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[woewriting]

turning point (g!p)

pairing: tara carpenter | reader summary: tara calls you to rescue her from a bad date and things take a surprising turn. word count: 3726 warnings: mdni, +18 only! no ghostface au, reader has a dick, friends with benefits (?), clothed sex, language, smut in general. a/n: will you guys believe if i say the date part was inspired by a terrible date my coworker had? because it was and @wesstars is the proof of it!

masterlist

When the 7th episode of season 4 of Stranger Things started you felt your phone vibrating somewhere in between the cozy blankets. As you blindly looked for it, eyes focused on the TV in front of your bed, you felt it vibrating once again, but this time more than once. 

Holding the phone in your hands, the name “tara” followed by a small heart emoji showed on the screen with 4 messages attached to it. Pausing the episode, you unlocked the device. 

tara ♥︎ can you come pick me up? please this is the worst date ever 😭

Sewing your eyebrows together, you were quick to reply, asking for her location. 

tara ♥︎ im at the motel near the campus, green valley or something chad is showering and i told him i’d take an uber home because i wasn't feeling well and didn’t want to stay anymore please come fast

Typing a simple “omw”, you grabbed your hoodie, throwing it over the white tank top you usually wore to sleep along with sweat shorts that easily became a second skin.

It was easy to spot the building as a gigantic green neon sign took over most of the illumination of the empty street. You parked in front of it, patiently waiting for your best-friend as you sent a message letting her know you arrived. The place seemed expensive and well cleaned, unlike most cheap motels that took over the right side of the street near the campus of your college, still, it didn't appetize you to walk in.

Soon, the younger Carpenter ran towards you, sighing in relief when she jumped into the car. 

“That bad, huh?” You asked with a laugh, setting the first gear ready to go back home. 

“You have no idea.” Tara whined, turning on the heat, complaining about how cold it was outside in a whisper. “I'll tell you everything when we get home.”

“I'm watching Stranger Things.” The focus on the road in front of you as you took a right turn didn't allow you to see the indignation expression on her face, more dramatic than it was necessary.

“Is Stranger Things more important than me?”

“I’m about to find out what happened at the Hawkins Lab…” You continued, trying to convince her of your cause, but her next words made you look at her with raised eyebrows, a convinced smile of someone who won drawing her lips.

“He has a small dick.”

“I'm all ears, princess.” 

The return home didn’t take more than 10 minutes, especially with empty roads and yellow sign lights. Tara started telling about her date from the second it started, which was 5PM, the exact time she started to get ready. Honestly, none of that was necessary to reach the part that it all went downhill, but you didn’t dare to interrupt, you paid attention to every word Tara was saying as you carefully parked your car in your designated spot.

The second the elevator stopped on your floor, Tara had finished telling you about the dinner part of her date. 

According to her, the food wasn't bad, but the place was crowded and the music playing was so annoying that it became a bit too much for her. It was already hard to pay attention to anything Chad was saying as the others' conversation was caught in the middle, stealing her attention, all she could was nod and smile, like one of the Penguins from Madagascar. 

You laughed at her indignation and the small wrinkle in between her eyebrows, opening the door and giving her space to walk in. Kicking your shoes away, the both of you automatically walked to the door at the end of the small hallway of your apartment, the episode 7 of Stranger Things’ last season still on pause when you sat on the bed being followed by Tara; Jamie Campbell’s beautiful blue eyes on the screen.

“... and after we got to the motel, things were heating up and his hands were on my ass and he kept pushing me against him and…” Tara stopped talking after noticing the disgusted expression on your face as you made yourself comfortable on the bed. The girl sat right by your side. “I will not spare any details.”

“I’m seriously considering automatically deleting every explicit part of it.” You retorted, shifting uncomfortably against the headboard.

Despite the years of friendship you and Tara had, from Junior High all the way to college — where you both were right now, nothing touchy ever happened between the two of you, not even a single, drunk kiss at parties. You two were close, of course, but not this close, and hearing the vulgar words easily slipping out of her mouth was creating a weird feeling inside your chest.

“I don’t care.” The girl rolled her eyes, moving closer to you. “Continuing, Chad is gentle, nice, and it feels good to be with him, but ugh… I couldn’t even feel anything when I was sitting on his lap.” You let out a small laugh, scratching your eyebrow. That wasn’t the first time Tara rambled about a bad date, but this was Chad, a common friend, and someone that the young Carpenter had a genuine interest in. At this point, that interest had disappeared into thin air. “And when he removed his pants, he had this military patch underwear and black socks on and it was a huge turn off.”

“Black socks really do sucks…”

“I know!” The exasperated way she agreed with you made you laugh, her hand resting near your knee. “Can you believe he didn’t want to take them off? He said he has cold feet.” Her face fell against your thigh, a tired sighing leaving her mouth, hot breath hitting your bate skin. “I should’ve ran when he said that.” Tara mumbled.

Your hand naturally rested on her head in a soft petting, “You really should have.”

The brunette moved a little, laying on her side with her cheek still resting on your leg to feel the soothing moves of your fingers on her hair. The new position gave her a small vision of what's beneath the thick fabric of your shorts, the hem of black boxers peeking through. She looked away, crimson color on her cheeks as she continued the events of the night.

“But, it’s Chad, so I decided to ignore that ridiculous sock and continue.” You nodded your head. “He removed that equally annoying underwear and I swear to God! It was smaller than my hand, and my hands aren’t that big! Look.” To prove her point, she held your other hand, measuring it with her own. She intertwined your fingers together after you agreed with her, resting them both on her chest. “But I was like… okay, it’s not big but maybe he can be good with his tongue.”

“Oh, God.” You choke, closing your eyes. “I will never be able to look at him again.”

“Imagine how I feel!” Tara whined. “But then I thought to myself, he’s a terrible kisser; if he doesn’t know how to use his tongue on my mouth, imagine how bad it’ll be when he use it on my pu—”

“Okay! Let’s not use those explicit words, please.” You interrupted her, shifting again. “But damn, is that guy good at anything?”

“He has a nice body… from the waist up.” This time neither of you could hold back the laugh, the delightful sound of her laughing mixed with yours filled the room for a couple minutes, your hand still playing with the soft strands that spread across your leg. “Chad is a nice guy, but… that’s not enough for me, you know? I crave touching, feeling something. And he was so small I would barely feel anything.” Tara cried out, covering her face with her free hand as the other still held yours against her chest.

“I’m not a sexual freak or anything but I agree, at least the kiss has to be good. So that’s when you messaged me?”

“I wish.” It was your turn to sigh loudly. “We kept going and when I asked him to wear protection, you won’t believe it…”

“He didn’t have any?”

“Oh, he did.” She bit her lower lip, hand still covering her eyes as the images played like a broken record behind her closed lids. “After that awkward moment where he put it on, he got soft.”

“Maybe it was too tight or something, that can be an annoying bother.” You tried defending your friend, but the girl denied with her head, pursing her lips together, deciding if she should say it or not, but after all the details she already had shared, this one wouldn’t matter either.

“It was loose. It was the smallest size and it still was big for him.”

“Jesus Christ. I am deleting every photo I have with him. I can’t bear looking him in the eyes after knowing all of that.” Once again, your laugh filled the bedroom, making Tara look at you with narrowed eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Is it me?” You tilted your head to the side in confusion. “Am I the problem?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe I’m a terrible kisser and that’s why it didn’t fit.” She explained, looking at you.”Do you think I’m hot?”

“Where did that come from?” 

“The deepest part of my curious brain.” Tara sat back up, resting her hand and yours on her thigh. “Now answer me, am I hot?”

“You are hot, Tara.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure the problem wasn’t you. Maybe he was just nervous to be with you, I don’t know.”

“That does make me the problem.” Her eyes never left yours, looking for a small sign of a lie that was never found; after all, you did find Tara hot. “Why did you never kiss me?” 

You let out a deep sigh. “Because we’re friends.”

“You kiss your friends. Amber, Mindy, and I’m sure you tried to kiss my sister once too.”

“Please, don’t bring that to the table.” The pinkish tone that colored your cheeks made the other smile. “And it’s different, they’re just friends, and you’re my best friend.”

Tara moved on the bed, sitting on her calves, still looking at you, and still holding your hand. 

“Kiss me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Kiss me.”

You let out an awkward, breathy laugh, trying to pull your hand from hers and moving away just a bit, but the brunette was determined, you could see it in the dark brown eyes.

“Stop joking around, Carpenter.” You said one more time, her slender fingers tracing random patterns on your thigh with her free hand, feeling the goosebumps all over your skin, big bambi eyes staring at you. “Tara…”

“Please…” She cried out, the tip of her fingers trespassing the hem of your shorts, only a few centimeters away from your clothed cock. You could already feel it twitching inside your boxers just from those small touches. “I just wanna prove to myself that I can do it and that there’s nothing wrong with me. You, as my best friends, should help me with that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, I truthfully believe you can get someone hard.”

“Then why wasn’t he hard?”

“Maybe it was just a bad day or he was nervous, I don’t know.” You repeat what you said earlier, hoping that it was enough for the small girl. It clearly wasn't though.

“But we were having fun! He was sweet, polite, respectful, and paid for dinner and the motel, which was not cheap. It makes no sense!” She whined like a spoiled kid. Tara sat on your thighs, holding your face in her hands. “Lemme touch you. Please.”

“Can’t we just watch Stranger Things and forget about this terrible date?” You asked in hopes she would let that stupid idea go; she obviously didn’t. 

“We can, after we kiss.” Tara fixed herself on top of you, moving up. Your hands instantly grabbed her waist, before she could sit on your hips. “You know I won’t stop.”

“You’re like the donkey from Shrek.” You writhe under her.

“Please…”

“Dear Lord.” Your head fell back, hitting the soft headboard. “Why does it have to be me? And now?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” The girl shrugged. “Plus, you never let me see it.”

“I swear you have the strangest obsession with my dick.”

“I’m just curious about it.” Feeling the loosen on your grip, Tara moved slightly up, sitting right on top of it. “And I can definitely feel it.” The brunette pushed herself down, biting her lower lip. 

“Please, stop moving.” You whined, trying to hold her still, but she was determined, you could see it in her eyes. It wasn’t going to take long before your underwear became a bother. “Tara, I’m warning you.” 

“You sound so hot, you should use that tone with me more often.” Her hands grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, wrinkling it, pulling you closer until her mouth was yours. You didn’t stop her or kissed her back, but your grip on her waist grew stronger. She smiled against your lips, one of her hands sliding down your body, nails scratching your belly under your hoodie, threatening to trespass the waist of your shorts. “Can I touch you?” 

You gulped hard, staring at the brown eyes that looked soft, unlike her hands. “Are you sure you want to do this? There's no point of return.” Tara nodded fast, not giving a second thought to it, playing with the waist of your shorts. “You can touch me.”

When you gave Tara permission to touch you, you thought the girl was going to wrap her hands around your soft shaft, but all she did was kiss you, slowly and enticing, and this time you kissed her back. Your hands on her waist helped her move against your lap, grinding on you at a torturous pace. 

You wanted to turn around, change your positions so you could control whatever it was about to happen, but you allowed her to be in charge; this was all about Tara proving to herself she’s not the problem, right? So you held back the urge.

Tara’s hands moved up again, wrapping around your neck as she got closer, pushing herself down on you, moaning against your parted lips when she felt your dick pressing on her even though you weren’t hard. 

Her kiss trailed down your neck, gently nibbling on the skin there. You threw your head back, moving your hands down her ass, under the skirt of her dress to push her harder against you, increasing her hips’ speed.

“Fuck…” You let out a sharp breath, completely affected by the delicate touches coming from your best-friend, and that only made her more eager to pleasure you. 

“Do you like this?” Tara whispered in your ear, softly biting on your lobule, tracing the cartilage with her teeth. All you could do was nod. She could feel you slowly getting hard against her ass.

Licking your lips, you thrust your hip up in a strong move, making the both of you moan lowly. You could come just with that friction if she continued moaning with her mouth so close to your ear, only for you to hear it.

Tara’s hands trailed down your body once again, but this time she pushed down the elastic of the waistband of your gray shorts, in a silent request for you to remove it. She lifted herself just enough for it to slide down your legs, pooling just before your knees, the black boxer still hugging your thighs tightly. 

She didn’t want to look down, too shy to do so, but when she sat back against your bulge, it was impossible to not look at it. She pursed her lips together, the moan choked in the back of her throat as she felt you pressing hard against her. A wet spot taking form on the dark, thin cloth the more she rolled her hips on you.

It was an agonizing pain to let Tara in control of the situation. You could feel the warmth and wetness dripping for her cunt, you would easily slide in her, if she allowed you to. But you didn’t know how far she wanted to go with you, after all, this was just a test to see if she could get you hard, and she definitely could as she felt you twitching against her in desperate need to release. 

This could've stopped here and now, you were hard after all, but in a bold move, her hand slipped into your underwear, her hand holding your dick in a hard squeeze that almost made you scream against her mouth. Pulling your length out, Tara wrapped her hand around your shaft, moving it up and down in a provocative way, smiling against your parted lips. Her eyes were dark, staring at you with luxury dripping from the brownish just like she was dripping on your thighs. You could feel the hot, thick liquid oozing on your skin as she rubbed herself on you.

“Fuck, Tara.” You breathed out again, broken, lewdly. 

The brunette dipped her hand in her own underwear, eyes threatening to close as she rounded her swollen clit with two fingers, but she kept them open with a wicked expression on her face. Tara pulled her dress up, giving you the privileged view of her ruined underwear, the white fabric completely transparent. You couldn’t help yourself as your finger traced the wet stain, Tara’s mouth hanging open at the agonizing slow touch.

“Stop.” She asked in a trembled voice, shakingly holding your hand with flushed cheeks. “I don’t wanna cum like this.”

“And how do you wanna cum?” 

Letting go of your hand, she watched with focused eyes as you took two of your fingers in your mouth, sucking at the slick that coated them with a satisfied hum. Tara seriously considered saying she wanted to ride your face and fall apart on your lips, but she just, messily, removed her underwear. A thin line of arousal followed the cloth as she tossed it somewhere in your bedroom, your mouth watering at that.

Tara pulled your boxer slightly down just enough for your member to be released, proudly hitting your lower belly, before placing herself on top of your cock, the blood flowing in your veins reverberating against her clit, making both of you choke on your breath. She fitted your length in between her slick folds, almost crying at the warm feeling. 

She started grinding on you, shaking at every small move. 

“This feels so fucking good.” 

Throwing her head back, Tara supported her weight on her arms, gaining a fast pace. Your hands held the skirt of her dress up, giving you the perfect view of her shining cunt, smearing herself all over your cock. You could feel that tight knot on your stomach at that.

Moving one of your hands up and taking the dress with it, you crossed a barrier when you exposed her perfect tits, holding the stiff nipple with your thumb and index finger in a hurtful squeeze, earning yourself a crying moan that only made you throb against her center, while the other hand bruised the skin of her ass. You could see the red marks of your fingers all over her waist. 

Pulling her torso towards you, your lips wrapped around her other nipple, trembling your tongue on the hardened nub, making Tara’s hands pull on your hair, keeping you close to her chest. Her hips started to lose speed, squirming in your arms as she neared her release; you weren’t going to last much, not when she started whispering your name over and over, shakingly violently in your arms. You came right after her, shooting thick ropes of cum directly into your hoodie. 

Your arms were fast to hold her against you, keeping her body close as you came down from your high together. Tara's head fell on your shoulder, her hot breath tickling the skin of your neck, you could feel her smile. 

“You okay?” Being the first one to break the silence, you asked in a soft voice, running your hands up and down her back, feeling her heart beating like crazy; yours weren't different, smashing itself against your ribcage.

“I'm great.” She mumbled out, weak and out of breath. “Are you okay?” 

Feeling the nod of your head, she pulled away from her hiding spot. When you met her eyes, a pinkish color was filling the skin around her cheekbones, coloring the freckles that spread across her face, and unlike you were wondering inside your head, things didn't look awkward after that; Tara still had that familiar, warm look in her eyes when she leaned in to place a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips. 

“Are you proud of yourself?” 

“For making you cum without barely touching you?” Tara laughed in a proud voice, avoiding looking down as she felt your length still comfortably placed in between her slick folds.

Your hands were firm on her waist when you lifted her hips, guiding the tip of your cock against her sensitive bundle of nerves before slowly sliding in her cunt at the same time she fell back on your thighs, trying to catch her breath at the sudden invasion. A small smile on her face at the feeling of being full, her velvety walls clenching hard around your shaft, still recovering from her orgasm. 

“For the fact that I'm still pretty hard.” Pressing kisses over her jawline, you thrusted up, a surprised moan escaping her throat. “Can you feel it? How hard I am? How good I'm filling you?” 

“Yes…” She choked out, wrinkling your hoodie in her fingers, trying to find support on your shoulders when your hands forced her up, your member coated in a thin layer of her arousal before sliding her back down. “I'm very proud of myself.” The breathy confession made you smile against her neck, softly biting on her jugular before your movements gained a steady rhythm, mixing with the wet sounds and the melody tone of her voice calling out your name for every neighbor to hear.

[myheadhurtscutely]

Star Stationary - Modern!Anakin Skywalker x Reader - Chp. 1

C ` Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Summary ` It's your first day working as a receptionist at Star Stationary company, and your quickly forming relationships with your new coworkers. but one in particular has caught your eye.

!Warnings! CUTE AND FLUFFY, but be warned. Angst to come.

wc ` 3.6k

notes ! this is closely based on characters, Jim and Pam, from a tv show, The Office. f/s - favorite soda.

Ding! The elevator finally chimed, indicating your arrival at your new employer. 'Finally!' You thought to yourself, arms crowded with your personal belongings, readily available to decorate your new desk. You were the only person who applied for the boring office job as a receptionist. It was average pay, at a failing company so you figured, it would be okay just for a while. Much to your dismay, as the elevator doors slid open, it revealed the cheap cafe a couple floors below the office. A young man stood outside of the double doors. Tall, dirty blonde, glasses, and absolutely beautiful. If your arms weren't shaking earlier, they definitely were now, along with your knees.

He shyly scooted into the elevator, as if it was full, leaving about an inch or two of space between the both of you. The elevator ride was near silent. Small shuffles and the faint drumming of whatever song was blaring in his headphones was the only white noise to accompany the deafening silence. You peered over at him a couple times through your peripherals, and at some point, you swore you saw him take a glance.

The elevator was coming to a stop, the poor old thing jerked as it completed its job, causing you to stumble out of your carefully modified stance made to accommodate the weight in your arms, and drop several nicknacks and papers. How embarrassing. Thankfully, the blonde boy dropped to his knee to retrieve your items, as you profusely apologize for causing a mess. The elevator doors pry open with a screech revealing the carpeted floors and yellow tinted cream walls of the office space. He picks up one last decoration from your collection and holds it up in front of his blue eyes, inspecting with a slight smirk.

"You like Star Wars?" He cocked his eyebrow, meeting your eyes, as the both of you step out of the elevator before it closes. The office was lit with a white light, flickering ever so slightly overhead. Fake potted plants stood at entrances. Desk cluttered on top and around each nook and cranny.

"Um," You hesitate. Was it stupid to be into that kind of thing nowadays? "Yeah. It's one of my favorites." you say hurriedly. He dangles the Yoda charm a moment longer before placing it in an empty coffee mug you were holding onto for dear life with your pinky.

"Me too." He flashes a quick smile and asks if you need help, which you decline. He carries on, walking to a door near the backside of the space. You set your stuff down with a thud on your new desk. A bigger than usual semi-circle, right near the entrance, with accompanying desk to the right of it. You pull out your pens, highlighters, notepads, stickers, everything you brought to personalize your space. Taking your time, even color coding the order of your pens, you wait. What was there to do? What was your task. The phone rang. You look around in a panic, what do you say? Almost as if Heaven had sent an angel your way, the blonde guy from earlier returns with a mug in hand. A star wars logo branded the front of it. Cute.

He sees your distress and you nod towards him. He makes his way over to you, leaning over your shoulder to grab the telephone. "Hello. Thank you for calling Star Stationary Company, my name is Anakin. How can I help you today?" He said candidly. Anakin. His name repeated itself in your head, burrowing its way into your memory, as if it was meant to stay for good. He banters with the customer, one he's clearly familiar with. He grabs your purple pen from your perfectly aligned rainbow stash. You watch him scribble numbers and notes down in chicken scratch on his hand, finishing, and popping the pen in his pocket.

You took notice of this but said nothing, as you were too stunned with him grabbing onto the back of your chair as he spoke on the line.

"Mhm, alright. Yeah. Yes, thank you," His lips curl into a smile as he lets out a chuckle, "Have a great day, alright. Bye now." The phone cord relaxes as he places it back down in its spot with a click. He backs up a little to be able to make eye contact without standing directly above you. "Sorry, I figured you might need some help, you looked distressed. Not in a bad way. Not in a good way either. I'm sorry that sounds weird.." God he's cute. His nose scrunches and his feet shuffle nervously.

"No, no, you're alright," you laugh, "I needed help. I just wasn't really sure what to say you know? Thank you, a lot, though.." Small chuckles and silence followed the both of you momentarily.

"What's your name?" His curiosity overtook him. You offer your name back softly, to satisfy his curiousness. He smiles. Satisfied. "Well, as much as I like wasting company time, I have to get back to work." He lets out a small laugh to his own joke. You smile as he heads back to his desk.

You turn back to face the computer sitting in front of you. Whilst scrolling endlessly and directing calls to the correct department, you see out of the corner of your eye the desk arrangement closest to you. Lo and behold, sitting almost parallel to you, at the second closest desk, was Anakin. Something fluttered in your stomach, nerves or butterflies, you had no idea, but it was stupid anyway. This was your first day on the job, and you'll be dammed if you become one of 'those' girls. Plus, you knew absolutely nothing about him. Except for the fact that he has the most piercing blue eyes, a deeper dimple on the right side, and he has your purple pen in his pocket.

After about three hours of boring calls, and occasional glances to your left to see the blue-eyed boy 'hard at work' it was time for lunch. You got up and you swore felt his head sit up and turn on a swivel, his eyes tracing you to the break room. You've got to be delusional. A girl from the customer service department met you at a small table for five in a corner of the room. She was a talker but sweet for the most part, but her words became white noise after he walked in. His blue collared shirt was slightly ruffled, like his hair. He walked to the vending machine, catching the glance you threw him, and quickly returning it. A smirk plastered itself across his face as he looked toward the ground. His quarters made pinging noises as they hit the bottom. one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. A candy was just a dollar.

"Hey, the vending machine gave me an extra one I guess, want it?" He had walked over to you and the girl, holding out the snickers bar in your direction.

Your eyes looked him up and down subconsciously, "Yeah, thank you. They're my favorite actually." The girl who's named you learned was Kristen, smiled at you, as if to suggest something.

"Oh really?" Anakin noted.

"Yeah, funny coincidence huh?"

"How so?"

"Cause you got my favorite candy?"

"Lucky guess?" He shrugged his shoulders, already walking out the door.

"Wait... but you said-" His words registered in your head. He was getting it for himself? What did he mean 'lucky guess?' Best not to read into it. He was already out the door anyway.

"So... You and Anakin hm?" Kristen remarked.

"What? OH! God no. No, he's just a friendly guy. Just friends." You took a sip of your water to prevent yourself from word vomiting, looking off to the side.

"Mhm... well anyway, keep me posted" She winks as she gets up from the plastic chair, sliding it back underneath the table to walk away.

You sat there for a moment. Was there something? Were you not crazy?

───── ��⋅☆⋅⋆─────

After your lunch break, you found yourself back at your desk, answering calls, faxing documents, boring office activities. With your back turned, and facing the copy machine nearby, you felt a small sensation on your back. You ignored it, chopping it up to just a cold breeze, but it happened again. You turn around to face whatever it could be, and you see Anakin quickly put his hands down at his desk, dropping a small roll of wadded paper, like a kid who got caught eating candy. You continue to stare at him, waiting to meet his eyes. He looks up from his desk finally and meets your gaze. you smile. His hand quickly slaps over his own laugh, stifling it from sound and view. You lift of your hands with the copies in the and shrug at him. "What?" you mouth silently, smiling.

He just shook his head in response, throwing his smile back down to the desk.

You just shrug it off and carry your papers back to your desk. The phone chimes, you pick it up quickly and repeat what you were taught earlier today, "Hello! Thank you for calling Star Stationary Company, my name is y/n! How can I help you today?" You said in a much more enthusiastic tone than Anakin's. You continue to banter and chat with the costumer, as they ask about deals and prices, but soon your focus is derailed, as a little piece of paper hits the side of your head and falls slowly on to your desk. You pause a second, then whip your head to the culprit's direction. He just sassily waves slightly and smiles.

You finish the call and ponder for a moment. You open the email tab on the old desktop computer and type in Anakin, clicking on his email address. You type, biting your lip in thought. 'Are you having fun with your balls?' Was it too far? Nah. He seemed like he enjoyed joking around. You wait a moment and look over to him. His glasses reflected your message as his nose pushed them up by scrunching due to his smile.

'Ping! Your own screen lights up with a blue notification. Unread email from Anakin Skywalker. What did this little blue-eyed prick have to say? 'What can I say, love me some balls. Wby?' No way he just fucking asked that. You look over at him, mouth agape as a breathless laugh escapes. He just grins in response and shrugs. You look back at the screen, then to your keyboard, and back to your screen.

'Mr. Skywalker, I keep my ball preferences to myself. thank you very much.' Did that sound to serious? hopefully not. You keep an eye out for him, waiting on him to see the message.

'Ping!' You've got to find out how to turn that stupid noise off. Oh well. You can do that later, as you had an email to read from a handsome blonde man a couple feet over. 'I'm so sorry ma'am, how stupid of me to bring up such an intimate question so soon, I barley even know your name.' You watched his stupid little grin as he typed that whole thing out, as you were reading it. A sudden presence by your desk startles you as you turn to face it. Anakin stood in front of you, arms crossed and leaning onto your semi-circle counter in front of you.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you, I just wanted to come over here to discuss your ball preferences privately." You snort at his joke as he leans his head down and lets out a small breathy laugh before rising back up. "I don't get what's so funny ma'am, I'm just trying to get to know a co-worker?" He laughed in between words, as your laugh fueled his own.

"I've told you; my preferences are reserved to friends only!" The both of you whisper chat among the ringing of phones, chatter of people, and rustling of paper around the office.

"Well then, we'll start off small. Favorite color?"

You hesitate. Anakin makes a buzzer noise and taps the counter. "Ooo times up, gotta be faster Snickers."

"What'd you just call me?" You pause and cock your head to the side.

"Oh, I'm sorry, not a fan of nicknames? I just though cause it's your favorite candy-"

"No, no, no! It's fine! It's cute, I just um- I was confused." You trip all over your words, voice cracking as you stare into his baby blue eyes hidden behind his frames. "Continue!"

"huh? Oh! yeah, okay... favorite soda?"

"Oh come on these are elementary Anakin... f/s! For sure. Final answer!"

"I thought you were better than that." Anakin shakes his head in mocking disapproval. You laugh questioning what his defiance was for. "Thats like the worst one-" The phone at his desk rings. He waves his hand at you in an apologetic manner and makes his way back over to his desk. You sat there for a while after, bored and sad your banter had ended. He was funny. Dorky, and sassy but funny. While you waited for your phone to ring or email to do its annoying pinging noise, you doodled. It's just silly little dogs here and there or like an eyeball or flower, but occasionally you produce a nice sketch. Not like a frame worthy thing, but accurate ones of people, things, places, etc.

Your lined notepad laid out on your desk, littered with sketches of the fake flowers and side profiles of your co-workers as they worked. Nothing too big. Suddenly, a small thud makes rings in your ears, and you look up to see the source in front of you. It was Anakin of course. He placed your favorite soda right in front of you. A small blush spread across your face and body. He was a friendly guy. You kept having to remind yourself of that. "Okay. Now that we're friends, do you like 'em small?"

You pause and stare at him for a second before allowing yourself to chuckle at his poor joke. "Anakin!" You gasp smacking his hand off of your desk.

He laughs and drags his hands up in the air in defeat, backing away slightly. "Cmon! I bought you a soda Y/n!"

"That doesn't mean were 'ball preference' kind of friends. Not yet." you turn to the side and stack your papers neatly as you speak.

Anakin dramatically puts his head on your desk and pounds his fist lightly beside him. "What must a man do!"

"Oh quit your crying... don't you have a job to be doing?" You pause and turn to him questioningly.

"Oh like what? Entertain my receptionist?" For some reason, his use of possessive pronouns sent waves over your body.

"Anakin..." Your voice remained unwavering, hiding the effect his words had on you.

"Alright alright. By the way," He pauses before making his way back to his desk, "my favorite soda is Crush if you ever feel like being nice. Hint hint, wink wink" Did he just 'Hint hint, wink wink' you? Outloud? He was so fucking stupid. You loved it though. Itmade the day more enjoyable and go by faster.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─────

You've worked there for about two weeks now, both you and Anakin have gotten closer, always sitting together at company things. Choosing each other as partners when HR does 'informational' games. It was subtle but people noticed. Kristen became one of your friends in the office, she could be snippy, but you don't blame her, she worked in customer service. She would make silly comments about the both of you. Sometimes you fed into it, and other times, completely shut it down. (You enjoyed it either way.)

Today was a big night for the office. It was the Halloween Party. You had no idea what you'd be going as, as it had to be appropriate and recognizable. Kristen was already doing a matching couples costumes with the whole customer service department, so that left her out. You had asked Anakin to match with you earlier yesterday, and he agreed thank god, yet tonight, you were sitting alone in a chair outside the conference room where all the food and music was. Since it was so last minute, your costumes were basic. You sat slumped down with your cat ears on your head, with a little painted nose on with black paint and whiskers. Your black turtleneck was bringing you the slightest bit of comfort. Anakin hadn't come yet, and the party ended soon. You had felt disappointed but felt a kind of sense of regret. You guys weren't close. He didn't have an obligation to be here, and it was pathetic of you to pout in the corner, waiting on blonde man to show up in his mouse outfit, that you had barley known for half a month.

Streamers were starting to droop from the ceiling as you look up from your crossed arms. The sound of the front door opening didn't faze you anymore. You quit looking up in hopes it was him, after about the twelfth time. Soon though, to your surprise, standing in front of you was a dripping wet Anakin with coat in hand. "I'm so sorry, I was sprinting all around town looking for face paint for the nose. T-then it rained," He was clearly out of breath, "and I lost track of time." You shook your head at him after a moment. "I'm so sorry I really am..."

You stand up, and pat his arm, rubbing it comfortingly. "Anakin, it's no big deal. I'm not gonna lie I was a little upset but you could've just texted me?" You hold up your phone. "We have face paint here."

Anakin takes a deep sigh, burying his face in his hands, dragging them down slowly. "Are you serious. No way I was that stupid."

"I don't expect anything less Mr. Skywalker." You shrug your shoulders playfully.

"You could at least try to be nice Snickers. I know it's not your strong suit." He quips.

You stare at him for a moment, crossing your arms. "Want your face painted or not?"

Anakin sticks his finger up, signaling you to hang on as he rummages through his wet bag. He pulls out a cheap pair of pink and grey ears, you can tell were hot glued last night. "Ready!" He holds them up near his face and smiles.

There were only a couple people left, excluding you and Anakin, since the party ended in 25 minutes, but you'd be dammed if you weren't gonna make the most of it. You had him sit in your rolley office chair at your desk, with all the paints splayed out on it. You lean in to dab some more pink on his nose. Each time you'd go in to put it on, both of you would start laughing. You didn't know if it was nervousness or what, but you were a giggling, sweating mess.

"Y'know I'm never gonna be able to finish if you don't stop laughing at me." You pull your hands back away from his face and he looks downward trying to contain his laughter.

"Sorry, sorry, work your magic," He straightens up and makes a more serious face, closing his eyes. "Cmon." He beckons you. You move closer, pulling out the black face paint crayon, slowly tracing whiskers onto his face. Did mice have whiskers? You had no idea; all you could focus on was how lucky you were that his eyes were closed because now, he couldn't see how flushed you were. His skin was soft, his eyelashes long and fan like, but god his cheeks. They were so perfect; a rose shade dusted his pale points. Almost as if they were mocking your own blush.

Anakin slowly opened his eyes, and for a moment it was like the whole world stood still. The both of you just looked into each others eyes for a moment, both admiring faces and features. If the saying 'eyes are the window to the soul' was true, he had left his unlocked for you. More was said in that few seconds glance, than you had ever heard in your entire life.

'HONKKKKKKKKKKKK'

What the fuck was that? You jump startled by the noise. Anakin puts a friendly hand on your wrist to calm you back down. "Sorry, that's probably my ride." You said nothing, still processing whatever 'moment' the both of you just shared. "Um, see you next week." Anakin waved and headed towards the door.

"Wait! I- um, I'm heading out to my car anyway, can I walk you out?" Your hands fiddled anxiously.

"Well, I don't see why not?" He grins at you, motioning for you to join him.

The elevator ride was quiet again. The pattering rain made a melody with the soft shuffling of feet. You watched Anakin from the reflection of the metal walls of the elevator. His image was blurred but nonetheless, you could still see his presence, and that was enough.

'Ding!'

The two of you stepped out of the elevator and out of the lobby's glass doors. Rain began to smear the both of yours face paint. "See you next week Snickers." Anakin nodded to you and headed to a black sedan parked Infront of the building. You waved to him solemnly as he opened the passenger side door. You saw a glance of the driver.

Your heart stopped beating.

A beautiful brunette girl sat in the driver's seat. Her curled hair laid tossed on her elegant shoulders. Her lips were pink and plump, and her eyes were nothing short of model worthy. Anakin leaned over and planted a kiss to her temple.

fuck.

You stood in the rain watching them take off onto the empty street.

Notes ` Im sorry this took so long to get out, and I apologize if it's not up to code. But im genuinely having so much fun writing this and I really appreciate all of the support! FOUR MORE CHPATERS TO GO WOOOO! I hope you liked it :)

tags ` @darthgloris , @queenie-official , @bby-imasociopath , @mxltifxnd0m , @jayrami3 , @robertsmithclone , @brainscabs

[barelysanereviews]

Me At The Movies 2023

I'm not sure, but I think the first movie I ever saw in theaters was a Judy Ann Santos x Wowee De Guzman movie because my grandmother, who raised me while my parents were busy at work, was a big Juday stan. She took me to see Filipino films, then Disney films, then the Harry Potter films. These were the three main genres of my childhood and I have strong core memories of them all, at least one frame from each movie that's forever in the powerpoint presentation of my life.

Like a lot of people, it took me a while to get back into watching movies at theaters post-pandemic. Especially now that I'm old and grown and movie theaters are increasingly more expensive, I consider watching movies more of a luxury rather than a hobby. And now that it's nearing December and the weather is ripe for introspection and reflection, I think one thing that brought me a lot of joy this year were the movie-going experiences I had. Each one was delightful, enjoyable, and made vastly better by being at the theater as opposed to just watching on my laptop at home.

So while I have time, this is my little ode to the movies of 2023.

Elemental

I watched this with my coworkers at Uptown Mall in BGC. It was our first hangout outside of work, and it really solidified the relationships we had coming from a workforce of like, six people. (Since then, we have grown to ten people! + three staff!) As for the movie, I honestly didn't think it was Disney's strongest, but I loved the animation, the concept, and the Lauv song. If I was the only one watching it, I would've gone away thinking that the metaphor for the immigrant experience felt a little too simplified, and the central love story was mostly okay but not that necessary to drive the point home. But as I watched it with a coworker who bawled her eyes out, I ended up thinking about what made the movie and the experience meaningful and relatable, and ended up thinking that its simplicity was one of the film's strengths.

Barbie

I absolutely loved this experience. It was another movie I watched at Uptown Mall this time with my sister and Colleen. I don't have to tell you about my thoughts on the movie because it has been analyzed to death, but I will say that I greatly enjoyed it. Margot Robbie was perfect, beautiful, and delightfully nuanced while playing a doll and, Ryan Gosling was hilariously hammy. There's always something deeply touching about inanimate objects experiencing life for the first time. I felt so happy and blessed to be human, and to be part of this large scale phenomenon where everyone dressed up in pink to watch a movie about a doll. We were the first in line for our showing, and I will forever remember seeing everyone come out of the previous showing in their Barbie best - kids in their jackets and pink sneakers, adults in outfits that ran the gamut from adorable to kitsch to sexy to avant-garde. Man, it just made me so happy.

Aftersun

I love watching movies alone, and when I saw that a series of global indie movies were being shown at Greenbelt for cheap, I couldn't say no. Lately, I've begun to spend more intentional time with myself, and it's been fantastic. Aftersun isn't the happiest movie, but unlike the others where I was glad to have someone share the joy and delight with, I was glad to be able to sit with its deep cuts into my memory on my own. Watching it alone gave me so much space to deal with the feelings it brought up and I got to take the time to bask in that unforgettable feeling after a good movie where the world feels like its full of new meaning.

Past Lives

Probably my favorite movie of the year? I think a lot of people found it a little lacking and were craving for a bit more closure at the end, but I found its restraint really resonated with me. Despite not being Korean, Canadian, or American, I feel like I have a lot of personal connections to this movie, to the point that the dialogue between Nora and Haesung feels like something I might have dreamed up myself. I watched this movie at Central Square with my sister, who I spend maybe 85% of my life with and is one of the only people I will talk to about such big feelings.

My Shinee World

My most recent theater experience is one I had with Colleen at SM Megamall. I don't really consider myself a Shawol, but Shinee has always had a place in my heart. I've known about them even before I got into kpop and a lot of their music has just been around in kdramas and music videos on TV as I grew up. And even after my kpop conversion, I found that I just really like their music, old and new, and they're just generally a really solid, talented group. I really loved how this documentary/concert movie was structured, with the members talking about their journey in between stages, which themselves were stage mixes of their performances from their concerts. There was also the framing device of the members being in a Shawol's room, which evolved as the fan grew with the group, the merch, albums, and posters on her walls and shelves changing in step as the group released more music. I loved that level of immersion that made even me, a casual fan, really feel like I was part of their journey. There's always that layer of distance when you're participating in events of groups that aren't your ults, but there was something about this movie that felt inclusive and even cozy, like you were looking through a photo album with your friends. And I'll never forget how absolutely everyone in the theater wept when the group sang Our Page, as we all celebrated and mourned the life of a shining star.

Written by Shaniqua

[supersleepyboys]

a pile of thoughts

yesterday was the last day of our first full week at the library, and we are so tired, but it is such a good tired. there have been so many questions and answers both given to us by our experiences this week and it’s kind of amazing to be living this way. we left the house four days this week, which is the first time we’ve done that in 5 months at least. we walked around downtown near the library, had food locally, went to a small card shop and comic shop, and just generally existed in the world. it was delightful.

it’s coming to our attention that we really did hate our last job. deeply. we were so detached from the end product, separated from any form of community both by virtue of being a production worker, and our coworkers and boss isolating us. we gained a few friends at the end but ultimately it didn’t satisfy us to be working in such an isolated position, producing mountains of waste and being berated for our disability and forced to extend ourselves and destroy our body. while i am still furious about the position my boss put me in, im glad we quit. we wouldn’t have otherwise.

we probably would’ve died there, instead of working in a beautiful library with big windows that cover every wall, touching books full of stories both on the page and on the punch card, seeing little kids with their parents come to read and sing and dance and play. i would’ve never gotten to walk the streets of our hometown like this, seeing all the local businesses that have popped up, i never would’ve gotten to say over and over “hi! i’m ash!”, getting to say my name to the world. i never would’ve gotten to do this. i’m so glad i quit.

yesterday was batman day. we went to the card store first, they have bulk basic pokémon cards for ridiculously cheap and we wanted some to deco. my boss was there playing dnd! the library director! what are the odds!!! it’s wild to me to be in such a space where my boss not only asked me my pronouns and uses them to all other people, but is deeply invested in their work and respects their employees. i went to the comic shop after and met the employees who were delightful and gave me comic book recs. it’s amazing seeing guys in their 50s and beyond light up like kids when they tell me about their favorite comics. i hope they never ever lose it. they’re going to order the last few issues of riddler year one i need, and i am so delighted, i was so worried we missed them and ed was heartbroken. they’re my new comic shop, new or old issues, they’ve got it all and i’m so happy that it’s within walking distance, just a 15 minute round total walk from the library.

i realized that i have missed being among people and having community. that was physically impossible from behind the production room walls of an embroidery shop, and doubly stopped by the disabilities i face. being in a safe space that broadens those horizons is amazing. there’s a club next weekend i plan on attending, and i’m very excited about it and the prospect of friends. i might even sign up for the magic tournaments or dnd tables at the card store. who knows.

i am so happy we didn’t die. we are all so fucking happy. it is good to be us and it is good to be out in the world and making friends and seeing friendly faces. the world is beautiful even if it’s not all the time.

[ehauspk]

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[kranthi5432]

It’s a Beautiful coworking space

This is the event dias in the beautiful coworking space in Hyderabad by iKeva. You can know more at https://ikeva.com/coworking-space/hyderabad/

[of-10]

Discover the epitome of coworking excellence in Powai, Mumbai, with OF10. Boasting modern amenities, a vibrant community, and flexible membership options, OF10 is the premier destination for professionals seeking a dynamic workspace. Join us to unlock unparalleled opportunities for collaboration, growth, and success. Experience coworking redefined at OF10.

[libermachinae]

Night Shift

Also on AO3! Summary: Prowl and Jetfire analyze leads on a Decepticon smuggling operation, working together late into the night trying to find the missing connections. A sleep deprived slip of the tongue leads Prowl to revisiting old choices. Word Count: 2146

---

Prowl didn’t keep track of his chronometer this late in the night. Morning was inevitable, and he knew he could rely on a burst of messages from Orion to let him know when it had arrived. As such, he had no idea what hour it was when Jetfire broke through the productive silence.

“How did you come up with these predictions?” Jetfire asked. Worst of all, he was speaking with his mouth full, apparently too incensed by Prowl’s logic train to be bothered with common decency. “Every gun you’ve pulled in has been running on fumes; I’ve had to scrape the insides of the barrels just to figure out what they’re fueled on.”

The impressive thing about Jetfire was that even as a voice over the comms, he sounded like the biggest bot in the room. It wasn’t just that his voice was deep; Orion, who wasn’t that much taller than Prowl, had a voice you could feel through the floor panels. It was something about the way Jetfire talked, deliberate and straightforward, rarely stuttering even when caught off-guard. It was refreshing.

“I’ve outlined the logic process in my report. I won’t be repeating it,” Prowl said, scrolling back through his files.

“What are they teaching in the enforcer academy that reports don’t need to communicate anything?” Jetfire grumbled

It would be a reasonable estimate to say they spent 50% of these near nightly calls complaining about their targets, their coworkers, and the administration, and another 40% about each other. Prowl sat through them strictly as a matter of convenience, being a faster mode of communication than the intermittent data bursts preferred by the sanctioned enforcer agencies.

Having someone at the other end of the line also assisted the rust sticks and nucleon microcubes in staving off recharge protocols.

“It’s as I explained to Tumbler: it communicates everything I intended it to.” Ideally, very little to anyone who couldn’t have worked it out themselves. That way, the important information stayed with those who could actually use it, and the rest—

“Who’s Tumbler?”

Prowl lost his train of thought as the rest of his processor caught up to what the .5% he reserved for conversation had said. He froze, rust stick halfway to his mouth.

“No one,” he said.

“Okay.” Jetfire drew out the word. “Did he buy that line?”

No, of course not. Tumbler was always relentless about that sort of thing. His curiosity and drive could have lent to the makings of a detective or captain if he’d dedicated them more often to investigations and less on critiquing Prowl.

“He was young and failed to grasp the necessity of efficiency in our line of work.” Prowl had tried to be patient, but he’d been young too, and Tumbler was the first partner he’d had who would listen to him. Even if it was just to argue that Prowl’s opaque writing was the cause of their inefficiency.

“Hmph.”

Jetfire liked to intersperse their conversations with meaningless noises, and although Prowl needed more samples before he was certain of his explanation, he believed they meant Jetfire didn’t agree with something he’d said but was ending the discussion prematurely. It was illogical, leaving a matter unsettled for which a solution existed, but normally Prowl’s priority queues were ordered such that work came before ideological disagreements.

“What?” he asked, finally setting down the rust stick.

“You’re normally terrible with names,” Jetfire said without hesitation. “I’m just trying to imagine what a bot would have to be like to leave that much of an impression on you.”

“He was talented,” Prowl admitted.

“Do you keep in touch?”

“No.” Prowl straightened his back and flared his sensory panels, ready to move on. “It was not a practical partnership. Being together diminished our respective abilities and prevented us from fulfilling our responsibilities. It was for the betterment—”

“Hey, hold on, Prowl,” Jetfire said, his rolling voice enough to draw Prowl up short. “I know that you—but, you know what that sounds like, right?”

Prowl frowned, immediately recognizing Jetfire’s social theory tone.

“Pragmatism,” he said. “We can’t have everything we want in an ordered society. I—we did what Cybertron needed of us.”

“By disposing of a part of yourself?”

Tumbler hadn’t liked that explanation either.

“We weren’t conjunx.” And for very good reason. There were more important things in life than feelings or fleeting commitments, and it was idealists like Jetfire who—

“Just because it didn’t have a name doesn’t mean it wasn’t important.”

Prowl’s thoughts stumbled. He hadn’t expected Jetfire to say that, not because it was out of character but because he was right. That was the exact sentiment Prowl had tried to put to words maybe half a dozen times and now it was being turned on him like a spotlight.

“There are things that should never be sacrificed,” Jetfire went on. Prowl felt his silhouette thrown into sharp relief. “Things we’re worse off for letting go of.” He paused. “A while ago, I was made an offer: instant entry to the academies. No exams, no fees. Everything I’d ever wanted. In return, though, I would’ve had to give up my wings. My… sponsor, I guess, knew I had the processor for science, just not the frame. They asked for me to give up one part of myself to let the rest go free.”

Prowl shook his helm, leaning away from the speaker. Jetfire’s tone was the same one he occasionally used with Bumblebee. With Prowl, he was hard edges and warning lights. They weren’t this for each other. They didn’t do this.

“You were nearly the victim of a scam,” he said, searching blindly for familiar ground.

“I’m sure it seems that way,” Jetfire said, unperturbed. “Do you get it, though? Giving up any one piece would’ve meant tacit agreement with the Functionists, that I wasn’t fit to do my work in any form but what they prescribed. Even if I’d told myself it was for Cybertron, it really would’ve been a sacrifice in their honor, and nothing would ever be worth that.”

Prowl wasn’t entirely obtuse. He understood what Jetfire was saying, but he couldn’t afford to hear it, not with everything he had already done and the plans he had yet to set in motion. Maybe Jetfire had found a way to live that allowed him to maintain his idealistic commitments, but most mechanisms weren’t so lucky. Everyone had to give up something.

“And now you’re here, working on behalf of the Senate,” Prowl said, just to prove that point.

Jetfire made his noise again.

“Right, I forgot,” he said. Annoyed or frustrated: the usual feelings they brought out in each other. “Waste of time. Forget I said anything.”

Prowl wouldn’t, but he also wasn’t going to give Jetfire an excuse to keep pontificating.

It would have been a waste of their time, anyhow, because however sincere Jetfire was in his admission, Prowl had never understood the hypocrisy of bots who would claim to reject Functionism while maintaining an almost fanatical devotion to their frames. In some intangible sense, maybe he did enjoy the opportunity to go for a long drive, but he couldn’t imagine himself grieving his tires for their own sake. He tried to compare it to what he had felt when Tumbler had said going to Kaon was a selfish, pretentious idea and immediately recoiled.

“Results are exactly what I told you,” Jetfire said. Prowl realized he hadn’t gotten any work done in the last several kliks. “Not nearly the concentration of materials to support your theory the Decepticons have contacts in Uraya, and a few that will probably trace back to Kaon, like everything else.”

“I’d like to see for myself,” Prowl said, standing. He didn’t often get this badly distracted, and it was easy to pin it on the state of his desk: used energon cubes and wrappers from the cheap snacks he kept fueled on littered the spaces he should have been using for case notes and displays. When was the last time he’d cleaned?

“Really?” Jetfire asked. “The data’s pretty clear.”

“Humor me.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing?”

Neither said goodbye before they hung up: another of their customs.

Prowl cleared the mess into the trash. Exhaustion was nibbling at his processor like a corrosive. Another couple shots would get him through his morning meetings, and then a regular midday fueling would carry him over until he could recharge properly in the evening. Before that, though, the day had to begin, an event he discovered was closer than he’d expected when he stepped outside and saw the horizon just tilting toward the pale blue of an oncoming dawn.

The air was gentle, the pleasant cool that foreshadowed a blistering day. Jetfire was a dot over the Rodion skyline. Prowl glanced up at the few stars that could punch through the light pollution and was reminded, suddenly, of the time he and Tumbler had discussed getting a little patch of metal out on the Tungsten Moors. The barren sparkfields had felt nonetheless fertile with possibilities, and they had gotten hung up on whether it would be more practical to live in a house with two stories or just one. It had been a fantasy, nothing more; even on their joint income, it would have taken millions of years to save up. But there had been something, if not fulfilling, thrilling about it, making plans that didn’t hinge on work or promotions.

He wondered if Tumbler remembered that conversation.

Jetfire’s slow approach gave Prowl time to dwell while keeping an idle optic on his teammate. There was nothing spectacular about Jetfire’s flying: Prowl had worked with and chased down fliers who were faster, more maneuverable, and flashier in every way. But there was something resolute and sure about the way Jetfire coasted, a steadiness that Prowl would have appreciated sooner if he’d noticed it, his thoughts of Tumbler and past mistakes and pointless sacrifice sliding away as he watched Jetfire’s flight.

Jetfire’s flying was beautiful, in its own way. Its understatement reminded Prowl of his own assembly line colors, but with an underlying confidence that left Prowl feeling inadequate. Though technically strong, his power was limited to what he could siphon off Orion and their other high-level contacts. He’d experienced a taste of the real thing under Sentinel, but that had been an especially tenuous connection, liable to snap had he ever tugged too hard. Jetfire’s power was all his own. Not overwhelming, not enough to make the changes Cybertron needed. Incomparable, really, to what Prowl had wielded. But it radiated from the tips of his wings to the burn of his thrusters, self-realized, without reservation or concession.

Prowl’s tac net pinged him with the results for a problem he hadn’t realized he’d plugged in: 50% Prowl should have been strong enough to find another way, 50% choosing Tumbler would have made him stronger.

A perfect 50-50 meant his systems were badly in need of defrag. He cleared the cache and set his tac net to reboot, shaking his helm to dispel the resulting vertigo as Jetfire landed on the steps below him. Prowl waited patiently for him to complete his mode switch, taking two steps back so they would be at optic level with each other.

“Pleasant flight?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t trade it for anything,” Jetfire said with a smugness that allowed Prowl to scoff as he motioned for the datapad.

Jetfire handed it over. Prowl knew he was being watched as he powered it on and reviewed its contents, but he took his time, using Jetfire’s results to run through a few warm up calculations as his tac net came back online.

“You didn’t check for copper fluoride,” he commented.

“No,” Jetfire said slowly, “because it wasn’t one of the compounds we were investigating.”

“Run the tests again.” Prowl tried to return the datapad, but Jetfire refused to take it. “The chances we would find evidence of materials native to the Urayan region were always slim to none. However, the old blackmarket pipeline between Kaon and Yuss ran directly underneath the city. Does that make more sense?”

Prowl saw the moment Jetfire finally saw the case as he did, a knotted web of deceptions meant to dissuade even the most seasoned detective from untangling its core. Jetfire took the datapad from Prowl and stowed it, though the hard look in his optics did not waver.

“Could’ve said that from the beginning,” Jetfire griped.

Prowl didn’t bother to respond. What was done was done. Talking so much about the past was a waste of time neither of them could afford, because for all that it might have mattered, nothing they said could change any of it. All they had was the future, and the possibility of starting each day stronger than they had the one before.

[thran-duils]

From All Sides (P.1)

Title: From All Sides (Part One) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Pirate Tony. Tony is obsessed with a certain barmaid at port and showers her with gifts to try to bring her to his bed. She is resistant to his advances, her eyes elsewhere, specifically on her coworker, the cook. Although, that love is unrequited and always will be. The reader is forced into close quarters with Tony unexpectedly and sailing the sea, she slowly bends to his will. And he plans to give her all the affection he can to make sure she stays. Words: 2,279 Warnings: Eventual smut, violence, angst, possessive behavior Author’s Note: Song inspiration

Part Two || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

It was loud tonight. As fall neared, it always brought more to port. Many were tired from long summer excursions and were looking for reprieve. At least it was nightfall now and the heat was melting away to the breeze of the ocean.

You were walking up the street back towards the tavern where you were expected back. Your boss Evan had sent you down to fetch the breads the baker was going to throw out to make sure there was enough for the crowd when they were ordering their meals.

“Miss Y/N!” A voice called out and you sighed, stopping. You turned, keeping the basket close you were carrying, smiling.

Adam was coming through the crowd, looking ecstatic to see you. He was carrying a bouquet of flowers and you felt your stomach clench. He was quite smitten and so very sweet; you were just not sure if you should commit to him. You had not found the way to get him to understand that yet, that you wanted some space, even with your polite declines to his dinners.

“Hot night,” he commented when he reached you. His smile was warm, his eyes alight at the sight of you.

“It is,” you agreed, matching his energy as best you could.

He held out the bouquet and said “I got these for you. I was hoping you would be at work though so I could ask to have dinner on your break?”

“I’m already on my break,” you lied easily. “Going back to work right now.”

His face fell. “Oh.” He recovered quickly, “Well, I will accompany you back?” He held out his arm.

Against your better judgment, you took it, allowing him to guide you. He was cordial, making small talk as usual. How someone as pure as him stayed at port was beyond you. But he had somehow found Peter too, just as kindhearted as him. The two of them made a pair. Although, Peter had been making an unsavory choice in alliance the last time Tony was at port... you had scolded Tony for a good ten minutes about how he should leave Peter be safe here at port and not on his dangerous voyages. If you were not mistaken, you had seen Tony jealous you cared so much for the boy.

The tavern you worked and lived at was packed. You weaved your way through the crowd, dodging people on instinct as they stumbled, Adam following your lead. You had worked here long enough to know the twists and turns of a drunken crowd.

Adam was close by as you moved behind the bar and he stayed by the entrance to the bar, waiting patiently. You left him knowing he would still wait, walking to the back, and handed over the basket to the cook, Eloise. She nodded in thankfulness.

You loved her smile, the way her lips formed. They were soft and you wanted to press your own to them.

“So many orders tonight,” she stated. “Tilda is doing well to keep them on the main course but there are others requesting other things.”

“Are we charging more for that?”

“You know it,” she winked. Your stomach fluttered at the gesture. “You better get back out there. Tilda is getting swamped! And poor Elizabeth is getting handled by a few tables. She needs to be more assertive, that girl.”

“I need to deal with Adam first,” you muttered.

“He’s back?” Eloise laughed, a twinkle in her eye. “My, he’s almost as persistent as Tony!”

“No one is as persistent as Tony.”

“He’s here, so you know. He ordered his usual dinner. One of the ones going off my menu!”

You almost groaned. You did not want to deal with his pawing on top of Adam’s doe eyes. Tony was easily provoked in his jealousness when it came to you, even though you had never let him between your legs, despite his best attempts to pursue you.

As you feared when you emerged from the back, Tony was hammering you to the spot with a piercing stare from the back of the tavern in a booth with some of his crew. He flicked his eyes to Adam before landing on you again you made note.

You had always brushed off his advances. Skirting around his smooth words and adjusting just out of the way where his lips were going to fall. Sometimes so close you could feel the brush of his lips against your jawline. He was a charmer.

Normally.

Tonight, he looked like a hangman, the way he was glowering at Adam. He already had a pint empty on the table and another by his bowl to replace it.

You liked Tony well enough — he was handsome, devilishly so — but it was Eloise you hung your heart on. Even if you knew she was never going to reciprocate the feelings. It was a terrible feeling to know that and still be invested. You wished you could turn your feelings to Tony even if you thought him fleeting.

Tony was known for being promiscuous and you thought he meant to get you in bed once and then be done with it. Despite all the gifts he brought you, trying to woo you, you could not help but to think he would easily discard you. Still... on the other hand, his persistence reminded you of Adam. He did not just bring you flowers either. He brought gems, jewelry, even a gown once. And not a cheap one at that. He was persistent in his chase and did not skimp on his treasures.

His last gift you wore now. It was beautiful. A seashell that seemed to glow in the light. It was on a simple cord but it was magnificent in its own right. And it settled perfectly on your chest. When he had given you it when he was here a month ago, he had been more than willing to be the one to clasp it around your neck. His fingers had flittered along your shoulder blades but he had pulled away at the last moment before you thought he was going to brush lower. He was persistent but he was also mindful to not push too hard; he did not want to lose you.

Sometimes you thought just the mere sight of you was enough to satiate him.

You pretended you did not notice Tony’s icy glare though, your eyes on Adam who was looking at you adoringly. You took the flowers from Adam and said, “I’ll put them in a vase in my room.” You took a long breath; he had actually remembered your favorites.

“I’ll bring more next week so you always have a fresh bouquet to look at,” Adam vowed.

“Oh, Adam. That’s not necessary,” you told him.

“It is for you,” he stated.

Tilda interrupted, coming in between the two of you facing you. “Hello, Y/N! Earth to you! I need help! The men are getting a little out of hand! You’re far more competent than Elizabeth!”

That poor girl. She still struggled with brushing off handsy men as she collected dishes.

You smiled at Adam over Tilda’s shoulder and said, “Sit at the bar. I’ll bring you a bowl of Eloise’s stew as soon as I can.”

He beamed at the offer as you turned around to put the flowers in a safe spot behind the bar until you could bring them upstairs.

<><><>

You had asked Tilda to take the booths, making sure to stay away from Tony’s booth although you had caught his eyes multiple times. He was not in good spirits, and you knew why. His gaze was layered with envy. Why did he have to come on the same night Adam decided he needed to try to court you? Adam had not left the bar stool yet and unlike Tony, his nose was not buried deep in a fourth pint, so he had a lot of life left in him. He was happy just to be in your presence.

Peter had joined him and was finishing his first pint. Great. You needed to keep an eye on him now to make sure he did not interact with any captain — especially Tony.

Much to your dismay though, his first mate made the plunge when you were away from the counter.

Steve had his arm around Peter’s shoulder, grinning friendly. Disgruntled, you quickly cleared plates, taking orders for more ale before coming back to the bar.

Steve met your gaze, grinning wickedly.

“Do you need to order something? Tilda was just at your table,” you said stiffly.

Steve shook his head. “No, no. Just following up with dear Peter here. He showed interest in sailing last time we were at port and he says he’s a fine cook. Ours could use an apprentice.”

“You can find an apprentice anywhere,” you snapped.

“Now, Peter, does she speak for you?” Steve asked, turning his attention to Peter.

Peter shot you a look and you saw him hesitating. It was an unfair position that Steve was putting him in. Peter respected you but he also knew the repercussions of if he let a woman make his decisions, especially in this crowd. And especially to a man who may be a ticket to his dream off this island.

Peter sucked his cheeks before saying, “You know, the room is actually spinning. Adam? Could you.... I think I need to go home?”

Adam read the signals quick and nodded, “Yes. Yeah, of course. I shouldn’t have let you have that second pint so quickly. Especially since you refused the delicious food from Eloise.”

The two of them stood quickly from their stools, Peter making quick to stumble a little before grabbing the bar to steady himself. He smiled at Steve and said, “Excuse me.”

Steve stared at him for a few seconds intently — he looked so disbelieving of Peter’s antics — before he smiled, “Of course. Go right ahead.”

He stepped out of the way and Peter met Adam before they made their way through the crowd. Adam threw a look over his shoulder at you and you gave a quick tight-lipped smile before turning your attention back to Steve who was watching you like a wolf.

“My my, you’ve just got your little claws in everyone’s hearts, don’t you?” He jeered.

“Do you need something?” you repeated, standing your ground. “I have tables to attend.”

“Two shots of rum,” Steve said, leaning on the counter.

You turned from him and grabbed the bottle and finding two glasses. You placed them on the counter in front of him and poured them out, his eyes searching. You corked the bottle back up and said, “Will they be on Tony’s tab...?”

“Hasn’t he given you enough treasures to warrant complimentary rum shots?” Steve pouted mockingly.

You ground your teeth for a few moments before waving him off. “Fine. On the house.” Steve winked lasciviously, “Much thanks, love.”

Annoyed, you turned away from him and went back to your business. The hours were doing nothing to calm the crowd yet and you begged for the impending witching hour and superstitions seeping into everyone’s psyches.

Handing some dirty glasses across the window from the bar to the back, you spotted your flowers in a vase again. You smiled softly, a moment’s reprieve. They were lovely. You leaned forward, eyes closed, and took a long inhale.

“If I knew picking a simple bundle of flowers by the shoreline would catch your attention so aptly, I would’ve saved myself a lot of trouble,” Tony said, barely above slurring his words from behind you.

You collected yourself before turning around to face him. He was leaning on the bar, slowly twirling his empty pint glass on its edge. He has long shed his coat, standing there in his leather vest over his shirt, unbuttoned just enough to expose his chest hair.

“Do you need water?” you questioned, trying to keep the condescension out of your tone and be concerned. It was hard knowing he had sent Steve up here to try to coerce poor Peter just to get into your sights.

Tony smiled broadly, looking charming as ever. You hated yourself for feeling the flutter in your stomach at it. “Sure. Thank you for being concerned for me, dearie.”

You turned and fetched him a glass of water and brought it over to him. He was close to you as he leaned on the bar, his eyes trailing down from your own gaze to your lips.

“I missed you all night,” he said, gripping the glass and bringing it towards himself. “It’s like you were avoiding me for that little pipsqueak.”

“He’s nice,” was all you offered, offering the new glass. He held out the empty and you traded him. His fingers brushed yours, longer than was necessary.

“Am I not?” Tony questioned, cocking his head.

“No. You’re very brutal — ruthless even. You’re only nice when you want something. Which is why you’re always so overly sweet to me,” you quipped without missing a beat.

Tony’s lips curled into a smile, staring at you with admiration. “I’ll always be sweet to you, love. Overly so too. Always.”

“Because I’ll always leave you wanting,” you quipped again, pushing away from the bar and walking off to go tend your tables, tossing his dirty pint glass into the bin.

“That necklace suits you. Still. I have matching earrings if you would just come to my cabin to collect them,” Tony called after you.

He would not be held at arm’s length forever. And you were not sure you wanted him to be.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney​

[iwriteficsandmore]

In Search of Something Special

So tired. Have a test on thurs. But i was so overwhelmed that i needed a distraction. I let myself write blindly and this came out. Hope you guys enjoy and sorry about the spelling errors x3

It'd been a long time since anybody had you feeling like such a piece of trash. Not so much because you had done something petty or worth the hate, but more because of how they treated you. And after months of it, it was only natural that it had you down on the floor like a beaten pup. 

Years had gone by since you last had been on the dating scene. Not because of anything bad. You were just much more involved in your own life and career to bother. Now that you were back and after a handful of less than stellar outings, it was clear that nothing much had changed either.

"Chivalry is truly dead and gone." A long swig from the cold beer in your hand at least did something to lessen the sting.

"Well, someone's partying ahead of time."

Red feathers swaying downward in front of your face told you exactly who dared interrupt your pity party for one. You hang your head back and meet eyes with the Winged Hero who only hovers over you with his gaze turned down to meet yours. Any other day you would've been fine with seeing Hawks. You were fellow heroes who worked near and around the same area. And although he seldom needed any kind of help in his neck of the woods, he was always a ray of sunshine to have when in dangerous missions that seemed like too much of a hassle to do alone.

You were both around the same age give or take a few years, and though your reputations weren't near the same caliber, it was obvious from the first mission you had together that you two worked like a charm. 

If only other things worked just as smoothly.

Heaving a sigh, you lift the can of beer and share a weary half-smirk with him. "Hope you're keen of drowning in booze if you're looking to join."

That characteristic smirk of his disappeared and turned into a quizzical frown without a warning as he landed.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh nothin' much." God, you'd only had about half a pack and you were already losing yourself a bit there. Certainly the heartbreak didn't help. "Just mourning how I only seem to catch total pieces of shit with honey is all."

Those golden eyes of his narrowed as if trying to decipher your mess of a sentence before they widened. Hawks approached where you sat and had a seat beside—the narrow space of your condo's rooftop where no fence kept one away from the edge just wide enough for two.

"You went on another date?"

"Yep. And was met by none other than yet another piece of shit."

"What happened?"

You sniffled, the words stuck in your throat as if not wanting to come out due to shame. Relying on Hawks had become more of a constant in your life than you'd like to admit, and he knew this too. Over time it was easy to see that aside from being good coworkers you two considered each other good friends. It was easy to talk to one another and bitch about work or any particular thing when not out catching thugs. All that made it easier to talk to him about the more intimate side of your life and get an inside on how to get a good guy.

But half a year of trying to find somebody with no fucking luck whatsoever had you're hopes running dry that there truly was any good man out there for you. And it wasn't anything new that when things went south, he was the one to answer your calls in the middle of the night. The one that the next day would come with cheap but delicious take-out from the most obscure, small diner he knew and tubs of ice cream to share for dessert over over-the-top comedy movies.

Bad as it sounded, Hawks was your fail-safe. The one constant you could count on that would be there when you needed it. And you knew how fucking horrible that was because he deserved better than to be stuck with your sorry ass. 

Yet you couldn't help telling him. You couldn't break out of that cycle or from that security that he gave you.

By the time you finish telling him what happened, he's already through his third can. You already cracked open your seventh from another six-pack to have for yourself.

"You have the shittiest luck with guys I've ever seen," he says with a slight grimace.

"I wouldn't think it crazy that I was cursed as a baby or something to just die by my lonesome at this point. That would at least explain things."

Hawks leaned forward, his cheek pressing against his knee as he brought his foot to rest on the ledge. His enormous wings cradled the two of you, the tip of the one closest to you holding you back a bit by your hip. You had huffed about it halfway through your story but no matter how much you protested he said he wasn't about to leave an unbalanced drunkard unbuckled on the ledge of a roof. You hated how he babied you now. You were a hero, god damn it, you could take care of yourself just fine, drunk or not. Hawks wasn’t budging anytime soon though and you were too tired to protest much past the first minute or so.

You legs dangled over the edge and the way you swayed them underneath you had your total attention. "Is it really too much to ask for someone who’s not a complete ass? I really don’t want to live the rest of my life alone."

"Is that really so important" he asked.

For you it was.

You'd seen what a great life your parents had had over the years of a long marriage. Through hiccups, they had stayed together to work out their problems and had lived together through it all. They always said one could never live without the other and it was a promise they kept when not days after her mother died, her father followed suit.

That’s the day she learned that sadness was the deadliest kind of killer. And in her case, loneliness wasn’t that far behind. 

More than wanting to avoid being alone, you just wanted to share that kind of love with someone. 

"I never really wanted this life of glitz and glamour that came with being a hero," you admitted through your own thoughts. “But I worked for it because I thought it’d make me happy. It wasn’t until after my parents passed that I realized...sharing life with someone you love is the kind of life I've always wanted. Now that I know what I want all this just seems...hollow.”

“Well...you’ve got me.”

His nonchalant reply had you chuckling. “I don’t think you heard a word I just said.”

“I heard you,” he corrected. “And I meant what I said.”

A sudden heaviness hits you as you turned to face Hawks. He avoids eye contact with you as he lays down on the ice-cold concrete instead, the glare of the rooftop lights hiding his eyes behind his vizor. 

“Whether it’s as friends, or as something more than that, you’re always going to have me.”

Why does he sound so serious? The way he tilted his head to let the glare disperse and finally meet your eyes told you that he was serious. 

Your cheeks suddenly turn a dark color that you hope was hidden well enough in the dark of the night. 

Hawks? Chicken-brained Hawks? 

Now that there wasn’t a possibility that had ever crossed your mind before. At least not seriously. All you guys had ever been was good friends. Sure, the media was always asking if you two were an item from how often you were seen together in and out of work, and you always promptly shot the idea down as soon as it came up, but was there any real merit in it? 

Was there?

No, there couldn’t be. You were comfortable with him, yes, and you really appreciated him for all the times he was there for you, but it just didn’t feel like...being in love. 

At least not the way that you imagined it would be like. But words your father had once told you when you were but a young girl came to mind at searching for the meaning of what ‘being in love’ really was. 

“How did you know mama was the one, papa?”

“When I realized what having her near me felt like.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I suppose we can say it’s a very calming feeling. A very...warm one, too. And I’ve never felt more at peace with myself and who I am than when I’m with your mother. Loving her taught me that...love is truly our one and only peace on earth. And without her, I will never know peace again.”

Peace.  

That’s what your father experienced and what he called love. And...a part of you could tell that you already knew that peace. Feeling so at peace with yourself with another, so comfortable that it’s like you’ve known them all your life—yeah, that was definitely a feeling you were familiar with during long drawn-out movies nights and cheap take-out. 

At the realization, you can’t help but chuckle and wonder how long this dumb bird brain had been hiding this. Or maybe he hadn’t been hiding it at all and you were just too dense and caught up in your dumb search to notice. Still...if this was the path you wanted to go through, it would crumble down walls that had been build through years of your friendship. Walls that would not come back up intact if things didn’t work out if at all. The risk was there but you also knew that something like what your parents had—that kind of loving peace—was worth the risk. 

“You’re so full of yourself, you know that?”

Hawks chuckled. “I’ve been told worse.”

“By who?”

“You, of course. And all have been more than accurate, I’ll tell you,” he said with another chuckle. All those laughs though didn’t last before he became somber. “But I don’t mean to push you into anything; I was just tired of holding it in and watching you get hurt so many times. But if don’t want to, we can just forget what I said and go back to how things were. I won’t hold it against you. And I promise that nothing will change between us.” 

Before you can answer, Hawks stands from his seat. The wing that been caring for you the hold time brushes against your bare arm sending chills down your spine as it pulled you back from the edge ever so slightly. A single feather stays behind as he heads to the door back inside—a gesture of his that he always made a point of making without any words.

A way for you to call him if you needed him, no matter the time or place. 

You hold it by its quill and twirl the feather between your fingers. 

Peace. That’s what you wanted. Mine—no...ours.

Your hesitation lasts only a brief moment when you hear the door finally open and you speak out without thinking. Your voice is just above a whisper but it isn’t him you’re speaking to. Your lips brush against the single feather as you speak and you know that alone stops him in his tracks. 

“A date.” The feather moves ever so slightly and you know you have his attention. Flustered, you try to make an excuse but it ends up as lame as can be. “I mean, only if you’re okay with it! Like you said, I’m not trying to force you either and I don’t know if I’m emotionally ready for another one, but...but if it’s you...I don’t think...I’d mind.”

“How does take-out and a movie sound to you then?” 

His voice reverberates across the space that separates you and forces you to look back at him. Funny how you’ve never noticed how bright his smile could be, or maybe this is the first time you’ve ever seen him smiling like that.

That peace returns and is accompanied by a flutter in your stomach. The good kind. You twirl the feather around as it brushes against your lips every time making your cheeks warm with anticipation. 

“Perfect.”