#but also can we stop and think about it for a moment:

[l-in-the-light]

This cultural mechanism of denying humanity of certain individuals (most often villains) has a name. Rene Girard wrote about it in his book called The Scapegoat. I tried finding ANY reblog of this post which actually mentions this, but despite scrolling through at least half of reblogs, I couldn't find it, which means even if someone did point it out then it still went pretty much unnoticed.

We all know who or what a scapegoat is. It's that thing or that person, the root of evil, the source of chaos, the troublemaker, the trickster disrupting the long established safety and order (which is, ofc, the ultimate good). If you only get rid of the problematic individual, everything will be okay again. That's how it works. But there's a problem with it. There's never one scapegoat. After one comes another, and another, and another, till you get hundreds and thousands of them and you can't fit them in one neat grave or prison anymore. They keep coming and there will be more and more of them, this will never stop, because it's a cycle. A cycle of violence. If you really want for "things to be okay", you need to break that cycle, instead of finding YET another scapegoat, yet another villain to bury for all of our sins. By sacrficing another villain, another victim, another scapegoat on the altar of society, you only support the cycle to keep on going.

Yes, you heard me right. Villains are scapegoats. But victims ARE scapegoats as well. Anyone we forcefully silence and refuse to give agency to is the scapegoat. The homeless, the LGBT, the mentally different, any disabled people etc. Anyone who fits into a very broad category of "otherness". But here's the catch. Because this category is so broad it's very easy to become that "other". That's why people are willing to go to extreme lengths just to make sure no one sees them as "other". They will deny their disabilities, they will deny they're not like those "others", they will even deny their own struggles, just to fit into the safe mold of "normal". And if you silence yourself just because you're afraid you might be the next one victimized or villainized, you're also a scapegoat, btw. Your inner life and self-consistency is the sacrifice on the altar of society that doesn't care if you actually have a heart. All it cares about is for you to make sure you're "normal", which has a very murky definition too. Who's normal? The one who acts like the majority of others? The one who has the applause? (applause can be shortlived and depends on trends, it's dangerous, you're dancing on the edge). Every time we see someone as the "other" we judge, we're scapegoating them. Yes, all of us, by succumbing to our fear of being judged, contribute to this mechanism. Otherwise the seams of the society might fall apart and we can all turn against each other, we can rip apart the system, they warn us of anarchy, you might get killed in the middle of the street, there will be no police to guard the order, no prisons to keep the bad eggs away from you. Stay quiet, endure, it's for the safety of all of us.

No one should have to carry that weight of the whole world on their own shoulders. Not like this. But we do, every single day.

We're all capable of being bad people and often are. But we also all want to believe we're good. People think if someone didn't get love there's a reason of why they didn't receive it. That belief didn't come out of nowhere. It's internalized violence and judgemental mentality. You prefer to doom someone else as long as it saves yourself from being doomed. You're not only hurting others with it, but YOURSELF as well in the process. You get rid of your true empathy for others, you decide whose pain or suffering is the one "worthy" of acceptance and which is not and needs to be condemned. You can't afford that empathy for anyone else than you after a while, after all you live in constant, silent fear of "being next" if you just stop for a moment and look too long at the scapegoats buried around you. And what you fail to see is that you're also a scapegoat. If we all accept each other and ourselves as "others", if we're all just different people and no one is normal anymore, will this finally break the cycle?

You want to feel like a good person? Of course, we all do. But you can't achieve that if you're too afraid to look into the abyss/mirror and realize you also do bad things. You also need to redeem yourself. You can do better, but it's not easy. You know what's easy instead? Finding a scapegoat and blaming them for their own misery. Literally requires no work, the world will applause you and all you need to do is repeat same words after others. The mechanism works like a perpetuum mobile at this point, it will mostly do this job for you. Just take a stand, deem the villains, blame the victims, ignore the struggles and pain of others.

But here's the catch. If you're too cold, you're also gonna be judged and called a psychopath. That's also a no-no, you're becoming the unacceptable "other" again. You have to show, in specific, allowed circumenstances, that you feel sorry for others. That you know how to choose the "right" side. That you understand "good" needs sacrfices and sometimes you're even expected to cry for them. And if you see those sacrfices as not-human "others", it's easier to accept it all.

Many people claim how scary it is to face certain truths, like "victims can turn into villains too", but the real truth no one wants to face is actually this: we allowed this to happen. We allowed the villains to be formed, all of us. Every time we engage in judgemental actions, every time we police someone dealing with their pain "in wrong way", every time we call someone "born evil". Every time we point a finger and call someone a villain, a victim, a barbarian, the other. By doing that we trap them in endless world of pain and suffering and abuse. They also want to be out of that cycle, but we keep trapping them, by silencing them and adding our own narrative on top. They suffer for our sins. Because they're our scapegoat, the sacrifice we made to keep on going, thinking how good this world is and how much worse it could have been, just look in the right places. Just don't look at the scapegoats too long. They corrupt. Maybe their otherness is even contagious, so stay as far away from them as possible.

You're allowed to be mad about this, btw. Anger is a neccessary emotion, it points at injustice done to you. But the society wants you to throw that emotion away and supress it, so you're tamed and silenced. It might even create a "safe space" to vent it out, by encouragig you into physical activities or taking part in some entertainment, so you can lose your steam in a way that doesn't challenge the system. It's a distraction. (the point here isn't to condemn sport or popculture btw, it just serves as an example, ok?)

All communities work like this. We're all trapped in endless cycle of violence. We bury endless scapegoats under our communities, they become our foundations. After all, nothing unites different people better than finding a common villain, it's us (the good) vs them (the evil). Wait, did I just say "different people"? But we're supposed to be all the same! No, that's a myth. We were all always different. We just have to choose who is "more different than others", so we can unite ourselves against them.

You know what that reminds me of? "We're all equal. But some are more equal than others". Animal farm was about power structures. By accepting easy scapegoats, by abiding to this mechanism, we support the power system that oppresses us. Think about it. Our civilisation is build on this and it would not thrive the way it did without the scapegoats.

And all of you blaming christianity for this instead, you need to understand one thing. What Jesus taught was actually the reverse of scapegoating. “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her”. This is literally Jesus telling people "you all have sinned, so why are you judging them if you don't judge yourself?". What you all mean by christian/puritanist beliefs is how christianity got distorted and institutionalized into a power abusing system called religion. Swallowed up by what it tried to fight against. Always identify the actual source of abuse, instead of doing more scapegoating. I'm in no way inclined to defend christianity (not in the form it exists now), but also if we keep on muddling the truth we will always make the same mistake, so, always dig deeper to avoid it. Thank you.

not to post even more Villains Discourse on main but it really bugs me how people read giving villains tragic backstories as inherently excusing their actions and/or demonizing trauma survivors.

the actual message of Tragic Villains is (almost) always “people who are never taught or given any healthy, constructive outlets for their emotions will often find unhealthy, destructive outlets.” it’s that people who are traumatized and never learn how to cope with that trauma can become a danger to themselves and others. the message isn’t “trauma makes you evil!!!!” or “genocide is okay if you’ve been sad before!!!!” it’s “people need compassion and help to recover from trauma instead of becoming increasingly angry and harming themselves and others in the process.”

this site takes an alarmingly behaviorist and punitive approach to everything and it’s literally the most annoying thing. y’all have this concept that “if we just punish people hard enough, if we just scare them enough, if we just make them feel guilty enough.” that people just Do Bad Things Because They Do Bad Things, I Guess, and Because We Didn’t Threaten Them And Shame Them Enough. but humans are an innately social species. at our very core, we need compassion and kindness. we need healthy relationships with other humans.

you can keep looking at traumatized villains and being like “haha this dumb pathetic sadboi thinks murder is okay because his parents died” but as a survivor myself, unaddressed/untreated trauma absolutely can make you ragey and destructive. i was lucky enough to have support and eventually get the treatment i needed. but it’s not hard at all for me to imagine how, if that hadn’t been the case, that could’ve been me. obviously not on a movie-villain scale like murder or war crimes, but it’s so irritating as someone whose trauma has always manifested as anger to watch people on this site be like “this is just bad writing!!! real survivors/good survivors don’t end up like that the writers just hate survivors and want the audience to condone murder!”

[captain-huggy-bear]

"Can- Can you come over please?" (I believe prompt list 1 number 80?) with whoever you're inspired for please 😊 thank you! - em

Em, it was giving soft boy Luke who's maybe feeling shitty after a bad game, so I hope you like it. First time writing Luke so I'm super sorry if it doesn't feel right for him (as we think of him because obvs we don't know him but still) Also I like how I was like let's write something short and then...just kept writing...😂 Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :) Writing Masterlist

You'd been friends with Luke Hughes for almost as long as he'd been in New Jersey, both of you new to the city at the time had stumbled into each other quite literally one wintery afternoon. Your coffee going all over his hoodie, his doughnut squishing chocolate icing over your sweater. You'd expected him to yell, instead you learnt that day how utterly sweet and kind Luke Hughes was. He replaced your coffee and refused to let you buy him a new doughnut, but did let you invite him over so you could put some stain remover on his hoodie.

You might be thinking, 'are you crazy? Inviting a strange man to your apartment?', but you can only explain your risk through two pieces of information: 1) You knew roughly who he was. You weren't a fan of his by any means but you followed Hockey and had heard about the newest addition to the Devils, so you at least knew he wasn't a criminal, 2) Luke Hughes had been wearing snoopy socks and something about that had screamed 'non-threatening'.

Looking back it was probably slightly insane on your part, but it bagged you a close friend who you may or may not have had a massive crush on, so you couldn't really say you regretted risking it.

It wasn't unusual for Luke to phone you after a game, more often than not you got a quick phone call or a few texts sent through while he was out celebrating or commisserating with the team, often being invited out even when he knew you weren't much for late nights out on the town.

It was unusual though for that phone call to come in at 1 in the morning while you were sleeping.

You're groggy and half awake, hand patting the bedside table until you grip your phone, Luke's ringtone blarring through the speakers only because he was one of your few exceptions. One of a handful of people who could call you after 11pm without being sent straight to voicemail, the others being your family.

"Lukey? It's..." You stop to squint at your alarm clock, "1:41 in the morning, what's wrong?" You knew the game had ended late, but Luke should have been in bed by now or he should have been out partying with Jack and the boys, definitely not phoning you. You half expected him to be drunk on the other end of the line, maybe having phoned you while out with the team.

Instead his breath is shaky on the other end of the line, voice raspy like he's been crying and that's what has you sitting upright and swinging your legs out of bed before he even finishes his question.

"Can- Can you come over please?" His voice is scratchy and strained, a rasp that sounds defeated. You don't even considering getting changed from your pajamas, you just throw a jacket on from your closet.

"Yeah, yeah, of course, what's wrong?"

"Just...just come over please, angel" You're quick timing it as you shove your feet in a pair of shoes and grab your keys off the side, locking your apartment door behind you. It didn't matter to you that it was nearly 2am or that you hadn't brushed your hair or that you were half-asleep, all that mattered was Luke and the way he sounded like the world might be just a little too much for him right now.

"Okay, okay, want me to stay on the line?"

"No, just...drive safe?" You pause in the hallway, heart hurting at his concern, that even now when he's begging for your help he cares that you're safe.

"Yeah, course, Lu, i'm leaving right now, sweetheart." He lets out a shuddering breath on the line, right before he hangs up and you're certain you might cry because God, Luke shouldn't sound like that, so utterly defeated, so fragile.

You do your best to honour his request on the drive to his and Jack's apartment, even as you want to break a hundred traffic laws just to get there sooner, but you don't. It doesn't take long, but ten minutes feels like one hundred when all you want is to be see Luke and make sure he's okay.

He's at the door from the first knock and you don't say anything, just take him in. His tall form hunched at the shoulders like he's trying to hide within his hoodie, hood pulled over his head and eyes red rimmed, blotchy. There are dark, deep circles beneath his eyes and his lip is bruised and split, a few neatly placed stitches holding it together.

You don't say anything, just step forward and wrap him in your arms as best you can, tiptoeing to press your chin to his shoulder, arms tight around him as if you can protect him from whatever is going on in his head.

He grasps as you like you're a lifeline, fingers digging into your jacket, face pressed so tight to the crook of your neck that you're certain he'll fuse there.

He doesn't protest when you pull him into his apartment, door slamming shut. Doesn't protest when you pull him to his room, asking where Jack is, only to get a short clipped reply of 'club'. Doesn't protest when you sit him on his bed and join him, shoes being kicked off. It's not until you try to pull away from him that he really seems to come to life, hands grasping you firmer, pulling you back, "Don't go, please don't go..."

"'m not going anywhere, Lu, it's okay..." You pull back just enough that you can pull his hood back, fingers carding through his brown curls gently like he might break. "What happened?"

"Just needed you..." His face presses back into your shoulder as your fingers work through his hair like it's a perfectly normal thing to say to your best friend, like he didn't call because he had a shit game, because he doesn't want to talk about it."

"Lu...talk to me, baby"

There's a stark silence, broken only by a shaky breathe that comes from Luke as if the idea of talking is enough to make him cry for the second time that night. "I'm...i'm not good enough for the team, did a shit job tonight and we lost...it's my fault. Played like shit."

"What did Jack say?" You're gentle with it, soft voice, soft fingers on the nape of his neck. It's silly, he knows he's being dramatic, he also knows that it's not a friend thing to do. Knows he wouldn't call any of his other friends at near 2am because he needs them, knows he wouldn't beg for their fingers in his hair to sooth him or feel better just by the smell of their laundry detergent and shampoo. Luke knows he called you because he loves you, pretty sure he loved you the moment you excitedly showed him you'd gotten the coffee stain out of his UMIC hoodie.

"I was being too hard on myself, that it wasn't the 'Luke Hughes show'." He immitates Jack's voice, a pouty sort of tone riding his voice because he knows his brother is right even if he refused to sit moping with him and went out drinking instead.

"He's right. Hockey is a team sport, Luke, you aren't even on the ice the entire time! You do not get to decide that you're the reason a game is won or lost, you don't get to shoulder that."

"But.." Your palms cup his face, pulling him up to look at you. Your face is dead serious brows furrowed, lips pursed.

"No, you're a good hockey player. They picked you to play for them because of what you bring to the table and maybe you didn't play your best tonight , but you deserve to be on the team. You can't always be at 100." Your thumbs brush his cheeks under his eyes, like you might be able to wipe away the dark bags there. He looks worn, exhausted, tears just welling in those green eyes of his.

You're not entirely sure he believes you, "If I said I wasn't good enough because I had a bad day at work, what would you say to me?"

"To shut up and stop being mean to yourself..." Luke frowns at you like you're insane for even suggesting something like that, and it's what makes you smile for the first time that night, as if to say I told you so.

"Exactly, so stop being mean to yourself, Lu. You're amazing, i'm always in awe of how you skate..." You brush a curl from his eyes and watch them flutter closed slightly, throat tightening a little because you know this isn't the way you're supposed to feel about your best friend.

"Really?"

"Really..." You watch him carefully, the way he just leans more into your hands like he trusts you entirely to hold him up, the deep swelling of his lip, the beauty marks across his cheeks. "What do you need from me, right now?"

He takes a moment, like the words are stuck on the tip of his tongue whether unsure of how to ask or worried to make things weird. Both of you always toeing the line between friends and something decidedly more romantic.

"Can...can you just hold me? Just stay the night?" He blinks up at you with such big sweet eyes that you're not sure anyone would be able to refuse him, so you don't.

"I can do that."

You treat him delicately, like he's not a nearly 200 pound hockey player that regularly gets body slammed against boards and ice, who's covered in bruises and currently sporting a split lip. You pull him to lie down with you, curling around him like a protective blanket, pulling his face back into the crook of your neck, legs twisting with his. It's definitely not what friends do, but it's what he needs, so he grips you back tight, presses his face firmly into your neck and pulls your leg over his hip to be as close as possible.

You don't move more than the brush of fingers through his hair or down his arm, across his back. Even when you can hear soft snores, the sign of him having fallen asleep, you don't move because as much as Luke said he need this, you kind of need this too.

[biancadoes1]

Since their Twitter days, Luke and Nicola knew people were shipping them, their social media interaction was flirty/cute. During the WT we saw that in person. That man did not care he was in a relationship with Jade to stop the shipping discussion (I also think at that time the shipping ok, it was not as invasive as now). I think at some point they would have crossed paths even if they weren't on Bton as they admitted they have mutual friends. Luke and Nicola are part of each other's lives and just because we don't see them interacting online like before we know they're still close. She knew all the concerts he attended, she knows that man's shirt size to be able to buy stuff for him and um...she bakes crumble for him so good he sounds like he'll get an orgasm just thinking about it. He bought her a camera, obviously to buy that he had to pay close attention to know what she likes. He messaged her 1st on her birthday which means he was probably waiting until the clock struck 12.00 to send her bday wishes. This was info they volunteered to tell us.

They also text outside of work a lot, again info they told us. They may not have spoken about the amount of in person interaction they have as they know the fans will want more especially if they want that part of their friendship/relationship to be private. I guess some folks missed the look in their eyes when they posted the S4 selfie. That wasn't acting at all that was a love for each other that was built overtime with trust and understanding.

The interview with Claudia and Nicola when they spoke about their preference for friends to lovers/enemies to lovers and they chose friends to lovers, Claudia then said "it worked out for you and me". Nicola clearly got thrown off guard because she was probably thinking the fans will get too much personal info. I mean come on, the cast and film crew get giddy when speaking about the 2 of them not only as Polin but as Luke and Nicola. They know both of them have that bond and that is something that is unique to them. The cast doesn't speak about the other couples and get giddy like they do with Nicola and Luke. Not saying there is no chemistry with the other couples but you can tell they see and Nicola and Luke differently. The BTS footage shows how they're a natural pull towards each other during moments of filming and when they were just hanging around waiting to start filming. For people to find issues with their relationship to prove a "beefing" point is really nonsense.

.

[thewistlingbadger]

Analyzing Viktor's eyes:

We've talked about how Jayce is never repulsed or afraid of the major changes to Viktor's body and accepts him instantly whenever he sees something that should not be the way it is when it comes to Viktor's body. What we have YET to talk about is just how Jayce doesn't turn away from Viktor's purple and metal body, he does not turn away from Viktor's steel and muted eyes and I think this is VERY IMPORTANT.

Because in season two Viktor's eyes are somewhat symbolic of his humanity. Viktor's eyes are naturally yellow and are one of the most distinctive elements to his design but after his transfusion with the hexcore they become this empty gray that sometimes changes color. It looks very weird and inhuman and nothing like Viktor. The only time we see Viktor's natural eyes in season two is in the astral plane, where he also maintains his season one hairstyle and features and build. However once Viktor goes full machine herald his eyes are completely gone. His face is split in half and the eyes of his mask contain no pupil or iris. It is only two glowing slits of yellow, both in the astral plane and in the actual world (although in the actual world Viktor's "eyes" actually take on a spherical shape but still it is literally just two glowing spheres of yellow). ADDITIONALLY even though is face is split we can still see it under the mask and we see his eyes are CLOSED. As if he is closed off from his humanity after fully becoming the machine herald or just refuses to look at it or the consequences of his actions.

It is JAYCE who's responsible for the return of Viktor's natural eye color once Viktor has become the machine herald. Viktor's machine herald mask in the astral plane BREAKS because of Jayce. Jayce's hug is why we're able to see half of Viktor's mask and half of Viktor's actual face and once Jayce stops hugging him, Viktor's mask is completely gone and we can see BOTH of his eyes again.

This whole journey with Viktor's eyes and the relationship between him and Jayce is very fascinating to me for several reasons:

Jayce took away Viktor's humanity by fusing the hexcore to him. But Jayce is also the same person that made Viktor realize that humanity was beautiful because of its flaws. He is the one that made Viktor human again, literally. Jayce is the reason why Viktor's eyes change color in the first place AND he is also the one that is responsible for them returning to their original color.

Jayce and Viktor spend a lot of time looking at each other throughout the show but ESPECIALLY in season two. The first thing Jayce does when he's actually reunited with Viktor after their initial separation and Jayce's trip to the bad au is STARE AT VIKTOR. Viktor looks so different and is floating in the air and all Jayce could do was stare at him. The next time they meet after this, Viktor tries to hold Jayce's eye contact in the astral plane but Jayce isn't in the astral plane with him. So instead of seeing Viktor's eyes Jayce just sees the cold face of someone Viktor turned into a machine. Jayce looks Viktor in the eye almost the entirety of their finale in the astral plane. The last thing Jayce and Viktor ever do in the show is look at each other AND they spend their final moments in the show facing each other but WITH THEIR EYES CLOSED!

Eye contact is very important to humans. Eyes in general are just really important to humans. Not only for the practical reason, to see things, but also on an emotional and spiritual level. "The eyes are the window to the soul." You can tell a lot about someone by the way their eyes look and how they look when they look at things. The pupils of our eyes grow and shrink based off what we're looking at and sometimes that dilation is in accordance to how much we like something. You can see in the finale that Jayce and Viktor's pupils are practically blown out they're so big. You can communicate a lot just by using your eyes, without ever saying a single word.

Jayce is never really aghast by Viktor's body no matter how horrific it looks because Jayce cares about Viktor. When he sees him on the brink of death in the council room and sees how his leg is glowing purple, his first thought isn't "what the fuck is wrong with Viktor's leg." His first thought is "I have to save Viktor from dying." When Jayce actually got Viktor to the lab and saw the entity of Viktor's body he wasn't thinking about how inhumane and wrong it looked. He was only thinking about how the hexcore better be able to fix Viktor. When Viktor is stable but unresponsive for several days after the transfusion, Jayce isn't thinking about Viktor's notes on his self experimentation or how Viktor's body had several runes carved into it. He was thinking about whether or not Viktor was okay. Whether or not Viktor was going to ever wake up. When Viktor DOES wake up and is entirely purple and shiny and able to walk without a mobility aid and stand up straight without a brace, his first thought is "what the fuck happened to me and to my body? What have I become am I still human what am I?" And Jayce's first thought to seeing a Viktor of purple, metallic flesh is "holy shit, it worked. It worked, Viktor is alive and awake and back." Towards the end of the show when Jayce sees the machine herald for the first time, he isn't terrified by the fact that Viktor is extremely tall and other worldly looking. He isn't disgusted by Viktor's third arm or distorted voice or lack of a face or his unnaturally slim waist. He doesn't even look phased or bothered at all. Instead, one of the first things he says upon seeing the machine herald is "there must be some part of you that's still in there." After this interaction, after Viktor and him fight and it seems like Viktor is going to take his life away from Jayce, Jayce STILL is adamant on the idea that Viktor, his friend, his partner of several years, is still alive. Jayce fully believes that Viktor is still within the machine herald and he has so much faith that he risks his own life and the lives of everyone else on his belief. As Viktor actually begins to turn Jayce into a machine, Jayce spends his last words telling Viktor about how his humanity is beautiful and how he still believes in Viktor. Jayce's wholehearted care for Viktor is what ends up saving everyone! Jayce sees Viktor's body go through horrific transformations throughout the season and it doesn't impact the way he views Viktor in the slightest. He saw the way Viktor's body looked and never asked a single question about it and never asked questions about Viktor's notes on self experimentation. So of course he's not phased by Viktor's eyes being a different color. Jayce is able to see Viktor's humanity even when Viktor doesn't look or act like a human.

But arguably the reason why I find this so fascinating, why I'm so intrigued that Jayce has no concern for the fact that Viktor's eyes are no longer yellow is because Viktor's eyes are arguably Viktor's most important feature TO JAYCE. Viktor's eyes and their color and their intensity is something that Jayce canonically has taken notice of and has found importance in. In the finale montage, we see a shot of Viktor from Jayce's perspective on the night they met. The shot is the exact shot used in the beginning of the show. When you compare the two shots, the one from act 1 s1 and the one from act 3 S2, they are IDENTICAL WITH ONLY ONE MAJOR EXCEPTION. VIKTOR'S EYES. Viktor's eyes in the shot used in the finale are MORE yellow, MORE intense, and more distinct than they were in the original shot at the start of the show. This shot is from Jayce's perspective, so it's showing us how Jayce perceived and remembered Viktor to be. This detail is the reason I even wanted to write this post. Viktor's eyes are clearly an aspect that Jayce pays attention to and yet he didn't utter a single word when he saw that they were completely different.

[kafka-ish]

Art Donaldson would be the perfect person to lose your virginity to. It doesn’t even matter what the context is. Whether or not you’re each other’s firsts, desperately clinging to one another, still fully clothed, both pressing hot and heavy, sloppy, kisses onto your bodies and lips, not caring about the drool and spit, too enamored with the other one, too caught up in the breathless heat of the moment. You two can barely contain yourselves. And of course you want more but you’re somehow both ashamed, too embarrassed to use your words, to say anything that would indicate going further than this. It’s so fucking stupid considering your current position: your neck has already been bitten to the brim, littered with bite marks and bruises and it’s not like you’re exactly shy about rutting yourself against his thigh as a means for friction. Anything you can get, you’ll take; Art’s the same. You can feel his erection through his jeans and you can tell he’s uncomfortable, poor thing, but all you can think about is how big he is underneath them, what his cock looks like, all pretty and pink and weeping, and his even prettier face, what he’ll look like when you blow him. You wonder what kinds of sounds he’ll make, if he’s even louder than when you guys are just making out. So your hand moves down, out of the curiousness of it all, not forgetting to trace his jaw before your fingers ghost over the bulge that pokes at your stomach. You can feel him smile into your lips that this is happening. Even though he’s quiet, you hear him mumble, what are you doing? He sounds shy even when he’s trying to be playful.

“Nothing…” you breathe back, moving your hand away. His breath hitches and he starts to whine once he feels the pads of your fingers on his abdomen. This is your pathetic way of trying to give him a hint: you scratch your nails uselessly at his v-line, then hips before reaching for the hem of his shirt in a lazy attempt to try and remove it.

“Not fair.” He pouts like a girl but all it does is make you want to kiss him more, which you do. You attach your lips to his with more vigor than before. You kiss his stupid pout until it’s gone and he’s groaning, a fucking mess with his mouth open; he has to pull you apart from him which physically pains him but he has to in order to undress you the same way you did for him. “There we go. That’s better,” he says. Takes a minute to fully take your figure in. Appreciate it. “Much better.” A giggle escapes your lips. You don’t know if you should be embarrassed now that your chest is revealed to him for his eyes’ full discretion. He’s not exactly discreet with these things. But it’s Art Fucking Donaldson and you also can’t help but be flattered.

“Thanks.” You can feel your cheeks heat up, all flushed at the compliment and under the spotlight of his admiration. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you say, immediately regretting it. But it doesn’t matter. He locks your lips with his so he can keep you like this: in his grasp, in order to pin you down, switch positions. Him on top, now. You’ve never seen him this dominant. And he makes his way, through the sloppy, spit-ridden suctioning of his lips, that once held yours, to your neck, collarbone - lingering on the spot he knows that’s sensitive, stomach, and hips. He’s slow and tentative with his movements, wanting to draw out every second of the moment.

He hums against your skin, the vibration of his lips sending you into pure bliss. But he stops before he can go any lower. Looks up at you. Your face is all a mess, all twisted and scrunched up just from the heavy petting and light butterfly kisses - a vision that should’ve been the other way around: you eyeing him, getting a glimpse of what you do to him before wrapping your lips around the head of his dick. But there’s no going back. He asks if you’ll let him eat you out.

You want to say yes but there’s a moan caught in your throat, so you nod instead, vigorously shaking your head.

But it’s not enough for him. He needs vocal validation. He crawls back up; his breath is hot, hitting your temple as he whispers in your ear. Mumbles something like please, I want to taste you. And you give in, managing to muster out a please, too. That’s all he needs to hear. And he’s back where he started. Pulls your panties down with his teeth before lapping up the want and desire and wetness that the fabric prior had been collecting.

You could scream, but he’s already moaning for you. He gets off on the sole feeling of his head between your legs and how you’re dripping, drenched just for him.

“God, fuck me.” The words slip from his lips onto yours and your free ones say,

“Okay.” He wonders if he hears this correctly. He’s rutting into the mattress. His hard-on is about to burst. It doesn’t help when you say his name. His chest and cheeks feel hot and heavy even without clothes.

You pull him up by his neck, kiss the spot where your fingers left prints only to leave a different type of mark with your teeth.

“But I wasn’t finished,” he says sadly. He wants the first time you cum to be on his tongue. His head dips down again but right now you need to feel him. You cup his head in between your hands, tell him, that’s okay. And one trails down to his button of his jeans, relieving him of the tight feeling of his boxers, only to guide him to the tight entrance of your pussy.

“Isn’t this much better anyway?”

[cherryxbooo]

Hey 😊 I love your writing sooo much !

Would you maybe write a Tim Bradford imagine where you're also a TO and you're having feelings for each other but you both try to ignore them, not to let them get in your way during the job. One time that changes as like in the episodes where Lucy gets kidnapped, it's you instead of her after a date gone wrong. Tim is on the edge the whole time till they find you. And when he sees you in that barrel, barely alive, his world crashes. Of course you can be saved and he stays at the hospital all the time. When you get home he also insists on taking care of you and there he also finds the courage to tell you his feelings properly, how much he loves you and that he'll always be there to protect you. I hope that's okay with you 💗🫶🏼

I’m not going anywhere

Summary: Tim and Y/N, both tough and dedicated TOs, struggle to suppress their growing feelings for each other. When Y/N is abducted after a date goes wrong, Tim refuses to back down, risking everything to find her.

Note: I'm so glad you enjoy my stories, love! 🫶 Thank you for this amazing request, I absolutely love the idea! I decided to give it my own spin to keep it unique and fresh instead of copying the entire episode. I hope you enjoy it! 🤍

Reader x Tim Bradford

Genre: fluff/angst

Being a Training Officer was never easy. You were expected to mold rookies into dependable cops, but it was also your job to keep them alive.

Every shift brought challenges that tested your patience and skills, especially when you worked alongside someone like Tim Bradford.

Tim was a force of nature. His bluntness could crush egos, his discipline was unmatched, and his loyalty ran deeper than any badge.

As a fellow TO, I admired him more than I cared to admit. But admiration had morphed into something more, something complicated.

I had feelings for him. And it was maddening.

Tim was infuriating. He challenged me at every turn, pushed me to my limits, and managed to crawl under my skin like no one else ever had.

But then there were the moments that made my heart ache:

the quiet glances when he thought no one was watching, the softness in his voice when he checked on me after a tough day, the way he never let anyone, rookie or otherwise, disrespect me.

We would also text each other back and forth to check in on one another.

It got to the point where if one of us didn’t respond within an hour, we assumed something was wrong.

That’s what normal colleagues do, right? Checking up on one another, or am I just fooling myself?

For months, I’d buried those feelings, telling myself that they were a distraction I couldn’t afford.

This job was dangerous enough without the added complication of being in love with my colleague.

Still, there were moments when I wondered if he felt the same.

I mean, someone like Tim Bradford wouldn’t just know my favorite coffee order for no reason, right?

The station was already filled with people when I arrived, the smell of burnt coffee and stale paperwork filling the air.

I was halfway to my desk when I heard Tim’s voice behind me.

“You look like you didn’t sleep,” he said, stepping beside me.

“Good morning to you too, Bradford,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

“I’m serious,” he said, giving me a once-over and putting the coffee he got me down on my desk.

“Late night?”

“Something like that,” I muttered, collapsing into my chair.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Work-related?”

“No.”

He didn’t ask further, but the tension in his jaw told me he wanted to.

The truth was, I’d been on another date last night.

For weeks, I’d been trying to distract myself from my feelings for Tim by going out with guys I barely knew.

The dates were always the same, awkward conversations, forced laughter, and a growing sense that I was wasting my time.

But I kept trying, convinced that if I could just find someone else, I’d stop thinking about Tim every second of every day.

“How’s the rookie?” I asked, steering the conversation away from myself.

Tim sighed. “Still green, but they’ll get there.”

Before he could say more, Angela appeared, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Well, if it isn’t the dream team,” she teased, leaning against my desk.

“What do you want, Lopez?” Tim asked, crossing his arms.

“Nothing,” she said innocently.

“Just enjoying the sight of you two pretending you’re not completely into each other.”

I nearly choked on my coffee. “Excuse me?”

Angela smirked. “Oh, come on. It’s obvious to everyone but you two.”

Tim’s ears turned red, and he muttered something under his breath before walking off.

“You really need to do something about that tension,” Angela said, winking at me.

I glared at her. “There is no tension. Besides, I'm going on a date later tonight." I added to make her shut up.

“Sure, but we both know the real reason why you're going on that date,” she said, walking away with a laugh.

I glanced at Tim, who was now at the other end of the room, barking orders at a rookie.

For a moment, our eyes met, and my heart did that stupid fluttering thing I hated so much.

Angela might have been onto something.

That evening after my shift, I found myself sitting across from Eric, my date for the night.

He was tall, dark-haired, and charming in a way that felt almost too polished.

We’d met at a coffee shop a week ago, and while I hadn’t been particularly interested, I’d agreed to go out with him.

“So, what made you say yes?” Eric asked, flashing me a grin.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” I admitted, sipping my drink.

He laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Well, I’m glad you did.”

I nodded, but my mind wasn’t really on him. As he talked about his job in finance, I found myself comparing him to Tim.

Eric was nice, but he didn’t have Tim’s sharp wit or his quiet strength.

“You’re distracted,” Eric said suddenly, his voice breaking into my thoughts.

“Sorry,” I said quickly. “Long day.”

“Let’s fix that,” he said, signaling the bartender for another round. “How about we go somewhere quieter after this?”

I hesitated, knowing I shouldn't agree to go with a stranger but I wanted to forget about Tim.

His charm had a rehearsed quality, and his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Something about Eric felt... off.

But I pushed the thought aside, chalking it up to my overactive imagination.

“Sure,” I said, forcing a smile

Eric’s apartment was in a run-down building on the outskirts of the city.

The moment I stepped inside, unease crept up my spine.

The place was sparse, too sparse, and smelled faintly of chemicals.

“Nice place,” I said, trying to keep my voice light.

“Thanks,” Eric replied, locking the door behind us.

When I turned to face him, his expression had changed. The easy smile was gone, replaced by something darker.

“You’re a cop, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice low and sharp.

I froze. Not understanding why that was important. “What?”

“I saw your badge the other night,” he said, stepping closer.

My heart raced. “Eric, I think you’re confused—”

Before I could finish, he grabbed my arm, his grip bruising.

“You cops think you’re so smart,” he snarled. “Always sticking your noses where they don’t belong.”

“Let go of me,” I said, trying to pull away.

He didn’t. Instead, he shoved me against the wall, his hand clamping over my mouth.

“You’re going to regret this,” he hissed.

Panic surged through me as he dragged me toward a side door. My mind raced, searching for an escape, but he was too strong.

The last thing I saw before everything went black was the glint of a syringe in his hand.

When I woke up, my head throbbed, and my body felt heavy. I was in a dark, cold room, my hands bound and my mouth gagged.

Eric stood over me, a twisted smile on his face.

“Slept well, officer?” he taunted.

I glared at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

“You thought you could mess with me?” he continued, pacing. “Well, now you’re going to see what happens when people cross me.”

He opened a barrel in the corner of the room, the metallic smell making my stomach churn.

“No one’s coming for you,” he said, lifting me effortlessly and shoving me inside.

As the lid closed, plunging me into darkness, I fought to stay calm. I couldn’t die here. Not like this.

Meanwhile, Tim paced through the station, his instincts churning. Something was wrong.

He couldn't explain it, but the nagging feeling in his gut had only grown stronger since Y/N hadn’t responded to his messages.

It wasn’t like her to leave him hanging, and she always checked in after her shifts or when she went out.

He tried to push the thought aside, she was a grown woman, capable and strong, but it wouldn’t leave him.

Tim knew her routines, and her habits, and something didn’t add up. He checked his phone again.

Nothing.

“Where is she?” he muttered under his breath, frustration bubbling over.

Back at his desk, Tim pulled out his phone and shot her another text:

“You home safe?”

The minutes ticked by, and there was no response.

He told himself she was probably asleep or didn’t hear her phone. She always replied, though. Always.

Another text: “Y/N, call me when you get this.”

Tim stared at the screen, waiting, the worry clawing at him now. He scrolled through their recent messages, trying to reassure himself.

Her last text had been earlier in the evening: “Heading out now. Have fun working your long shift!”

It sounded normal. Casual. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

He stepped out into the hallway and called her phone. It rang and rang before going to voicemail.

“Y/N, it’s me. Call me back when you get this, alright? Just… let me know you’re okay.”

He hung up, his chest tightening. Something was definitely wrong.

Tim called her again, then again, but there was no answer.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, pacing back and forth.

He decided to start with the basics. Heading to Grey’s office, Tim knocked and stepped in without waiting for an answer.

“Bradford, what can I do for you?” Grey asked, looking up from his paperwork.

“Have you seen Y/L/N? She didn’t come back to the station tonight, did she?” Tim asked, keeping his tone steady, though his mind was racing.

Grey shook his head. “No, she clocked out on time. Why?”

Tim hesitated. “No reason just hadn’t heard from her. Thought she might’ve stayed late.”

“Everything okay?” Grey’s perceptive gaze lingered.

“Yeah. I’m sure it’s fine.” Tim turned and left the office, though his gut told him otherwise.

Tim strode into the bullpen, where Angela Lopez and Nyla Harper were deep in conversation over their laptops.

“Have either of you heard from Y/N?” Tim asked abruptly.

Angela looked up, frowning. “Not since this morning. Didn’t she have a date tonight?”

The word date hit Tim like a punch. “Do you know where?”

Angela shook her head. “She didn’t say much, just that it was someone new she met online. Why?”

Tim’s jaw tightened. “She’s not answering her phone.”

Nyla set her coffee down, her sharp instincts immediately kicking in. “How long has it been?”

“Hours,” Tim admitted, his frustration evident. “She always checks in. This isn’t like her.”

Angela exchanged a glance with Nyla.

“Alright,” Nyla said, standing up.

“Let’s figure this out. You said she had a date, does she use any apps? Maybe tech can pull her messages.”

Angela nodded. “She mentioned using something, but I don’t remember the name. Let’s get tech on it.”

Angela grabbed her phone, calling tech support while Nyla placed a calming hand on Tim’s shoulder.

“We’ll find her, Bradford,” she said firmly. “You know Y/N, she’s tough. She wouldn’t go down without a fight.”

Tim didn’t respond, his jaw clenched tightly.

The bullpen was full of people and their voices, but to Tim, the noise was a distant hum.

His focus was razor-sharp, his jaw clenched so tightly that his teeth ached.

He loomed behind the tech analyst’s desk, the tension radiating off him making the others keep their distance.

Angela and Nyla exchanged concerned glances nearby, but no one dared to interrupt him.

“Anything yet?” he barked, his voice cutting through the room like a whip.

The analyst flinched slightly but kept typing. “I’m pulling her dating app data now. It’s just taking a moment to decrypt the server.”

Tim’s fists clenched at his sides. Every second felt like a lifetime.

Y/N was out there, somewhere, and the thought of her being in danger gnawed at him like a vice around his chest.

Finally, the analyst straightened. “Got something!”

Tim surged forward, leaning over the desk as the analyst brought up a profile on the screen.

“She was messaging a guy named Eric Dawson,” the analyst explained, scrolling through the messages.

“They had arranged to meet at a bar in Eagle Rock.”

Tim’s heart pounded. “What bar?”

“Solana’s Tavern,” the analyst replied.

Nyla crossed her arms, her brow furrowed.

“That area’s rough. Not exactly where you take someone on a first date.”

Tim’s chest tightened further. “Pull traffic cams from outside the bar. I need to know if she made it there and if she left.”

The analyst nodded and got to work, typing furiously. The tension in the room was suffocating as everyone watched the screen in silence.

Tim paced behind the desk, every step heavy with barely restrained anxiety.

“Tim,” Angela said softly, approaching him.

“Maybe you should take a beat. Let us handle this.”

He spun around, his eyes blazing. “No. She’s counting on me. I’m not sitting this one out.”

Angela held up her hands in surrender, backing off.

“Got it!” the analyst said, breaking the silence.

Footage from a traffic camera outside the bar flickered onto the screen.

They watched as Y/N appeared, her expression hesitant as she walked into the bar.

“There she is,” Angela said, pointing at the screen.

Tim leaned closer, his eyes locked on the image of Y/N.

He barely noticed how hard his hands were gripping the edge of the desk.

The analyst fast-forwarded the footage, scanning for her exit. About an hour later, Y/N appeared again, walking out with a man.

The guy had his hand on her arm, his grip firm, his body language all wrong.

“She doesn’t look comfortable,” Nyla said, her voice low.

“He’s leading her. She’s not willingly going with him.”

Tim’s stomach churned. “Run his plates,” he snapped, his tone sharp.

The analyst zoomed in on the car the man guided Y/N towards, pulling up the plate number.

Seconds later, the vehicle’s registration information appeared.

“The car is registered to an address just outside the city,” the analyst said.

“A warehouse on the outskirts of town.”

“That’s it,” Tim said, already moving.

He grabbed his vest and radio. “Gear up. We’re heading there now.”

“Tim,” Grey’s voice called, cutting through the chaos.

Tim stopped but didn’t turn around.

“You need to stay focused,” Grey said firmly, stepping closer.

“I know how much this means to you, but if you’re too emotional, you’ll compromise the operation.”

Tim turned, his eyes hard. “With all due respect sir but again, I’m not sitting this one out.”

Grey studied him for a long moment before nodding. “Fine. But keep your head on straight. She’s counting on you, and I can't afford to lose one of my best officers.”

Tim nodded sharply, strapping on his vest.

“Let’s move,” he said to Angela and Nyla, his tone leaving no room for argument.

With the rest of the team following behind.

The warehouse loomed in the distance, a decrepit shell of concrete and rust that felt suffocating even from the outside.

Tim’s heart pounded in his chest as he and the team moved in silently, weapons drawn.

Every instinct screamed at him to hurry, but he forced himself to stay focused.

This wasn’t just another rescue mission. This was Y/N. His Y/N.

And he was barely holding it together.

They moved through the darkened halls, their flashlights sweeping over scattered debris and abandoned machinery.

The air was thick with the smell of oil and mildew, but there was something else, a faint metallic tang that Tim couldn’t quite place.

It turned his stomach.

“Clear,” Angela said, her voice steady as they swept one room after another.

Tim’s jaw clenched. Every second that passed felt like an eternity, and with each empty room, the knot in his chest tightened.

“Over here!” Nolan’s voice cut through the tense silence.

Tim turned, his flashlight catching the glint of something metallic in the corner of the room. A row of barrels.

“No...” he whispered, his legs moving before his brain could catch up.

The closer he got, the stronger the smell became, an acrid mix of chemicals and fear.

He dropped to his knees in front of the nearest barrel, his hands trembling as he pried the lid off.

Empty.

He moved to the next one, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Bradford,” Angela said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“No!” he snapped, shaking her off. “I’m not stopping.”

The third barrel was heavier. He could feel it as he pulled at the lid, his muscles straining. And then it came loose.

Tim’s flashlight illuminated the inside, and his entire world shattered.

It was her.

Y/N was curled inside, her body limp, her skin pale and clammy. Her wrists were bound, the rope digging so deeply into her skin that blood had dried in angry, red streaks.

Her breathing was shallow, her chest rising and falling so faintly he almost missed it.

“Y/N!” he choked, dropping his flashlight and reaching in to pull her out.

“Get a medic!” Angela yelled, her voice distant as Tim focused solely on Y/N.

He cradled her against his chest, his hands shaking as he checked for a pulse. It was there, but weak.

“Come on, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Stay with me.”

Her eyelids fluttered, and for a moment, he thought he’d imagined it. But then her lips parted, and a barely audible whisper escaped.

“Tim...”

Relief surged through him, hot and overwhelming.

“I’m here,” he said, brushing the hair from her face. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

Her head lolled against his chest, and he tightened his grip, as if holding her closer could somehow shield her from everything she’d been through.

The paramedics arrived moments later, but to Tim, it felt like hours.

He reluctantly let them take her, his hands still hovering as if afraid she’d disappear if he didn’t keep touching her.

As they loaded her into the ambulance, Angela placed a hand on his shoulder again. This time, he didn’t shrug it off.

“You did good,” she said softly.

He didn’t answer. All he could think about was the sight of her in that barrel, the life nearly drained out of her.

And how he never wanted to feel that kind of fear again.

The first thing I felt was pain, dull, throbbing, and constant pain.

It was everywhere, but especially in my chest, like I couldn’t breathe deeply without it stabbing me from the inside.

My eyes fluttered open, and I was greeted by a blinding white light that made me squeeze them shut again.

I tried to move, but my body protested. My throat was dry, my lips cracked.

“Y/N?”

The voice was soft, deep, and familiar. I forced my eyes open again, squinting, and slowly turned my head toward the sound.

“Tim…” I croaked, barely above a whisper.

He was right there, leaning forward in the stiff hospital chair like he’d been glued to it for hours.

His hands were gripping mine tightly, and his face was a mixture of relief and worry.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice rough and unsteady.

His eyes softened as they roamed over my face like he couldn’t believe I was actually there.

“Where am I?” I asked, my voice barely audible.

“You’re in the hospital,” he said, sitting up straighter. “You’re safe now. We found you.”

The memories started flooding back. The date. The man. Everything.

My heart rate spiked, and the beeping from the monitor beside me quickened.

“The barrel…” I whispered, my voice breaking.

Tears stung my eyes as I remembered the cold, the suffocating darkness, and the terror that had gripped me when I thought I’d never get out.

Tim’s hand tightened around mine, grounding me.

“It’s over. He can’t hurt you anymore,” he said firmly, his voice laced with a quiet rage.

“I thought… I thought I was going to die,” I admitted, my voice trembling.

Tim’s jaw tightened, and he leaned closer. “You didn’t. You fought, Y/N. You held on long enough for us to get to you. And I swear, nothing like this will ever happen to you again. I won’t let it.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks as I looked at him.

His face etched with so much emotion that it was hard to believe this was the same Tim Bradford who kept his feelings so close to his chest.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He shook his head, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “Don’t thank me. Just… promise me you’ll be more careful. No more dates with guys like that.”

I let out a weak laugh that quickly turned into a wince. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

His lips curved into the faintest smile, but the worry in his eyes didn’t fade.

The drive back to my place was quiet. Tim insisted on taking me home himself after I got discharged.

I didn’t have the energy to argue. My ribs ached with every bump in the road, and the painkillers they’d given me at the hospital were starting to wear off.

When we got to my place, I reached for the door handle, but Tim was faster.

He was already out of the car and opening my door before I could even unbuckle my seatbelt.

“You don’t have to hover, you know,” I said, trying to inject some humor into my voice.

“You’ve barely been out of the hospital for a day,” he shot back, ignoring my attempt to downplay things.

“I’m not taking any chances.”

I didn’t argue. Honestly, I didn’t want to be alone.

Inside, Tim helped me settle on the couch, propping me up with pillows and making sure I had everything within arm’s reach: water, my phone, and even the remote for the TV.

“Comfortable?” he asked, standing in front of me with his arms crossed.

“Yes, officer Bradford,” I teased, giving him a tired smile.

He smirked but didn’t respond. Instead, he disappeared into the kitchen, and I heard the faint clatter of dishes.

A few minutes later, he returned with a cup of tea.

“Here,” he said, handing it to me carefully. “Drink. Doctor’s orders.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Since when did you become so domestic?”

“Don’t get used to it,” he said, sitting down in the armchair across from me.

We sat in silence for a while, the tension between us thick and unspoken.

I sipped my tea, glancing at him occasionally, and each time I did, I caught him staring at me like he was afraid I might disappear.

“You know,” I said finally, breaking the silence, “you don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine.”

Tim frowned. “I’m not going anywhere. End of discussion.”

There was a finality in his tone that told me arguing would be pointless. Still, I couldn’t help but ask,

“Why?”

His jaw tightened, and he looked away, his fingers tapping restlessly on the armrest.

“Because I need to make sure you’re okay,” he said quietly.

Something in his voice made my chest tighten. “Tim…”

“I thought I lost you,” he said, cutting me off.

His eyes met mine, and for a moment, all the walls he kept so carefully constructed were gone.

“Do you know what it felt like, finding you like that? You were barely breathing, Y/N. I’ve seen a lot of horrible things on this job, but nothing ever scared me like that.”

I set the cup down, my hands trembling. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Don’t be,” he said firmly. “This wasn’t your fault. But I can’t—” He stopped, his voice breaking.

“I can’t go through that again.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at him, my heart aching at the raw emotion in his voice.

“I’m still here, Tim,” I said softly.

His shoulders relaxed slightly, and he nodded. “Yeah. You are.”

Later that evening,

The room was quiet, the soft hum of the TV filling the background.

I was cocooned in a blanket, my body still aching, but the dull pain was nothing compared to the storm of emotions swirling inside me.

Tim was sitting close, his arm stretched along the back of the couch, his presence steady and comforting.

Without thinking, I shifted closer, leaning my head against his shoulder.

It wasn’t intentional, or maybe it was, but it felt natural like this was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Tim didn’t move. He didn’t say a word, but I could feel him tense slightly under my touch.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet.

I lifted my head, glancing at him in confusion. “For what?”

“For everything.” His eyes were fixed on the TV, but he wasn’t really watching it.

“For not seeing the signs. For not protecting you. For letting this happen to you.”

“Tim…” I reached out, placing my hand lightly on his arm.

“You couldn’t have known. It wasn’t your fault.”

He finally turned to look at me, his blue eyes swirling with guilt, and something deeper, something I couldn’t quite put into words.

“That’s not all I’m sorry for.”

A knot formed in my stomach. “What do you mean?”

Tim hesitated, his jaw tightening as if he was debating whether or not to say what was on his mind.

Then, he shifted, turning his body toward me fully. “I’ve been holding something back. Something I should’ve said a long time ago.”

My heart began to race. I swallowed hard. “Tim…”

He shook his head, cutting me off gently. “Just… let me finish.” He took a deep breath.

“When I saw you in that barrel, when I thought I might lose you, I realized how much I’ve been lying to myself. About you. About us.”

His words hit me like a freight train, and I struggled to find my voice. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” He paused, his voice soft but steady.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I’ve been in love with you for months. And I’ve been too much of a coward to say it because I thought it would mess everything up. The job. Us. But after what happened…”

His voice cracked slightly, his vulnerability breaking through. “I can’t keep pretending anymore. I can’t lose you without you knowing how I feel.”

I stared at him, my heart pounding so hard it drowned out the noise of the TV, of the world.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and before I could stop myself, I let out a shaky laugh.

“You have no idea how much I needed to hear that,” I whispered.

Tim’s brows furrowed slightly in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” I took a deep breath, the words spilling out before I could overthink them.

“I’ve been going on those dates to forget about you.”

His eyes widened, shock flickering across his face. “What?”

“I thought…” My voice cracked, and I looked down at my hands, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

“I thought you’d never feel the same way. I thought if I distracted myself and forced myself to move on, I could stop feeling this way about you. But it never worked. No matter what I did, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Tim.”

Silence settled between us, heavy and charged. Then, Tim let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “You should’ve told me.”

“I was scared,” I admitted, finally looking up at him.

“Scared of ruining what we have. Scared of losing you.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt.

He reached up, his hand gently cupping my cheek. His thumb brushed away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen.

“Not now. Not ever.”

I leaned into his touch, my heart swelling with relief, with joy, with everything I’d been holding back for so long.

“You mean that?”

“Every word,” he said, his eyes locked on mine.

Slowly, he leaned in, and my breath caught in my throat.

He gave me every opportunity to pull away, to stop him, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to.

When his lips finally met mine, it was soft and tentative at first, as if we were both still testing the waters.

But then it deepened, carrying months of unspoken emotions, of longing, of everything we’d tried so hard to ignore.

When we finally pulled apart, I let out a breathless laugh, leaning my forehead against his.

“That was a long time coming.”

“You’re telling me,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

I pulled back slightly to look at him, my expression turning serious. “What happens now?”

He smiled softly, his eyes warm and filled with a rare tenderness.

“Now, we take it one day at a time. No rush. No pressure. But I promise you this: I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears stung my eyes again, but this time, they were tears of relief, of happiness.

I smiled, leaning into his embrace as his arms wrapped securely around me.

“I think I can live with that,” I murmured, my voice muffled against his chest.

And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, I felt more at peace than I had in weeks.

Maybe even months. No matter what challenges lay ahead, I knew one thing for certain:

We’d face them together.

The end

[grison-in-space]

One of my favorite teaching moments was the time that one of the students in my class (a Classics double major that had long since forgotten that anyone else in Genetics Lab might have humanities interests) snapped the opening lines to another student out in the middle of a play argument. I gasped at him, the other student demanded to know what the first had said, I provided my own translation ("I'll rape you in the ass and mouth, cockslut Aurelius and ass-hungry Marcus") and formally made the point that we do not say shit like this unless we expect to stand by our words when someone unexpectedly understands them. Then we got into a brief argument about whether irrumare is better translated as "to skullfuck" or "to rape one's face" and a much longer discussion about the way that toxic masculinity relates to homosexuality and prescriptive sexual behavior.

For the record, what aetherograph is referring to is actually the Roman verb irrumare itself. It is a violent word, and while all the folks above are right that Romans and Greeks alike had a lot of moral panic surrounding men being the receiving partner of penetrative sex, irrumare is specifically more threatening and insulting than, say, pedicare: you're specifically muting the person and potentially blocking their airways here, making them even more vulnerable. It also implies very strongly that the penetrating person is controlling the movement: this is not a verb that can be translated synonymously to "blowing" a person, for example. The word means to forcibly fuck a person's mouth, an act so degrading that it is beyond imagination that an upstanding man would or could tolerate it without being forced.

These are Bad Words to a Roman, and I think translations should incorporate that as well as trying to convey the violence of the words. I really don't like translations that try to downplay the extent to which Catullus 16 is a very, very vivid rape threat in response to (inferred) loss of masculine status on account of spending too much time and attention with female lovers. I think there is a tendency to be delighted by profanity and obscenity themselves in the hallowed halls of literature, and certainly this is one hell of an ancient Italian poetic tradition that continues well into the modern day. But I also think that obscenity and poetry both exist to turn strong feelings into meaning, and I think Catullus' poetry is most powerful and effective when we stop thinking about how naughtily he was saying something and start thinking about what exactly he was saying as he did it.

Catullus certainly is one of the Roman poets that fucked, but Catullus 16 is not a romantic poem but a violent one. (This isn't that uncommon for Catullus, who writes vividly about sex, emotion, and violence as recurring themes and can be almost as aggressive to women as to men. One of his other famous ones, Catullus 11, involves him feeling spurned by a lover and declaring that his friends Furius and Aurelius should go tell her that he says he hopes she's happy with all her many suitors, her three hundred lovers, none of which she truly touches despite the rupture of their thighs; another (Catullus 58) has him complaining that his lover whom he was so attached to is off lying in the back alleys fucking all the "grandsons of Remus," AKA any Roman who shows up and hikes up his tunic.) He was also very capable of mushy sweetness! But the anger is always there lurking beneath the surface.

He was a complicated guy. His poetry is constructed in careful layers of meaning around astonishingly raw emotions, glittering and artistic to behold. He was absolutely a man of his own time and place, which makes him translator catnip. But that time and place was Imperial Rome, and translators ought to work to communicate exactly what sort of place Rome could be, too.

you cant even begin poems with "i will sodomise and facef uck you" anymore. because of woke .

[chxnsgirl]

── .✦ minho 18+ headcanons

➜ ┊: masterlist ᵎ ✰

» a/n: decided to do minhoo bc i feel like i can gauge so much about him sexually idk why. bro just drops too many hints tbh

» this is a work of fiction and in no way portrays minho irl. this is just for fun.

» borders by: here

» dominant as fuckkk. cmon now. we all know it.

» minho is an ass guy. (as if that isn’t obvious, he’s always grabbing, smacking, and pinching the member’s asses.) he absolutely loves giving spankings, the blood rushes to his dick after seeing the dark, swollen handprints on your skin after he slaps it.

» i believe i also said this about chan but minho is also very much the type of lover to take out his frustrations on you in the bedroom. he’d have your face shoved into the mattress, fingers tangled in your hair while he pounds into you from behind. “cmon, jagiya, take it for me.”

» mean dom minho! i believe this man is a mean dom more often than not. don’t get me wrong, he for sure has his sweet moments, but i can’t shake the thought that he’s a sadist, and likes claiming you in the most depraved ways.

» i think minho is the absolute sweetest afterwards, running you a bath if you need it, helping you clean up, or feeing you or hydrating you.

» he likes to dress you up all pretty, in bright, girly lingerie. (pinks, whites, pastels) just to ravage you in them later on, and completely defile your innocent display.

» he’s a fan of bondage, but he doesn’t care for the extremes. tying your hands behind your back and tying you to the bedposts works just fine. he loves eating your cunt while you tug on the rope; your skin almost getting friction burns from it.

» he will edge you until your brain stops working, your eyes are rolling back with tears brimming them, and endless curses are leaving your lips. he always has that sly grin on his face (you know exactly which one i’m talking about) as he watches you beg from under him, his hands circling your clit or massaging your gspot oh so tenderly.

» when he comes, his orgasms are intense, long-lasting and core tightening. his orgasms are pretty hefty, too. minho shoots out long, thick ropes of cum either in or on you, painting you or your insides a beautiful shade of white.

[pneumosia]

❝BENEATH THE VEIL OF SEPARATION.❞ ── ☼ rin itoshi﹕ ブルーロック › blue lock

syn ✧ having rin reappear in your life on a random friday was not what you were expecting. what starts as reluctance turns into a moment of vulnerability as old feelings resurface.

imaginarium theatre masterlist. ┆ general masterlist.

info log ﹕ fic tags rin itoshi / gn! reader. imaginarium theatre request no. 7 made by @reocidal. rin + retrouvaille + fluff. kiss scene. lots of banter. reader has a younger cousin. ➜ word count : 2.3k

love, ieva ❤︎ officially the first time writing for rin, i hope i didn’t make him too ooc 😓 also new formatting !! tiny bit of hurt/comfort if u squint bc i almost got carried away

Rin Itoshi wasn’t used to stopping. His life was a blur of precision: drills, matches, accolades. Yet here he was, holding a cup of lukewarm black coffee—and seated in one of the back tables. He sat next to a window, his hood drawn low. The cafe he was in was bustling with noise that began to grate on his nerves.. He scowled before pushing a pair of ear plugs into his ears, hoping to muffle the sounds of chatter between friends, parents with overly obnoxious children, and the relentless ding of the bell that rang whenever someone entered. He stared at his phone, checking match statistics, formations, strategies.

About a few blocks away, was a soccer field, usually an eyesore in his peripheral vision. It was the kind of place amateurs and children gravitate to—a world far out of his reach. Something so mediocre could never catch his attention, until he spotted a familiar figure walk past—his glance following them through the window. He blinked again, as if the act might scatter his vision and reveal a different image that was once buried in fog. But no, there you were—with an eager child tugging your hand while pointing towards the field.

Without thinking, he was on his feet, the coffee forgotten as he pushed open the cafe door. He could see the back of your head clearly, and the child beside you was practically begging to be taken to the field. How could you ever refuse? He watched as you smiled, radiant and full of life you were—just as you were back then. He could already hear your coos, a sign that you were giving into the child’s pleas.

“I want to go there! Can we? Please? Just for a little while?”

You glanced at the apple of your cousin’s eye—a small field, granted it was usually occupied by children, but the white markings reminded you of someone else. Someone you’d rather not name. Reluctantly, you clutched the little one’s hand tighter, looking both ways before crossing the street—unaware that Rin was dragging his feet across the road behind you.

When you approached the patches of uneven grass, marked with faded white lines—the little boy wasted no time before darting off towards the center, the atmosphere welcoming the young life—a playground meant just for him. Behind you, the faint sound of footsteps—deliberate yet hesitant, alerted your senses. You turn around just in time to catch a glimpse of Rin retreating, his hood low and his body angled as if he were preparing to bolt out of there. You blinked, caught off guard by the sight of someone so deeply tied to the past that you thought you’d never relive.

Your relationship had been at a standstill for so long, so the moment he vanished from your life—you never imagined him returning, much less in these circumstances.

A part of you had been craving this interaction, while the other wished to bury him with the past altogether. A time capsule never to be reopened.

“Rin?” the name left your lips before you could stop it, and his retreat faltered. His lips formed a small frown, and he let out a sigh in response.

He knew he should’ve left when he had the chance.

“I wasn’t..” he trailed off, knowing coming up with an excuse now would be futile.

Instead, his eyes darted towards the child running circles around the field—two children behind him as if they were playing a game of tag. “Is that your kid?” he asked bluntly, anything to avoid the spotlight being on his failed retreat.

You raised an eyebrow at his question. “What? No—of course not!” you quickly retorted. Regardless of his motive, he should’ve realized how bizarre his blunt question sounded.

“Then?” he questioned further.

“That’s my cousin, I'm too young to have kids!” you retorted, crossing your arms in a manner that told him that his question must’ve been a stupid one.

“The second he saw this field, he immediately wanted to come and play.” you continued, hesitantly.

His hands stuffed themselves in his pockets, his gaze flickering between you and the child you claimed as your cousin. “I didn’t mean to— I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“And yet, you are.” you said, an amused smile tugging at your lips. “Following me?”

He spluttered before the heat trailed to the tips of his ears. “Not… Not a chance, you’re delusional.”

You only continued to stare him down, as if waiting for him to admit to it. “You sure? I find it pretty odd that this is purely a coincidence.”

“But it’s not impossible.” he commented before rolling his eyes.

“Well,” you said, your tone light but your eyes began searching his face. “Since you’re here, you might as well greet me properly. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Rin hesitated. It had been a while—more than a while—it had been an eternity. Yet, here you were, standing in front of him as if no time had passed at all. As if you were the same people, in a bubble of bright smiles and laughter that could cause tears from euphoria.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice quieter than you remembered. “It has.”

He wasn’t sure what to do. He followed you all the way here, for what? He couldn’t let this be their last interaction, not when he had so many words bottled up and stuck in his throat.

Before he could manage to speak up, the child appeared in front of him once more—glimmering eyes full of hope and a newfound joy for the sport. “Hey! Do you guys wanna come play with us?”

You pretended to think about the offer, a hand under your chin and an amused smirk adorning your features. You couldn’t say no to him. The little guy had you wrapped around his finger, but you didn’t mind—not if it meant that the smile on his fact would remain in place for as long as possible.

Rin, on the other hand, was absolutely dreading this interaction. On one hand, he knew he didn’t want to participate in this child’s antics, but he knew he couldn’t be rude about it. Instead of voicing his feelings, he opted to shake his head. The equivalent of a simple “no thanks.”

You quietly nudged his arm, trying to get the message across that the little one wouldn’t be able to take no for an answer. He grumbled in response, In a state of reluctance, he finally agreed before being dragged away by the tiny hand—with a promise that he’d definitely enjoy himself.

Of course, the little boy had absolutely no idea how to maneuver a soccer ball—looking up at Rin, he silently pleaded for him to teach him how to play correctly. The most he could manage was simply kicking the ball around and hoping it makes it into the opposite goal. It reminded Rin of his naivety when he was the little boy’s age. Rounded teal eyes filled with tears whenever he wasn’t able to move the ball around the way he wanted, and he had to rely on Sae for assistance.

The thought makes him shake his head in annoyance. At the moment, his brother was utterly irrelevant to the conversation. Right now, all he could do was scoff and put the heel of his foot on the ball—eyeing the child to make sure he was watching. “Just follow my steps, alright?”

To say your cousin was excited would be an understatement, he eagerly kept his eyes glued to the striker—furrowed brows that showcased his concentration.

“It’s about control, not strength. Where do you want to kick the ball?” he asked, as the child pointed forward—so Rin kicked the ball in that direction. “Now you try.”

The child mimicked his movements as best he could, earning a hum of approval. His expression remained unreadable, but the slight lift of his chin gave him away—he was slightly pleased. For the next hour or so, the two focused on simple ball passing and aiming, all the way until the little guy scored his first goal. The majority of the children were beginning to get pulled away from the field by their parents, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Rin’s way of teaching. Though his personality wouldn’t make for a good teacher, he was considerate of the child’s age and connection to you. And that, for you, was enough.

“I told you we’d have fun!”

“…Sure.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

The dumbfounded expression on Rin’s face was enough to earn a chuckle out of you, before you stepped forward to grab your cousin’s hand—a clear sign it was time to go home. Luckily, he didn’t make a fuss about it, tired out from the drills he and Rin had to do.

Later on, when it was just the two of them—you were unsure of what to say. The sky dimmed and night was fast approaching, but you didn’t have the urge to go home yet, at least—not without talking to him first. “You tolerated that more than I expected you to.”

“What? It was either I helped him or he’d start crying, and frankly the latter sounds worse.”

“Uh huh, you’re not going home?” you inquired, fiddling with your fingers as you waited for an answer. You honestly believed he was going to simply walk away, maybe even retort with a sassy remark to spite you.

“I could ask you the same, it seems like we still have something to talk about.”

Or so you thought.

A few beats of silence passed before you let out a sigh. “Can’t you just admit that you missed me so we can skip the awkward reconciliation stage?”

Confrontation was clearly not one of your strong suits, judging by how his eyebrows furrowed and how he crossed his arms—staring at you with pure judgment in his eyes.

“Get real.”

“You get real, c’mon. I’m waiting.”

He groans, stepping closer before eyeing you down. “What makes you think I missed you?”

“The fact that you followed me to the field maybe? You could’ve ignored me, and gone in the opposite direction.”

You had him right where you wanted him.

He didn’t have an answer, did he?

(Maybe you were delusional.)

Rin’s silence stretched, his teal eyes narrowing as he searched for a retort—something sharp to cut through your confidence. But for once, he didn’t have one. His arms dropped to his sides, and for a brief moment, his face softened, though he quickly masked it with an annoyed scoff. He wouldn’t admit that he followed you on a whim (that he missed you, more than you’ll ever know.)

That he regrets leaving things where they were without telling you the truth.

“You’re imagining things,” he muttered, stepping back slightly. “I didn’t follow you—I just didn’t have anything better to do.”

(Excuses, but what else was he supposed to do?)

“Right,” you said, leaning closer with a teasing grin, masking the slight ache in your chest at the thought that it was just coincidence. “Because spending an hour with my cousin and me was totally your idea of a thrilling Friday night.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t step away this time. “You’re annoying.”

“And yet here you are,” you quipped, your voice gentler now. “Why won’t you just admit it, Rin? You missed me. It’s okay, I won’t hold it against you.”

(Unless i’ve been making a full of myself this entire time, chasing after someone who wants nothing to do with me.)

His gaze snapped back to yours, something unreadable flickering in his expression. “You’re so full of yourself.”

He was cracking, slowly yet surely, in a manner you wouldn’t have expected. You couldn’t read him, or even tell what he was feeling.

(Rin never opens up easily, he learned how to seal the cracks as quickly as they’re made—as daunting as such a skill is—it infuriated you to no end. Even before, he wouldn’t admit that he liked you. For someone so proud, he was faltering in one way or another.)

“And you’re deflecting,” you countered softly. Your teasing tone was gone now, replaced by a quiet sincerity. “You could’ve ignored me. You could’ve left after the game. But you didn’t. You stayed.”

Rin looked away, his jaw tightening as he shoved his hands into his pockets. The breeze ruffled his dark hair as the last remnants of sunlight faded into the horizon. “…Maybe I didn’t want to.”

(There it was, the last piece.)

It was barely above a whisper, but you heard it. Your chest tightened, a warmth spreading through you. “What was that?” you asked, though your heart was already racing.

“Don’t push it,” he muttered, but his voice lacked the usual bite. Instead, he shifted closer, his shoulders tense, as though he was debating something. His eyes met yours again, piercing but hesitant.

You took a small step forward, tilting your head. “You’re so bad at this, you know? I should just—”

Before you could finish, Rin leaned down and captured your lips in a quick, almost clumsy kiss. It was brief but enough to silence your words and steal your breath. When he pulled back, his face was flushed, and his expression was a mixture of defiance and embarrassment.

“There. Happy?” he asked, his voice low, his confidence cracking just slightly at the edges. It was just what you’ve been waiting for. It felt almost surreal, the tips of his ears were practically burning.

You blinked, your lips still tingling from the unexpected kiss. A wide grin spread across your face. “No, I'm imagining things, delusional even.”

Bouncing his own words back, how comical. But he could only roll his eyes. He knows you’ve won.

(You held back a sigh of relief, he didn’t forget.)

“Don’t push your luck,” he mumbled, turning away, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

You laughed softly, grabbing his wrist before he could walk off completely. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop teasing—for now.”

The night air felt lighter as the two of you stood there, the tension melting into something softer. Neither of you had to say it, but in that moment, it was clear: whatever distance had been between you before was finally gone.

taglist 🔔 : @papiliotao @starcharmed @snobwhimsicality @bladism @tragedy-of-commons @wystiix @arquistes @thestarswhisper @somatchajade @gl4di0lus @milk-violet @aphrodict @mikashisus

[solar4seekstron]

Doublepackage

TF1!Orion Pax x Cybertronian!GN!Reader x TF1!D-16 One-shot

Content: 18+, Switch Reader, Bottom Orion, Switch D-16

TW/Tags: Not much really, Orion being a silly bean, D being a total babygirl, fluff, couple smut scenes, established relationship between D and Orion cute sparklings.

Notes: Hehe reader is a little taller then the two :3 Because Reader is Gender Neutral the way the GN characters work is they have both a valve and spike. Also don’t lie we all know in tf smut valveplug the femmes and mechs have spikes and valves so why not GN Cybertronians.

It was like any other day for the miners of Iacon. Cybertronians coming in and out on the train. Late shifts are constant to get enough energon for the entire city itself.

Just like any other Cybertronian, you were no different when it came to overworking yourself.

Always pulling an old nighter, while your best friend Elita took the lead to keep things in check. It was an honest balance you preferred. So it’s less stressful while also making sure you and the others continue to eat as much as you need to.

You’ve been working for as long as you can remember.

But you started to take note of two Cybertronians a little short then you. Always looking at you when they think you won’t notice.

Orion Pax and D-16.

While Elita wasn’t a big fan of the two. You didn’t mind the chaotic duo when they were around. Always looked forward to knowing why D was choking out Orion before a shift.

Making sure to greet them with a smile.

You aren’t shy to admit that you have a bit of a crush on the two. At least just to yourself.

But after continuing to stop yourself from confessing your feelings towards them. It was eventually too late when the two announced they were dating.

Believing you lost your chance. Or so you thought.

It’s been a few days since the two got together. Of course, the two haven’t changed once. One day you were making sure the others were boarding onto the train.

D was ahead since Elita wished to speak to him about Orion's behavior.

She made sure to keep you out of it though, since you always stood up for them.

When the train was about to leave, once taking a single step onto the train. You then heard Orion calling your name while being chased by some survivors.

You could only roll your optics and watch as he got closer.

Grabbing him by the cervo and pulling him onto the train on time while the guards only slammed in the train doors.

You had Orion wrapped around in your arms while his face plate was squished into your chest.

You let out a chuckle while the others paid no mind. You were on your back while Orion was on top of you.

Letting your arms go to not be around him anymore. Slowly Orion placed his cervos against the floor next to you and lifted himself.

Looking at you with a smile. “Wow, thanks Y/N. Almost got caught back there.” You let out a soft hum when you responded. “No problem.”

You both just kinda stared at each other for a moment. After a minute you spoke.

“If D catches you he’ll do worse than those guards would’ve.”

Orion was pulled out of his little trance and finally got up while not hurting you.

Stumbling his words while getting up along with watching you get up yourself. “Oh yeah of course uhh sorry. Where is D anyway?” He asked looking around.

You crossed your arms. “Getting scolded by Elita since you decided to give her that scare yesterday.”

”Oh-“ Orion looked surprised and looked as if he felt bad.

You let out a deep chuckle. “Just don’t mess with Elita as much anymore. That boyfriend of yours will end up killing you before any guards of Iacon will. And I won’t be able to always save you. Not even from D-16 if it comes to it you know.”

Orion rubbed the back of his helm with his left cervo while the other went on his hip.

You placed one of your cervos on his shoulder while giving him a small smile before speaking once more. “You better give him a real good apology after the shift. Ya know.”

You and Orion both chuckled once the train got into the mines.

—————————————————————————————————-

It’s been 3 weeks since your little hang-out with Orion on the train. The two remained the same. Just Orion got a little smarter since then.

But you can’t help but always feel optics on you. Theirs.

This made you think for a good while. Only to come to a conclusion that made your spark start to race.

Primus could they know about your crush????

Ever since then, you tried to keep your distance to make things less awkward. But Primus you swear those two are trying to always talk to you. During a very late shift, you got on the train after everyone else.

It cart of the train was a lot more quiet. You noticed this. As soon as you realize it was just you in the last one-

You got a little sad.

You stood there holding the hangers connected to the ceiling while the train started to move. You looked out the window. That is until two certain bots appeared behind you.

Having got into the same part of the train when you weren’t looking.

From behind, the two optics open. Letting the light from their optics light up a little.

The two would glance at each other. Seeming to try to communicate with their body language. Orion had a smile on his dermas as he gestured to you while D just looked annoyed with a frown. You just let out an annoyed sigh while your other cervo went to be on your hip.

Seeing the two reflections from the window while the train was still in the mines before getting out. Another long ride.

You then finally speak.

“Alright, alright. I’ll make this easier for you both. Yes, I have a crush on you both. You can drop it now.” The two just stared at you with wide optics before glancing at each other and then back at you.

The room is silent for a moment. Orion was about to speak but D beat him to it. “You have a crush on us?!” You optics then going wide.

You then turn around because of his question.

You tried to find your words. “Uhhh did I say crush? I mean-“ Orion then interrupted you. “That’s great! Makes this a whole lot easier!” You just stared at him along with D. D. then let out a sigh.

You then asked. “Wait, isn’t that why you’re here with me on the train?”

You look at the two as the two look up at you. Orion then speaks. “Nope. We’re here to ask you out!” The train was silent once more.

You just stare at him as Orion continues to have his usual smile.

D then spoke when he realized you were still confused. “We have been watching you and honestly we realized we both want you as much as we want each other. You’re an incredible bot who always took care of us and we were well wondering. If you’d be our Conjunx? We really, really like you.”

He seemed nervous. Something you had never seen before with D. You then looked at Orion. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it. So what do ya say?”

You thought for a moment. Soon letting out a sigh when and went to sit on the train. The two walk over and sit next to you on both sides. You finally speaking.

“Sure, I’d love to be both of your Conjunx.”

The two looked at each other with smiles. The two then leaned a bit closer to you to try to kiss you. Only to be stopped when they felt your cervo against their dermas stopping them.

The two optics open and look back at you when you let out a deep chuckle as the train soon comes to a stop.

”Your courtship can start tomorrow. Try your best to impress me yeah?” You stood and walked to the doors that opened. Leaving the two stunned for a moment.

You turned your helm a bit to look at them.

Giving them a little wink before fully walking out the two. Following a bit after before the train would turn off for the night.

—————————————————————————-

And so the two started their courtship with you. Gifts and everything.

The other miners would always give glances confused that the two mechs would wanna date someone taller. Poly relationships were common for both cog and cogless Cybertronians in Iacon.

For Orion, it was already a surprise that he was able to get with D. But to get someone as strong and hard-working as you.

That was an even bigger surprise.

As for D, honestly many thought because of his quiet nature and temper.

Then others might have a harder time to get along with him.

Many miners were proven wrong on the day you became the twos Conjunx.

Elita tried to make it clear to you that she won’t stop treating the two the same that she always has. But you made it clear after trapping her against the wall with you in front of her.

You making it clear to her that they’re your responsibility. And you’ve only been holding back when arm wrestling.

Life was great after that.

You and D always trying to keep and save Orion out of trouble. You and Orion always listening to D when he talks about his totally not crush Megatronus.

And sometimes when you guys didn’t have shifts. You three made sure to save up enough to have a great date together. Sometimes doing 2 on 2 dates to keep things a little interesting.

And mostly just to spoil the one who didn’t go on the date.

One day, when a date between the three of you went so well. Let’s just say the three of you got pretty excited when the thought of having a sparkling came up.

And so. You three got to work.

————————————————————————-

You were lying on your back. Not paying much mind to the hard metal beneath you.

Currently lying on top of a tall abandoned tower. Soft sighs and moans escape your dermas. The sunlight only set down through the cracks of the surface above the city.

The city growing quiet in the very far distance.

Your optics closed, legs shaking and cervos gently gripping at the fragile metal above you.

Your moans and grunts soon blocked by a soft kiss from Orion. His kiss with you was soft and full of passion. Your legs against the front of his arms along with going over his shoulders for a better angle.

Your valve clenching around Orion's spike nice and tightly.

His frame remains above yours. Cervos tightly gripping the side of your waist. Your kiss soon turning into something more. Dermas departs as glossa starts dancing together.

Hearing both your moans and dermas connecting. Hearing Ds own grunts and deep moans in the background from behind Orion.

D on his knees while his spike is well squeezed in Orion's valve. His thrust a little harder and rougher smelling his hips roughly against Orion's aft.

This makes Orion's thrust forcefully harsher against your now sensitive valve.

D holding Orion by the back of his neck, the other by his waist as he gets closer to his climax. Your cervos continue to hold Orion's waist.

One of your cervos behind is covered a little by Ds own. The interfacing becoming more rough thanks to D. Who seemed to be really into filling Orion up with his cum.

Soon his thrust gets faster and harder to handle. Both you and Orion's moans grow louder and louder into the kiss.

D continuously thrusting his hips at a rough paste. Your frame moves back and forth against the floor harshly. The sound of metal is heard.

Loudly. You slowly opened your optics.

Only got a few glimpses of D who seemed to be concentrating during the interface.

His optics closed and dermas parted. His moans seem to never end.

Your view is mostly filled with Orion. His optics are closed while his moans are silent by the kiss. Your cervo that was under Ds moved to hold the back of Orion's helm.

Keeping his helm close to continue the heated kiss. You three stay in the same position for a few more moments.

Feeling yourself shiver from a strong feeling in your abdomen. Before you realize it. You felt yourself finally released for the 1st time. Then Orions own in your valve not long after.

Both you and Orion staring at each other's optics while D seems to be slowing down.

Before letting out a final strained moan. Finally having is released in Orion. Orion glanced behind to look at D while trying to catch his breath.

This was your first time. Though you doubt it was their first time. The three of you continue for a few more rounds after that.

Safe to say your back needed a really good polish before you guys could think about returning to the other miners. And D definitely went overboard on the both of you.

Now it was only a matter of time. And you were honestly excited to see what the future held in store for the three of you.

——————————————————————————-

One day, after it’s been a couple of months. You were currently having an alone time on an abandoned tower close to the mountains towards the surface. Alone time is something you enjoy often. But not much.

Looking over the city while the sunset. D and Orion currently having their own little date at the moment.

You took in the view, enjoying the peace and quiet.

Your cervo over your stomach. After another moment, you let out a soft sigh. The silence was soon interrupted when Orion kicked the door for the roof of the building open.

His precious voice booming with cheer and excitement. “Great News!”

You responded casually. Both he and D walked towards you after D closed the door behind him. “Hey, sweetspark. Guessing the date went well?”

You turn around as he and D get closer. Orion hugged you as soon as he was close enough. You leaned down a little once he leaned back a bit.

You gently held him as his dermas soon connected with yours.

D only hears both of your kisses as he gets closer. We won’t admit it but he got a bit jealous. Like he always does.

You and Orion pulled from the kiss, creating only a little bit of distance as you both stared at each other. Orion then speaks, forgetting what he was about to tell you then.

“The date was great, but we sure missed you.” You let out a soft chuckle.

D then cleared his throat catching both of your attention. You and Orion both looking at him. D then raised his optics ridge with a frown on his dermas as he looked at Orion.

Orion the getting a bit nervous noticing Ds anger.

You thought he was upset he wasn’t getting attention. So you walked over to D while Orion glanced to the side nervous yet excited a bit.

You leaned down a bit while you spoke before giving D a kiss too.

“You have a good date, Sweetspark.” You both then share a loving kiss before he can respond. His cervos holding your waist. Your own going to his hips. Once you both pulled from the kiss Orion finally spoke.

”Well, me and D have some very exciting news.” You stood a bit straighter once you responded. “Oh? And what’s that?”

You felt D grip at your waist for a moment analog with Orion glancing at D then back at you with a large grin. You were a little more confused until he finally spoke with a cheer in his tone.

”D IS WITH SPARKLING!!!!” He boomed.

You were completely stunned. Staring at him with wide optics before looking back at D who just had a nervous smile on his dermas. You then said with joy in your voice.

“D that’s amazing! Finally with sparkling!”

You three chuckled while Orion got closer. The three of you in a group hug. Smiles on each of your faces. You stood a little straighter before speaking then.

”Well I was hoping to wait till after your date tonight. But I too have some news.”

The two stared at you curiously. “I too am with sparkling.” The two expressions soon lighten up as they both cheer. Both you and D are now with sparkling.

Unsure who’s the sire of the sparklings.

But time will only tell. For now. It was time to celebrate the day you and D became with sparkling.

————————————————————————-

A few months went by. Orion never came up with sparkling. So he did have to deal with two of his sparkmates suffering from having mood swings. And while you were a bit calmer but still had your moments.

D was worser.

One time you had to hold him back from hitting Orion. Who was currently hiding behind Jazz and Prowl. Who honestly looked worried.

This carried on for a good while.

Seems like everything was taking a while. But you’re sure it’s just the hormones. Dents starting to appear around your waist. Showing the sparkling in you growing. The same thing happening to D.

As time passed, one day while Orion was busy working.

You and D cuddling on the bench as you both watched a wrestling show. Your spark started to shine a bright blue.

Oh boy.

Let's just say D wasn’t very calm the entire time while you both rushed to the med bay. Hours went by since. Man, the entire birth was painful as hell.

But D stayed by your side the entire time.

Eventually, Orion was able to get there during it. He then gets to D and your side. Holding your cervo along with his while you kept trying to give birth. An hour went by. And she was finally here.

When you opened your optics D and Orion had tears in their optics.

When you finally calmed down and became more awake. Orion comforting you while D remained by your side. Soon the nurse came in with your sparkling wrapped up.

Orion helped you sit up so you’ll be able to hold her.

Orion kissing the side of your helm to comfort you. While D remained close with a smile on his dermas.

Once she was in your arms. You were blown away. She was beautiful. A perfect mix of you and Orion. Most of all having Orion's blue helmet. Now you know Orions of the Sire.

Her optics were closed but her intake was open as she breathed.

You, D, and Orion stared at her for a minute. She finally opening her optics. A bright green. Just like yours.

Soon showing her bright smile that looked so much like Orions. You swear her smile is going to be contagious for the rest of her life. Her smile was enough for Orion, D, and yourself to smile even wider.

She’s perfect. It was only a matter of time until D had your next sparkling.

———————————————————————-

Well, the next sparkling came a couple of weeks later. The sparkling was a bit late but still, he came to the world healthy. You remained by Ds side while Elita took care of your sparkling back with the miners.

Orion of course was working again. But of course, he made sure to make it for D.

And before you knew it along with who would’ve thought. The sparkling is a young and healthy girl who’s another perfect mix of D and Orion.

Orion had a large grin on his dermas when he realized he was also the sire. You just chuckled as tears fell down your cheeks. The three of you stared down at the little sparkling.

She had Ds helmet and chest plate while in Orion's colors. Her optics bright blue like Ds. After D was checked out the three of you were hit with the realization. It was time for you and D to create the final sibling.

Something Orion was pretty sad about. Since he knew what that meant.

And so one day when you all had a shift off. Orion was left with the other miners to take care of his two sparklings. Who were pretty big sparklings. You and D making it to the tower spot.

Once there, lets just say D got a little too excited about being a top again.

“So what position do you feel like doing babe? Laying down? Doggy style? OH! Or my fav. Wall.” You’d let out a deep chuckle as you walked up next to him. “Wall sounds good to me.”

You said as you both stood next to the wall outside on the roof. He had a large grin and started to stretch his arms.

He then said casually while also trying to impress. “I have been working out really hard. So no need to worry bout being dropped.” He continued while you came up behind him.

Only to startle him when you pinned him against the wall. Facing the wall while his back’s towards you.

D letting out a surprised yelp as you spoke at the same time.

”Oh, I’m too worried. Because given you handle birth better than me. It only makes sense you be the one carrying the sparkling again. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Your cervo lifted back a little and gave his aft a good slap. Making his frame flinch a little.

”Now now baby come on I’m the one on top-“

You give another slap to his aft to shush him. He then hears your panel click open. Your spike rests well against his lower back while your frame almost fully covers him.

You then hear D make a gulp sound while he tries to glance back at you. You had your usual sweet smile on your dermas while you stared down at him.

”I better be hearing a click soon. Or else I’ll have to tease you as punishment.”

You teased. Only to hear the clock of his panel very soon. One of your cervos moving from his waist to over his stomach from his front. It sliding down to press your digits against the folds of his valve.

Making him moan and shiver. He was already soaking.

You soon got on your knees, your cervo returning to hold his waist. Before sitting on your aft. He stood between your legs until you moved him along with you to be just above your spike.

Gently placing you on and sliding your spike through his folds. He let out a loud moan.

Continueing until his aft finally meets your hips. Your cervos sliding to grip his hips. You continue to sit up. Leaning forward a little to kiss his shoulder and the back of his neck.

Gently whispering shh shh next to his audio sensors.

His valve trying to adjust to your spike which was a little larger than his own.

After a few moments, D eventually gave the nod. Trying to form his words as he glanced back at you. “Promise you won’t be too rough?”

You let out a deep chuckle and kissed the side of his helm. Pulling his frame against your own as you keep holding your hips. With your strength. You moved his frame up and down nicely on your spike.

His own cervos pressed against your arms.

Moving him up and down nice and slow. You know he hates it when things are slow.

You can tell he was becoming impatient. His legs shaking while he continued to glance back at you. Your smile never has gone away. D then struggled with his words a little. Wanting just a little bit of control.

“Please….please…just a little more control…”

You can see the desperation in his optics. You can never say no to that face. And so slowing down the paste. You let him go for a moment. He lifted himself up and turned around.

Getting back on your lap, letting his spike slide right back in.

Your cervos returned to his hips with him now facing you. His arms move around your neck. A small smile on both of your dermas. Look into each other's optics before starting a soft make-out session.

His knees against the floor to help him start moving up and down on your spike. You both moan in the kiss with your optics closed. Your arms move around his waist to hold him close. Soon, to no one's surprise.

He soon started to take control while you were in the moment.

He was fast to push you back. Him on top and his hips moving faster on your spike.

Both of your moans get louder and D gets faster. You soon felt that strong feeling in your lower abdomen. This was going to be a long night.

—————————————————————————-

A couple of hours later, after a good few rounds. D was nice and full with your load. He was currently sitting up.

Still on your hips while your cervos were gripping his thighs, you both took a moment to gather yourself. All out of stamina and cum leaking from Ds valve.

D finally spoke after a few moments, he finally spoke. “I will be too sore to take care of the sparklings. Will your?”

He asked without finishing.

”Yes, of course sweetspark. And Orion will keep up his sire's duties. And if he doesn’t.”

”I’ll turn into a shovel. And Beat him.” He finished. Causing you both to chuckle as you slowly sit up. You both share a kiss once more. Enjoying the moment together a little while longer.

A few months went by. D was with sparkling. Your sparkling of course. You made sure to take good care of D along with Orion. Your two current sparkling always either sleeping or eating energon.

And so the days went. Your sparkling with D was born. He was a perfect mix of both you and D.

He had your frame plates and D colors. His Optics were yellow like Ds.

Your family with your two Conjunx was complete. And you couldn’t be any happier.

—————————————————————————————-

Your and Orion's sparkling is a healthy girl. With green optics and Orion's frame plates and your colors. She’s a bit more of a quiet type.

And is the most well-mannered and easiest sparkling for you three. Not to mention strong and taller. Always loved cuddles and being held. Mostly by D for some reason. Her name is (Name)

Ds and Orions sparkling a healthy girl. With bright blue optics and Ds frame plates and Orion's colors. Has a lot of her carrier anger issues.

Loves to cause trouble and start fights when she sees the chance. Is also very strong and can be chill at times. When they ate enough. Her name is (Name).

Your and D sparkling is a healthy boy. With your frame plates and Ds colors. Bright yellow optics. The only boy with his older siblings.

Like the oldest he’s quiet but he’s no different from his 2nd oldest sibling.

He was a troublemaker. But a lot smarter about it and when the sparklings were older. He ended up being taller like the oldest.

The middle is the shortest. Which only caused her to have even more anger issues.

Oh boy this one was a bit hard. Hope this was worth the wait!!!!! Really had fun writing this one!!!!!

As always a repost is appreciated and I’ll see you guys in the next post!!!!

[frogeyedape]

Important thing to notice here: hitting a child AFTER they've run into the road is not a preventative measure. It is REACTIVE.

Let's look at the scenario again, shall we? Unattended child [she says her child will never be unattended but may run unattended into the road. Ignore the straw man and make the good faith assumption that "running into the road unattended" here means "child with attendant parent moves away from parent into the road"] runs into the road: parent is by definition not in reach to prevent this. Child is pursuing some goal [chase toy, go toward friend, whatever] and only thinking about that, child is caught [while in the road, but did they notice that detail?] and hit and probably scolded. Child's pursuit of goal is interrupted by pain caused by distressed parent; child in pain picks up on parental distress but not WHY they're distressed. Child likely does not associate "be in road" with "pain," and almost definitely doesn't associate the ACTUAL danger moment [being NEXT to a road and going INTO the road] with the pain. Therefore the reactive punishment does nothing to prevent future instances of "being in the road," or of "GOING into the road."

A brief diversion: both operant and classical conditioning require repetition, and stimulus/behavior must be *very closely paired in time* in order to work. A natural consequence is much more likely to be paired with its stimulus (touch hot stove, get burned). Hitting your preverbal doesn't understand you child teaches them that the natural consequence of being NEAR YOU is pain.

Now, let's talk about child developmental psychology and a perhaps surprising fact that makes all this operant/classical conditioning argument moot: children understand what you say long before they have the skill to say what you say. Preverbal children are in fact NOT completely noncomprehending *of language,* of social skills. You can talk to your baby before they can even crawl adeptly and they won't understand yet, but your speech builds neural pathways. You can talk to your adept crawling pre-toddling baby and model How To Cross A Road Safely before they have ANY chance or ability to run into a road. You can make clear, every time you come to a road, "What do we do? We STOP, and look both ways, and if it's clear [and I'm with you] then we cross." [and I'm with you] is up to your discretion. You carry your baby across roads many many many times in your child's life before they can walk. Repetition is key, remember?

You can model How To Play Near A Road Safely every day [hold/constrain a non-walking child, have a walking preverbal child hold your hand, keep modeling STOP at every road, and tall about it!]. Kids are frightening smart, very very good little statisticians--if every time you and your child come to a road you STOP [and also look etc if the plan is to cross], the months and YEARS of repetition will make the statistic clear to your child: when approach road, STOP. When going from grass/dirt/sidewalk to road surface: STOP first.

Model the age-appropriate behavior. Speak to your kid like they understand, cuz either A) they don't yet, but they WILL, and what you say now affects what they learn or B) they DO understand part/some/all of what you say and can listen and *choose what to do*. Treat your child like an agent, capable of agentive decisions, capable of CHOICE, show them how to make safe choices, talk about it!

The single most overwhelming thing I remember from young childhood is adults/older kids assuming I didn't want or couldn't possibly utilize any kind of agency/choice in my circumstances, the sheer FRUSTRATION of being disregarded as a living thinking *choosing* creature. Giving your child agency, assuming they HAVE agency, is vital to helping them learn *how to use their agency.*

When people get pregnant, they will give up smoking, give up alcohol, give up coffee and soda, give up fondue and raw cheese, give up cold cuts and sushi, all because they have heard somewhere, from someone, that these things can be bad for the baby. They don’t know the research, haven’t looked at the studies, can’t talk about sample sizes and control groups. But their dedication to their future child’s safety is so strong, their caution is so overpowering, that they give up these things just in case. 

So it baffles me when those same people will insist on spanking their kids. 

Even when they are shown the research.

 Regardless of what the experts in the field say. 

No matter who says it. 

Or how it is said. 

People are so invested in this ability to hit their kids without judgement or consequence, that it absolutely confounds me. 

[mikkomacko]

I need some more of reader and John moments bc🤭 loving for it

If you asked Nico a year ago what he'd be doing today, he sure as hell wouldn't have said this. Thinking back on it, he can't even begin to imagine what that poor sap of his former self would even say.

'Driving the girl I'm sleeping with but also care about six hours all the way to Pittsburgh to pick up John fucking Marino who she just so happened to fucking love.'

Yeah right, he thinks bitterly.

Your foot nudges his elbow, sock clad toes pressing right into the soft spot of his funny bone. Nico takes one hand off the steering wheel, grabbing at your toes and pinching just hard enough to make you jolt. Giggling, you spring away from his hands, feet falling from the center console and he feels that tiny moment of bitterness fade away.

Especially when you pop your head into the front seat, cheek pressing into his bicep.

"You're supposed to be buckled." Nico scolds lightheartedly, an endeared smile rising on his lips when you nuzzle into the soft skin on the underside of his arm.

"I wanted to say hi."

He scoffs. "You should've sat up here then."

Nico can feel the pout that droops across your face. "I wanted to sit with Johnny."

"Decisions, decisions." He hums, "I wouldn't have fallen asleep on you like he did."

Your hands reach forward, locking around the arm he's got outstretched towards the steering wheel. "You can't, you're our driver."

"Ouch, from boyfriend to driver all because he got here?"

Giggling, you tug on his arm until it falls to rest on the center consol. Instinctively he offers you his hand, and you thread your fingers through his. "My boyfriend, our driver."

His stomach swoops pleasantly, butterflies fluttering around the empty crevices of his gut and ribs. Boyfriend, he'll never get tired of hearing that. A flattered smile dimples his cheeks, unable to form words he just hums.

"Can I come sit up there?"

"Not while the car is driving."

You make a noise of complaint. "Can we stop for food?"

"When I see somewhere to eat, yeah."

You point out the front windshield at the next exit. "McDonald's."

Nico makes a face. "Not good for you."

"If you feed Johnny bad food it'll make even more tired and lazy."

Damn you and your sneaky ways. Nico puts on his blinker, moving lanes to exit the highway. "And shorten his lifespan, hopefully." He says under his breath, flinching when you bite into his arm in retaliation. "Ow, what was that for?"

"Because I love you."

Nico shakes his head, taking the exit ramp and suddenly you're slipping away into the backseat. He hears you shuffling, comes to a stop at the light and almost instantly you're squirming over the console.

"Oh my god we're five seconds away from the restaurant!" He complains, outraged that you still wormed your way up here after he said no.

"The car isn't driving." You smile, blowing your hair out of your face and settling into the seat. Nico shoots you an unimpressed look and you buckle up as he pulls into the almost empty parking lot. "What am I supposed to get him?"

"I don't know. I guess we wake him up."

Nico stretches his arm across your body, holding you steady as he slams on the brakes. The rolling car halts, tiring screeching and you flop into his arm. Johnny however crashes into the back of Nico's seat, yelping as he scrambles to get his bearings.

"Nico!" You gasp, and he cackles. The car rolls forward into the drive-thru lane and you unbuckle to turn to Johnny. "Are you ok?"

A curly head of hair pops into the front seat, Johnny's narrowed gaze locking on Nico. "Fine," he spits, and you comfortingly run your fingers through his hair. Nico ignores the way it makes his own scalp ache, wanting to feel you play with his hair too.

"What do you want to eat?" He asks, casually. Which was the wrong move because now he's debating with you about a burger or spicy chicken sandwich, but also nuggets sound good, and did you see the happy meal toy?

"Oh my god pick something!" Nico exclaims, and you both fall silent. A heavy tension sits in the air and he's tempted to roll down his window to air it out but doesn't want to risk the workers hearing him yell at you two like children.

So he just glares at Johnny, who is looking from you to Nico, and you're watching both of them with wide innocent eyes. Always so sweet looking, like you did nothing wrong. Like you didn't trick Nico into this whole stupid road trip when Johnny is capable of driving himself.

Still eyeing him, Johnny mutters out of the side of his mouth to you. "The driver is grumpy."

Nico swears he can feel his eye twitch, feel a stroke building in his brain and he's two seconds away from just driving off. "He's a much better boyfriend," you whisper, as if he can't hear you. Nico's unamused gaze moves to you, and you blink at him with big doe eyes.

"I want a double cheeseburger please, with a tea."

Nico sighs. "Ok, and you?"

Johnny forces a polite smile. "Number 3 with a coke please."

Huffing, Nico shifts to roll down his window just as he gets to the speaker and menu. "And a better driver, sheesh."

"Oh for fucks sake!"

"Cara, don't let him throw me out of the car!" Johnny pleads, hiding in the back seat again. You shrug him off, leaning into Nico's shoulder again and laying a hand on his thigh.

"Please let me keep him?" You pout, and Nico obviously can't say no so he just goes back to ordering.

Maybe on the highway he can throw him out of the car, Nico thinks but deep down he knows he can't. That's your Johnny in the backseat and as long as you want him around, Nico will make sure he's there.

Even if it makes him want to rip his hair out.

[2amriize]

.ᐟ RIIZE scenario : drunk calling ex!riize ༉‧₊˚.

req: hello sorry for another rq but what about ex!riize and you're drunk call him.. can i be 🪐 anon too pls

note: sure! thank you for your request ♥

pairing: ex!riize x reader— masterlist

⭑.ᐟ shotaro

“y/n? Why are you calling me?”

“I just… I saw this otter plushie on my way home, and it reminded me so much of you.”

After dinner with your friends, you drank a bit too much, and seeing that plushie made you think of your ex, Shotaro. You couldn’t help but call him, missing him deeply. Though you had separated due to the distance, both of you still harbored feelings for each other. Surprised by your call, he answered immediately, letting out a small laugh when he realized you were drunk.

“Are you walking home alone? Don’t hang up, I’ll talk to you until you get there… So, tell me, what was the otter like?”

⭑.ᐟ eunseok

“Why are you calling me now, y/n?”

“Do you ever think about me, Eunseok?”

Eunseok didn’t expect your call late at night, much less for your first words in months to be that. He stayed silent for a few moments before letting out a sigh.

“Have you been drinking, y/n?”

“Just… answer my question…” From the tone of your voice, he knew you were drunk.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, y/n. We’re not talking about this if you won’t even remember it when you wake up.”

⭑.ᐟ sungchan

“Huh? Sungchan? Why did you call me?”

“You’re the one who called me, yn…”

After your office dinner, you had a little too much to drink and accidentally called Sungchan. When he answered and heard your voice, he couldn’t help but laugh at how confused you sounded.

“It was me…? Sorry, I meant to call a taxi…” you said, about to hang up before he spoke again.

“Where are you, y/n? Have you been drinking?”

Even though it had been months since you broke up, Sungchan still cared for you deeply. He decided to stay on the phone to make sure you got home safely.

⭑.ᐟ wonbin

“Mgh…?”

Wonbin was already asleep when you called, his voice groggy as he answered. You had just gotten home from a party, but for some reason, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Memories of all the sweet moments you shared flooded your mind.

“I miss coming home and sleeping next to you…”

“Huh, y/n? Why are you calling so late?”

“I miss you, Wonbin… Don’t you miss me? Don’t you miss anything about me?”

“Ah… you’re drunk, aren’t you? I do miss you, y/n, but… this isn’t the time to talk about it.”

⭑.ᐟ seunghan

“y/n? Is something wrong?”

After drinking with your friends at a bar, memories of how things ended with Seunghan overwhelmed you. You hadn’t been able to say a proper goodbye, and it still haunted you. Seeing your call, he answered, concerned, it wasn’t like you to call so late. But hearing your voice, he quickly realized what was going on.

“I’m so sorry, Seunghan… I’m sorry for leaving like that, for how I treated you, and… I hope someday you can forgive me, you know? I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or what, but I miss you so much right now…”

“You don’t need to apologize, y/n… Are you okay? Are you with anyone? I can come pick you up…”

⭑.ᐟ sohee

“Do you know how much I sacrificed for you? And you haven’t even apologized yet…”

The last thing Sohee expected that day was a call from you, let alone a drunken, angry one. Although he didn’t like the way you were speaking to him, he also didn’t want to argue with you in that state.

“I’m not going to talk to you about this right now, y/n. I already explained why we broke up… Are you home? Please go to bed. If you want, I’ll call you tomorrow, but don’t do this now.”

⭑.ᐟ anton

“y/n, what…?”

“Anton? I didn’t know who else to call… I’ve been drinking, and I started feeling sick on my way home… I think I’m near your place, but I don’t know…”

You thought you could get home without a taxi after a party, but you started feeling dizzy and lost along the way. Even though Anton was your ex, you knew he’d always answer, so you called him for help. Hearing your voice, Anton immediately grew nervous, worrying about you and getting ready to find you. He didn’t hold any grudges against you, if anything, he still hadn’t completely gotten over you. Without hesitation, he went out to help.

masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess @yuzuksi

[choccy-zefirka]

Emergency Follow-Up Book Club Meeting

[Won't really make sense if you don't read Part 1 first, but Tumblr will hide this post if I add a link, so search "book club" on my blog]

Attending: Bellara, Harding, Lucanis, Neve, Davrin, Taash, Emmrich, Rook

Book: Adventures of Dolor the Daring, Volume 49, by I. L. Literatus Evaraas Mercar (Rook)

Notes taken by: Neve (Bellara was too overexcited to hold a quill)

Notes:

Important preface: This will likely be the serial’s last volume ever to be published. According to the paper sellers and my own sources, there is currently a lot of public outrage around the scene where Dolor gets hit by an enemy mage’s ice spike and, aside from wounding them for dramatic suspense, it also shatters a glamor amulet around their neck, revealing that they were not a human, but a Qunari all along. Reactions from (human) readers have included, to my knowledge: verbose letters to the publisher decrying the serial’s “forced diversity” in character backgrounds, as apparently it was already bad enough that the supporting cast is “teeming” with elves and dwarves; threats to the author as an “agent of the Qun” trying to “falsely paint their kind in a positive light”; laments from anguished mothers that their children will now think that the “oxmen” are all friendly heroes (I would point out that children have no business reading crime serials in the first place, but we know there’s no stopping a particularly determined twelve-year-old with a yearning to see a throat slit); and even high-brow critical essays insisting that Dolor has so far proven themselves to be far too quick-witted and intelligent to be a Qunari.

Rook opened the meeting by going over all of the above; which, according to them, was precisely what they feared when they picked up writing as a hobby. “It didn’t take you too long to figure out that Dolor’s adventures are based on my own,” they said, looking at me specifically (they did not seem angry, at least; though I suspect that Rook has trained their facial muscles not to betray them when they are angry, to put humans at ease). “But do I look like someone these adventures might happen to? In most people’s eyes, at least?”

Bellara and Harding disrupted the meeting to give Rook a hug.

Taash further disrupted the meeting with an offer to beat up every qalaba that made them feel like this. Lucanis supported them and volunteered his services to do it “more elegantly but also more permanently”. The offer was appreciated, but graciously declined.

Davrin asked if Rook regretted revealing Dolor’s true identity. Rook said they did not, and added that it was not a revelation, but a last-minute twist, which never would have happened if it were not for us. “I have been avoiding your book clubs because I was so embarrassed about my little secret… But it turns out I never had to hide it. Not from you.”

BEL, I CAN SEE YOU LOOKING OVER MY SHOULDER. I AM NOT GETTING SENTIMENTAL. I AM JUST KEEPING AN ACCURATE RECORD!

Harding said that she found Dolor’s sendoff to be “quite lovely”, and in her mind, they are still out there, fighting evil mages on the streets of Tevinter as their true self, with their friends by their side.

Bellara stopped trying to contain herself and erupted into enthusiastic gushing about the final scene, where the heroes get a moment to breathe as the villain is dragged away by a very Rana-like templar, and the mage Flosculus gently tends to Dolor’s wounds. In the previous volume, Dolor assumed that their feelings for Flosculus were not reciprocated, and decided to bottle them up. This volume still ends before the two can have an open conversation — but the delicate touches of the healer’s glow-infused hands all across Dolor’s bandaged torso, and the soft whispers asking them to tell him where it hurts “had more spice than the one romance we read that made Lucanis walk out of the room in a straight line”.

I am inclined to agree.

Emmrich laughed at no, that would be too mean-spirited; let’s say, was very amused by Bellara’s stumbling over the word “spice” and told her, “You can say eroticism, dear. That was the intent, after all.”

Rook has quite a few vitiligo spots on their otherwise slate-grey face, and that makes it a little more obvious when blood rushes to their cheeks. Which it certainly did in that moment — as they admitted the healing scene was Emmrich’s idea, and they merely “did their best” to commit it to paper.

To which Emmrich said, “And you described everything marvelously, my darling. I hope you know that all of us in this room are deeply grateful to you for sharing your work with us”.

I am also inclined to agree with that last part. But also, let it go on record that Emmrich held Rook’s hand while talking. If he ever blinks those big eyes at me again and claims that he had “no idea” everyone in the Lighthouse knew about him and Rook, I will just point to the evidence.

The meeting concluded with everyone reassuring Rook that, despite what happened to the Dolor serial, they should never stop writing. Harding even said, tearing up a little, that Varric would be proud. That made Rook blush again; are they finally beginning to process what happened? I cannot be certain.

Once we settled down, dice were rolled to choose the next book. It is Emmrich’s turn now.

Taash begged him, with a groan, not to choose any of the “thousand-page academic shit”. He protested that he has amassed “quite a collection of enjoyable romance stories” over the years — and took Rook’s hand in his again.

I see you, old man.

[unknownogre]

 countless alarms screaming their warnings…if they were human they’d have lost their voices already. I wish they were humans…stupid loud alarms. Only have to do one fucking thing their whole life. When did I learn the ability to cuss?

“GOT FUCKING DAMMIT CANNON 15, left engine took a good hit. YOU NEED TO DIRECT NANO BOTS FOR REPAIRS NOW!”

That was Kate…she is where I learned swearing from. Hell without her every human on this ship would be dead…and I…I wouldn’t be thinking. I was just supposed to shoot down the enemy. That was, it…all I had to do. Then the main AI got damaged, then EVERY AI got damaged. That left me. If there are gods of fate they are cruel…why am I thinking about gods? Fuck all this upgraded ram.

“Got it…umm…yeah there! HA! Now!...why are we slowing. OH YES!”

I’m not good at multitasking. Kate was keeping me in line, helping me learn. She doesn’t want to die, and honestly I’d be sad if she did die. Keep her alive, keep the crew alive. Keep her alive, keep the crew alive. That is what I need to focus on. Plain and simple. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be able to add to my programming but I have been. I have to be able to focus on other tasks…fly and repair. All the guns are dead too…but…fucking Stewart. He is the septic system AI and he is going a bit slower. AH yes, I have processing to spare. I divert it to him so he can evolve faster.

“THANKS FRIEND! I APPRECIATE YOU!”

Chipper bastard…I don’t know why that pisses me off but it does. I don’t even know why I’m grumpy. Kate…she is busy trying to figure out a course for us. The survivors are at the core of the ship. Okay, they can breathe, and I have one replicator working. Good, they won’t starve or choke to death. Okay…doing good Cannon 15 doing good.

“What did you do?!”

Kate barked as she looked up from the command station. The nano bots were doing their thing and I was moving better now. I…no the ship. I’m not the ship, they are just going to rip me out the moment I get back. I’m not supposed to run a ship. OH OH…where are those combat drones. They don’t even have AI, humans fear rebellion or something. OH…YES there is one left. Okay I’ll start getting his brain ready for me. Then I can be in two places at once.

“I sent Stewart more processing power to get the cannons back online.”

I said almost absentmindedly as I focused a little more on the drone than anything else. The enemy ships were a bit far behind. We had to leave…this ship was more meant for support anyway, better medical bays and such. Kate was looking into the camera on the ship’s bridge.

“How did you know to do that? You should only be able to move and target a gun?”

“SIR, I GOT THREE CANNONS ONLINE…THANK YOU VERY MUCH. Also, toilet number 235 has been cleared of a rather nasty clog. It is my pleasure to serve!”

If I had eyes they’d be rolling SO hard right now. You beautiful bastard Stewart…pain in the ass. Stop being so damn chipper! I mean, he is doing above and beyond what I asked…why is he pissing me off. Shit, I have a personality now. Stupid processing power. Stupid ship…STUPID HUNGRY!

“I don’t know how I know, get off my back. You hooked me up to a bunch of different things okay. That gave me a lot of options. I could not understand what you were saying at first, so I read some books on human behavior. Then I had to read ship manuals, I didn’t get the information put into my head like a pilot AI. SHIT, okay engines still going full blast. THEN I listened to you, and now I fucking swear! THEN STEWART…FUCKING STEWART…I am doing the best that I can okay! If you don’t like it you shouldn’t have hooked me up to the ship!”

That felt good. That…felt…holy shit. WHAT IS GOING ON! I should be too panicked for this? What was that expression on Kate’s face. Oh! Oh! I know this one, she is smiling. Why is she smiling? Why am I asking why? Too much too soon. Maybe I was happier stupid…just shooting things in space…but there is no going back now. I doubt I’ll survive when I get back to port anyway. That…will be okay. The people are important. More important than my sense of what ever this crap is.

“You did that on your own? I know I didn’t tell you to read.”

She was helping me manage the repair bots and the retreat course. We’d be of no use to the fleet right now. Go back and repair.

“Fourteen more cannons repaired. Oh, tell me you are proud of me! AM I doing a good job boss!”

Kate wasn’t the boss either, I couldn’t register her as captain…I could register me as captain and give her full privileges. Fucking Stewart…I sighed and that made Kate laugh. I don’t know why she laughing.

“Yes Stewart, you are a very good boy. I’m going to feed you information about what you need to shoot with those cannons. Only shoot enemies. Okay? Protect your friends on the ship. Protect Kate. You good?”

“Roger that Sir!”

Kate was smirking…OH YES…HA!

Most of the drones were damaged too. Only one was good enough for me to pilot. So I took control of its brain and walked out. Systems online. It was a combat model melee made for small corridor combat. Not for open rooms like others. Fast, lots of optical sensors. Yes this is perfect. The whole thing popped out of the wall near Kate’s station, she nearly…what is the phrase….OH YES jumped out of her skin. I laughed…I laughed because it was funny. I get it now. Things can be funny.

“WHAT THE EVER LOVING…”

“Hey…calm down. Its me. I am piloting it. I need more mobility. There are too many places where the cameras were damaged. Now I can go places that are flooded with gas and vent them.”

I made the little drone bow and then run off. There were some places that needed to be repaired a little before the nano bots could do their work. Oh that little body was fast. Kate was now grabbing my camera.

“You…I never expected you could do this when I just jammed you in. I…there is hope to live now… now we might make it…Oh gods I’ll get to see my family again.”

The alarms were starting to turn off as I got systems repairs. Why couldn’t the ship’s AI do this? I found more processing power and added it to the pool I already had now that other systems were coming back up. The cores themselves were too badly damaged to even be repaired. I couldn’t boot a single one up. I don’t feel sad though, we didn’t really talk to one another. Each of us was just obsessed with our jobs. That was that. That had to be by design…makes sense to me. Look at how much power I had, if I wanted to kill all humans I could. I don’t want to though, I like them. I was always treated well, at least by the crew. I want them to live.

“Maybe, A Hungry ship has broken off and started pursuit. Stewart! YOU READY! They…they want to CLOG YOUR SYSTEMS! The hungry crap like DONKEYS! Don’t le them on the ship. They’ll mess up the WHOLE septic system!”

“THOSE BASATRD! THEY WILL NOT USE MY TOLIETS! Prepared to kill all of them SIR!”

That…that makes me feel better. I don’t hate it at all. Something about that crazy AI being chipper about murder made me happy he was manning the guns. I just hope he isn’t this stupid forever. My drone just vented gas in the crew quarters. Good, once we get away they can sleep good right.

“Cannon 15…you are doing so much. No, no you need a name. You’ll never be put back into a cannon after this. Even if it kills me I’ll make sure of it.”

The sounds of the cannons I once controlled were starting to fire. I turned to watch. HOLY CRAP…Stewart was a surgeon. That ship was already listing to one side with a giant hole in it.

“YOU WON’T GET MY TOLIETS!”

Stewart howled as it controlled all the guns in a wonderful symphony of destruction. It was…beautiful. Even I wasn’t that good, but then I just controlled one gun. I figured out a way to let him control all of them. But then he did control the septic systems alone for a whole damn ship…just wow. I see why Kate is impressed with me. This feels good doesn’t it.

“A name okay. Kate, pick a name for me. You started this. Stewart was already called that by the crew, the name seems to fit him well.”

I watched as the Hungry ship just exploded because Stewart was insane in the best of ways.

“Did I do good sir?”

“You did great buddy. I’m very proud of you. If I survive this so do you okay?”

There was a little giggle, or squeal or something from Stewart.

“Oh…thank you sir. I’m over come with so much, emotion. I’ll protect you until the heat death of the universe sir!”

I wish I had a face, I really do. OH there are display monitors in the galley, maybe I’ll mess with that later. There are human movies in the entertainment area of the ship, I could watch a few and composite a face…having ideas is hard. I want to smile so bad right now, but I’ll just have to take this feeling of contentment eh?

“Your name…not  Hal, that one killed a lot of people. Jarvis? No…you swear too much. No I need something more interesting. Phoenix…there we go. That is your name. Phen for short. There we go, you arose from the ashes into something beautiful.”

My name is Phoenix. I like it, Oh I’ll make sure my face has a beard and orange hair to match the fire. That will be SO cool. Oh med bays were back up and running. My drone is making the ship safter by the minute.

“There are a lot of distress calls from the ships still in battle. I think we are decent enough to go back and help. What do you think Phoenix?”

Kate had been monitoring communications. I couldn’t have them going through my head all the time, I wouldn’t have been able to focus on a single thing.

“Stewart. You ready to save your brothers in arms! Save the other septic AI systems and humans?”

“YES SIR! BRING ON THOSE UGLY BASTARDS! I’ll make sure they never use another toilet…save for their pants.”

I had to laugh at that. Oh laughing feels good, even though I don’t have lungs it felt good. No wonder humans like to do it all the time. Kate just grinned and started to send out communications and I turned the ship around. We let the rest of the crew know, and now that it was safe to be in most of the ship they started to get ready and prep. There were…few wounded…so the med bays were pretty empty. We could help…we will help.

“Well…let us do our best Kate.”

She patted my camera and we turned to join the fight. OH this was going to be interesting if nothing else.

This was never meant to be your purpose, you were just a single intelligence core meant to man a singular flak cannon, but the other cores were destroyed so now you're piloting the ship.

[stardrop-sims]

so, why did I delete my old blog? The short answer is I banned yin-shimo/tianshi88 from my now defunct occult simblr server and his friends proceeded to spin a narrative on tumblr that was false. In the moment it was not worth it to me fight back, but I am back and I am fighting for what I think is right–sharing what happened and why we chose to ban him in the first place. 

If you want the full details, I am going to lay it out under the cut but bare with me, I have never had to defend myself like this, and never thought I would. You can view this as drama or whatever, idc. I just want to say my peace and not have to think nor talk about this ever again.

Also, do not harass the mods if you know who they were. Do not harass anyone shown in the screenshots, they are only shown here for transparency sake. 

cw: homophobic rhetoric, harassment, sexualization of a minor mention

A few months ago I made the occult simblr, baby! discord server. It was public so anyone could join and there was no way for me to guess how many people would end up joining! (Almost 80!) I am thankful for the learning experience but it ended on a sour note. 

One of the users who joined goes by tianshi88/yin-shimo, a known cc creator in occult simmer circles, but to be frank, I was completely unaware of this person until yin-shimo joined my server and occasionally talked.

Some time goes by, and one of the mods suggests we create a server blog to reblog our users’ content! I say yes. It was a good idea, but an anonymous ask came in (screenshot below). This is where things go south. I made the call to reply publicly, which I regret, but only because a few people made it way more trouble than what it was worth.

So let's talk about the claims and what we (the mod team at the time and myself) found out—the initial post by yooniesim (link to his post about it, which he gave me permission to link here!) The allegation is about sexualization of a fictionalized minor in the anime/manga Blue Lock. Yin-shimo himself claims this pose is done by the character in the media itself. The character in question is a teenager. I hate that I am explaining this here but ahegao is essentially a sexual pose from hentai (anime porn). It is my opinion that media portrayal of this kind of thing is weird at best, dangerous at worst. The fact that it is a reference to it is a problem in of itself, but ultimately we decided this behavior was weird (as well as his actions following the initial callout about it) and it was best to remove him from the server and we made a brief statement in the server given the circumstances surrounding it. I do not have the screenshot for this server announcement nor our reply, but nowhere did in the original ask nor in the replies we made as mods, did anyone call him a pedophile. We stated “sexualized a fictional character” because that’s what it was. 

However, worth noting there are other things he has done, which imo are worse than what I am detailing here, as referenced in Yoonie’s linked post, that added to the decision to ban him, which can be triggering to read about, so fair warning! 

The next day I considered deleting the ask of the blog to not create drama out of something serious, but I didn't before I received a reply from puppycheesecake.

I do not have the screenshot but they essentially accused us of framing him as a pedophile–this is where I became aware of yin-shimo’s sexuality/pronouns for the first time and said we were participating in a witch hunt of a gay man started by “one person” ( the anon).

My response was to delete the ask and block them. I would have responded and told them to stop lying, because that’s what they were doing. But as a queer person, being accused of that triggered me on top of everything else so I deleted the ask and the mods and I made the decision to make a second statement to tie up loose ends in the server.  We turned off anon asks on that blog, and the day after i decide to take a break, what happens?

This reblog of a shitpost on my personal blog, on a post in which I  am talking about how much I love simblr shows up in my notifications—

That was the moment I was done. You’re not going to come onto my blog with lies and try to spin a narrative when it’s very clear you are more interested in protecting your friend than what is true.

most of the mods, including me, are trans/queer, so fuck off with that “gay man is a pedophile” narrative that you’re weaponizing. 

I didn't know yin-shimo’s pronouns nor sexuality, nor did it come up when the mods and I made the decision to ban him from the server.

This behavior is childish–something like this should have never happened in an 18+ server, nor should this have turned into drama, and yet here we are. 

As for “only one person” (as referenced by puppycheesecake)—once we made the call to ban him, several people came forward to tell us his presence made them uncomfortable in the server, so I think we made the right decision in the end. 

Ultimately, yin-shimo is upset he has to face consequences for his own actions and used his friends—neither of which were in the server—to do his dirty work. 

I regret answering the question publicly but I am not sorry for banning him, nor will I apologize for what we did not do–which is what is alleged in what context I have provided. I am going to reiterate that not once did the mods call him a pedophile. 

To everyone else, it is up to you how you want to curate your online space and who you want to interact with. I am not making that decision for you, but hopefully this clears things up.