#es fanfiction

[marmolady]

Last Night on Earth (N*SFW)

Main Pairings: Estela x (f)MC

Summary: Preparing for the Watchers to lay siege upon The Celestial, Estela faces up to her feelings for Taylor… who has her own hopes for what could be their last night on Earth. Basically, expanding upon the start of Taylor and Estela's romantic relationship. Erring heavily on the smutty side, which is so noooot my comfort zone.

Word Count: 5420

Thanks for reading

Estela sat down next to Taylor, catching the trace of a smile.

“It’s hard to eat anything,” Taylor observed. “My stomach’s churning like you wouldn’t believe. But I’m not going to not put fuel in knowing what’s coming.”

“We spent all those hours trying to make a half-decent fighter out of you; I’d be pretty pissed if you went and blew it by going in on empty.”

She hadn’t wanted to care for Taylor. She hadn’t wanted to care for anyone. She should’ve been better at keeping her distance.

Would it have made a difference? Could she really have turned away from the other students’ plight?

No. She hadn’t banked on this-- how could she have seen it coming? But the simple truth was that she wouldn’t see innocents hurt by whatever the hell Rourke had done here, not if she could help it.

“Estela--” Taylor reached for her hand, but while Estela tensed, taken totally by surprise, she let the touch linger. It felt… nice.

“I want you to know I appreciate you being here.”

She wasn’t expecting that.

“Whatever you’re here for, you’re ready to throw your life away for it-- it’s something bigger to you. But you’re here. I wouldn’t ask it of you… but it means a lot. Somehow you help me feel braver than I thought possible. So, yeah… thank you.”

Estela looked away, the warm sincerity in Taylor’s blue eyes having become overwhelming. What could she even say to that? “I’ll do what I can-- I can’t promise I can you through this alive--”

“I wouldn’t ask you to.”

“Taylor, I--” Estela stalled, even as she looked back into Taylor’s eyes, finding herself caught up in that gaze again. She knew what this was now; she wasn’t stupid. It wasn’t because of the note her mother left, though she could tell herself that like a lying coward. As if that would explain the longing to know the feel of her lips? Estela felt her cheeks burn, her ears, her neck, but when she finally broke Taylor’s gaze, it was only to find herself lingering upon her mouth… those lips slightly parted, surely so soft…. She trailed off, and again turned away, sighing.

Taylor didn’t push. She moved her hand away, reducing the pressure. It was a relief-- and yet Estela immediately missed the touch.

“I had a weird conversation with Lila and Iris just now,” Taylor said, diffusing. It worked, for Estela was switched-on once more, looking back to her with a frustrated shake of her head.

“They’re all crazy to put any trust at all in that thing,” she growled.

All at once, Taylor looked sheepish.

“Yeah…. I’m sorry Raj said…. It’s not comparable. And it’s not anyone’s place to say ‘no one trusted you’ on behalf of everyone else.” Taylor picked at her food some more. “Iris might be useful up against the Watchers, though. I guess, if we survive, we’ll take it from there.”

There was no denying the sting of Raj’s words after they arrived back to the Celestial with Iris, but Estela hadn’t dwelled upon it; the other students were sensible not to trust her-- it was only Taylor who was stupid enough to not know trouble when it stared her in the face. And yet, Taylor, for the most part, seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. Maybe she just sees things differently.

At any rate, it seemed like the group… Estela hesitated to call them her friends… but it seemed like they looked at her as one of them now. And as for Iris… that computer was not as pressing a threat as the Watchers. It could be dealt with later-- if they survived this night.

 Estela looked Taylor in the face, listening. Hoping she could do so without ending up staring again, getting distracted. What was the matter with her? “What were you talking with them about?”

Taylor cleared her throat, her cheeks slightly flushed.

“I asked Lila,” she said, “-- she knew about Aleister. I’m pretty certain she’s keeping a whole lot to herself; she knows more than you’d expect for someone who supposedly just deals with tourists. There’s just something so off about her, especially with anything concerning Rourke herself, she just gets… weird.”

Admittedly, Estela didn’t like that. At all. “Well, it seems like we’re stuck with both of them for now. Be careful what you say around them.”

“Oh, for sure. I know I’m not the only one being cautious; Zahra was adamant Lila didn’t come with us to the observatory. We’ll just have to keep our heads about us.”

Estela nodded. By now, trusting Taylor came easily and, in spite of Estela’s instincts to fight it, she was coming to accept that Taylor saw her as a friend in return. Could Taylor possibly know how much it meant? Was her loneliness that obvious?

“Hey, I wanna catch Grace-- she’s looking a bit lost over there.” Taylor offered her plate towards Estela. “I think I’ve forced down as much as I can; you’re welcome to finish off my sandwich if you can stomach it.”

Always kind. Estela looked up to Taylor-- her friend-- as she stood to move off, and their eyes met. For a moment, she was lost there, unable to tear herself away. Could Taylor hear how hard her heart was pounding?

She reached for her.

Stop it! The hell do you think you’re doing?

Somehow she recovered herself, swallowing hard. “Then I’ll see you later… hopefully before shit hits the fan.”

Taylor’s smile was almost… shy? Did she feel something between them? Estela had never been flirted with; chances were, she was reading it all wrong. But she smiled back, and she could’ve sworn Taylor’s cheeks pinkened.

“Yeah, I’ll see you round. I’m not facing down certain death without you.”

There was no way Estela would be having that.

“You better not.”

____________________________

Coming down from the roof where she’d left Grace and Aleister, Taylor found herself a little at a loss. What do you do when you’re just waiting… waiting around for your fate to play out. Either they’d be killed or they’d survive, and there was nothing left to do but… wait.

“Heya Taylor.”

Diego looked… oddly chipper given the circumstances.

“How are you holding up, Diego?” Taylor asked. She was proud of him. They’d been through all kinds of crazy, and he had his way of making her smile through it all. That, she was certain, was a special kind of bravery.

“Oh, you know. Ups and downs, peaks and valleys. Found some chips in the kitchen, gonna get murdered by a bunch of Lord of the Rings rejects…. The usual.”

He grinned, and it bolstered Taylor’s mood. It was all beyond the point of worrying-- they’d just have to face it head-on, come what may.

“At least you got some chips, though.”

“Salt and vinegar, baby. The best.”

He glanced over to where Estela appeared to be warming up her body to fight.

“Soooooo… you gonna… you know….”

Was he getting at what she thought he was getting at?

“Am I gonna what?”

“Do I seriously need to spell it out? Make a move!”

Yep.

“Wh… what?”

 It wasn’t that she was playing dumb. She could barely get her mind off Estela, drawn to her as she was like a moth to a flame. But the timing, though….

“Come on, Taylor! I’ve seen the way you’ve been acting! Flirting… teasing… staring out with those ba-dump ba-dump heart eyes…. So what are you waiting for? Go get that steamy R-rated action!”

“I… I mean… now?”

“This might well be our last night on Earth, Taylor. What better time than now?”

Estela was beautiful. And dangerous. She’d saved Taylor’s life a couple of times, even putting her own on the line to do so. Taylor had snuggled up to Estela, defiant against the cold night, and felt a warmth and safety that she never wanted to leave. Estela had her secrets, and they were secrets that would get Taylor hurt-- if she was lucky. And her hard-won smile made Taylor’s stomach swoop wildly, made her heart nearly beat plain out her chest.

Nothing was ever simple.

“I don’t even know if she’s interested in women, let alone interested in me--”

“Taylor. She’s into you. Those sparks flying off between you don’t lie!” Diego’s face became serious. “Who knows how things are gonna go down tonight… but do you really want to face down death leaving this hanging? It’s not the time for regrets.”

Taylor bit her lip. Estela would think she was crazy-- thinking about sex when they were on the verge of being under siege. It wasn’t just sex, though, it was something more. She wanted to know Estela, to be close to her. She longed for it, good sense be damned. And whatever happened after… well, she’d go out with all her cards on the table. Honest.

She took a deep breath. “I guess… what have I got to lose?”

No holding back now. Just gotta rip the bandage off.

____________________________

“Hey.”

Estela looked up. She’d felt Taylor approaching as she stretched, limbering up for what lay ahead.

“...Hello, Taylor.”

“You, um, busy?”

“No, not really. I’m killing time until the Watchers attack.”

Taylor shifted her weight, appearing nervous. She opened her mouth, paused, and then spoke.

“Well, you know… I was just wondering if… maybe you wanted to come with me to my room?”

Estela studied Taylor. Was she… getting at…?

“Hang out. In your room. Just us.”

She felt hopeful, then ill. Her heart skipped a beat when Taylor replied….

“Yeah.”

Oh. “I….”

She could feel her eyes prickling with tears threatening to come. A hard lump came to her throat. Her gaze met with Taylor’s, so warm and earnest.

Now it was all there in front of her, she just didn’t have the will to fight her feelings any longer.

“Yes. I’d like that.”

_________________________

“So. This is your room.”

It had been a quiet journey upstairs. Estela hadn’t known what to say… and it seemed Taylor had the same problem. Actually, it seemed Taylor was holding her breath pretty much until they got back to her room.

Then, she was on edge… jumpy. Estela found it oddly reassuring-- at least she wasn’t the only one absolutely bricking it.

“Yeah, uh, go ahead and make yourself at home. I’ve got some wine in the cabinet, and there’s a pretty great view out the window, and--”

“Taylor… did you invite me up here to discuss your room?”

It was better to get to the point. Taylor was only getting herself wound up.

Taylor’s sapphire eyes filled with relief. In this space, just the two of them, they only had to be truthful… the truth wasn’t anything to fear. It was something beautiful. “...No. Not really.”

Estela stepped forward, tense but hopeful. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing…. But she knew she wanted it. Unbidden images flooded her mind, and for the first time, she let herself want it. She swallowed hard.

“Listen, I… I’m not skilled at this sort of thing. I don’t exactly know what to say.”

“Well,” Taylor’s voice shook, just a little, “…what do you want?”

“I….”

For just a moment, Estela hesitated. She’d already gone this far. And Taylor… she could be honest with Taylor. About everything. Even….

 “I want you to kiss me.”

Taylor stepped forward, closing the space between them… and softly touched her lips to Estela’s.

Estela flinched at the shock of it, a split-second of panic at the sudden intimacy. It’s okay-- it’s Taylor. Then she kissed her back, eyes fluttering closed as she gave into the sensation, sweet and warm, and the giddy explosion somewhere in the pit of her stomach, all driving her to deepen the kiss, to lose herself in it. Fireworks… this was why they always said it was like fireworks….

They came apart all too soon. Estela caught the flicker of nervous exhilaration in Taylor’s eyes. She’d wanted it too. It baffled Estela, but she didn’t question it.

“Was that okay?” Taylor asked. She was definitely flushed now, no mistaking it.

Yes… but Estela needed more. If she was giving into this, she was giving in completely. Just tell her….

“...I want you to kiss me again. And I want to touch you this time. To feel you.”

Taylor pulled her shirt off over her head, and Estela sucked in a breath. She could hear her heart beating in her ears. Oh my god. Then, her expression a little shy, Taylor put her hands behind her back to undo her bra, which fell to the ground.

There was an intense swooping in Estela’s stomach and a throbbing heat at her core as her eyes fell upon Taylor’s naked chest, the perfect peaks of her breasts. Overwhelmed by her flaring arousal, Estela closed her eyes, moving in again to kiss Taylor again.

She was bolder this time, kissing fully, passionately seeking more of the feeling, a gasp escaping her as Taylor’s tongue flicked against her own. And all the while, she touched… her hands roaming the warm skin of Taylor’s back, tracing the contours of her sides, stroking over her breasts, nipples pebbling beneath calloused fingers. She felt Taylor exhale, trembling, against her lips.

“How’s that?” Taylor seemed more confident now herself, a smile upon her face. Smiling as though she wanted this as fiercely as did Estela.

“Mmmmm….”

Her heart hammering against her ribs, Estela took hold of Taylor’s hands and guided them to pull off her shirt. Taylor obliged, taking her time, as though savouring every inch being revealed. The heat of Taylor’s gaze upon Estela’s body was electric, and though she knew she should have felt vulnerable, it simply wasn’t there. She just wanted Taylor, more of her.

Estela pressed her body up against Taylor’s, feeling the warmth of her, the softness of her skin… but it still wasn’t enough. Hastily, she brought Taylor’s hands up to undo her bra, letting out an involuntary whine as they brushed against the sensitive skin at the sides of her breasts.

Taylor’s eyes were upon her again, heavy-lidded with desire, raking over her body. Wanting her in return….

It was almost too much.

“God… you’re perfect…,” Taylor crooned, standing there exposed, the curves of her body bathed in lamplight.

How did this feel so good? Estela could feel herself grinning like an idiot, and she didn’t even care. “Shhh.”

She tugged her in, kissing her, grasping onto her body with increasing urgency. Taylor….

Then Taylor’s hands cupped her face, cradling her, almost reverent, and Estela had to come up for breath. Taylor’s lips traced a path down by her ear, down her neck-- making Estela’s breath hitch-- and lingering over her collarbone.

“Here,” Taylor said softly as she looked back up only to capture Estela’s lips again. “Lie down.”

Unable to bear even any space between her body and Taylor’s, Estela guided Taylor with her, easing her on top of her as she sunk down into the mattress.

“More,” she said-- it came out far more of a growl than she’d intended, but now that she’d given in to her need, it was insatiable. “Touch me. Feel me.”

Taylor slowly slid down her body, and Estela tangled her fingers in her hair, for she  couldn’t not be touching her. She hoisted up her hips, inviting Taylor to remove her pants, which were soon discarded, leaving her all but bare. Estela’s own heady scent reached her nose, surely it was strong to Taylor who was now trailing insistent kisses up her inner-thigh….

Estela gave a gutural moan. She almost couldn’t bear it…. Then Taylor’s lips skimmed over the thin black fabric of her underwear, making her buck her hips. She moaned again, louder. Please….

The firm kiss pressed damp fabric against Estela’s sensitive skin, and she realised how wet she’d become. Then another, right over her aching clitoris.

“Oh my god….”

This was ecstasy. Estela arched her back while her hands clenched around Taylor, almost clawing her.

“Please. More. More.”

She needed to look at her, to look her full in the face and make her feel it… how much she wanted her. God, she wanted her.

Estela pulled Taylor up flush against her, delighting in the sensation as their bare breasts pressed together. They were so close now that their noses were touching, their breath mingled panting upon one another’s faces… and the thundering of Taylor’s heart… Estela could not have separated it from her own.

“I want you,” she croaked out.

Taylor’s breath shook, and those tantalising lips curved into a smile. “I’m yours.”

Taylor kissed Estela deeply, then left her momentarily to squirm out of her underwear. She took Estela’s hand, and watching her reaction closely, brought it between her legs.

The whine Taylor made when Estela’s fingers first brushed past the neat patch of blonde curls all but made her come apart. She delved deeper, chasing the whimper, her two fingers slipping easily through the slickness of Taylor’s folds, rolling over the small mound of her clit.

Taylor gasped, her eyes closing and her head thrown back. “Oh god, Estela….”

It set Estela on fire, heat prickling in places she didn’t know could feel it-- from what, just her voice?-- the feel of her?

Panting, she sat up to deal with her own underwear, finding herself hot behind the ears as she tugged them down. She was a long ways past needing to be shy with Taylor, but to be entirely physically exposed was new. Never had she given any thought as to whether her more private areas might have been pleasing to the eye. She was not as neatly groomed as her… lover?… kissing partner?… whatever this was? Taylor, for her part, was looking upon her glistening petals as if Estela’s pussy was something beautiful to behold.

Then, Taylor was on top of her once more, her slick heat rubbing over her thigh as their legs entwined.

“Lie back…,” Taylor whispered. “I’ve got you.”

Estela did as she was told, her nails digging into Taylor’s back as talented fingers pressed against her, rubbing against her clit, then teasing at her entrance.

“Is this okay?”

Estela moaned her response, clawing harder at Taylor’s shoulder and bucking her hips. Obliging, Taylor entered her, finger crooked against some sensitive spot Estela hadn’t known was even there. Estela pressed against her, wanting more, and Taylor got a rhythm going, thrusting her finger, then two, in and out, while her thumb pressed against her clit, pushing Estela closer to release with every motion.

She couldn’t just come apart like this, void of all control. But she couldn’t stop it, and she could no longer fathom wanting to. Whatever this was building up inside her, she was helpless to give in to it.

Taylor’s fingers tangled in Estela’s hair, anchoring their bodies together, and the sharp tug brought her ever-closer. Estela buried her face in Taylor’s shoulder and cried out as she came, clinging through the rush as if for dear life and collapsing into that beautiful woman while she saw stars.

Taylor was grinning above her face, a beautiful sight, and when she kissed her it was gentler, sweet and soft.

Her body shook as aftershocks of pleasure raced through her, but Estela reached for Taylor. It was a struggle to find a rhythm while her body kept shuddering, but she kept her hand pressed between Taylor’s legs, allowing Taylor to thrust against her. Eyes closed, Taylor appeared lost in a state of bliss, and the sight of her, hair mussed, sweaty, and riding her hand sent a further zap through Estela’s twitching body.

Estela pulled Taylor up once more, claiming her mouth with her own. While one hand fiercely grasped her hips, her ass, the other redoubled the rhythmic rubbing against Taylor’s swollen clit, until she brought her over the edge with a shuddering gasp.

Taylor’s spent body seemed to melt into Estela’s, their legs all in a tangle. Estela’s chest heaved; she was utterly exhilarated, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from those blue ones… how they sparkled with affection. …For her? She leaned in, kissing Taylor slowly, savouring the feel of her mouth, aching to know it intimately. And Taylor caressed her, fingers trailing through her hair, stroking her face. Oh, Estela adored her.

What have you done to me?

Estela exhaled, and what felt like a world of built-up tension flowed out of her.

Taylor, what have you done?

__________________________

Estela lay face-to-face with Taylor, near enough to lean in and kiss her. Her body was alive with tingling sensations that were new and alarming and wonderful.

Taylor lifted a hand to somewhat tame the mess had been made of her hair. She was grinning, glowing.

“That was… that was amazing.”

Estela could feel her face lighting up. God, Taylor’s smile made her giddy….

“Was it really?”

“Of course, really!” came Taylor’s laughing reply.

“You… you should know…. I’ve never done that before.”

“With a girl?” Taylor asked, her hand trailing down Estela’s arm idly.

“With anyone.”

Taylor’s surprise lasted only a moment; everything she knew about Estela told her that getting close to others was hard. Then, the most bizarre sensation of not being able to even remember if she’d ever done it before either. Unnerved, Taylor focused her attention upon Estela; for now, nothing else was important.

 Estela fiddled with Taylor’s fingers over the sheets, fondling them. There was something so delicate about Taylor’s fingers… they were gracile and soft.

“I just….” She looked back up to Taylor’s lovely face, seeing the warmth there. This was why it was her. “I’ve never really trusted anyone like that. Not anyone I met. Until you. And I got to know you. And I felt this… this yearning… that I’d never felt before. Have I been missing out this whole time? Is kissing always this good?”

And as if to answer, Taylor brought a hand to the back of Estela’s head, bringing her in. There she kissed her full and deep, feeling a small giggle against her lips.

“I think our kissing is exceptionally good,” sad cheekily as they came apart.

“I’d like to think so.”

She was entranced. With Estela… she hadn’t imagined the dam would have broken as it had, however much she might have desired it. A sense of peace had settled over her; whatever happened in the hours to come, Estela knew she cared for her. That counted for something.

Ignoring the doubts that tugged at her mind surrounding her own love life, Taylor probed gently as she ran her hand along Estela’s hip and her toned stomach… somehow managing to do so without her mind completely short-circuiting.

“So you never really dated before?”

Estela shook her head. “My life has been… let’s say atypical.”

“Atypical in what way?”

Estela turned away, looking up to the ceiling. After everything… she needed to let Taylor in. She wanted to. “My father abandoned my family when I was just a baby. So I was raised by my mother and my uncle in San Trobida. My uncle taught me the ways of our family business. He taught me everything I know. How to hunt… how to fight… how to kill.”

Taylor should have balked, but she didn’t. She was just listening… damn, that woman was unflappable. She just lay there, genuinely open, wanting to know her.

Estela continued. “My mother though… she always dreamed of a better life more me. A peaceful life. A safe life.” Her face fell. “That’s why she loved working for Rourke International… because it was our ticket out of there.”

Somehow, that was what surprised Taylor. “Your mother… worked for Rourke?”

“Yeah, and when I was fifteen, she got reassigned here. The Celestial. I stayed with my uncle, because no children were allowed… but she still mailed home a letter every week.”

She swallowed hard. “Then one day… the last letter came.” She could feel Taylor’s frown, as if she’d picked up the dread of what was coming. “This one was different. It was handwritten, messy. My mother claimed she’d discovered something Rourke was up to… something illegal… something very dangerous. She was afraid for her life. She begged my uncle to come get her.”

Taylor felt her stomach drop. She knew what was coming. Oh, Estela….

“The next day, we received another letter. Directly from Rourke International. It said my mother had died in a freak accident at the resort. But I knew even then, it was bull. Everett Rourke killed my mother.”

For a moment, Taylor digested what she was being told, the horror of it. The pieces began to fall into place.

 Though she was pretty sure she knew the answer, Taylor asked; “What are you going to do about it?”

Estela’s expression hardened, all traces of the sweet smile Taylor brought forth gone.

“I vowed, then and there, that I had one mission, one goal… to avenge my mother, or die trying. Of course, it wasn’t easy. How does a poor girl from San Trobida get close to the richest, most powerful man alive? I found out he had a son, little Everett Junior, enrolled in college under a fake name. I used my uncle’s connections to forge papers to get me into the same school. I was so close to finding out who he was.”

“What would you have done with Aleister?” Taylor asked hesitantly. Did she want to know? But they were doing this. All cards on the table.

“To be honest, I planned to take him hostage. Use him to get close to Rourke. And then… get my revenge.”

“Damn….”

It was confronting, and Taylor needed a few moments to wrestle with it. But she wasn’t afraid of Estela. Not in the least.

“Then I saw the contest,” Estela continued. “Ten students, selected for a trip here. To Rourke’s prized jewel.” Her voice cracked. “To the island where my mother died.

“I couldn’t believe my luck when I won,” she said quietly. “But I had to go, to join you on this trip… if I was ever going to have a chance at my revenge.”

A deep sadness settled over Taylor. This was a mess. A horrible, bloody mess. And with everything she knew…. Who could blame Estela for getting justice the only way that seemed big enough?

But if the collateral damage was Estela’s own life?

Taylor searched Estela’s eyes, hoping she’d see she’d not just lost her with what she’d shared. Even if… even if it scared the crap out of her.

“You still want that?” she asked gently. “Is that still your mission?”

Estela took her time, considering Taylor… what they’d shared together… as her fingertips trailed along the contours of her side. She’d stay here with her like this forever if she could. If she could.

“You’ve… shown me things I didn’t think were possible. Made me feel things I didn’t know I could feel. For that, I’ll always be grateful.”

“Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming?”

The sadness in Taylor’s eyes hurt like a physical wound, but Estela wouldn’t lie to her. She wasn’t going to give up. She couldn’t.

“...But Everett Rourke killed my mother. And that means he has to die.”

Then, all of a sudden, Taylor’s face was ashen. Of course-- how could she not be horrified, repulsed? But she also looked… confused?

“You’re quiet. You’re weirded out by me, aren’t you?” Weirded out? Understatement of the century.

Taylor sat up, shaking, looking down at her trembling hands, then back up at Estela, looking into her face as though she was seeing a ghost.

“Estela? Is it really you?”

What--?

Then, Taylor launched herself forward, clutching Estela against her chest. And she was crying.

“Uh….”

There was something cold and metal against Estela’s back, and as she sat up, Taylor stared at it, her mouth agape.

“What the hell is that?” Estela demanded. And where did it come from?

“It was real….”

“What are you talking about?”

Taylor seemed to pull herself together, and looked Estela in the face. “Do you trust me?”

Estela almost laughed. “I mean… I think that’s obvious at this point.”

“Then I need you to come with me, right now.” Taylor reached for Estela’s hand and hurriedly pulled her out of bed and into the closet.

“Round two already?” Estela asked as the door shut closed behind them, leaving them in darkness. She might have been new to all this, but that seemed the most plausible scenario for their being holed up naked in a closet together. Maybe that was how Taylor coped with….?

But Taylor put a finger to Estela’s lips and shushed her, her expression serious. Something was up.

Estela could have sworn she shore a shadow pass over the moon, and then---

CRASH

Her jaw dropping, Estela grasped onto Taylor as she saw the unmasked Watcher-- the leader?-- swing confidently into the room with a deafening shatter of glass.

“What the hell?” she breathed, unable to contain herself in her shock. “How did you--”

“Shh.”

Of course. Estela silenced herself, and her grip around Taylor tightened. Huddled in together, they held a shared breath as through the tiny gaps in the wood they saw the Watcher search the apparently empty room… passing right by the closet.

The confused Watcher moved out into the hall, continuing the search elsewhere, and Estela felt Taylor slump against her in relief.

“Too close for comfort,” Estela admitted.

Taylor was still shaking as the two of them stepped back out into the bedroom, and her chest was heaving.

Estela reached for her. “Stop,” she said gently. “Just stop, okay? Tell me what’s going on.”

Swallowing past a lump in her throat, Taylor found her voice. “I…. I knew what was going to happen because it already had. We were in bed, and… and the Watcher came through the window. You were fighting… rolling on the ground, and then… the glass.” She shuddered involuntarily, and her hand went to her mouth. “He rolled you over this massive shard of glass and you….”

Taylor wiped her eyes. “Sorry, we really don’t need me getting all worked up right now with everything that’s….” She righted herself, leaning against her lover’s shoulder. “But you died in my arms. I felt you….”

Shit. Not knowing what on earth to say to that, Estela just hugged Taylor. When they came apart, Taylor appeared more herself, more grounded.

She held up the necklace, pointing out that the stone had turned grey.

“I wanted more than anything to be back in bed with you, before it all went wrong… and when I touched this, it came true.”

It was insane, truly insane.

“It can’t be… but….” Estela shook her head. If they didn’t keep their wits about them, they’d both actually be dead. “Doesn’t matter. Right now, that guy’s roaming the halls looking for us. We’ve gotta warn the others….”

It was a strange feeling to be throwing clothes on, to be plunged back into reality. Everything had changed.

Protectively, Estela pulled Taylor flush against the wall, and she edged forward to peek around the corner. Her heart sank at the sight of several more Watchers, all armed with weapons of amber.

“We’ve got more company,” she muttered.

“How are they all getting in?” Taylor hissed, her brow furrowed.

“There’s a lot of them. I’m guessing our barricades didn’t hold for long.”

It was inevitable. They’d all known that. But she didn’t want to leave Taylor now….

“I know the timing sucks, but we’ve gotta split up if we’re gonna warn everybody in time.”

Taylor’s eyes were wide-- she was scared. Seeing someone you… someone you cared about… killed, of course that would scare a person.

“I don’t want to leave you either, but you’re right.”

Estela wanted to reassure her, to tell her nothing like that would happen. But she couldn’t lie.

“Just… be careful, alright? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Then she pulled her close, and kissed her, tender and deep. It wouldn’t be goodbye… she wouldn’t let it be. Estela lingered just a moment in the feel of her, her Taylor. I’m gonna fight like hell for you.

Then she took off jogging on light feet down the hall.

With the fire burning through her right now, those assholes weren’t gonna know what hit them. 

[owly-lumi]

So I've been reading "Trust Me" by @chiconisroc on Ao3 for a while now, and I wanted to draw the hug scene in chapter 22 It's very sweet 😭

It's canon

Source?

TRUST ME bro

(not ship obv)

Extra💫:

[catbox730]

my Shockwave design for my astronaut AU

[sadgaygermancops]

[cyberapid]

Earthspark Bumblebee x Cybertronian Reader

Work Jitters

No gendered terms are used for the reader. There’s gonna be another part as soon as I stop fucking around.

I’ve also got two more chapters for my Mom 2 that I’ll post when I stop fucking around again

:•)

•-•-•

The laughter of the human Malto’s children rings through your audials as the tallest twin slips over the mud that Mo had unexpectedly thrown under them— just as you had instructed her.

Much to Thrash’s annoyance and Twitch’s delight as she quickly jumps over the mudslide taking the lead in their relay race.

It's common for larger bots to have slower and clunker reactions, especially one so young and inexperienced. Nothing of concerning note, not yet at least, you think to yourself but noting it down doesn't hurt for later.

“That's not fair! I thought they weren’t a part of the race,” Thrash’s complaints bring you from any thoughts that knock around your processor. He's now at least five feet behind his sister who leaps over a stray log left in their path then flips over completely before landing on her pedes and continuing on.

Looking down at the screen attached to your arm plate, wirelessly connected to the bots allowing you to monitor their function. You see that the cables in her pedes and struts strain and her vents are struggling to keep up with her, so she’s quickly overheating.

Though amused by their antics, you reprimand the bot, “Slow down, Twitch. Remember this is a race in name only, I just needed data on your physical state…..” Your warning is waved off as she continues her rate.

Thrash is quick on her tail, also pushing himself to an unnecessary degree.

Pulling yourself up to your peds allows you to see them run further down the open plains of the enclosed farm, spooking any poor animal in their way, trekking towards the makeshift ending ribbon that's being held by a fence post and Robby. Who looks nervous by his sibling’s quick approach. Agitation creeps its way through your processor as you finally shout towards the terrans, “Twitch, Thrash that's enough!”

Twitch is the first to skid to a stop at your serious tone and look back towards you but her brother takes her pause as his chance to continue and overtake with a triumphant yell, but his excitement is short lived before he’s stumbling over his sisters stuck out pede and falling flat onto his face plate with an audible clattering.

“Sorry!” Twitch is fluttering towards you with her servos cupped, held over her chest plate, and pedes no longer touching the ground. Leaving her brother reeling, dramatically checking over his enstril, dermas, and dentas to see if everything is still placed where it should be. “We were just-”

“Pushing yourself too far. You're young and haven't been training long, give yourself time.” You place your servo on her slumped arm and crouch down to be face to face with the young Terran.

Your intake halts at the sudden voice of a familiar mech, “Actually, ‘haven’t been training at all' is more accurate.” Bumblebees vents sound with a familiar annoyance, something he's been expressing far more than often recently. Twitch sighs loud and far too dramatic at Bumblebee’s approach, she then turns to you with pleading optics.

“We are training! You’ve got us running and dodging things, training! See,” she turns to a less than impressed Bumblebee who turns to you, equally pleading optics making you roll your optics at their antics.

“I'm not here to train you, nor am I qualified. I'm a medic and only meant to keep you healthy and to learn more of your biology,” you motion towards Bumblebee with your free servo while the other stays placed on the young Terrans shoulder plating, “He’s here to train you. Bumblebee has experience that far surpasses mine. He’s one of the best scouts I’ve had the pleasure of meeting,” a flush blue covers his faceplating at your compliment which goes unnoticed by you but the human children catch it, stifling their laughs as a glare from the yellow scout is shot towards them.

The twins groan loudly and the tallest of them flops onto his back, impact causing mud to splatter over the whole group. Any laughter the humans might still have had quickly dies as their clothing and hair is abruptly covered in mud. Mo being the first to react, eye wide and mouth agape, “Thrash!! Moms gonna kill us,” she turns to her older brother who looks more exasperated than shocked.

“She’s gonna kill Thrash,”

“Kill?” The Terran comes to his pedes quicker than any bot or human has seen so far, terror fills his face and spark at the notion

“A metaphor, not literal. You will live Thrash,” a servo is placed on his shoulder, in the hopes of calming the mech down.

He vents loudly, leaning his helm on your shoulder and slumps, “I thought I was a goner, Teach,” you can’t help the smile that creeps over your facial plating at his theatrics, looking down you transform your arm into a scanner before the blue light goes over both Terrans registering current physical data into your data.

“Thankfully you live another day, thank primus. Meaning you get to have an even better day tomorrow, with Bee, training” the groans coming from the twins swiftly kills the smile that was creeping up Bumblebees dermas.

[cataqu33rz]

Thanks @chiconisroc for fucking shattering me with the FIRST TF FANFIC I'VE DECIDED TO READ. I've been leaving so many comments in one night and binged it until the most recent chapter cause I don't know when to stop myself fr. I can't recommend it enough, here's the first chapter.

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE READ IT I BEG Y'ALL YOU'VE GOTTAAAAAA-!!!

[thegrinningghost]

I cannot explain clearly my absolute adoration and love for this fanfic you guys I SWEAR—

Press on the Gas Pedal and Accelerate, Baby + all its fanart and its author I SWEAR I constantly send y’all so much love, this was the best thing I ever stumbled across

[eveningspirit]

Inconsistencies [The Pitt fic, disabled Frank Langdon, Ch 3]

That’s how he sees himself in Mel’s eyes now.  And he hates her for it.  He was sure she, of all people, would be better than this. 

Chaper Three - 6:00 P.M.

[fancydusk]

Guess what I did (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

Please ignore the ending, I uploaded it to TikTok first as a thank for the support. But yeah, this is what that opening scene in Chapter 2 of Where Was My Mind looks like. I'm posting it here just so I can put the link in the chapter notes :]

[marmolady]

Countdown to Midnight

Book/Series: Endless Summer

Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f) Variego, Grace x Aleister

Summary: Post-ending. The La Huerta gang see in 2025. Yeah... it took me a lot longer than expected, it's a little late!

Word Count: 5065

Reviews and reblogs are hugely appreciated!

Six Hours to Midnight

Baby Liv sat on her Mama Estela’s lap, nestled against her chest. It was a moment of stillness that was becoming rarer; at some eighteen-months old, the dark-haired, rosy-cheeked child was an agent of chaos… but even little monsters had to recharge at some point.

Holding her baby, Estela was cross-legged in front of a garden patch, one marked with an engraved stone. There was no grave at which to visit her mother, but she had this.

“I think…,” she said, “it should be a boring one-- in a good way. There’s a few things we’ve been talking about with Catalyst, but I don’t wanna take on too much. Livi is what matters.”

Estela talked to her mom about Liv now and then; it was the best she could do. Small comfort was better than no comfort at all. The passing of years was healing in some ways, while some aches only deepened. Olivia Montoya-- the first-- was a distant memory, fading further out of reach, and that was shit.

“We, uh, we’ll head stateside for at least a little while though; Michelle and Quinn are getting married. Liv’s got a gig as a flowergirl!”

Then, she was quiet. She held Liv tighter as her eyes began to sting. Thirteen years…. It wasn’t fair. Almost half her life ago. Closing her eyes, Estela nestled into Liv’s hair, and the scent of her was a balm. Of all the dates the anniversary had to be… that it fell on a day what should have been about looking forward was cruel. What about it wasn’t cruel? ‘Cruel’ was something Estela could not abide, and maybe that fire it brought out in her was a gift, had actually done some good in the world. But she still had to live with what had happened.

Soft footsteps. Immediately as Taylor sat down, Estela leaned into her.

The arrival of her second mother was enough to put Liv back into wriggle-mode. She squirmed halfway onto Taylor’s lap. “Mama Tay! Fwowas?”

“Yeah,” Taylor whispered, “I brought some flowers for Abuelita. They’re really pretty, aren’t they?”

“Fwowas,” Liv agreed, and she reached for the colourful objects. ‘Flowers’ was a new word, and one of Liv’s favourites.

“Uh-ah!”

Thankfully, Estela had quick reflexes, sharpened by time spent in the company of her own grabby toddler, and her nephew as well. “What am I going to do with you, huh?” she laughed. Then she placed the flowers down against the stone. “Te amo, Mami.”

When they’d sat for a few moments more, Estela heaved a big sigh. “Okay; we’d better head over. You’re ready to go?”

Taylor kissed the side of her wife’s head. “Diapers packed, coffee downed. I’m ready if you are.”

Five Hours to Midnight

There was a spring to Diego’s step, and he swung Varyyn’s hand as he walked. This next year was shaping up to be a good one.

“It is nice to see so wide a smile on your face,” Varyyn said, his eyes twinkling and warm in the evening light. “For all the work you have put in, you deserve it.”

Diego gave a little squeal and a hop. “I just can’t believe I heard anything back, today of all days-- after all these months of waiting and trying--”

“Perhaps,” Varyyn said, smiling, “the publishers thought it a New Year’s gift. Or they were so enamored by your writing that they simply could not wait until after the holidays!”

Tremendously exciting though his soon-to-be signed book deal was, there was trepidation as well. Diego had barely left La Huerta since retreating back there when Covid hit. Any extended time in the US meant he’d have to put aside what had become a significant part of himself-- for he was culturally part-Vaanti-- and worse, he’d likely go long stretches without his husband by his side.

Varyyn squeezed the fingers entwined in his. He was quick to sense the swooping of fears. It happened that way with Diego sometimes; any highs too dizzying had to be tempered by a surge of worry or sadness. As though his mind could not trust in joy, and sought to bring him down gently rather than have the world force a crash.

“You have spent so much energy believing in me, my love,” he said, gently tugging Diego closer so that he bumped gently against his chest. It was enough-- that beautiful grin returned. “What if I decree as Elyyshar that you must believe in yourself? Or at least, to say the words, whether you believe them yet or not?”

Diego giggled. “Hey-- you can’t just pull the Elyyshar card on my self-esteem!”

“Then shall I enlist Taylor to cheer in your corner whenever you travel away?”

“That’s not fair-- between the two of you, the bullying voices in my head wouldn’t stand a chance!”

Varyyn pulled Diego to a stop so he could kiss him, sighing into it as his love melted into it. When he came away, he looked upon Diego with all the adoration that reverberated through his soul. “True. And that is exactly how it should be.”

Diego closed his eyes, leaning up so his forehead was pressed gently against Varyyn’s. A soft smile curved his lips. “It’s not even midnight yet….”

“I’m afraid not,” Varyyn said, “but how could I wait for the most marvellous of all your traditions?”

Four Hours to Midnight

Reginald squealed, running up and down the hallway, his little legs flailing to the sides in his wild enthusiasm.

Aleister had a hand to his forehead. New Year’s at our place-- it’ll be no trouble at all! No trouble, ha. No trouble….

“Reggie, we’re settling down now! It’s already a very late night for a little boy.”

He was only two. Midnight was out of the question, but it had seemed simple enough in theory to suggest that Reggie would handle a minor change to the bedtime routine, that being Liv’s staying overnight.

Baby Liv wobbled around on her chubby legs, chasing her cousin at a determined waddle. The one-year-old had at least been changed into her nightie, being just young enough that she didn’t put up too much of a fight.

“Weggie-wun!” she cried with a cheerful bounce of her knees.

Reggie run? Oh no, don’t you start egging him on--

But Diego swooped in, scooping Liv up in his arms. “We can take ‘em! Don’t you know my reputation as a story-teller? I’ll have them eating out the palm of my hand in no time.”

‘No time’ stretched out into thirty, forty, then fifty minutes. It was all hands on deck with two over-excited, over-tired, and increasingly fractious toddlers.

Usually, Reggie’s bedtime routine ran like clockwork, his parents like a well-oiled machine as they responded to minor wobbles. Aleister hoped this night was not a sign of the year to come; Reggie screamed, tried to bite Liv when she grabbed his toy car, threw two books on the floor, and hit his mother, father, and Auntie Taylor in quick succession.

“You said you were looking forward to the toddler phase, Taylor?” Aleister commented darkly as his sister-in-law took a breather.

“I know it’s not like this twenty-four-seven,” she replied, picking up one of the books that had become a missile. “Otherwise, people wouldn’t have more than one. And Reggie’s a darling. Watching him become that person is worth the terrible twos, and it’ll be just the same with Liv.”

With Reggie and Liv settled in Diego’s lap to hear Where the Wild Things Are, there was time at last to enjoy calm and quiet. It struck Taylor how grown-up Liv looked joining her big cousin for a story. The time flew so fast… whether they were ready or not. Taylor found herself looking forward to each new stage, but she knew Estela missed the cuddly baby who could easily be kept close, kept safe. In the early days, Estela had been favoured by Liv by a country mile, but more recently, the fun and expressive Taylor was all the rage. Things just… changed.

“Any big resolutions this year, Al?” she asked as they watched the toddlers from the doorway. Sure, they could go and sit down, get comfortable for a little while, but with the storm over, it was nice to just enjoy a bedtime.

Aleister frowned. “Do we really have to make an annual song-and-dance around self-improvement?”

“Well… no. In some ways it is silly,” Taylor admitted. “I always try to do better; I don’t need the year to tick over to force the issue.”

“I have a temper,” Aleister said shortly. “I snap, I scorn, and I promised myself I’d never let Reg be on the receiving end.” He looked at his little boy, bright-eyed and laughing. “I’m not naiive enough to think that I’m special for losing my rag with a belligerent toddler, but I wanted so badly to not be that parent.”

“Maybe a two-fold resolution,” Taylor said gently, “to handle your emotions better… and to cut yourself some slack for being human. I guess you’ll have reassurance of how normal you are when me and ‘Stel are pulling our hair out over Liv.”

The smallest smile tugged at the edge of Aleister’s mouth. It was fortunate to not feel alone as a parent. Not only did he have Grace, but he had family nearby, their struggles shared and understood.

“Heavens, Liv is going to be a pain in the arse of a toddler. And I’m sure you know I say that with love.”

Taylor couldn’t help but laugh. Liv was strong-willed. It would serve her well in life, but would not necessarily make for an easy ride for her moms. That was okay; they could take on anything.

“He’s such a good boy,” she gushed, watching as Reggie picked up Liv’s dropped milk bottle before Diego could even react. “You must be doing something right, something important, because he is a kind little man.”

Yes, he was. Either Reggie had got that from Grace, Aleister supposed, or they really were on the right track.

“So, Taylor? What challenge have you set for yourself? I can only assume you’ve done so if you’re bringing this nonsense up willingly.

“Same as always, really. Be grateful every day. Don’t forget what I went through to be here, even when ‘here’ feels like shit. And I really need to get a handle on my caffeine problem. Between finishing my degree and surviving a baby, I have a very intense relationship with coffee.”

“You know, I hadn’t noticed. Oh well, at least your first ambition was somewhat realistic, saccharine though it might be….”

Three Hours to Midnight

Taylor, pyjama-clad, trudged back down the beach, side-by-side with Diego. As the night had worn on, everyone had seen to change into more comfortable attire, which in Diego’s case had meant a walk back to Elyys’tel to grab his PJs. Taylor, naturally, had joined him, enjoying the fresh night air and the flowing of optimism that came with the eve of a new year.

“I keep seeing all these memes-- ‘95 kids with their thirties looming this year,” Diego laughed. “Who’s first?”

Taylor’s brow furrowed as she ran through the birthdays in her head. “I mean, obviously Jake’s already over that particular hill… but Sean, I’m pretty sure. Earlier in the year it’s mostly us li’l ‘96 kids. It’ll be round for you and me before we know it, though.”

“Feels like a big milestone,” Diego observed, swirling his drink. “The years really do start coming and they don’t stop coming.”

Taylor chuckled. “How do you think I feel? I’ve only been around seven years and I’m already twenty-nine! If I wasn’t so insanely grateful for the life I’ve landed, I could wind up feeling short-changed.” She walked into the shallows, the cool water beautifully refreshing. “I still don’t really know what I want to do when I grow up. Mom, wife, friend, yeah… but professionally has been trickier.”

“I guess it could get easier for you to dabble, if you like, now Liv’s that bit bigger.”

“I’m thinking about it,” Taylor said. “I enjoy counselling, and I want to make myself available to kids in San Trobida, working remotely. That year I was on the ground was pretty rewarding, and I loved connecting with people. It’s just all fallen off since I’ve been away with Liv. I do a little bit here and there, helping out with Catalyst International, but we’ve all definitely lost momentum .”

Diego was thoughtful. It was a difficult balance-- did one chase far horizons or hold tight to the simple things that were dear? La Huerta, with all its secrets, was so far removed from the rest of the world that the choice was often a stark one.

“You’re a really great mom, Tay,” he said. “I’m sure you hear it from Estela all the time, but you’re gonna get it from me too. What were we saying about the years flying by? I don’t think you’ll ever regret making Liv your priority while she’s small. The rest of the world isn’t going anywhere… and who can we thank for that?”

“Team effort,” Taylor stated, but she smiled at her friend. “I’ve always put too much pressure on myself. It’s probably an annoying by-product of what Vaanu made me for. Estela is much better adjusted to living in the moment. She’s done. She’s got her family, and anything else can just take a seat.”

Of course, personal experience of how suddenly loved-ones can be snatched away would do that to a person.

“But thank you. It really does mean a lot. If I can only be successful in one thing for the rest of my life, it’s my family, no questions asked. I don’t wanna ever lose sight how lucky I am to have them… by all accounts I shouldn’t even still be here.”

“Yeah… you were never gonna belong anywhere else.” Diego leaned against a rock, easing into sitting down. “There’s actually something I should tell you….”

Taylor read the mood quickly; this was good news. She sat beside him, not minding the sand on her pyjamas.

“So….” He paused for effect. “It looks like I’ve got myself a book deal!”

“I’m sorry-- what? You didn’t lead with that, like, immediately--? Oh my god!”

“I know! It’s a lot to get my own head around, to be honest, but I figured you’d forgive me. I’ve been back-and-forth with a publisher-- they’re based in London-- and, uh, yeah. It’s really happening!”

Taylor squealed and hugged him, almost pulling them both off their perch and into the water. “Congratulations! You deserve this. You really deserve this.”

“It’s just crazy-- I can’t believe it!”

“I can,” Taylor said, beaming proudly.

Diego laughed out loud, “I know you can, you’re there with Varyyn heading up my cheer squad!”

“I’m on such a high right now; I mean, the logistics and everything it means keeps threatening to drag me down, but I want to spend at least a little while longer feeling the accomplishment. I’ve actually got a publisher on board!”

Taylor took his hand and grasped it tight. She understood. Nothing was ever easy so long as La Huerta and everything that came with it remained prominent in their lives; they wouldn’t change it for the world, so they just made space for that complication, that emotional upheaval.

“The ins and outs you’ll work out. We’ll work out, because the cheer squad isn’t going to leave you high and dry, not for anything. You’re right to want to bask in this-- it’s huge.”

“Yeah, huge is the word.”

Editors, schedules, marketing, interviews… it was a world away from what Diego’s life was now. Did he even know how to fit in outside La Huerta? He could barely manage such a feat before that fateful summer vacation.

“We’ll be behind you, all the way,” Taylor said firmly. She looked out at the sea. It would be hard to leave this place; even harder for Diego, who could not do so with his partner, his soulmate, at his side. “And you know… we have a pilot on Catalyst International’s books. I’m not saying we could get you home in a jiffy or anything, but you’d just have to say the word.”

Diego gave a dry chuckle. “A private plane? What happened to CI’s environmental consciousness?” he ribbed.

“Oh, don’t you worry. We’ll plant more than enough trees to cover your footprint. You know how much Estela likes throwing money at trees. And you, actually. Consider us investors.”

She knew it took a lot for Diego not to protest. Accepting tangible support and backing was uncomfortable, but with his Catalyst family, a helping hand could be taken. He knew well enough he’d do the same for any of them in a heartbeat.

Diego met Taylor’s eye, and smiled at her. “Okay. I’ll take it; I’m not too proud.”

Taylor smiled back, and exhaled contentedly, allowing herself to just enjoy what she had. This beautiful place in the world where she belonged, her best friend beside her, out in their pyjamas beneath a million twinkling stars.

Two Hours to Midnight

“What do you think? I thought you might like this one.”

In all honesty, fractal art was not Estela’s cup of tea. Some of the pieces were admittedly striking to look at, and she admired the depth of skill and knowledge that went into them, but it was hard to connect to them emotionally.

This one gave her pause. The eerie familiarity of the colours and shapes. For a few moments, Estela was uncertain whether she liked it a lot, or hated it.

“How did you do it, Grace?” she asked, transfixed. This wasn’t just plain old shapes and patterns, this was a journey through the fabric of time and space.

“A lot of experimentation,” Grace replied, her features lighting up at the response she’d gotten. She’d always felt her sister-in-law’s genuine support, but she’d never really reacted much to any of the pieces before. “It felt as though I was on a journey through another plane… just like when we sought the Heart.”

“It’s got… the feel of it. Huh.” Estela shook her head, finding herself getting caught up. “I’ll have a copy of that one off you. I-- if that’s okay.”

Grace laughed gently and hugged her. “Of course. The offer has always been there. Maybe you and Taylor can help me think of what to call it. I think this one needs a meaningful title.”

She paused, taking measure of her companion.

“I’ve been meaning to ask how you’re doing,” Grace said. “I know it’s not always easy.”

Estela took a moment to take stock of herself, to give an honest answer. She’d shed a few tears earlier, but it had been a good night. Dinner with her family was usually a good time, and the kids had their way of keeping her busy enough that she couldn’t dwell on sad anniversaries. She’d indulged Aleister a little bit of shop talk; one of the hopes they shared for the next year was to work out an effective way to invest in San Trobida’s education system-- and bring them closer to offloading the vast bulk of their inherited riches. Diego and Varyyn had been good company; full of the joys as was usually the case when it came to the anniversary of their first kiss. Taylor was in her element, laughing the night away between quite moments of connection with her friends, and Liv… well, she just lapped up the attention. Estela felt… content.

“I’m fine,” she said at last. “New Years is always… everything all at once. Kind of like how that makes me feel.” She nodded toward Grace’s fractal masterpiece. “Everything that’s good, it all stands out more because it’s set against pain and sadness.”

Estela blushed a little at Grace’s thoughtful gaze upon her. You know, ‘fine, thanks’ would have been enough.

“The shadows give the light significance,” Grace observed.

“Yeah…,” said Estela quietly. She didn’t really want to talk on it anymore. She’d done her hurting and moved into a place of peace, at least as far as this new year was concerned.

“Do you… do you have plans for this year? I guess your exhibition is huge….”

Grace smiled broadly. “It really is! I’m excited, but it’s daunting with Reggie to consider. I’ve set myself the goal of reading more; personal learning is something that’s fallen by the wayside-- especially with the sleep regressions we’ve been having. But I need to learn to make ‘me’ time, even if it’ll take work to train myself that I deserve it.”

“Just takes practice like anything else,” Estela commented. She knew self-love wasn’t something that came easily for Grace, but she’d already come so far in treating herself better.

“We’re back!” came a call from the other room. Diego. It had struck Estela as excessive that he’d felt the need to traipse all the way to Elyys’tel to put on his pyjamas if the actual goal was to unwind. Perhaps he’d just wanted the feel of a late-night adventure, even for something so mundane.

The group gathered together again in Aleister and Grace’s lounge, Estela having brought Taylor into a cuddle half-perched on her lap, while Diego had settled on the rug while Varyyn lovingly played with his hair from behind. It was cosy. Estela was certain she preferred this to the more extravagant celebrations had with a larger group; she was probably never going to be a big party person.

Diego left the room briefly before enthusiastically placing down a casette-style box on the coffee table. “Blockbuster time! We’ve gotta split into two teams--”

“You don’t mind if Grace and I hop onto your side?” Aleister piped up swiftly. “I’ve always had better things to do with my life than stare slack-jawed at a screen, and you-- er, balance out the gaps in my knowledge.”

So, the group split. Estela imagined that she, Taylor and Varyyn might have an uphill battle on their hands to best Diego at Blockbuster: The Game.

Taylor cracked her knuckles. “All right, Diego. You and me for the first head-to-head? You might have written the book on this stuff, but I’m not going down easy!”

One Hour to Midnight

“Well,” Aleister said, passing Grace a steaming mug of cocoa, “it wasn’t my favourite game, but I think we performed admirably.”

She chuckled. “In no small part due to Diego!”

Aleister had a mind to add ‘and Estela’s being useless at charades’ but made the choice to be nice. Instead, he snuggled up to his beloved wife and took a sip of his drink.

It was an odd sort of family they had, but nowadays… he wouldn’t change a single part of that messy tapestry for the world. Estela had long been a challenge for him. That belligerence, Aleister had come to realise, had actually been a gift, holding him accountable as he took over Rourke International and their father’s estate. Estela didn’t mince her words, and he’d come to respect that about her.

But no… she was no good at charades. Both Estela and Taylor were all but crashed out on the other couch, surely feeling the late night. Late nights were something parents of toddlers were not best equipped for.

Aleister yawned widely. “Heavens-- is it just me, or does midnight feel later every year? I can barely keep my eyes open.”

A soft smile on her face, Grace nuzzled against his cheek. “Just hold out a little longer, sugar. We don’t want our guests to have to carry us to bed!”

Oh, the indignity. No. They couldn’t have that.

Still, he let himself close his eyes to the feel of Grace, warm against him. Another year, side by side. It had been New Year’s the first time they made love, hiding out from a looming enemy. How things had changed…. Aleister had been so afraid back then, barely trusting himself to believe in the friendships he was forming. He came so close to squandering them, to losing Grace, all because fear made him a lesser man. Grace had always been different, though; she was downright courageous. Possibly even more scared than he was, and yet she faced every challenge head-on, and with a kind and open heart. Without her, would he have been brave enough to embrace such qualities in himself? He doubted it. Grace believed in him then as she believed in him now, and it turned his world around.

“Is it next year ye-e-e-e-et?” came the ominous sound of a toddler’s voice. Reginald, awake.

Aleister groaned out loud. “There’s no peace for the wicked, is there?”

Diego sighed sympathetically. “Reggie’s Hot-Cocoa Sense must be tingling!”

And then--

“Maaamaaaaa--”

“Welp, there’s the other one!” Diego laughed.

“Oh, god, Liv!” Taylor grunted, hauling herself from the couch. “I’ll get her. See if I can settle Reggie as well.”

She was, however, unsuccessful, and the gang were joined by Reginald and Liv for the scheduled group call.

“Happy birthday, Michelle!” they all chorused-- except for Liv, who lacked the vocabulary.

Michelle beamed. “Thank you. Apparently, doing the call before midnight is the key to not getting forgotten.”

“Jeez, one time,” Craig muttered. “And I forgot Taylor, and she was actually on that day!”

“Are we going to all count down together?” Quinn asked eagerly. “It’ll be almost like old times.”

Jake snorted. “What, and I’ll just awkwardly hang around watching when y’all are making out at midnight? Sounds fun. Really.”

“Hey,” said Taylor, grinning, “Liv will blow you a kiss, I’m sure. No one’s allowed to feel unloved.”

“Still… hard pass.”

Group video calls, Aleister had long since decided, were vastly overrated. The more domineering, outgoing personalities always took over, and those who didn’t fancy crowding around a screen were unintentionally edged out. Not Reginald, though. He was on Taylor’s lap, which was to say, in the thick of things.

“Happy birthday, ‘Chelle!” Reggie said again, for birthdays were a subject he knew enough about to confidently converse. “What’s you?”

Grace was on hand as translator. “He’s asking what number you turned today. What age are you?”

“Oh-- thanks Grace! I need to brush up my ‘toddler-ese’. I’m twenty-nine today, Reg! The same number as Daddy, I’m pretty sure.”

“Wow!” came the awed reply, as if Michelle had just told him that she was some ancient being from the dawn of time. “I’m two.”

“Being two is the best,” Raj gushed. “Make sure you live it up, dudeling.”

“I’m not ‘dudeling’, I’m Reggie!”

Aleister couldn’t help but smile. That’s my boy. More than that… Reggie was confident, even for a naturally shy boy, knowing he’d be listened to. Their odd little family could only ever raise him up. Perhaps, he thought, they’d ensure this coming year allowed more opportunities for Reggie to connect with this village; surely, Quinn and Michelle’s wedding would be the perfect excuse. By Reggie’s age, Aleister was already a lonely child, unloved and barely wanted; it would not be a repeated cycle, of that he was sure.

Countdown

Varyyn’s heartbeat quickened. He could read Diego like a book; how much this meant to him. Just a moment, commemorating another moment, but that was the moment that changed everything. Varyyn could see Diego swallow hard, nervous anticipation, exhilaration. It could be that night under the dancing lights all over again. How marvellous to have such vulnerability, to be laid bare and offer oneself in tenderness.

“It always feels important,” Diego said quietly. “I don’t want to ever not appreciate it, appreciate you.”

“Knowing you, I do not believe it is even possible.

“So, uh, happy seven years.”

“Variego forever!”

Diego giggled helplessly, but pulled himself together as Grace began the count-- with little Reginald counting down along with her.

“Ten, nine, eight….”

Liv passed out in her arms, Taylor leaned expectantly toward Estela, beside her on the couch. She mouthed an ‘I love you’, and the smile in return told her it had been heard.

“...seven, six….” Estela joined in. She shuffled even closer, so she could see every faint freckle on smattering the bridge of Taylor’s nose.

“...five, four, three….”

Watching his little boy count down the numbers on his mother’s fingers, Aleister could feel his heart swell dangerously. It was the little moments that mattered. He looked over to Taylor and Estela, whispering in the New Year so as to not wake Liv, who appeared misleadingly angelic in slumber. Then to Diego and Varyyn, who had eyes only for one another; it was their anniversary after all.

He met Grace’s eye. Lovely beyond words, bright in every sense.

“...two, one….”

“Happy New Year!” came the whispered chorus, which gave way to quiet. Varyyn cupped Diego’s smiling face and drew him into a tender kiss, which deepened as they lingered there. Estela kissed Taylor softly, gentle as necessary to not disturb the sleeping baby, then went in for another-- one for Taylor’s birthday.

“Kissy-kissy-kissy!” Reggie chortled, looking up at his parents, and watching as his father immediately flushed pink.

“Don’t mind if I do!” Grace jumped up on her tippy-toes and gave Aleister a smooch. “Happy New Year, sweetheart!”

And he had to laugh, affection bubbling up within him. He kissed Grace again, while at their feet, Reggie loudly asked why it was still dark if it was tomorrow.

“Because, my little love,” Aleister replied, “it is so very early in the morning that it is still night. And I think it’s about time we were all off to bed.” He held out his hand to his little son, then led him across the room so he could offer his other hand to Estela, who took Taylor’s hand, who took Diego’s, who took Varyyn’s, who took Grace-- completing the circle with the yawning Reggie.

Quietly, Aleister began to sing. “Should old acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind?”

The squeeze of his sister’s fingers and the knowing smile meant much. This occasion was, to her, one of hurt, but she allowed it to be something different. Something hopeful. For all of them, a year up ahead could be faced with courage and optimism, hand in hand.

“Should old acquaintance be forgot, In the days of old lang syne?”

[backmygirlhood]

trying to get people that aren't boomers into spatort isn't easy. brauche leute mit denen ich das irl gucken kann außer meiner mutter

[the-thorster]

LemonSoda e Girasoli

Als es irgendwann klingelt, weiß Adam schon, dass es seine Mutter ist, ohne zu fragen. Er weiß, dass es 21:55 ist, ohne auf seine Armbanduhr zu schauen. Und er weiß, dass Leo genauso wenig will, dass er geht, ohne ein Wort zu sagen. „Ciao“, sagen Leos lila Lippen. „Ciao“, sagt Adam, und hat es plötzlich doch ein bisschen eilig, seiner Mutter zu folgen. Die Schürks machen Urlaub. Die Hölzers betreiben einen Ferienhof, der nach den Sonnenblumenfeldern benannt ist, die ihn umgeben. Zwei Wochen Sonne, Limonade und Radfahren. Und zwei Jungs, die sich finden, ohne überhaupt gesucht zu haben. 🌻 🇮🇹 🍋

Wörter: 41,329 Kapitel: 12 Tags/Tropes: Teen Romance, First Love, First Kiss, Sommerurlaub, Italien, Mid-2000s, Fluff, Light Angst, Slow Burn (naja as slow as zwei Wochen Urlaub sein können halt), Sharing Cigarettes, Halbitaliener Leo, Sad Boy Adam, Die Italienische Landschaft Is A Paid Actor (und die Limo erst)

🌻 Auf AO3 lesen

🌻 Playlist

[catbox730]

my Soundwave design for my astronaut AU

[terriblyrenderedenigma]

The Coveted Star

(A/n: This is my first little attempt at a little transformers blurb of Megatron x OC/Self insert who will be greatly elaborated upon in later posts. Just thought id dip my toes in the water here.)

Tags: Nonspecific Transformers continuity (As of current at least, leaning towards TFA, or maybe changing context and interaction before going earthspark) Description: Megatron trying to persuade a human turned unaffiliated bot into joining the Decepticons. Word Count: 637 Warnings: Probably ooc Megatron x Fem oc/self-insert; Probably confusing lore but will have an oc lore dump post laterrr; brief corpse mention but not serious; Religious Imagery - hell mention; slight xenophobia; eye strain because colored text; probably poor use of cybertronian anatomy

“Look at you! A great star in the sky among walking corpses with withering souls! You hold amazing power… it would be such a waste for you not to use it…” The dirtied grey mech held out his servo in offering to Aquarion, his broad digits scratched and deeply scarred from decades of fighting, of war. The sleek femme’s purple optics moved with trepidation from the dark flat palm of his servo, flitting across his dented plating until their optics met.

The crimson glow of his optics burned like the fires of hell that made old historians writhe in their sleep before vomiting their horrors onto withered pages in striking raven ink. If his passion was inferno, he burnt like the lake of fire he'd be condemned to for the sins he held heavy servo'd against his fellow kin. Palms bathed in enough energon alone to rejuvenate his dead and broken home...

“I cannot take a place at your side…” Aquarion’s soft tone breaks with static, vocalizer quickly correcting as she vents a heavy puff of steam. White plating shone like freshly fallen snow, violet bio-lights peeking out between the crevasses, the breaks in her armor.

Her frame ran hot. Wiring burning with unease much like the nerves that used to sting her once human flesh with sensations deeper than this by tenfold. “To take up my burdens and follow you would be to turn my back on the people that I used to be a part of.” As the words left her, a frown wormed its way across her faceplate.

“Used to. Have you not experienced the hateful gazes? The fear and scrutiny in their fleshy eyes as they look up at the form that has consumed you. Changed you-" The leader of the Decepticons arms swing out dramatically, gesturing to the femme in all her new glory. The body that held her conscious was strong and sturdy, powerful, volatile, capable! It would kill Megatron to see the potential in her circuits wasted on neutrality -- or worse, the Autobots. "-Named you Aquarion and chose you out of all your kind for a higher purpose! This is a gift... You are no longer one of them! You are one of us!” Megatron demands, the deep timbre of his voice echoing not only within the gears of his own chassis, but hers as well. There’s an echo of desperation, an anticipation to make her understand that things are not the same anymore, her life is no longer what it was and never will be again.

No longer human, but hot blooded cybertronian... "I can't-"

"Take my hand!" Megatron demands harshly now, thrusting his servo forward once more at her continued hesitance, the swift movement of his hand towards her making her massive wings flare in a defensive stir. "Take my hand, and I will show you greatness you've never known! Teach you who you were meant to be..." The roughness of his vocalizer tapering off into a tender request.

Why did he persist so strongly? Demand so insistently that she follow him? Go with him into the deep dark night into even more mystery?What fears would she have to conquer as her palm fit smoothly within his own?

What manipulation, scheming, plotting would she be forced to be a part of? The decepticons certainly weren't the kindest or truthful of all beings. But Megatron their great leader, strong, dangerous, downright terrifying to any normal human... Stood face to face with her and-

"Please."

His pleading, set in motives unknown sent her over. Aquarion relents and takes his servo firmly and without another thought.

"Alright then... why don't you show me what I can do?"

Aquarion knew not what path this choice would lead her, but she was sure of one thing. This was going to end terribly.

[falleraatje]

Wir haben alle unterschiedliche Methoden, mit der Wahl und ihren Ergebnissen umzugehen. Das hier ist meine:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63341842

[Ein Schoethe Wahlhelfer AU]

Friedrich fummelt ungeschickt mit den Stimmzetteln herum, von denen er Johann Wolfgang von Goethe jetzt eigentlich einen aushändigen müsste. Wenn seine Finger nicht ganz so sehr zittern würden und wenn er sich innerlich nicht gerade in Grund und Boden dafür schämen würde, dass seine erste Interaktion mit seinem schriftstellerischen Idol ausgerechnet so abgelaufen ist.

So hatte Friedrich sich das alles nicht vorgestellt. Aber es passt wahrscheinlich zum Rest seines Lebens, dass er Goethe niemals so begegnen wird, wie er es sich manchmal heimlich ausgemalt hat, sondern stattdessen an einem grauen Sonntag in der Sporthalle, wo Goethe ihn einfach so stehen lassen kann, nachdem er in der Wahlkabine seine Kreuzchen gesetzt hat.

[superconfusedcoryn]

Btw die Mainzelmännchen sind doch 100% alle gay, was anderes könnte ihr mir doch nicht erzählen