had ridden up.

“Song’s restarting, just follow my lead,” he told you in that same careful whisper, rolling your hips in his grip in a mimic of the roll you could feel happening under your hands, and-

And your mind blanked, relying completely on Mikey, allowing him to pull you around the makeshift dance floor as the music played and he softly sang the words into your hair.

Your breath caught, trembling high in your throat, before the smooth rub of his thumbs coiled into the heat under your skin, and you relaxed, just a touch, just enough to realize there was more than just the bass thrumming underneath your fingers.

A quick glance upwards, looking up through your lashes, confirmed that Mikey wasn’t watching where your feet were going, pupils wide enough to reflect your face as he met your gaze.

His hands squeezed, gently, at your waist, pulling you closer.

[silenttrxxs]

D&G - choi san - 산

Y/N was known to give an amazing show, her modelling agency had called her in to give her the best news she could have asked for. Walking for Dolce And Gabanna, it was a dream.

It was time, standing behind the scenes waiting for the celebrities and guests to arrive and take their seats. Y/N nerves were creeping in. It would have been a breeze if they hadnt have mentioned that her favourite person had been invited to attend the show. Youre wondering who this is, well its Choi San. Known for being one of the best and kindest souls to ever walk this planet, with looks that could kill a person.

The music starts, cueing the models all to get into place, last minute touchups being made and the doors swinging open. All nerves long forgotten for the time being as Y/N focused her soul into her work. It was all running smoothly until the moment she had finished, she thought to herself that she would get out of this show unscathed. Oh she thought wrong.

San was admiring the clothes, really intreguied by the pieces as everyone walked past him, but Y/N had really caught his eye. The piece that she wore was beautiful, really exentuating Y/N figure in all the right ways. But he couldnt take his eyes from Y/N face. The natural makeup highlighting key points of her face and this drawing in Sans attention not to mention the winks and little smiles that Y/N gave as she walked past, hoping not to get caught.

Everyone managed to get the show done it was time to get out there and greet people, the infamous afterparty. Y/N had changed a nice dress given to her for this event, she made sure to highlight it and showcase it off to everyone.

Taking a glass of wine from the tables lining the entrance Y/N took a sip looking around, before choking a little as her eyes land on san.

Dressed handsomely in a white suit from last years collection, he really looked something out of a royal movie. He was glancing around clearly trying to figure out if he wanted to be at the afterparty. Feeling somewhat the same and wanting to just rest herself, Y/N took a gulp of the wine and walked towards san.

"you look like you want to be here" Y/N said laughing a little.

"My names Y/N, You?" Y/N said trying to play it cool infront of him something striking a confidence she didnt know she had.

"Well hello to you too, my names san" san said laughing a little.

"Well i must say you look handsome today" Y/N remarked a slight blush creeping up her face as she locked eyes with San.

"You did amazing up there Y/N, True beauty doesnt often land infront of me like this" San said being the first to slyly grasp Y/N hand bringing it up and placing a chaste kiss to her hand.

"A princess like you should be worshipped" San said not stopping the rare flirtatiousness come out of him like a tap.

"Well arent you something huh san" Y/N said giggling and trying to turn away to hide the blush on her cheeks.

San laughed noticing the blush but not wanting to probe into Y/N and ruin this chance before he even got it.

"You wanna come back to my hotel its not far and you and me both dont exactly fit the afterparty type huh?" San said laughing as he felt his own blush creeping up his neck into his cheeks.

"Y-Yeah sure why not" Y/N agreed grabbing sans hand and following him as he lead them out of the hustle and bustle of the afterparty.

Getting back to the hotel he turnt to Y/N, any other thoughts leaving his head as he leant into Y/N slowly gaging a nod from Y/N he leant in kissing her deeply, tongues dancing together and breathes getting caught together.

San was going insane slowly, the way she felt in his grasp was something he could have dreamed about. "God youre incredible" San spoke as they pulled away only to notice that Y/N eyes were blown wide and full of a lust that was powerful, he looked into her eyes before leaning in and whispering into her ear.

"Bedroom now, i want you naked and on all fours at the end of the bed by the time i get there" San said leaving a bite on her earlobe.

Y/N was done for the way the words left his mouth left her almost drooling, getting up quickly and moving to the bedroom stripping down to nothing and getting in position she felt helpless in the best way he had her wrapped around his finger.

"Good girl" San spoke as he walked into the room taking the belt off and tapping it in his hands.

"Do you think you deserve anything princess, i saw the way you was flirting with me, this is what you wanted from me isnt it, you knew excatly who i was from the start" San spoke a breathy laugh leaving his mouth as he cracked the belt watching the way Y/N body flinched and the wetness buliding up in between her legs clear and eviddent to san.

San couldnt hold back much longer he needed her just as bad as she needed him before he could even get a response he let his fingers trail down her folds, collecting the wetness onto his fingers and feeling the way she would clench around nothing. Begging silently for him.

"Look at you being so needy for me, just want me cock dont you doll" San said lowly before taking himself out of his clothes, lining himself up and thrusting into her harshly.

"Made for this arent you, such a cockslut... thats obvious to see" San said grabbing a handful of Y/N hair and letting out a breathy laugh. his hand gripping onto her hip with every thrust. sure to leave a bruise in its wake.

The way Y/N clenched around him with every word he said was mindblowing he didnt know if he could hold back much longer. Thrusting harder he let his head roll back as he felt the warm familar feeling collecting inside him. The noises tou made were guiding him to reach his high too. "gonna make me cum baby, gonna make you mine, no one can make you cum the way i do, youll only remember my cock now" san growled slamming into Y/N mercilessly.

San couldnt hold back anymore, he flipped Y/N over gripping onto himself and stroking himself more, "Open wide baby" San said watching the way Y/N Let her tongue hang loosely from her mouth. "F-Fuck" was all san could breathe out before releasing all ober her tongue, some of it falling and landing on her cheeks and even runnig down onto her breasts.

"Fuck youre made for me" San said before catching his breath and moving slowly, laying next to Y/N and pulling her into cuddle placing a chaste kiss to her forehead before she dosed off.

[nausicaamusiclover20]

A night at the bar...

You and the guys go to the bar but something unexpected will happen…

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

The bar is alive with chatter, a mix of dim lighting and neon signs casting colorful glows across the room. It's packed, as usual for a Saturday night in the '90s. The faint smell of cigarette smoke hangs in the air, and I tap my fingers on the bar, waiting for the bartender to bring over the drinks.James and the guys-Kirk, Jason, and Lars, are a few feet away, laughing and exchanging stories over their beers. I catch glimpses of him glancing over at me with that charming smile of his, the one that always makes my heart skip a beat. But for now, he’s engaged in whatever debate they’re having, so I focus on getting the drinks back to our table.

Just as I’m about to collect them, someone slides onto the stool beside me. Instantly, the atmosphere around me shifts, and I can feel his eyes on me.“You look lonely,” the man says, his voice dripping with a sleazy undertone.I barely look at him. “I’m not.”Ignoring the obvious cue, he leans closer, the smell of beer and cheap cologne wafting off him. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing alone at the bar? Waiting for someone better?”

I take a breath, refusing to engage. “I’m here with my boyfriend,” I say coolly, hoping that would be enough to shut him down.“Boyfriend, huh?” he says, clearly not caring. He inches closer, his arm brushing mine. “He doesn’t seem to care much about you if he’s letting you sit here all alone. Why don’t you let me take care of you tonight?”I stiffen, pulling my arm away. “I said no.”

But he doesn’t stop. “Don’t be like that, sweetheart,” he purrs, his fingers grazing the back of my hand as he speaks. “I can show you a real good time. Better than some guy who leaves you at the bar.”Disgusted, I jerk my hand away and glare at him. “I told you to back off.”His grin widens, as if he enjoys seeing me uncomfortable. “Feisty. I like that in a girl.”

I push my stool back, trying to put some space between us. My heart is pounding now, my skin crawling at how relentless he is. I glance over at James, hoping he’ll notice, but he’s still engrossed in conversation.The man, sensing my discomfort, smirks. His hand moves toward my thigh, and I freeze for a moment, the shock of it making me unable to react right away. His fingers are just about to touch me when a familiar voice cuts through the noise.“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” James’ voice is low, but there’s no mistaking the anger in it.

Relief floods through me as I see him stepping up beside me, his eyes locked on the man beside me. James’ face is a mix of calm fury, the kind that’s even more terrifying because of how controlled it is. He stands tall, squaring his shoulders, and I can feel the tension radiating off him.The guy glances at James, clearly unimpressed. “What’s your problem, man? Just talking to your girl. She didn’t seem to mind.”

James’ jaw clenches, and his voice comes out dangerously quiet. “I saw exactly what you were doing. Now, get your hands off her before I break them. The guy laughs, a low, mocking sound, and doesn’t move. “What, you gonna hit me? Over a little flirting?” “Flirting?” James’ voice is ice cold. “You call grabbing my girlfriend flirting?”The guy shrugs, but the cocky smirk remains. “She wasn’t complaining.”

That’s when James’ fist flies through the air, connecting with the man’s jaw so fast I barely have time to react. The sound of the punch echoes in the bar, cutting through the music and chatter. The guy stumbles backward, crashing into the stools behind him, knocking over glasses in the process.My heart races as the bar goes silent, all eyes turning to the scene. James steps back, breathing heavily, his fists still clenched at his sides, and the guy on the floor groans, clutching his face in shock.

“What the hell?” he spits out, trying to get to his feet. “You’re crazy!”James doesn’t move, his eyes still locked on the man. “Get out of here before I finish what I started,” he warns, hisvoice calm but deadly serious. Just then, Kirk, Jason, and Lars rush over, having seen the commotion from across the room. Kirk takes one look at the guy, the way he’s clutching his jaw, and then back at James.

“What happened?” Kirk asks, though his tone already suggests he knows the answer.James glares at the guy before speaking. “This asshole wouldn’t leave her alone. He put his hands on her.”Jason’s face darkens instantly. “Is that right?” He steps forward without hesitation and lands a hard punch on the guy’s gut, sending him doubling over with a groan. “You deserve worse.”

The man tries to catch his breath, but before he can even stand upright, Lars grabs him by the back of his collar and yanks him back. “What kind of man puts his hands on a girl who says no?” Lars sneers, twisting his fist in the guy's shirt. The man winces, but Lars only tightens his grip, making sure he feels every second of it.Kirk steps in next, crossing his arms and glaring down at the guy like he’s something stuck to the bottom of his shoe. “You’re lucky you’re still breathing, man. If you ever come near her again, you won’t be,” Kirk says, his voice cold.

The guy, clearly panicking now, stumbles to his feet, clutching his stomach with one hand while trying to shake Lars off with the other. “Alright, alright, I’m leaving!” he chokes out, but just as he’s about to make a run for it, Jason steps forward and grabs a handful of the guy’s hair, yanking it back hard enough to make him yelp.

“You don’t get to leave without a proper goodbye,” Jason says, his voice full of menace as he tugs the man’s head back even further. “Remember her face. You touch her again, and we won’t be so nice next time.”The guy is practically trembling now, nodding frantically as Jason finally lets him go. He stumbles back, nearly falling as he bolts toward the door, not daring to look back.

James’fists are still clenched, his whole body tense, but he finally relaxes as the guy disappears from view. The bar slowly returns to its usual buzz, though there’s still a lingering tension in the air Kirk, Jason, and Lars look at each other, exchanging silent nods, and then turn to James. “You good, man?” Kirk asks, his voice back to its usual calm tone. James takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah. Thanks, guys.”

Jason grins, though there’s still a dangerous gleam in his eye. “No one messes with her while we’re around.”Lars cracks his knuckles. “Damn right.”I stand there, feeling a little shaky but overwhelmed with gratitude. I take a step toward the guys, giving them a warm, sincere smile.

“Thank you,” I say softly, looking each of them in the eye. “Really. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you all hadn’t been there.”Jason shrugs, but there’s a hint of pride in his eyes. “We’ve got your back.”Kirk offers a lopsided smile. “Anytime.”Lars nods in agreement. “You don’t have to worry when we’re around.”I smile, feeling the warmth of their support, and then glance back at James, who’s still watching me protectively. “You guys are the best.”

When we get back home, I sit James down on the couch. His hand is bruised, the knuckles swollen and slightly bloodied from the punch he threw. I kneel in front of him, gently cradling his hand in mine, feeling the warmth of his skin against my fingers as I grab the first-aid kit from under the sink.“You didn’t have to hit him so hard, you know,” I say softly, though my heart swells with gratitude for how fiercely he protected me.

James’ eyes follow my movements as I begin cleaning his knuckles. “He had it coming,” he mutters, wincing slightly as I dab some antiseptic on the cut. “I wasn’t about to let him talk about you like that. Let alone touch you.”I glance up at him, meeting his intense gaze. His protective nature always makes me feel safe, but tonight, it was on another level. “I could’ve handled it,” I tease, even though we both know that situation could’ve gotten a lot worse if James hadn’t stepped in when he did.

He smirks slightly, but the anger still lingers in his eyes. “I know you can handle yourself. But I won’t let anyone treat you that way.” With careful fingers, I apply a soothing ointment to the bruises forming on his knuckles, watching as the redness begins to fade under my touch. Each gentle stroke is deliberate, and I can feel the tension in his muscles ease a little. He watches me with an intensity that makes my heart race.

As I wrap a soft bandage around his hand, I notice the redness and swelling, remnants of the fight. It’s not quite a bruise yet, but I know it will be. I frown, wishing he hadn’t had to get hurt at all. “You’re going to have to be more careful next time, you know,” I say playfully, trying to lighten the mood even though I’m genuinely concerned.“I can’t promise that,” he replies, his voice low and serious. “Not when it comes to you.”

I finish wrapping his hand with a soft bandage, but before I can even stand, James leans forward and pulls me into his arms, his embrace warm and protective. I sink into him, letting the weight of the evening fall away. His hands slide up my back, his touch gentle despite the tension still simmering beneath the surface.

“Thank you for tonight,” I say softly, my heart swelling with appreciation. “For protecting me and for being you.”James’ gaze softens, and he reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I’d do it a thousand times over.”

His hand brushes against my cheek, and I lean into his touch, feeling the warmth radiate from him. “I know,” I whisper, feeling a mix of admiration and love. “But it still means the world to me.”Without another word, he leans forward, capturing my lips in a soft kiss. It’s tender at first, filled with the weight of everything that’s happened, but quickly deepens as the passion between us ignites. His hands cradle my face, pulling me closer, as if he’s trying to meld us into one.

When we finally pull away, breathless and a little dazed, he rests his forehead against mine. “I’ll always protect you,” he whispers, his voice low and earnest, “you mean everything to me”

My heart swells at his words. “And I’ll always be here for you,” I reply, my voice steady. “No matter what.”In that moment, it feels like nothing else matters—just the connection we share and the understanding that we’ll face whatever comes our way together.

[shoujoboy-restart]

Before people start with overly politically correct and pearl clutching cries of democrats calling republicans and trumpist "weird": Empathy without reciprocity is self harm caused by someone else's hand.

We are not calling JD Vance and Trump weird because they use fursuits, have speech impediment, no social cues and like doing character MHA roleplays where they can't keep their hands below their waist and make faces.

Trump, Vance and republican politicians are being called weird because they fucking are.

Someone who does puppy play in a closed environment where fetishism is explicit and regulated gets called a degenerate while WEIRDO Lauren Bobert heckles at Beetlejuice musical while gooning and getting fingered by some sugar daddy and it's doesn't even become a topic for news for more than a day

Someone who talks about how we need to make sure Sex Ed is more complex and direct because children do in fact sexually experiment and it's a billion times better for teens to responsibility have experiences with each other instead of being abused by adults is called groomers while every other fucking republican politician and right wing figure head has bizarre comments about impregnating and marrying teenagers at best and that girls young as 10 should be "allowed" to become mothers at worst and again it gets no real attention.

You are not a racist, you are not misogynist, your are not someone who wants to remove people's rights, you are not someone who sees others a lesser human, you are not someone who wants to indoctrinate children, you are not someone who wants legal slaves, you are not someone who wants a women with pregnancy complications yo give birth to a corpse.

YOU. ARE. NOT. WEIRD. LIKE. CURRENT. REPUBLICANS.

You have nothing in common with those people because you have unpalatable autism, have weird interests and quircks, acts bizarre by yourself and lacks a bit of self awareness to know when being quiet wouldn't bring as many eyes to you. Those people want to bring back asylums and force you in them, they want your parents who never took your conditions and feelings seriously to have forever control of you, they want you to never experiment with your different gender expression and be threatened with imprisonment and slander for it.

They want you to be miserable just like the worst moments of your life in every aspect possible in legal backing and incentive to do so.

TRUMP IS WEIRD.

JD VANCE IS WEIRD.

AND REPUBLICANS ARE FUCKING WEIRD.

And you have nothing in common with them nor any reason to feel empathy and sympathy for those who want to restrict and take othe peoples rights away...right?

[izvmimi]

love is here - izuku x reader, all might x inko

cw: fluff, smut, domestic, valentine's day content. bkg with mentioned female partner. pregnancy mention. minors dni. summary: you and Izuku decide to celebrate another couple's love this Valentine's Day. a/n: a repost from last year's valentines' day fic because i still think it's cute. features 1 terrible joke.

“Red or white?”

While checking the chicken cutlets still browning in the oven, you reflexively call out in reply,

“Red. Has to be red.”

“Of course.”

Closing the oven door, you glance over at Izuku who is hunched over in the glass cabinet in the portion of the living room you can see from your vantage point, and hear the clinking of glass bottles as your husband rummages through your admittedly small stores of alcohol. He pulls out a classic Pinot, and you recognize it as the pretty expensive one Bakugou and his wife (well mostly his wife, really) offered you months ago when you’d first moved into this new home. 

“This one?” He asks.

You tilt your head slightly, pondering. “Does your mom even like red wine at all?”

“I’m actually not sure,” he thinks, frowning as he attempts to recall any time he might have caught her drinking.

You purse your lips. “I think we have a Riesling in there. It’s sweet, she might like it,” you ask, before turning back to the kitchen to set up the rest of the dinner items.

Taking a glance at your phone, you check to see if Toshinori has replied to your text message requesting his ETA. The last answer you have from him is a sticker of his own face giving you a thumbs up and it makes you stifle a laugh. It kills you every time he does it, truly Dad behavior. 

As Izuku rounds the corner of the kitchen island to place the bottles within a decorative ice bucket on the dining table, he presses a kiss to your forehead. You smile, but then you remember his earlier deceit and shake your head.

“I cannot believe you told Inko I was pregnant!” 

He rearranges the bottles as well as a large bouquet of red, pink and white roses with a devious grin on his face, then raises an eyebrow at you.

“Is it really that bad?” He asks, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “It’s just a little white lie.”

“Villain,” you mutter under your breath just as your timer goes off. He laughs out loud. 

The next few moments involve you laying down two fine placemats across from each other, your nicest china, far too much cutlery (based on a guide both of you read about fine dining), and sparkling crystal glasses. Herbed chicken parmesan, steaming buttery lobster, roasted brussels sprouts, garlicky mashed potatoes, and angel hair pasta lightly tossed with olive oil and stewed grape tomatoes are set on the table along a light salad. You remembered something about All Might liking Western food and wondered if this was what he was thinking of. 

Then you suddenly remembered something else.

“Oh noooo, he doesn’t drink!” you exclaim. Before you can scramble for non-alcoholic options, Izuku has placed a particularly decorative container of sparkling water on the table.

“Just ahead of you,” he says. Always ready to save the day.

Water seems a little lackluster for a romantic dinner, you consider grumbling, but the table looks so beautiful by now that you decide not to let the perfect be the enemy of the good. 

“Everything looks amazing!” You announce, clasping your hands together. Izuku agrees and starts the music while you lower the lights, a very light jazzy mix, and as though right on cue, you hear a knock on the door while Izuku begins to light the red and pink candles one by one.

It’s Inko.

She’s dressed far nicer than you usually see her, green locks fully down for once, and you can tell that she’s taken her time to actually perform the skincare routine you’d recommended for her. In fact, you consider that her skin looks a lot healthier than yours and it brings you joy. There’s even a tiny bit of blush she’s applied to her cheeks and a touch of lipstick. The greatest thing she wears however, aside from her coral pink sheath dress, is a wide smile.

“___, congratulations!”

Your mother-in-law envelops you into a hug and for a moment her genuine unbridled joy makes you feel bad that Deku had come up with such a bad lie. You mentally remind yourself to scold him later a second time as you hug her back.

“I- uh… Yeah!” There’s an awkward laugh you let out as she pulls back and holds you by your arms, small tears of joy forming in her eyes. Your stomach turns.

“He told me there would be pictures so I dressed up and-” she starts, but by this time Izuku senses your discomfort and swoops in between you to give his mother a warm hug, then leads her to her seat. 

Inko is asking so many questions - How many weeks? Have we thought of names? Are you doing okay? Are you nervous? - that she doesn’t realize her son has sat her down and unraveled a napkin to place on her lap. Nor has she noticed that there are only two placemats laid out, or that you have just gotten a text from Toshinori that says he’ll be there in five minutes.

Smiling as Izuku stands besides her and deflects all her questions, you wonder if all of this is ethical. You may be teasing Izuku for his lie, but you’ve also told All Might that you were surprising Izuku for his birthday and throwing a party.

“That’s five months early?!” He’d asked on the phone.

To which, you sang, “That’s why it’s the perfect surprise!”

You’d given him too short of a notice to ask too many questions, and it worked out perfectly well because you could hear a second knock on your door.

As Inko’s eyes flitted to the door, her frown made it clear that she was realizing something was fishy.

“Am I missing something here?” she started, but before she could press further, All Might all but burst through the door, in powered up form and in a finely pressed shirt and tie, with his signature catchphrase - 

“I AM HE-”

He stops abruptly, blinking back and forth as he searches the room significantly lacking in people, slightly dark with mood lighting, and his eyes finally settle on Inko.

And he realizes just before she does.

Inko gets to her feet quickly, immediately apologizing at the squeak of the legs of the chair scraping against the floor as she scoots back, but points at All Might.

“You are-”

“Here,” they say in unison.

All Might nearly chokes as he powers down in a poof and slightly entertained but holding in your amusement, you pat his back, leading him to the seat across from Inko, who is being settled right back into her chair by Izuku massaging her shoulders.

“You tricked me,” Toshinori mutters helplessly under his breath, and you nod sweetly.

“Of course I did, All Might,” you say, patting his shoulder. He gives you a sharp glare behind him, meant to intimidate but failing miserably, then turns back to stare down at his plate.

It doesn’t take a genius to realize what’s going on here. You can see the redness on Toshinori’s sallow cheeks and it actually stirs your heart a little. 

Izuku turns down the music from the speaker set on the bar for just a moment before clasping his hands together.

“Yes, so we lied!” He announces. “But!”

He pauses and points to the spread before them. “____ did a lovely job today with all the cooking, and we wanted to spend this Valentines’ Day focused less on us…”

With this, he takes hold of your hand and squeezes it and you can’t stop the warmth that builds in your own face. 

“… and on the two of you.”

Inko gives Izuku a look that is something like a pout but she stays seated. All Might on the other hand shifts almost uncomfortably in his chair for a moment, and for a split second you wonder, standing close to Izuku and whispering, did we go too far? in his ear, if All Might will end up leaving and making the whole ordeal genuinely uncomfortable.

But then, he clears his throat.

“M-Midoriya-san, you look lovely,” he says definitively and almost in unison, you and Izuku’s hearts skip a beat. You’re probably boring a hole in Inko’s forehead at this point as you wait for her reply, and just to make sure you don’t continue to stand there creepily you nudge Izuku to start pouring drinks.

“Thank you,” she says after a pause. Her voice is gentle. “You look quite handsome yourself.”

You almost knock over her glass of red wine in surprise and Izuku’s eyes widen in your direction, but he himself is dangerously close to overflowing Toshinori’s glass. 

You make a face and he catches himself. You both agree that it’s time to leave.

After describing the menu lightly, the two of you let them know that you’ll be returning in a couple hours and have reservations of your own. Inko mutters something teasing about being cheap to one’s parents but heavily compliments the food regardless. You notice her generously spooning pasta onto Toshinori’s plate and his distracted look as he focuses on her face.

This ship will sail, you think.

“The car’s waiting for us,” Izuku points out, grinning, as you run over with a last glance at Izuku’s parental figures. He helps you put on your coat, and you hug him tightly as the door closes behind you.

…

By the time the two of you return, it’s fairly late. You’d been polite enough to send a message to Inko and ask her if she needed more time, and she had asked for 45 more minutes, to which Izuku responded with sheer delight.

“She’s been lonely for a while to be honest,” Izuku mentions as you make it up the elevator. “I wish I had realized it earlier.”

It must have been different for Izuku who had met Toshinori young, when the wistful look had not been present in Inko’s eyes, but you’d sensed it the first time you saw Inko and All Might interact. A little something, that was subtle and polite and respected boundaries, but ever-present and shared. Was it their shared hope for Izuku’s growth? Was it something more than that? You would never truly know what it was that engendered that affection but it didn’t really matter.

What did matter was that when you finally returned, All Might’s hand held Inko’s gently across the table. He did retreat rapidly once he saw the two of you and you only pretend to bounce your eyes for privacy.

“Did you enjoy the food?” Izuku asks cheerfully, as he clears the dishes and the leftovers for them. The Riesling is nearly gone, you notice, and you wonder if All Might had ended up helping finish off the bottle.

“Absolutely!” They say in unison, then look at each other again, and you can see that gentle fire between them that rivals the still burning candles surrounding them.

“Good,” you reply. Very good.

You sit down at the table with them and share in gentle commentary and a little bit of banter before the two are ready to make their exit and relish in the genuine smile on Inko’s face.

She’s cute when she crushes, you think. It’s another side of the lovely woman who made the one you love, and you can’t wait to tease her about it later, if only to get back at her for the fact that before the “real” adults leave, they admonish you for lying.

“Pregnancy?! How could you lie about something so serious, Young Midoriya?!” 

All Might is genuinely in shock as he stands in the doorway and for once Izuku actually is a bit embarrassed because his mentor’s face is so intensely disappointed that there’s not much he can say in response. He scratches at the back of his neck.

“See, the kids were polite enough to give you a lie that was far less grave… however, how could you seriously believe in a 5 month early surprise party?” Inko asks, slapping All Might with her handbag. He makes an exaggerated pained sound, as though she knocked the wind out of him and she laughs, linking arms with him before they leave.

“Thank you again for dinner,” they say and the two of you beam.

“Our pleasure,” you say in unison then laugh.

—

It takes the changing of clothes into bare skin and soft lingerie, gentle necking between satin sheets and far too many rose petals to completely distract the two of you from the events of earlier today. You are comfortably nestled in Izuku’s arms, legs tangled with his and face pressed into his bare chest until he stirs suddenly.

“Oh my God.”

Izuku shoots up straight like a board and you can practically feel the sudden sharp panic run through his entire body. He’s muttering something unintelligible under his breath and you give him a look of confusion until he finally speaks.

“What if he Plus Ultras my mom?”

“… What?” You repeat, incredulously.

He clutches his head dramatically.

“H-he’s going to have sex…with my…” his mouth falters.

You gasp when you finally realize what he means, then pause for a moment before bursting into genuine rip-roaring laughter. Izuku stares at you in continued distress as you end up in tears, covering your face with a pillow, peeking up at him, then laughing even harder at the pallor in his features.

“You have to be kidding me?! This just occurred to you now???” You crumble into another fit, kicking your legs this time into the  mattress while Izuku is frozen as still as a statue.

He might as well be shell-shocked.

A few moments pass as you try to recollect yourself, and maybe acceptance has finally set in because he mutters under his breath something about this whole ordeal possibly being a mistake, but nevertheless pulls you to face him, cupping your face in his large hands.

“Just don’t think too hard about it,” you whisper, pushing your hand through his locks, gently rubbing the back of his head.

He sighs into your touch.

“If I do, I’ll probably lose my boner,” he says, pursing his lips to the side. You laugh again and he eventually melts into a smile, and kisses you on the nose.

As he pulls back, his demeanor changes into something more smug, a tease. It’s the type of look he has when he’s about to be lewd and it’s a sudden shift but you welcome it.

“What?”

His eyes lower to your lips again, and he bites your lower one, then pulls back slowly.

“You know how I got in trouble for saying you were pregnant?”

“For lying,” you corrected him, with a raised eyebrow. He dips down and bites your upper lip, slower and more sensual this time. The sting of the bite has you wanting for a little more than just kisses, and he’s well aware of it.

He trails a finger up the curve of your thigh then rests his hand on your hip. Rubbing gently, he whispers, tone low and rich.

“What if we made it true tonight?”

Your throat dries and you swallow hard. He takes it as a yes and hooks a finger around the crotch of your panties, then another finger rubs up and down your slit. He stops right at the entrance to your pussy and presses inward. You wince. 

A thumb finds your clit and his lips find yours again. There’s a deeper kiss this time, and he pulls back once again.

“What do you think?” He asks, and the fact that he is starting to take more strained breaths is not lost on you. 

“Are you sure you can guarantee that in one night?” He’s far too confident, and you do like to shake it teasingly, once in a while.

“It’s not like I didn’t do the math,” he says. “You should be right around ovulation based on the last time I did a tampon and ice cream run for you,” he insists.

His fingers are still working and you gasp as he adds another.

“Izuku…,” you moan.

“I just need to cum inside you,” he insists, and with that he shifts so that he’s on top of you, hissing into your ear as your back arches and his hands pump.

“Once, twice… maybe ten times,” he says, with extra emphasis on the word ‘ten’, his fingers freeing themselves from the hold of your walls. You already miss the sensation of him inside you, and you grip his shoulders tightly.

“How’s that sound?” He asks, watching the lowering of your eyelids and the parting of your lips,  your green lights.

You tense as he dips down to take a breast in his mouth, then relax, wrapping your arms around the expanse of his muscled back.

You don’t mind giving birth to a Scorpio.

“Let’s make an honest man out of you,” you murmur into his neck, bracing yourself for his first glide in.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Vin Jin x Reader: Studying

Vin helps you to study. Shocking.

Music Theory.

The bane of your existence. You hate this goddamn module. You hate there's an exam coming up accounting for 30% of your overall grade. You hate it with every fiber of your being.

Ugh.

"What's this bullshit?" Vin leans over your right shoulder, face just inches from yours, bluelight from the laptop screen reflecting off his sunglasses.

"Bull. Shit." you respond, punctuating each syllable with contempt.

You study his profile, the angle of his sharp jawline, the way his lips slightly parts when concentrating. Listening to his soft breaths, the pattern of his easy inhales and exhales; a brief moment of peace from your academic headaches.

After a beat, he turns towards you with a patronising grin. Your eyes flicker again to his lips.

"Dumbass. You don't get tonal harmony? It's easy as shit."

Vin's grin doesn't fade when you glower at him, though he does pull up a chair.

With his arm around you, he fills the rest of your night with his voice. Talking to you about tonal centres and dominant functions until your head swims.

In the early hours of the morning, with Vin still by your side, it sinks in. You didn't think he had the patience.

.

.

You both fall into a rhythm.

Vin seeks you out most evenings, where you're sitting in the library with your head in your hands, hair looking further frazzled as the exam date creeps closer, the bags becoming more pronounced under your eyes.

He mocks you for your stupidity, "It's simple, dipshit." Laughs at your idiocy when he repeats something for the third time, chest puffing with pride at how easily he gets this, how music just comes naturally to him, he doesn't need to study. Competitive streak never giving up even where you are concerned.

And when finally, it clicks, he makes fun of your appearance instead.

"You look like shit," he deadpans. "Duke Pyeon, is that you?"

Vin, as always, is merciless and relentless; taking far too much enjoyment from his barbed snipes.

But he feels the ripples beneath the surface, under his own persona he has carefully curated over the years.

Without fail, he brings you snacks and drinks, moaning about you wasting his time and money. You didn't even ask.

Notices your exasperated movements when he scrolls through notifications and messages, and his attention should be elsewhere. He pockets his phone with a put-upon sigh, as if he wasn't waiting for his next cue.

Ruffles your hair roughly after you correctly answer a question, making it look uncannily like a bird's nest. Yet his pulse staccatos when you peer up at him with an annoyed expression.

Leans closer under the guise of reading what's on the screen, until his body is touching yours and he can feel the quickening of your heartbeat.

The tempo of his matches yours.

.

.

After the exam, you sprint out of the hall, relishing your freedom.

Under a gingko tree, Vin waits for you, though he will deny this to the end.

He brags about how the top marks are his, there's no way he didn't get 100%, maybe even 101%. Because he's just that good.

And you can't help but agree. He really is that good.

He calls you stupid, and would be surprised if you pass.

Vin's words are cutting except his blades are blunt. The insult lands on deaf ears and bounces off, never intending to hurt in the first place.

Then he changes tact, and instead if you do pass then it's all because of him. That you owe him one, he's very in-demand he'll have you know, he's wasted so much time with you, you better show how grateful you are-

You feelings reach a crescendo.

His mouth runs, but your heart sprints and you can't take it any more.

Up on your tiptoes, bodies lightly grazing, you press your lips to his.

Behind his sunglasses, Vin stares at you in shock and his body freezes.

There's a racing pulse but it's impossible to tell whether it belongs to you or him.

Just as you begin to regret your decision and pull away, breaking the connection-

Vin's arms snake around your waist, holding you tightly chest-to-chest and continuing where you left off.

You kiss again and it's a symphony.