#every time i see this frame i’m like who tf is that

[webgottism]

he has way too much forehead here its unsettling

[starimusprime]

Caught

An OpLita fanfic 💜

Word count: 2,432 Continuity: TF: One

Summary: Optimus takes Elita to see the Hall of Records. They kiss. They kiss a lot.

❗️CONTAINS BIG TF ONE SPOILERS❗️

As the two walk with languid strides through the lit archives of the Hall of Records, Optimus occasionally stops to point out his favorite sections or where he had almost been caught by the guards when he was Orion.

     They round a corner and he pauses, glancing back at Elita with a soft chuckle as he gestures to a bot-sized grate at the end of the aisle of shelves.

     “The last time I came here, I busted through that grate with a security drone in my servos and almost died.”

     "I remember hearing about that incident," Elita says. "You were always one for the dramatic exits, Orion."

     “Hah. And entrances,” he adds.

     A soft smile graces his face as he recalls who he had been not even a quartex ago. Hearing his old name…it doesn’t feel like it’s no longer his name. He’s still getting used to being called Optimus, not to mention Prime.

     "And how many times did D-16 have to bail you out of trouble?" she asks playfully, walking closer to him.

     He stops mid-stride, his gaze falling to the floor. He takes a deep breath.

     “Please, Elita,” he says quietly. “I don’t want to talk about D…”

     She steps closer and places a gentle servo on his arm. “I’m sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned him... Are you okay?"

     Optimus vents. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts.

     “No,” he admits. He then looks at her with a gentle smile. “But I will be.”

     Elita nods understandingly, her optics softening. "Let's talk about something else, then."

     He nods back. His optics return to their usual brightness and he beckons her to follow him down one of the aisles. They come to a junction with a holovid table in the center. He walks over to a shelf and picks up a holovid drive, blowing the dust off of it as he returns to the table.

     “This is an old favorite of mine,” the Prime explains before gently inserting it into the table’s drive slot.

     Elita watches with curiosity as he activates the table, a holographic projection springing to life in the air above it. The image is grainy but powerful:  two colossal figures locked in combat, one radiant with light, the other shrouded in shadow.

     A narrator’s voice emanates from the table, recounting the legendary tale as the projections of Primus the Creator and Unicron the Destroyer fight each other. Unicron desired full power over the universe, while Primus believed that balance was essential. Optimus’ optics glow a little brighter as he allows himself to be immersed in the story of Primus becoming Cybertron.

     Elita watches the ancient battle play out in awe. The story is told to every Cybertronian when they are forged, so she knows the tale by spark, but there is something about seeing it play out before her that makes her spark thrum stronger. She glances at Optimus, his new, yet familiar frame reflecting the light from the holographic projection.

     The holovid comes to an end and he removes it from the play slot.

     “I would always watch it when I saw it,” he says as he returns it to its shelf. “It gave me great inspiration for what I still believe in.”

     "The balance," she agrees, nodding her helm slightly. "You've always had a strong sense of justice."

     Optimus turns to her with a gentle smile. “Yes…although, it seems it’s too strong for my own good sometimes.”

     "I think it's your biggest strength," Elita says, her optics searching his. "And it's what makes you a great leader."

     His optics widen slightly and his smile fades. “But I’ve only been Prime for a quartex… I still have so much to learn about what makes a good leader.”

     She steps closer, her servo resting gently on his arm. “You’re doing great, Optimus. You’re still the same Orion I knew, just with a little extra wisdom now. And a really cool new name.”

     Her touch is unexpectedly soothing, but Optimus shies away from her optics. He can feel his spark thrumming in his chassis, threatening to remind him of the sight of D-16's enraged face when he took the killing blow for Sentinel Prime.

     “Thank you… You have also done well as my commander so far. I'm glad I chose you to be by my side."

     "You've always had a knack for making the right decisions, even if you do execute them in stupid ways sometimes," Elita says with a playful smile. She takes a step back to give him space. "But tell me, how are you really feeling? This is a lot to handle in such a short amount of time."

     He shakes his helm. “I am recovering. Slowly, but…I am. My frame still aches from the reformat, but it’s getting better.”

     She looks at him with concern. “And…emotionally?”

     He vents and shifts his weight on his peds. “I’d really prefer not to talk about it right now. I’m sorry.”

     "You don't have to be sorry," Elita says softly. "We all have our burdens. I just want you to know I’m here if you ever want to share yours."

     He nods, his smile returning. “Thank you. I do appreciate it.”

     They resume walking through the archives, Optimus leading Elita through the maze with such efficiency that one might have thought he had worked there.

     As they stroll, Elita can’t help but notice how the light from the archives' dim lights dances across the Prime’s red and blue armor.

     “So, uh," she says with a teasing lilt, "have you ever been in love?”

     He nearly trips on his own ped. His battle mask snaps over his lower face, and it takes him a second to realize it’s his new frame’s automatic response to his own face heating up. He tries his best not to show that her question has caught him off-guard, but he isn’t confident that it works.

     “Uh…um…no, I don’t think I’ve been in love…before.”

     Elita’s smile widens, and she lets out a light laugh. “Oh, come on, Optimus. Surely a scrappy mech like you had at least one lover?”

     She playfully nudges his servo with her own, her armor brushing against his.

     Optimus feels his blush deepen and he tilts his helm up slightly, trying to hide it from her prying optics. “No, I…I’ve never had that. No one ever found me attractive in that way.”

     She chuckles lightly, her optic sparkling with mischief. "I find that hard to believe. You've always had a certain charm to you, even as the annoying, foolhardy miner you were. And now, as Prime, some say you’re quite the optic candy."

     His engine sputters at that and he stops, looking down at her with wide optics. “Wh…what?”

     Elita laughs. “You really don’t know, do you?”

     He’s quiet for a long moment. He shakes his helm, his spark thrumming hard in his chassis.

     “Don’t know what?”

     She steps closer to him, her gaze unwavering. “The way you blush so adorably when you’re flustered. It’s charming, really."

     Static gets caught in his vocalizer and he resets it, offering a nervous smile that he forgets she can’t see with his mask in the way. “You really…think I’m charming? You aren’t just trying to make me feel better?”

     Her optics widen, then glow brighter with adoration. She brings her servo up to gently stroke the side of Optimus’ smooth, angular battle mask.

     "I wouldn't say something like that unless I meant it," she says gently.

     “Elita…I…” He takes a deep breath, then wills his battle mask to disengage. It retracts with a series of clicks, fully revealing the soft blue glow under his optics. “I don’t know what to say. I…I never thought this would be…mutual…”

     "I know we've both been through a lot lately, but I think we could use a moment to just...be ourselves." She reaches up to caress his cheek with her servo. "I've had feelings for you for a little while now."

     His spark skips a thrum. “…you have?”

     Elita nods, her gaze locked with his. “I have. Since before your transformation. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

     Optimus finally lets his optics meet hers again. After a long, tense moment of silence, he slowly lifts his own servo, hesitantly sliding his digits up her jaw. His servo stops at the side of her neck, just under her audio receptor.

     “Elita…”

    She leans into his touch. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but I needed you to know how I feel.”

     He lets out a shaky breath. So much has happened in quick succession over the past two quartex, but this…this is all he can focus on. It’s time.

     “I have been in love with you since the solar cycle you became my mining captain, Elita,” he confesses quietly.

     She stands frozen for a moment, processing his words. Then she leans in, her servo sliding behind his neck to pull him closer.

     He feels her warmth as she presses into him, his spark fluttering and engine purring. This is what Orion had always hoped for, but he had never dared to believe it could ever be real. He lets her pull him down to her, his own servos trembling as he cups her helm and tilts his. Optics closed, he gently kisses her lips, ever cautious with this act that's so brand new to him.

     Elita’ optics close and she kisses him back just as gently. Her servo slides from his neck to his back, drawing him closer as she melts into his tender embrace.

     His servo lingers at the side of her neck, feeling the quick pulse of her spark in her fuel line as he kisses her more deeply. His other servo drifts downward and he wraps his arm around her waist, holding her close as if he's afraid she might vanish into thin air.

     Elita's other servo moves to the side of his face, her thumb brushing against his cheek. His inexperience is palpable, but the way he holds her, the urgency in his kiss, speaks volumes.

      Optimus pulls away just enough to breathe out, “I’ve wanted you for so long,” then kisses her more passionately, leaning into her.

     Elita giggles softly at his eagerness, reaching her servo up to gently caress one of the two finials on his helm, her touch light and exploratory.

     The sudden contact on his finial makes him jerk his helm away with a gasp.

     “Oh, careful…” Optimus chuckles sheepishly as he tentatively rubs his overstimulated finial. “Sorry. These are still quite sensitive…”

     She pulls back, looking slightly apologetic, but her gaze lingers on the prominent new pieces on his helm.

     "They're cute," Elita purrs.

     His blush deepens at the compliment and he smiles, shyly lowering his helm back down toward hers with a nod.

     “It’s okay, you can touch them. I was just…startled.”

     She laughs softly, a warm sound that fills the coldly lit metal hallway. "You're so cute when you're flustered."

     She leans in and places a gentle kiss on his finial, pulling back with a curious glint in her optics.

     The Prime’s optics widen at the unexpected gesture. He smiles at her, his engine purring from the gentle contact.

     “What was that for?”

     "They're part of you now,” she says. “I just wanted to...welcome them."

     Optimus chuckles softly. “I’m sure my finials appreciate your welcome.”

     He pauses, his processor lagging with the reality of the situation. Him…Elita…in the Hall of Records…alone. Flirting. Kissing. It sounds fictitious.

     He resets his vocalizer again and quietly asks, “May I…kiss you more?”

     She grins and nods, leaning into him as her engine purrs louder. “Please do.”

     With a low rumble in his chassis, he wraps his arms around her waist and leans in to kiss her again. This time, a little more familiar with the act, he’s regained some of his old Orion Pax confidence. He kisses her deeply, pressing against her until her back meets one of the shelving units. The datapads on the shelves rattle from the light impact and one clatters to the floor, but he simply nudges it out of the way with his ped.

     Elita giggles at the way he keeps his attention on her. She wraps her arms around his neck, her digits tracing the subtle grooves in his helm.

     “Orion...” she purrs softly between kisses.

     Optimus feels alive in a way he never has in his life. Not when he was mining. Not when he was scaling buildings. Not when he was sliding down them. Not when he was getting caught by the authorities. Nothing compares to Elita.

     The weight of his new title feels momentarily lifted as he’s just Orion again, finally holding the femme he’s always loved. His servos trace the smooth contours of her armor, savoring every inch of her, as his kisses grow bolder.

     Elita cautiously begins to run her servos over his chassis, exploring his new form with an eager yet respectful curiosity.

     The Prime feels a warmth spread through his entire being as Elita’s servos caress his new frame. For a moment, he’s lost in the feeling of her against him, the scent of her armor, the soft sounds of their servos sliding over each other’s armor.

     The clearing of a vocalizer snaps Optimus into fight or flight, his powerful engine revving and armor flaring as he turns away from Elita. It’s Jazz, the smaller silver and black bot leaning against the wall with a slag-eating grin on his face. Optimus’ thoughts scatter.

     "Jazz," he stammers, "I...uh...we were...just...inspecting the archives for any signs of structural damage. Yes."

     Elita's laughter rings through the hallway, a light, melodious sound that fills the space with warmth. She steps back from Optimus, her own cheeks a soft shade of blue.

     "Okay, you caught us," she says, her voice playfully chiding. "Couldn't you see we were busy?"

     She crosses her servos in front of her chassis, trying to compose herself. She glances at Optimus, the amusement in her gaze purely affectionate. The sight of his flustered state is adorable and somehow comforting, reminding her of the Orion she knew before he became Prime.

     "Ah, I see. Structural inspection, huh?" Jazz winks at Elita, his optics shifting between the two of them. "I can't say I've ever tried that particular method before, but to each their own, right? But, as delightful as this is, Prime, we do have some serious business to attend to."

     Jazz holds up a data pad, at which Optimus lets out a heavy vent before gesturing for Jazz to enlighten them.

[masonmovnt]

getting your header text from Mason & endless cuddles & specifically him with his longer hair 🥺🥺🥺 could you blurb this if you’re inspired please (if not let’s talk ab cuddly bf tys)

listen here

I’m always down to talk about Mason, so please do me a favour and never hesitate to spam tf out of my ask. I could talk or write about him all day 👀

-

Your eyes glimmering with the reflection of the phone that was in your hands, letting the colour of your irises stand out in the completely dark room.

What could he possibly be texting me about? He’s on the other side of the couch, you thought.

It was one of those nights where you and Mason didn’t know what to do, so you both decided not to stress about thinking of ideas and just stay home. Even though you both loved going different places with eachother, there was just a warm feeling that resonated with you both when you spent quality time at home. Whether you both were cooking dinner together or just lounging around the house, you both loved it because you were just spending alone time with eachother. Something you guys could never get tired of doing.

Tonight Mason and you decided it was long overdue for a movie night, finding it hard to believe that’s it’s been over a month since you two sat down together and endulged in a movie you both had been dying to see. You had your back leaning against the armrest, and your legs sprawled out along the couch, your feet landing on Mason’s lap. He sat normally with his back against the couch, his feet planted on the floor and his hands resting at his lap, on top of your feet. Even being a few feet away from you, Mason still found a way to have his hands attached to your body, one of his favourite things in the world.

You quickly opened up your phone, letting it unlock before opening up your text messages between the two of you.

You gaze up at Mason and clear your throat loud enough for him to hear you over the movie, letting him know you were trying to get his attention. He swiftly moved his head to the side, lifting up the remote in his hand to pause the movie, before glancing back at you.

“What’s up babes?” He stared at you, giving you his full attention.

With the light bouncing off of the television and onto his face, you could see every crevice and outline of his face. The soft brown locks that sit atop of his head are messily framing his face, pointing in every direction. His lips forming into a slight smile, something only you really noticed recently, catching on that everytime he directed his eyes in your direction, he would insanely smile without even knowing he was.

“Really? You’re asking me what’s up?” You smirked at him, shoving your foot into his side slightly, causing him to grab it before you tickled him even more. “You’re the one who texted me to make out like a teenager.”

“Oh yeah,” he paused, a full grin now replacing the slight smile he had just seconds prior. “Took you long enough to see the text. I sent that like 10 minutes into the movie.”

“Yeah yeah,” you said. “You know you could have just asked me to come cuddle against you instead of texting me. You know how bad I am at checking my phone.”

“And if you checked your phone regularly, your body would be on top of mine and we’d be making out,” he huffed. “But of course your not like the rest of us and can actually ignore you phone.”

“So it’s my fault now?”

“Of course it is babes,” he lifted his hand, reaching out for you until he laced his fingers around yours. “Now get your cute ass over here so we can cuddle and make out, and then have to rewatch the entire movie over again because you distracted me.”

You rolled your eyes slightly, a grin forming on your face, “Always blaming me Mase. Always blaming me.”

[insom-nom-nom-niatic]

I see you write Troy Otto Fics 🫣

“you fixed me. you fixed my broken heart.”

could I request a angst turned fluffy fic where Troy is being an ass but around reader he’s an awkward ass bc he doesn’t know how to process his feelings but one day reader confronts him and is like “dude tf” and he reveals it all ? 👉🏽👈🏽

It has been quite a while since I have done any requests and succeeded in actually writing them, so first of all THANK YOU. And secondly, this terrified me so I'm sorry if I changed a few things because that's how my head works.

CHARACTERS: Troy Otto x Female Reader

WARNINGS: Normal FTWD stuff. FEELS!

Everyone within a few miles distance could have heard the yelling coming from the militia tent. No one could tell who had started it when the ruckus had suddenly erupted moments ago. All you could tell was that the boys were finally fighting back at Troy, making your feet pace a little quicker and making your way across the ranch. 

When you made it to the ruckus, you noticed the eyes peeping through the windows of the outlying RVs and tents scattered around. Giving an all knowing smile to the peeping eyes, you quickly disappeared behind the tan curtains finding a group of 5 men squaring off against 2, Troy, with Nick holding Troy back. 

Your entrance was soon noticed and the group grew silent. 

“What in the holy hell is wrong with you all?” Toeing up to John who was rubbing the newly formed bruise on his jaw. Nick let go of his hold on Troy’s jacket, heading to the back of the tent with a grunting sigh, catching your gaze as he did so. 

“You have all been a bunch of children the past few days, and now this?” Turning on your heels you make eye contact with Troy. Scanning his features, you take in the red patches growing upon his cheek and jaw line before meeting his gaze once more, this time more worry and sadness laced in your eyes. “You’re going to attract every walker within miles, and if you’re all fighting eachother, who is going to fight for the rest of us?” 

All men in the tent sunk a bit in their boots, all eyes staring at the ground. Troy’s cheeks reddened, not from a sucker punch this time. You look over to Nick, a smirk turning at the corners of his lips as he stared back. 

“I’m sorry ma’am,” Cooper spoke up. “We had a disagreement. We will watch our voices.”

John scoffed loudly, his eyes shooting back up to Troy on the opposite side of you. “I think she should know. We’re done getting the shit end of everything and still getting shit on while others can skate by and get the royalty treatment.” His eyes then shifted to you, scanning your frame up and down. You could feel the hair on your neck raise at the feeling, and you could feel the way Troy shifted his weight behind you. 

“It’s not her fault,” Nick finally raised his voice. The tone sounding over this bull shit and ready for someone to lay everything out. “You’re all being a bit dramatic anyways. Troy hasn’t done shit, except be an ass as usual.” 

This earned a raised eyebrow and questioning look from Troy, standing with both hands on his hips. Everyone knew Troy was kind of an ass, that’s how he got the miltia where it is, but you had never really seen what everyone else said about him. He was typically kind and oddly gentle when you were around him. He wasn’t this “monster” you hear the ranch whispering about. 

“Troy-” you took a deep breath, your back still turned towards him with your eyes staring straight back at John. “-Say you’re sorry.”

The tent went still. No one, not even Troy, was expecting that. No one told Troy what to do other than his late father and brother, and after they had expired, no one would have ever tried. Let alone tell him to apologize. 

To everyone’s surprise, Troy spoke. 

“I’m sorry,” his voice low and grumbled through gritted teeth, but he said it. The men all shook their heads in response. Not knowing how or what to do next, they funneled out of the tent one by one. All as quiet as a mouse leaving only Troy and yourself in the space.

Turning on your heels, you lock eyes with the tall brunette. His face red and one eye growing bloodshot from what you assume was a nice hit from John. His eyes weren’t angry though… he was nervous as he tried his best to maintain the eye contact. 

“I didn’t think you would actually say it, but I’m glad you did.” Your lips turned into a gentle smile, closing the distance between you both. Your hands reached up to his face, cradling his jaw in both palms, fingers carefully brushing over the small cuts and broken capillaries in his skin. 

Troy returned the smile once he felt your warm touch. His blue eyes fluttering closed with a sense of comfort that felt so extraterrestrial to him. “Thank you for stopping us, Nick, that bastard, was close to getting his ass kicked too.” His voice cracked witha chuckle between his words. 

“Your still a ass though, Troy. You have to change that. I hear it from so many here, yet I never see it. So I know you are capable of being a gentleman, Troy Otto.” 

“If you tell me to, then I guess I have to.” Troy’s body shook with a mischievous laugh. His eyes opening to find yours once more. The closeness between you both instinctively closing little by little. “You fixed me, you know that?”

His words caught you off a little bit, making you stutter in your actions. His skin felt warm against your touch, his mere presence so close brought on a sense of safety and openness. You could have stayed like that for hours… days. It somehow felt right. 

What he spoke, however, caused a twisting feeling in your gut. 

“I was broken after everything, after everyone was gone. I was alone and hurt in so many ways,” Troy’s eyes softened. He had figured opening up to you would be impossible, his feelings always getting the best of him and taking any words he wanted to say and throwing them out the window. Bu here and now, with you like this, he was at peace. 

“I was broken and you fixed me-” His eyes fell from your own to land upon your lips, those nerves that had stopped him from saying it all previously appearing in his belly again. “-so thank you.”

You could feel his tension grow in the moment so you took matters into your own hands, raising to your tip-toes and crushing your lips to his. Years it had been since you had ever felt this feeling. Even then, it didn’t feel like this, not this strong. 

Troy was a pain in the ass. 

At times, an actual ass. 

But you were his golden key to change. 

And there was about to be a lot of it. 

[bodybeyondstories]

Just ignore it - 1

David is teaching a course on identifying and managing magical anomalies, and begins to suspect there may be a reality-warper in class. Largely because everyone's butt looks too good to believe.

2 (Next)

(btw this is inspired by one of my favorite TF stories)

“Now the point of these journals is to start recognizing energetic and temporal anomalies, better attuning yourselves to…”

I paused mid-sentence, feeling that something was off, taking a beat before I continued with the lecture. I was hoping to have some time to settle into the Fall semester before having to deal with an inevitable minor metaphysical crisis, but a reality warper a few weeks in was not what I saw coming.

Having a job that includes resolving paranormal wrinkles in spacetime seems exciting until you realize that somehow they’ve found a way to turn it into yet another 9 to 5. People often expect some sort of imposing mansion or gothic structure whenever they hear “Center of Supernatural Sciences,” but it’s actually a squat concrete block cobbled together by a regional college in the 70s. The scariest thing for visitors is figuring out how to connect to the WiFi, though if you’re rude to Seema at the front desk, she will put a hex on you and that’s just your own fault. It’s been a mainstay on this campus for decades, but for how much longer was unclear, as administration has been defunding us relentlessly for as long as I’ve been here. The university doesn’t see our value in light of its own investments in mass surveillance technology and a more ‘hard science’ study of spookiness, but the work we do is still important. Supernatural phenomena are much more common than a lot of people realize–it’s just a matter of actually paying attention–and our work is split between teaching, research, and service, addressing issues locally and regionally as they arise.

And no, we’re not magic cops. We’re not out to punish or control, fist bumping each other as we shoot silver bullets first and ask questions later. That’s archaic. We investigate, mitigate, and remediate, stepping in whenever the fabric of reality gets a little too bunched or frayed and mending as best we can.

I teach a class called “Investigating Supernatural Threats” almost every semester, which is a title that I absolutely despise–I think it’s an insult to our more than human neighbors–but the department is worried that if we change it we’ll end up losing funding to the criminal justice program, and it’s a hill I’m only willing to get bruised on. But it’s a survey of identifying and responding to paranormal, metaphysical, and magical shenanigans, so it tends to get all kinds. It’s usually a relatively small group, a smattering of grad students from occult history to crypto-zoology, museum curators and archivists needing a refresher on what to be cautious of, and often–which I’m personally delighted by–new forest rangers sent by the state’s Department of Natural Resources who are doing overnights for the first time.

But back to the issue at hand. It’s my job to stay observant across multiple temporal and dimensional planes, so I’m known for picking up on minor phenomena and patterns that at first glance may not seem significant. So around week 3, I couldn’t help but notice that most, if not all, of the men in the class had near perfect, juicy butts, yet all unique in their own ways. I was used to commanding attention with a round booty sitting pretty on my 6’1” frame, looking downright disproportionate against my lean swimmer’s build–a blessing and a curse, really–but some of them were giving me a run for my money. Which isn’t really an issue, squats are en vogue and there are plenty of male leg day enthusiasts thanks to social media trends, not that I’m complaining, but in week 4, I picked up on the fact that all of their pants fit so well. Too well. Like not just fitted but custom made for each of their unique and sizeable proportions, as if carefully crafted to emphasize and display their bubble butts. A telltale sign.

During class, I kept my extrasensory eyes and ears open, seeing if I could pick up on any novel energetic shifts. And I felt something odd. Something deep and subsonic, pressing tentatively against the borders of our reality, like a sperm whale floating up to a kayak without making a sound. I could feel an energy seeping into local space, something building to some sort of threshold, before, with a submerged *pop* that I could ‘hear’ elsewhere, it was gone. It was like nothing had happened. In fact, nothing had happened. I turned to the board to continue writing something that I had forgotten, only realizing after class had ended that I had been writing about two inches above where I had left off. I did a somatic check, quickly scanning my body from toes to head to fingertips. I felt fine, had all ten fingers, only two eyes, an ass that could stop traffic, still a strapping 6’3”. But had that been true an hour ago? Doubt was setting in.

As someone who teaches the detection and mitigation of magical fuckery, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to deal with a potential situation like this. You’d be surprised how often some horny gay warlock has a little too much fun and needs to be reined in, or someone’s chaos magic manifests without them realizing–even worse, with them fully realizing. If you’ve ever had to neutralize an entire college dorm (and a frat house to boot) you would understand why we need more funding and support in magical education, but this isn’t the time for my soap box. A mystery’s afoot.

My most important piece of advice: Just ignore it. The thing is, a reality warper is a serious matter. If you call someone out, you better come correct and prepared for anything. Even just them knowing that you know–or that you’re on the hunt–can get real messy real fast. So you have to act casual. Don’t let them know you’re on to them, and don’t let them know that you know that something is seriously off. This is why I always introduce an extended project around tracking anomalies in the fabric of spacetime, having my students keep journals of anything weird, unusual, or metaphysically wobbly. Don’t react in real time, just on paper and in private, keeping a record of things as they happen. But it seemed like whoever this was was influencing the passage of time in very subtle ways and everyone’s memories, for the most part, were adjusting accordingly. Which is why no one in class has batted an eye at the fact that the asses in this room look like they were expertly morphed to near-comical proportions. After all, what else is new? So I took a different strategy and laid a trap.

The donk on my 6’4” frame (Hmm…) was a sight to behold. All muscle with a healthy layer of padding ballooning out from my otherwise lithe form. It was leaps and bounds my best feature, had been for as long as I could remember. I was used to men staring dumbfounded in public as my cheeks swished back and forth, including my own students whenever I turned to the blackboard, pushing it out ever so slightly as I leaned forward to write, the globes of my ass encased in one of many perfectly tailored pairs of tweed slacks. I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, seeing as any pants off the rack would either be way to loose in the waist or way too tight in the glutes, risking catastrophic failure. So I got my pants carefully fitted, but the thing was, so did everyone else. All the men in the class, from muscle butts to perky, round ones, to jiggly booties and wide hips, always had expertly fitted pants without fail. So we know what the focus of the shifts was, but it seemed like it was an expert reworking of time, and with that, memory. The phenomenon of unusually juicy asses in class pinged on my paranormal radar, but mine had always been this way. Right?

The thing is, the fit of everyone’s pants wasn’t just good, it was too good. Perfect, even. Yes, I had memories of having all my slacks tailored but they fit like they had been hand sewn on a lifelike model of my bulbous glutes with millimeter scale precision, not too little and not too much. So I found a pair that I didn’t much care for and took a razor to the back seam to weaken it just so. I squeezed into my form fitting pants and made my way to campus, careful not to stress the stitches too much and too fast, waddling into the room early and looking forward to this ordeal being over. Before anyone showed up, I cast a spell of detection around the space. Not detection of magical activities, which would’ve risked tripping any alarms that my possible warper may have already had in place, not to mention the possibility of interfering chaotically with their own spell whose function I was still unsure of. It was more of an emotional and energetic heat map, tipping me off to any sudden shifts in people’s auras.

Class began like normal as I offered some further thoughts inspired by the previous week’s discussion of AI programs as a potential tool of revealing and visualizing temporal anomalies. The discipline, in order to stay relevant, had been getting into the implications of digital technologies and new media for magical phenomena, so I figured we should spend a little more time on the topic. Also I was genuinely interested in hearing people’s thoughts, albeit distracted by the ticking time bomb of my basketball buns putting catastrophic pressure on my pants as I sometimes too excitedly paced across the front of the room. 

Per usual, I could feel the crescendo of strange, unfamiliar power rubbing almost playfully along the barrier between worlds, but everyone’s auras seemed fine. There was no corresponding wave of connected energy from any one person, beyond the general simmer of erotic activation (i.e. horniness) that spiked every time I turned my back to the class. I had become familiar with the exact threshold that this power would hit before it seemingly reset everything to a new, slightly more enhanced normal, and I was counting on the regularity of that threshold with the timing of this next move.

The previous, and now continuing discussion of new media had led me to realize that the enhanced asses in the room really did look like expertly done morphs and the perfect fit of every pair of pants, no matter the material, was simply improbable. Whoever this was, whatever this was, was operating along the edges of possibility, letting fantasy seep into what we generally regard as the real (or what we think is the real). So I figured, why not use one of my favorite tropes and see what happens.

My tweed slacks were impeccable but not indestructible and as the energetic threshold was reached I just happened to drop my chalk, quickly bending down to retrieve it. The spike in erotic attention from the view of my ballooning backside paled in comparison to what followed, as the seam of my pants finally gave way, my cheeks spilling into view along with a pair of pink and purple polka dotted bikini briefs that did nothing to cover the shelf of my ass.

I played it off with my expert acting skills (this wasn’t the first time I had to feign surprise from some magical mishap), performing a practiced mixture of embarrassment and humor that I assumed the reality-shifter would expect. From the men in class was a mix of nodding in understanding and whispers of It’s even bigger than I thought and How did those pants even fit. I felt a wave of erotic energy move through the room, but there was a spike of something else in the back corner. Something sharper, a tendril of fantastical power peeking into our dimension, concentrated around Logan, who I found staring directly at me with a look of surprise and mild confusion.

I knew of Logan, he was an archivist based in the college’s paranormal artifacts collection, and I think he had signed up for my class as a refresher for methods and safety when investigating and collecting potentially powerful and chaotic objects. He was skinny all around, topping out at no more than 5’7”, his thick, hexagonal rimmed glasses sitting below a mop of bouncy curls with an undercut. He usually came in wearing a pair of loose, flowy drop crotch pants, a surprisingly bohemian look with his otherwise reserved demeanor and sensible button downs. He was demur and unassuming, not seeming like the kind of person to cause this kind of trouble. But at this point he was the only dude in class that didn’t have an absolute dump truck.

The following week, I wondered why I had even hatched that plan in the first place, seeing as I always wear a skirt over tasteful leggings. I had given up on wearing pants years ago because it was just too much of a hassle, opting instead to let the globes of my ass bounce back and forth with more freeform bottomwear. Slacks were constricting enough in the back, but I was also tired of my donkey dick being suffocated in the crotch. A blessing and a curse. It looked like a couple of the guys in class had followed suit, perched on their round glutes as they let some thick bulges snake down leggings or compression shorts.

No wonder those pants ripped, I thought. I probably haven’t worn those in–

Ah ha. Another bread crumb. And an added wrinkle. Time hadn’t been totally rewritten and my memory hadn’t been totally wiped, just altered in the most efficient way in that moment. In fact, I was still mentally very much on the case and making progress. It wasn’t the sort of loose thread that a reality warper this competent would leave, and by now they must realize that I of all people would be on to them. I began to surmise that Logan wasn’t the one pulling the strings, but was actually some sort of conduit. Maybe for a bored trickster god playing an erotic prank–which, frankly, happens much more often than you’d think.

That week, through irony or serendipity, we actually were discussing strategies for navigating the psychological and emotional games that tricksters love to play, but as the supernatural energy began building on schedule, that previous playfulness had hints of… irritation? The power was a little discordant and I could feel it somatically in a way that I hadn’t before; it seemed everyone else could too. We continued on like normal as my leggings felt fuller and tighter in the glutes, my shoes feeling uncomfortably snug as more of my ankles revealed themselves, my dick inexorably snaking its way towards my hip while staying totally soft.

This was new.  And potentially a game changer. But I, along with my students, followed the central mantra of my profession: Note it. Track it. But until you have a plan in place, just ignore it.

[sharpth1ng]

Hank Williams anon. I grew up with country music and I love certain artists tbh (Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline and Dolly Parton)and I am SO here for Billy and Patsy Cline! An uncle of mine loved Hank Williams and that was his favorite HW song, which always cracked me tf up, and I can't imagine any other country song more hilarious than that for them to hook up to, esp those lyrics "Son of a gun we'll have big fun". I am so happy it's made you laugh as well! 😌 YESSS lmao @ Billy's ego death. He would eternally cringe and Stu would never stop reminding him of it. NEVER. I find the idea of Billy suffering like this hilarious so to make it even worse for him I'm headcanoning that is Stu's dad's favorite HW song, he sings/whistles/listens to it a lot and that has definitely happened since they hooked up to it, when Billy's at Stu's, at which point his soul left his body while Stu was killing himself laughing. I can see Stu incorporating those fucking lyrics into everything too, like they'll be talking about framing Mr.Prescott for the massacre at the party and he'll be like "Goodbye, Joe, he gotta go, me oh my oh". and he loves the fact that he is the only one who can get away with doing this to Billy. lmaooo you are so right about that 91 song, Stu absolutely would. and totally with the lyrics too. Headcanons fully accepted! I can picture him either saying lyrics that sound like something he might be saying seriously when they're hooking but they sound too long/or rhyme so it takes Billy a minute, OR just flat out saying lyrics like the ones from that 91 song and Billy's like... sonofabitch (I love the idea that in the au where they live and they are still together in modern days he stillll does this and Billy will be like IT'S BEEN 30+ YRS AND YOU'RE STILL ANNOYING AS FUCK. Stu: It's been 30+ yrs and you're still down bad as fuck /smug). lmao yesss that "Stu's love language is being annoying" tag! my love language is so similar and my s.o would literally never speak to anyone else who tormented them as much as I do, so it is ridiculously easy and funny for me to picture this😌 and lmaoooo I apologize for the length of this!

No apologies necessary this is so funny anon- Also cause you brought up Dolly, another Stu song is dumb blonde.

GOD Billy at the Macher house after dinner, Mr Macher standing up after dinner to clear the table, starts fucking whistling the song

Stu:

Billy:

Also yeah I’m such a big fan of them as this old married couple, fully still behaving like teenagers with each other. Billy keeps threatening to leave and it just gets less and less convincing every time, and Stu is SO SMUG.

40 year old Stu like: Hey remember that time I got you to fuck me to my dads favourite song?

40 year old Billy like: I can’t wait to die so I never have to think about this again.

LMAO good shit anon, keep torturing the s/o with that lol shit agenda 🤙🏻

[bellewintersroe]

Heey!

I would love for you to write me a BoB-Ship :))

I'm about 5' 4" tall and have long blonde hair and blue/grey eyes.

I work in a real estate agency and speak three languages: English, French, and German.

In my free time I love to write stories, read books, dance, sing and go out with friends (a little drinking is always involved ;)) And I'm a smoker.

I am a real extrovert and open to new things. A lot of people would describe me as creative in every way. I am an absolutely chaotic person in all my life. Sometimes in my head, I'm far ahead of the conversation we are having right now.

I'm a real dreamer, but also I'm a typical Pisces. I'm sentimental and sensitive, and I love to help others with their problems, maybe even before I try to work out my own ;)

The most important thing for me is to have fun in life and my friends and family are the most important things in it. I'm a loyal friend, but I will never forget if you "betray" me.

Hope you can work something out :)

Thank you so much! x

Thank you for your request! I’m stunned cos I honestly feel like I relate to you sm as a person and a lot of your characteristics described !!

I ship you with… Floyd Talbert!!

First of all you and Floyd would literally be a beautiful couple, like oh my god, the intensity and attraction between the two of you would be instant?!

the first time he saw you would most likely be in a pub or something social seeing as you’re both very social people. He’d practically get lost in your eyes- and don’t tell anybody- but he stumbled over his words the very first time he introduced himself.

sounds very typical, but Floyd has a thing for blonde hair, just the way it cascaded down your back and framed your face- oh my god Floyd was in love.

Kinda gets portrayed as a womaniser? But seriously he’s young and attractive, of course he’s gonna find the attention fun.

but he’s fiercely loyal, like his friendship with Winter’s.

Pretty soon after he gets to know you his eyes are only focused on you. I feel like he’s deffo got a high sex drive- so be prepared.

but nah when he finds out you can speak not just two- but three different languages?! Oh my god he’s amazed, constantly would get you to teach him different languages just cos it turns him on hearing you speak it.

if you speak German to Liebgott, Tab deffo gets a little jealous cos you’re so beautiful and oh my god- Liebgott stop flirting with her in German.

can speak broken parts of German, so he shoots daggers at Liebgott who practically smirks back in his direction.

when it’s been long enough& you’re both comfortable would deffo announce you as ‘his girl’ and is soooo fucking proud to walk around with you.

His fav thing to do is take you out to soo many different places and keep an arm around your waist. Every now and then will deffo give ur butt a quick grab followed by the cheekiest smirk.

the two of you would deffo make such a chill couple? Like your bond is so so strong and there’s so much trust between you.

if you wanna go out with the girls then go ahead, wear whatever the fuck you want- he’s so fucking good for you like omg. Wouldn’t dare stop you having a good time because ew, he’s your boyfriend not your owner? Finds it weird when people are overbearing.

always there to open the front door for you when you come home from drinking- deffo would make you some kinda drunk snack (maybe he’s not the best cook but he can make a banging cheese toasty).

Would wipe your makeup off and tuck your hair out of your face- omg he’d deffo kiss your forehead too and the two of you would just be so so so fucking in love I can’t.

tells you he loves you like so often- always wants to kiss you and isn’t afraid of PDA- not too much but, he can’t stay tf away from you he’s obsessed.

flirts with you despite being together for years- always gives you the eyes and sometimes he literally pours at you to get what he wants.

Gets random bursts of energy or excitment whilst you’re reading and just launches himself on top of you?

wants to wrestle with you.

loves a play fight and sharing a cigarette after.

expect him to steal your cigarettes- the man always forgets to buy his own.

would buy you a pack in return as well as some flowers.

your conversations would be fucking everywhere, kinda like with Babe? The two of you are so chatty and other people might struggle to follow along?

Expect him to match your levels of chaos and open mindedness. Tab wants somebody he can have fun with and has 100% found that in you.

obsessed with the idea of having sex in every single state in America with you? Don’t ask me why- the two of you probably get through about 30 before your interests turn elsewhere.

Maybe when Chuck gets shot and Tab is clearly frustrated he confides in you? Literally just wraps himself around you desperate for a hug???

kinda needy when he’s had a bad day.

your sensitivity is a perfect match for him, he needs it after all the trauma he’s faced, so the fact he can be vulnerable with you and just hide his face in your neck is all he ever needs.

pls give him cuddles.

maybe tab isn’t the most sentimental? Like sometimes he might not understand it, but when you maybe surprise him with a younger picture of the pair of you for his birthday it literally makes him cry??

Cries cos he’s found such a perfect fucking partner that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you?

the honeymoon stage ending? Hell no, you sound like such a fun person Tab looks forwards to seeing you after you’ve been apart for 2 hours?

finds it sexy that u can sing and dance omg.

gives you the biggest heart eyes.

your priorities of friends and family really aligns with Tabs. You two have no trouble or disagreements in arranging plans or visiting family. The two of you thrive of socialising with who you’re closest to.

Tab wants babies and dogs with you- maybe even a farm? Tells you this fairly soon.

expect lots of baby making, thanks.

would never EVER dare disrespect or betray you. If anybody does this to you Floyd cuts them out of his life- gets angry if it’s another man getting too weird with you.

been in one or two physical fights over you? Isn’t afraid to punch somebody for you.

isn’t unreasonable for it either, the asshole probably deserved it.

gets touchy feely when he’s drunk, wants you to kiss him, sit on his lap, dance with him? He’s obsessed with you.

nope nope nope- you being a Pisces and Tab being a Virgo would be more perfect OMG. When I was researching this it was so so fitting.

You bring out a more spontaneous side of him that he didn’t realise you had- you make life fun for him, literally just what he needed.

he also maybe brings you down from day dreaming? Helps you whenever you need and literally can’t do enough for you.

stops you from daydreaming cos he literally IS a dream himself???

lots of babies and doggies eventually. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I ship you platonically with… Babe Heffron!!

This friendship is chaos central.

you and babe could talk for England. Could probably save everybody else from A LOT of awkward situations by talking your way out of it.

babe is an extremely loyal friend. Would definitely give you some of his rations just because???

Values your loyalty so much and has your back omfg.

if anybody chats one thing bad about you they’ll feel the wrath of Babe. Legit won’t speak to them for a good month because of it????

Iconic duo, seriously.

if you’re looking for fun Babe can a million percent provide that.

genuinely feels so much happy for you in anything you do.

Puts his head on your shoulder when he’s sad- Tab gets a little pouty about this.

gets protective/ worried about you during the war.

especially after he lost Julian and then Bill was wounded, he’s so so scared you’ll get taken away from him?

genuinely thinks you are THE best friend ever and he is that to you.

wants you to name one of your pets after him or some weird shit? Idk but you one up that and if you have any children name them after him.

cries at your and Tabs wedding.

you cry at his wedding.

The two of you burst out laughing in the WORST situations. In church, in prayer- you name it.

seriously friends for the rest of your lives omg let me have this

~~~~~~ nooooo I seriously had too much fun writing this, Tab is my FAV and I feel like I was writing about myself? Idk who u are but I feel like we’re the same person.

[kinocomix]

Devlog 16: capturing the magic of living indoors

The script for TSTW is around 7 scenes long so far. At the beginning every story needs time to introduce its characters, movies get away without this by structuring the plot itself around meeting the characters in some way– think about how you always hear about having to “challenge” your characters or how they “evolve”. When a story has lower stakes it can be a bit more difficult doing this without boring the reader, so I've been putting some extra care into carving out the first section. in any case…

Hopefully the title of this devlog gives off the correct vibe which is “ew how tf”. Here's one of the central ideas I want to put across in the killouette project and I'm going to illustrate it with an anecdote. Some years ago, I bought a used notebook from a bookshop. I unfortunately don’t have it on me right now to be able to share pictures of it but it looked something like this:

(this image is not the notebook, this is from google)

to clarify, this notebook is USED used, this was someone’s diary in the 40’s or something. it didn’t have anything too earth shattering– i’m not about to find some hidden treasure any time soon, however it still was really fascinating. This fascination is why a lot of stories are told in the form of  “found media”. it’s not necessarily because the narrative is trying to be passed off as legitimate, it’s because a lot of times, the way you tell a story is equally as important as the contents of the story itself. here’s an example. compare texts A and B below:

A:

the boy fell unconscious and had to be taken to the hospital. the paramedics answered his phone and told his mom.

B:

“-hey, do you know anyone by the name of [name]?

-yes, it’s my son, who is this?

-M’am, your son is currently passed out. we’re taking him to the hospital right now.”

Both of these texts say the same thing. it could even be argued that B says less because it doesn’t mention that the mom knows she’s talking to a paramedic. However, B is less boring to read because it frames it within the context of “something is happening” instead of “let me tell you that something is happening”. In games this is called immersion and it’s vital to your enjoyment of any piece of media. This is why when a story breaks the 4th wall too many times it becomes hard to be invested in its narrative. Even deadpool knows that there’s a limit to this and you’ll notice that when the authors of deadpool want you to take it seriously, they stop fucking around.

going back to the notebook i bought, you can now sort of see why the act of reading someone’s mundane thoughts is way more interesting with the right framework. This is the framework that Diary of a wimpy kid  is built around.

now I already know that I want to do this for killouette as well, but I want to dial it up a notch. Killouette is going to make her diary a fully illustrated comic, basically reenacting things panel by panel. this makes the animal designs diegetic if done correctly and gives us the chance to do something else that’s really cool, which is to have her pass her notebook around to all her friends and have them write things in it as well. So effectively, what we’re really making isn’t just a notebook, it’s an entire folder of documents and papers compiled by these kids. this could include stuff like schematics, pictures, sheet music, another smaller book, handwritten notes by people, annotations by the kids, etc. etc. 

there is an added value by deciding to give the book this treatment. First, it gets rid of the annoying “all seeing reader” element. In TSTW and Almost Home, seeing everything makes sense because the camera is meant to highlight the emotion of the scene and not spoon feed you information. think about how in this scene in Almost Home, I never actually show or tell you what happened to Adelaide in detail. You just know it from her saying something about it. I didn’t show you because it’s meant to be inferred. Here, showing more would have been spoon feeding you a sad story which I didn’t want to do. 

In contrast, I wrote an entire chapter to tell the reader that someone is afraid of being poor. The reason I did that is because I thought the scene after it where you see the same person being a jerk regarding money would be more impactful knowing the journey they took to get there. 

the second thing this decision helps with is production. As long as the end result look pretty and was made ethically, it really doesn’t matter how short the production timeline was. A comic book drawn by a child would be best done on an actual ruled notebook using whatever a child would have access to and scanned. If you’ve ever doodled comics with a big pen before, you know those don’t take much time at all. this would give more time to work on the more complex aspects of the project like making the sheet music, the pictures, putting the whole thing together… you get the idea.

now let’s go back to the title real quick. In the story, Killouette can’t leave her house (we’ll be talking about that in a later devlog). What this formatting of the book needs to do is show you the mental goings on of this child. The mantra of “show, don’t tell” applies best here. I don’t have a lot of interesting set designs to show you cause it’s just going to be the inside of her room. What I can show is the inside of her brain.

next week we’ll be tackling some of the themes.

devlog updates on tuesdays.

[spooky-pens]

Lmao if you watch the movie, your thoughts will definitely not be filled with "Scrooge is so hot" all the time, trust me 😂. His appearance is never the focus at any point of the movie and you'd have to be purposely obtuse to ignore all the hammering they do from frame one in showcasing what an absolute horrible dick bag he is (they made him in some cases even meaner, and also made his backstory different and a reference to Dicken's own childhood, making Scrooge a class traitor which doubles his guilt/makes his transformation go even even harder). He's just aesthetically more appealing to look at as a design choice but it never changes any of the core messages and themes of the movie, in fact it adds an extra layer of different conversation among the billions of other Christmas Carol adaptations by saying "hey appearances don't mean jack shit, look at this person's actions and the consequences of said actions" which I think is more nuanced/modern and a great thing to teach in a children's animated movie.

Sorry for the ramble, it's just seeing some people who get gatekeepy (yes there are Dickens dudes who are whining about how we aren't "allowed" to find this character hot, like who tf cares) and prissy in the replies/tags and people turning their noses up at the movie and choosing not to see it JUST because of this one design change making them think somehow our moralities are attached to sheer physical appearance and I have to see these takes every damn day and it gets tiring 😭

Oh I’m gonna watch it don’t you worry, I’m always a slut for a god animated retelling.

His appearance may not be the focus of the movie (it never is) but my point still stands. People are attracted to beautiful people no matter how horrible they are. Just look at Hollywood.

I AM intrigued that he may be meaner, he was pretty awful in the OG story (and the muppet one too)

I can’t believe there are Dickens Dudes and yet I’m not surprised at all. I’ve read some of the replies on this post and no one seems to care how awful he is (or was) they just want that old man D! No matter the time period thirst gets everyone.

But this is definitely going to be the version I watch this year!

[bunnys-babies]

Celebrating Your Birthday

AOT x gn!reader

warning(s): nada :)

a/n: I believe this was an anonymous request for just Jean and hc’s about celebrating his s/o’s Bday - but I’ve expanded it to a general AOT HC post for more peeps to enjoy :) - I hope you guys like!! mwah

characters: jean, eren, armin, porco, & connie

Jean

not one to necessarily go all out theatrics wise, but he definitely cares about it being meaningful

He gives you two cards every year, one to open up in front of friends and family that’s usually just a simple one that goes along with the actual gift (something very basic and probably a little silly lol)

But the second one has a handwritten note that’s a lot more personal and sentimental, definitely the kind of emotional letter that needs to be read in private for his emotional sake and yours

And you truly do get one every year

It’s about his favorite moments he’s had with you that year, his favorite moments to come, anything new he learned about you that he never wants to forget, etc. it’s honestly something he looks forward to writing you every year

Expect flowers and a little cake just for you in the evening - he doesn’t like making too big of a show of things so he waits until it’s just you too to give them to you. Or he’ll drop them off at your house in the morning as well

Dinner is also ALWAYS on him - whether it’s home made or y’all are going out, you better be sitting tf down while he treats you

And similar to the card, you usually get at least two “bigger” gifts from him

One just being a simple gift card or pair of shoes you’ve been eyeing

But the other is a little more personal; like a necklace with your’s and his own birth month flower pressed into the small pendant (very very cheesy man indeed)

Or a framed picture of what the stars looked like on the night of your first date

BASICALLY he’s a sentimental mush who is completely enamored with you point blank period <3

Eren

You get a cheesy hand made coupon every. Single. Year.

It varies from “one free hot steamy make out sesh ;)” to “one free ‘stfu eren I’m begging you”

And he has no shame - you get these in front of everyone cause he likes how embarrassed and grumpy you get when everyone starts giggling about how “silly and cute you two are”

You’d think it’s his birthday with how giddy he is all day

Like I mean allllll dayyyy

He wakes you up with the cutest little smile and messy bun (he kind of looks like a toddler who just woke up on Christmas morning - it’s very endearing so you look forward to it) and presses all kinds of kisses to your face telling you it’s your birthday like you didn’t already know

Not too big of a social media poster but he never fails to post a simple “happy birthday :)” under a pic of him giving you a kiss on the cheek while you were still in bed that morning

He gets his mom to make a big deal out of it too (as if she wouldn’t on her own) - she arranges you flowers out of her garden and makes sure to give them to you herself with a little piece of string tied around it with a little note attached

If your family is a big party thrower for your birthday you can bet your ass he’s coming with his mom and having sm fun with them and you

if they smush your face in the cake he tries really hard not to laugh but he can’t help it sowwy - makes up for it though by helping you clean up and discreetly letting you do the same to him (he likes to let you think you snuck up on him)

Armin

“Oh my goodness, is that the birthday baby?”

^ says this literally every time he sees for the first time, every year. Doesn’t matter if you find it cute, embarrassing, cringey, he WILL do it. And in a little mocking baby voice, too.

But he always gives you a hug afterwards so it’s worth it

“I got you ~something…”

^ says that too LOL

He gets you the most random shit you’d never even think to ask for but yet it’s something you want or enjoy every time

He gets very creative with the wrapping too - he’ll fill the bag with sticker flakes too as a fun surprise (and it’s purely for himself cause he has an addiction with buying stationary he doesn’t need and this is how he tells himself it’s okay)

Expect breakfast brought to you as well, doesn’t matter if you’re at home, work, class, he’s bringing you a little sweet treat cause he cant help himself

He’s very touchy and affectionate all day, more than usual, cause something about it being a special day for you just makes him all excited

Lots of handholding and little secret kisses while you’re out with your friends

All in all he’s very attentive and it’s really cute :)

Porco

Let me say this first, he has intentionally acted like he didn’t remember it was your birthday ONCE and it backfired and he felt like a complete asshole

Did he think it’d be silly to be like “hmmm is today important or something?” Yes. Did it come off that way? Not in the slightest and he’ll take it as one of his biggest regrets all the way to the grave

Moving on

He actually does really care about your birthday LOL

Even if it’s not a big deal for you he just can’t grasp it

In the most loving way, he will tell you it’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard if you were to tell him “it’s not that big of a deal Porco!”

He can’t fathom why it wouldn’t be that big of a deal - “it’s your fucking birthday so shut up and let me pamper you >:( 💝”

On top of the usual things, y’know dinner, presents, friends, family, etc. he’s really into making cute little relationship goals with you??

Like getting out a jar and putting things you want to do with each other over the next year in them on little pieces of paper

The plan is to pull them out at random over the course of the year and keep the slips of the ones you completed

But even if you do literally none of them its fun to dump them out the following year just to see what’s changed and what’s stayed the same

He’s planning for the long term always

Connie

He knows your birth time and makes sure to freak tf out when it hits and be like omg it’s ~officially your birthday 😏😌

It doesn’t matter if it’s 4 am he will call you or wake you up himself just to tell you happy birthday

One of his toxic traits honestly

If you work or have class that day he IS expecting you to skip if you don’t have it off already LOL

he won’t make you but he will be surprised you actually work

He believes that you shouldn’t have to do a damn thing on your birthday cause you’re his angel and how dare they make you actually do things.. appalling (although he doesn’t feel the same way on his own birthday - he actually gets pretty bashful when you make a big deal out of it, it’s really cute I promise)

Expect an onslaught of embarrassing photos of you to be posted online - which you’re tagged in all of them - with some embarrassing little caption like “happy birthday my little Weiner 🥺☹️”

Also if ur even a day older than him he makes sure to bring that up every year and call you a cradle snatcher - sorry not sorry

ANYWAYS

He’s also really sweet when you first see each other that day though

You get a sweet kiss on your cheek and a whisper in your ear, “happy birthday”, swaying back and forth gently with his arms around your waist

It’s a little embarrassing sometimes cause it feels so intimate if it were to happen in public, but he doesn’t let it last long enough to garner attention

Afterwards he always makes sure to give you a bone crushing hug and your “birthday punches” he said spankings once in front of his mom and he almost threw up

If you plan on drinking on your birthday too he’ll always be your designated driver for the night, making sure u get home safe and allll that good stuff <3

——————

taglist: @d1lfluvr @plutowrites @carmillous @pretty-pop-princess-hs @alonezz @venusackerman @mossygreys (if you’d like to be added just lemme know!)

[tarobytez]

disability in the Six Of Crows Duology; an analysis of Kaz Brekker, Wylan Van Eck, and the fandom’s treatment of them.

****Note: I originally wrote this for a tiktok series, which im still going to do, but i wanted to post here as well bc tumblr is major contributor to what im going to talk about

CW: ableism, filicide, abuse

In the Six of Crows duology, Leigh Bardugo delicately subverts and melds harmful disability tropes into her narrative, unpacking them in a way that I, as a disabled person, found immensely refreshing and…. just brilliant. 

But what did you all do with that? Well, you fucked it up. Instead of critically looking at the characters, y’all just chose to be ableist. 

For the next few videos paragraphs im going to unpack disability theory (largely the stuff surrounding media, for obvious reasons) and how it relates to Six Of Crows and the characterization of Kaz Brekker and Wylan Van Eck, then how, despite their brilliant writing, y’all completely overlooked the actual text and continuously revert them to ableist cariactures.

Disclaimer: 1. Shocker - i am disabled. I have also extensively researched disability theory and am very active in the disabled community. Basically, I know my shit. 2. im going to be mad in these videos this analysis. Because the way y’all have been acting has been going on for a long ass time and im fuckin sick of it. I don’t give a shit about non-disabled feelings, die mad

Firstly, I’m going to discuss Kaz, his play on the stereotypical “mean cripple” trope and how Bardugo subverts it, his cane, and disabled rage. Then, I am going to discuss Wylan, the “inspiration porn” stereotype, caregivers / parents, and the social model of disability. Finally, I will then explain the problems in the fandom from my perspective as a disabled person, largely when it comes to wylan, bc yall cant leave that boy tf alone.

Kaz Brekker

Think of a character who uses a cane (obviously not Kaz). Now, are they evil, dubiously moral, or just an asshole in general? Because nearly example I can think of is: whether it be Lots’O from Toy Story, Lucius Malfoy, or even Scrooge and Mr.Gold from Once Upon A Time all have canes (the last two even having their canes appear less and less as they become better people)

The mean/evil cripple trope is far more common than you would think. Villains with different bodies are confined to the role of “evil”. To quote TV Tropes, who I think did a brilliant job on explaining it “The first is rooted in eugenics-based ideas linking disability or other physical deformities with a "natural" predisposition towards madness, criminality, vice, etc. The Rule of Symbolism is often at work here, since a "crippled" body can be used to represent a "crippled" soul — and indeed, a disabled villain is usually put in contrast to a morally upright and physically "perfect" hero. Whether consciously on the part of the writer or not, this can reinforce cultural ideas of disability making a person inherently inferior or negative, much in the same way the Sissy Villain or Depraved Homosexual trope associate sexual and gender nonconformity with evil. ”

Our introduction to Kaz affirms this notion of him being bad or morally bankrupt, with “Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason”, etc. This mythologized version of himself, the “bastard of the barrel” actively fed into this misconception. But, as we the audience are privy to his inner thoughts, know that he is just a teenager like every other Crow. He is complex, his disability isn’t this tragic backstory, he just fell off a roof. It’s not his main motivation, nor does he curse revenge for making him a cripple - it is just another part of who he is. 

His cane (though the shows version fills me with rage but-) is an extension of Kaz - he fights with it, but it has a purpose. Another common thing in media is for canes to be simply accessories, but while Kaz’ cane is fashionable, it has purpose.

The quote “There was no part of him that was not broken, that had not healed wrong and there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken.” is so fucking powerful. Kaz does not want nor need a cure - its said in Crooked Kingdom that his leg could most likely be healed, but he chooses not to. Abled-bodied people tend to dismiss this thought as Kaz being stubborn but it shows a reality of acceptance of his disability that is just, so refreshing.

In chapter 22 of SOC, we see disabled rage done right - when he is called a cripple by the Fjerdan inmate, Kaz is pissed - the important detail being that he is pissed at the Fjerdan, at society for ableism, not blaming it on being disabled or wishing he could be normal. He takes action, dislocating the asshole’s shoulder and proving to him, and to a lesser extent, himself, that he is just as capable as anyone else, not in spite of, but because he is disabled. And that is the point of Kaz, harking back to the line that “there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken”. 

I cried on numerous occasions while reading the SOC duology, but the parts I highlighted in this section especially so. I, as many other disabled people do, have had a long and tumultuous relationship with our disability/es, and for many still struggle. But Kaz Brekker gave me an empowered disabled character who accepts themselves, and that means the world to me. 

Keeping that in mind, I hope you can understand why it hurts so much to disabled people when you either erase Kaz’s disability (whether through cosplay or fanfiction), or portray him as a “broken boy uwu”, especially implying that he would want a cure. That flies in the face of canon and is inherently fucking ableist. (if u think im mad wait until the next section)

Next, we have Wylan.  

Oh fucking boy. 

I love Wylan so fucking much, and y’all just do not seem to understand his character? Like at all? Since this is disability-centric, I’m not going to discuss how the intersection of his queerness also contributes to these issues, but trust me when I say it’s a contributing factor to what i'm going to say.

Wylan, motherfucking Van Eck. If you ableist pricks don’t take ur fucking hands off him right now im going to fight you. I see Wylan as a subversion another, and in my opinion more insidious stereotype pf disabled people - inspiration porn.

Cara Liebowitz in a 2015 article on the blog The Body Is Not An Apology explains in greater detail how inspiration porn is impactful in real life, but media is a major contributing factor to this reality. The technical definition is “the portrayal of people with disabilities as inspirational solely or in part on the basis of their disability” - but that does not cover it fully. 

Inspiration porn does lasting damage on the disabled community as it implies that disability is a negative that you need to “overcome” or “triumph” instead of something one can feel proud of. It exploits disabled people for the development of non-disabled people, and in media often the white male protagonist. Framing disability as inherently negative perpetuates ideals of eugenics and cures - see Autism $peaks’ “I Am Autism” ad. Inspiration porn is also incredibly patronizing as it implies that we cannot take care of ourselves, or do things like non-disabled people do. Because i stg some of you tend to think that we just sit around all day wishing we weren’t disabled. 

Another important theory ideal that is necessary when thinking about Wylan is the experience of feeling like a burden simply for needing help or accommodations. This is especially true when it comes to familial relationships, and internalized ableism.

The rhetoric that Wylan’s father drilled into his head, that he is “defective”, “a mistake”, and “needs to be corrected”, that he (Jan) was “cursed with a moron for a child” is a long held belief that disabled people hear relentlessly. And while many see Van Eck’s attempted murder of Wylan as “preposturous” and overall something that you would never think happens today - filicide (a parent murdering their child) is more common than you would like to believe. Without even mentioning the countless and often unreported deaths of disabled people due to lack of / insufficient / neglectful medical care, in a study on children who died from the result of household abuse, 40 of 42 of them (95%) were diagnosed with disabilities. Van Eck is not some caricature of ableist ideals - he is a real reflection on how many people and family members view disability. 

Circling back to how Wylan unpacks the inspiration porn trope - he is 3 dimensional, he is not only used to develop the other characters, he is just *chefs kiss* Leigh, imo, put so much love and care into the creation of Wylan and his story and character growth that is representative of a larger feeling in the disabled community. 

That being said, what you non-disabled motherfuckers have done to him.

The “haha Wylan can’t read” jokes aren’t and were not funny. Y’all literally boiled down everything Wylan is to him being dyslexic. And it’s like,,,, the only thing you can say about him. You ignore every other part of him other than his disability, and then mock him for it. There’s so much you can say about Wylan - simping for Jesper, being band kid and playing the fuckin flute, literally anything else. But no, you just chose to mock his disability, excellent fucking job!

Next up on “ableds stfu” - infantilization! y’all are so fucking condescending to Wylan, and treat him like a fucking toddler. And while partly it is due to his sexuality i think a larger portion is him being disabled. Its in the same vein of people who think that Wylan and Jesper are romantically one sided, and that Jesper only kind of liked Wylan, despite the canon evidence of him loving Wylan just as much. You all view him as a “smol bean”, who needs protecting, and care, when Wylan is the opposite of that. He is a fucking demolitions expert who suggested waking up sleeping men to kill them - what about that says “uwu”. You are treating Wylan as a burden to Jesper and the other Crows when he is an immensely valuable, fully autonomous disabled person - you all just view him as damaged. 

And before I get a comment saying that “uhhh Wylan isn’t real why do you care” while Wylan may not be real, how you all view him and treat him has real fucking impacts and informs how you treat people like me. If someone called me an “uwu baby boy” they’d get a fist square in the fucking jaw. Fiction informs how we perceive the world and y’all are making it super fucking clear how you see disabled people. 

Finally, I wanted to talk about how the social model of disability is portrayed through Wylan. For those who are unaware, the social model of disability contrasts the medical model, that views the disability itself as the problem, that needs to be cured, whereas the social model essentially boils down to creating an accommodating society, where disability acceptance and pride is the goal. And we see this with Wylan - he is able to manage his father’s estate, with Jesper’s assistance to help him read documents. And this is not out of pity or charity, but an act of love. It is not portrayed as this almighty act for Jesper to play saviour, just a given, which is incredibly important to show, especially for someone who has been abused by family for his disability like Wylan, that he is accepted. 

Yet, I still see people hold up Jesper on a pedestal for “putting up with” Wylan, as if loving a disabled person deserves a fucking pat on the back. It’s genuinely exhausting trying to engage with a work I love so much with a fandom that thinks so little of me and my community. It fucking shows. 

Overall, Leigh Bardugo as a disabled person wrote two incredibly meticulous and empowered disabled characters, and due to either lack of reading comprehension, ableism, or a quirky mix of both, the fandom has ignored canon and the experiences of disabled people for…. shits and giggles i guess. And yes, there are issues with the Grishaverse and disability representation - while I haven’t finished them yet so I do not have an opinion on it, people have been discussing issues in the KOS duology with ableist ideals. This mini series was no way indicative of the entire disabled experience, nor does it represent my entire view on the representation as a whole. These things need to be met critically in our community, and talked about with disabled voices at the forefront. For example, the limited perspective we get of Wylan and Kaz being both white men, does not account for a large portion of the disabled community and the intersection of multiple identities.

All-in-all, Critique media, but do not forget to also critique fandom spaces. Alternatively, just shut the fuck up :)

happy fucking disability pride month, ig

[presentfuckingmic]

Things I’d do if I woke up randomly in the mha universe:

Get someone to turn me into a cat so Aizawa can pet me

Scratch Aizawa as a cat

Scratch Mic as a cat

Scratch Shinsou as a cat

Scratch-

Snap Iida’s glasses

Find out if Iida drinks pulp orange juice or regular orange juice

If it’s pulp, bitchslap him

Punch Bakugo

Redraw at least one of the drawing in Midoriya’s notebooks cause what the fuck are those

Bite Mic’s hair

Steal Mic’s speaker

Make a bet with one of Ectoplasm’s clones

Bully Monoma

Formally apologize to every single girl that has ever appeared on screen

Have a staring contest with Nedzu

Give Cementoss and Lunch Rush a hug

Find out how much Powerloader can bench press

Have a conversation with Fukidashi where I try and get him to say as many onomatopoeias as possible before he figures out what I’m doing

See if Vlad’s tusks are fake

Hear Mic scream as loud as he can :)

Get Mina to make me acid that’s safe to touch so I can touch

Ask Jirou what her favorite song is and proceed to roast it

Sit with Tokoyami, Shoji, and Koda in absolute silence for an hour

See how long I can make Midoriya ramble

Punch Bakugo

Buy a bunch of Present Mic merch to bite

Buy Mic some new fucking shoes

Bedazzle Mic’s headphones

Snap Mic’s glasses

Bitchslap Aizawa

Bitchslap All Might

Give All Might a hug

Step on Mic’s toes

See if I can out ramble Midoriya (my strength would be Autistic. Unfortunately, he has that too so we’d have to see)

Give Eri a piggyback ride

Bitchslap Mirio for thinking his hero career was over bc he lost his quirk

Bitchslap Ragdoll for the same reason

Have Recovery Girl heal me then sue because if her quirk works how I think it works (speeds up while blood cell’s rate of work at the spot of injury), my arthritis would go haywire and it’d be Funny

Hijack Hands Up Radio for a single hour just so I can play a bunch of meme songs

Find out what fucking year the story takes place in

Get Shinsou to brainwash me. He can do whatever he wants after that idc

Somehow connect Midnight’s handcuff bracelets together so they’d be actual handcuffs while on her

Either find out who tf teaches the second and third years or find out how that few teachers teach that many classes

Wait fuck it might not be as complicated as I thought, I might just be American

Steal Shinsou’s mask

Sniff Aizawa’s eyedrops

Meet Sushi :)

Time how long it takes Midnight to knock me (a very asexual and aromantic person) out

Murder Mineta and frame Bakugo

Buy Midoriya a snack

Steal some hero merch

Make some bootleg hero merch where I just horribly misspell the hero’s names and paint them so you can’t see any detail to avoid copyright

Find out if Tamaki has special teeth that make him able to bite shit like crystals and be fine

If they are special, steal them

Jump out at least one window

Touch Uraraka’s hair

Find a way to stop being a cat and get the fuck out of there

[honey-milk-depresso]

Obey Me Opposites Attract (2)

HAHAHA- HAVING THIS SHIT STUCK FOR ALMOST 4 MONTHS- (3 months+)

I’M FINALLY DONE WITH THIS SHIT-

Part 1 is here (Luci, Mammon, Levi and Satan)! 

Hope you enjoy! ^^

==============================================================

Asmodeus:

While Asmo is a natural flirt, charming, shameless for causing troubles to others, HIGHLY narcissistic, secretly insecure and very dirty minded,

then you’re someone who has a romance as cold as ice, not repelling but nothing attractive, modest, actually quite proud of yourself (not too much), and a mind as pure as the heavens.

Asmo didn’t really thought much about you at first. All he wanted to do was woo you like what he did with every other human. But you proven yourself to be a tough nut to crack.

Every flirt he threw at you only gotten a raise of an eyebrow, eyes looking at him with pure confusion.

And if he tried to crack a dirty minded flirt with you, would only result you in taking his hint literally and telling him that’s not humanly possible.

Man oh man-

Each attempt of flirting with you made him more and more frustrated, and Satan asked him, “Why do you bother?”

And Asmo wonders why too. Why does HE, the most beautiful demon in all of Devildom, wants to get your attention from someone as... well... plain and boring as you? (I’m so sorry- blame Asmo-)

But he can’t help it. Eventually one day you looked at him with a straight face. 

“I... I’m not sure if you want to start a conversation with me, which I really appreciate it but... I don’t really understand the topics you bring up..”

And that’s where Asmo realised. For so long, so long of throwing flirts and receiving confusion, neither of you knew anything about each other.

And... now you’re thrown into the threshold of him now glomping you with so much beauty products and makeup to try on, clothes, fashion, and you talk about your favourite things, hobbies and interests with him.

Eventually, you guys had such a close relationship.

“You look so pretty in that dress, s/o!”

“Hehe! Thanks, Asmo! But that’s because you have such good taste after all!”

Oh, stop! You’re too modest! But in all honesty, Asmo has gotten over of grasping for attention. Because of you, and what he learnt from you, he’s more focused on spending time with you and family than anything else, and he actually received far more attention because of it.

Now it’s his time to be modest! It’s because of you!! <3

Beelzebub:

Beel is a really hungry, active, an emotionally mature man who treasures family, naive and childlike.

You are someone who’s, well, not usually hungry, quite lazy or not as active, more practical than emotional, crafty, intelligent and jaded.

When Beel first met you, he thought you would get along with Lucifer the most.

You were no-nonsense and no funny business, very smart and acted like a mature adult. You were definitely the type Lucifer would appreciate and get along. That’s only until he realised you can’t stand Lucifer at times, in fact, you’d rather not go all friendly with him.

Beel finds himself with you in Hell’s Kitchen, introducing you to the many delicious food out there that can be considered light for you (he had to REALLY search up, ask everyone else including Satan and Lucifer what light food is since he knows humans can’t really eat his diet size, and you don’t even eat a lot as well-), as you only nod, trying the food he recommended.

Beel thought of you as someone cold, and maybe a little intimidating because of the mature frame you presented yourself with. He thought you must be some high ranking official of Diavolo.

But Beel could see something quite off. You were... struggling. In something. He notices that every time you talk to someone like Mammon or Levi, you sharply remark them in a harsh tone and way, and then when they leave dejectedly, your frown. Frown... to yourself it seems?

He straight up went up to you with a poker face while munching on his burger. “Why do you look upset after you speak to someone?”

You were a little shocked by his sudden comment, but you looked at him with a frown, eyes a little softer however, “I never mean to be.... harsh..”

Beel blinked. From that point onwards, Beel was truly the only person who gets pass your blunt comments. You don’t mean it, and he assures you he’s alright. By talking to him a lot, getting over your rudeness and getting over his own guilt and be happy with where he is today... you and him feel a lot better. And you two are so truly inseparable.

He flashes you a clumsy, lighted with pure joy grin, crumbs sticking from the corners of his mouth like a goof, as you scoffed, but wore a small, genuine smile. <3

Belphegor:

The clever trickster and liar, grudge holding, proactive, efficient, sensible and mellow, rebellious and introverted Avatar of Sloth,

with a truthful and honest, forgiving, passive, I won’t say foolish but you’re more emotionally intelligent, quite harsh and blunt (perhaps unintentionally-), obedient and extroverted human.

How did this even combust well?

Belphie never understood this either. How in Hell did he manage to even befriend a human, much less someone of the complete opposite of him?

While he’s okay with you as acquaintance in the beginning, he was quite irritated by how bubbly and talkative you were. He’ll interrupt you by mumbling curses, lightly throwing a pillow to ask you to back off. He thinks you were quite naive to let him out of that cell, and you’re talkative nature, stereotypically to him, reflects that.

Belphie also thinks you’re really soft. You accepted that you’ll die because of him, and listen to what Lucifer says always. Such a doll, he thought.

Belphie dragged his way down the stairs, yawning as he lazily blinked. He sees you down at the living room... eating and having some crazy fun with a video game on silent..? Yo- Lucifer isn’t even up at this hour- How tf are you awake? How tf is HE awake??

Well, Belphie doesn’t really care by this point, but he walks up to you with a glass of milk he poured for himself. “What the fck are you doing..?” “Playing Levitating Adventures from Levi. Wanna play?”

He blinked. That... used to be him, Levi and Beel. They rarely do that nowadays. He shrugs, plopping himself on the couch as he took a control, playing with you. Eventually, it just became yourself playing as he quietly cheer for you, well, in a Belphie way- 

Belphie quietly listened to you ramble about your day, Beel, what Barbatos made, what troubles Mammon caused, Luke baked a cake with Solomon and so on, like what he does with you one every other day after this event.

He looks down, and suddenly hits you with the question. “Are you... mad at me for... you know... killing you..?” You blinked at him. “Well, I’m alive now, and your intentions had meaning I can’t wrong you for. I mean, having someone die because of a species... I don’t blame you.” He grabbed your shoulders in fast motion, looking at you with eyes filled with shock and disbelief.

“BUT WHY?! I- I-” he lost his ability to speak. You placed a hand on his arm, and gently guided them back to his side. “You... looked so sad that... I couldn’t do anything...” He stares at you with an unreadable expression.

“Belph-” he suddenly hugged you, stuffing his face in the crook of your neck. “Belphie..?”

“Don’t say a word,” he whispers, “just... I...”

You smiled softly, wrapping your arms around him as well. “Sorry is hard to say, but know that I’ll always forgive you.” <3

[ynainna]

Always Been on You (Diluc)

summary: Maybe once Diluc would’ve been someone you’ve always thought was distant but to the people of Monstadt, his eyes had only and always been on you.

pairing: Diluc Ragnvindr/ Reader

word count: 2,198

warnings: Monstadt spoilers

tags: fluff, Diluc is such a sweetheart, reader is fucking whipped (I mean who’s not :/ and I mean if you’re not then why tf r u reading this lol), oblivious!reader, pining, hurt and comfort

notes: y’all, I just want you to know this is to indulge my fucking, Diluc simping. Anyways my first Diluc fic that had been postponed for so very long bc stress, school, and testings that said “hell the fuck nah you ain’t writing anything besides essays.” Thank you for the support guys ^^ I’ll try my best to release the others on time more.

Contrary to popular belief, the beginning of your relationship was a rocky one and was often the cause of your midnight breakdowns away from prying eyes and ears. It wasn’t a question about if you liked him or even loved him enough, it was the insecurities that often ran rampant in your mind. Sometimes, it was even the question if he even remotely liked you in the way you liked him.

It was like that for a short time. Short, but it was long enough that it damaged and chipped your confidence. The nobles certainly didn’t help any with their absurd expectations and implied insults every time you so much breathed in their general direction.

You would’ve aired your problems and insecurities to Diluc but in the beginning, it had only been a small problem, not worthy enough to bother him with it, especially considering the youth of your relationship. By the time it was at a worrying stage, your insecurities had already gotten the best of you and, to Diluc’s annoyance, you felt as if it would only anger and annoy him.

“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you now?” Your head snapped up from its bowing position to look at the owner of the voice who stood at the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with their arms crossed dressed in his normal attire but without the coat and with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. When your wide eyes met his, he only raised an eyebrow as if to ask the question again.

You flushed, embarrassed to be caught sulking. His lips quirked up for a short second before pushing off the frame and heading towards your seat, his shoes clicking against the wooden floors. You ducked your head, facing your lap and your tightly clenched hands. He stops right in front of you, his shoes in your periphery vision. 

When you don’t look up, a quiet sigh is heard. You close your eyes tightly and let your shoulders fall and cave in towards your chest. You would’ve curled into a ball but a gloved hand raises your chin to make your eyes meet with his ruby ones. You gulp when you see him study you, his head tilting slightly to the side, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes wandered your form trying to find the reasons for your sulking. And when he doesn’t find anything, he purses lips before meeting your eyes again.

“Well?” Diluc asks, his eyes sharp as he waits for your answer. You feel your mouth dry the longer the silence becomes. “I- Uhm.” You clear your throat to get rid of the raspiness that settled.

“It’s nothing.” You say, your eyes darting away from his to avoid his piercing stare.

“Do you genuinely think I’m stupid not to see it? Or do you genuinely think I wouldn’t care?” 

Your eyes flash towards his at his tone before ducking your head once more, hands sweating and eyes turning glassy.

“I-It’s not that. It’s just,” You pause, pursing your lips as you tried to find the words to describe your dilemma. “Why would you care?” You ask quietly.

The sound of Diluc’s heavy sigh makes your eyes tightly close. Did you offend him? 

When you feel a slight dip of weight on the seat beside you and the accompanying warmth that settles with it, your anxiety spikes.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asks back.

“Do you even-” You start before being interrupted by Diluc.

“Love you?” 

It’s silent.

He sighs.

“What made you think I wouldn’t?”

What. Did he-  

You look up from your lap to look at the man beside you. 

“Wait- so-”

Diluc huffs, leaning against the back of the couch, his arm resting at the top of the couch frame as he closes his eyes and lets his head fall back, your eyes on him the entire time. When he opens his eyes again, his head rolls to the side to look at you. You’re slightly baffled at his relaxed stance.

“Would it help if I say it?” You flush, eyes widening. His stare is unwavering from your form, either that he can’t look away or he was being stubborn.

“N-No! You don’t need to. I’m- I’m just being stupid-” You ramble, flustered with his straightforwardness and honesty as well as the implied confirmation at his affection for you. You stop when you see him straighten and turn his body to face yours. 

You freeze.

Diluc looks at you before taking off his gloves. You watch as he takes them off, eyes never straying from his movements. Your eyes follow the gloves as he rests them on the couch cushion. So focused on the gloves, you don’t realize Diluc has moved until you feel his ungloved, warm hand rest on your cheek, making you jolt in surprise.

Diluc looks at you in the eyes, peering into you as if looking for the answer to an unaired question. When he oddly finds it, he leans in towards you. You close your eyes when you feel the heat of his breath on your face. There’s a moment of still silence before you feel something soft land on your forehead.

“You shouldn't worry so much about my affections for you. It’s quite obvious if only you would look.” He murmurs against your forehead, lips brushing your skin at the move of his lips. Diluc leans back to look at you, the corner of his lips quirked up and his eyes twinkling in slight amusement and to your shock, fondness. After a few seconds, seeing as you are still settled into shock, he sighs and stands up.

You track him as he straightens his clothes and as he walks back towards the door, stopping at the entrance and looking at you for the last time and then leaving the room.

Oh.

You burry your reddened face in your hands, flustered beyond belief.

After that, you oddly started to see the things he did differently. You see the warmth that would settle in his eyes when he looked at you, the way that he would secretly cook for you but giving the credit to the chef, the way that he would brush his hands with yours.

It was during dinner when you realize it. You look up from your meal to look at Diluc, who surprisingly was already looking at you, his chin resting on the palm of his hand as he watched you eat. When his eyebrows quirk up, you still.

Oh.

Oh.

You feel your face warm up when both his eyebrows raise in slight bewilderment at your expression before understanding settled. He always did know how to read people so well, but this well? Damn. Diluc’s lips twitch before going back into a firm line.

“Thank you.” I’m sorry.

He only hums, scanning your features before saying, “No need for that. It’s only natural after all.” He looks back down onto his plate to continue eating.

Your face is red when you start eating again but there’s a small smile on both your faces when the night ends.

You do eventually grow closer and the affection you hold for one another grows the longer time passes. 

You wonder if the change is obvious, but you shake your head, a smile on your face. There’s really no reason to worry about public opinion.

The Stormterror Incident is incredibly stressful for you and everyone involved. The constant worry and fear that would settle into everyday lives, wondering when the next attack would come. Diluc would constantly need to murmur sweet nothings into your ear to ease your anxiety at the situation. It’s a tradition at this point for how long the issue has been occurring.

There’s a simultaneous sigh of relief of everyone from Monstadt when a traveler by the name Aether and his companion Paimon fights off an attack. 

You’ve never been so relaxed.

But one night, as you ready for a night’s sleep, there was a change of pace.

“Diluc?” You ask, head tilted and eyebrows furrowed in worry and curiosity at his clothes. He’s still in his work clothes, which is, baffling but the tenseness of his jaw and shoulders is what takes your attention.

“I have to leave for a few days.” He states, lips pursed.

“Oh? Well that’s news, but couldn’t you have told me that when you’ve cha-”

“Tonight. I leave tonight.” Your eyebrows raise in alarm.

“Why so sudden?”

“Stormterror.” And that’s that. You feel the anxiety that went away, when Aether arrived, come back with vengeance but instead for you, it was for Diluc.

His arms wrap around you tightly as you feel yourself crumble slightly. His hands come up to brush your hair strands away from your face to make room for where his lips would find purchase on your forehead.

“I’ll be back. I promise.” Diluc murmurs.

Your grip on his waist tightens. 

You better went unsaid and he only tightens his grip on you in response.

“I always wondered why you thought that man didn’t love you,” Mother says, a tray in her hands as she enters the living room. Her eyes pointedly staring at the unboxed necklace that rested on the coffee table.

You whine, “Mother, I haven’t exactly been in a relationship like this before.”

Mother raises her eyebrows, doubt swimming in her eyes.

You pout. “You know... a teenage girl expects “I love you” and... not...” You murmur under your breath, cheeks turning pink at your thoughts.

Mother sighs, the corner of her lips quirked up as she looks away from you to meet Marjorie’s amused eyes as she sat across from you.

“Don’t you know? You had his affection since you were babes. Master Crepus already knew you would be his son’s future wife, he even had a bet going on. He even panicked when he thought you might grow more affectionate for Sir Kaeya.” Mother snorts at the sight of your tomato colored face.

Mother’s lips curl in wry amusement as she hums, “Hard to believe my baby girl would marry anyone but the most wanted bachelor of the generation.”

“Mother!” Marjorie and her share a laugh at your loud protest. You plant your face in your hands, trying to hide your face from the eyes of your Mother and Marjorie.

Marjorie takes a sip of her tea, her eyes on the surface of the tea, watching her disproportionate reflection. Her fingertips trace the rim of the teacup as she hums in thought.

“It may be hard for you to believe but, he’s never looked at another woman the way he looks at you. His love for you had always been obvious to everyone, it didn’t stop the girls of course but everyone always knew who held his affections. He was very obvious with it, never hid it even after the death of Master Crepus which speaks volumes.”

You peek at Marjorie from the gap of your fingers, unwilling to uncover your face just yet. 

Mother places the tray on the table, her lips in a firm straight line as she fixes the table. Your face is uncovered by the time Mother takes a seat beside you, her eyes distant, deep in thought.

“Master Crepus’ late wife,” She starts carefully as if trying to avoid the waking of a beast, “was the last wearer of the ring you bear.”

Huh?

Your surprise is obvious to the women with you, their smile is fond as they watch you fumble around.

“I remember what she once told us about the ring,” Mother says, nostalgia in her voice as she stared at the hand and finger that bore the scarlet ring.

“The Ragnvindr heir would only give the ring to the woman he would swear his life and allegiance to. It’s a promise of forever. It’s not just marriage he’s promising, do you understand?” Mother asks, her eyes soft as she looks at you in the eyes, a small smile on her face as she watches the realization settle.

“Oh...” you breathe out. You look up at the both of them, eyes wide in awe. Both of them bring their respective teacups to their lips as they watch you stew in your feelings.

Mother and Marjorie smile.

He’s always loved quietly. He didn’t need to say I love you with his words when one look in his eyes and the warmth in his smiles is enough. 

You’ve always thought he was a quiet but affectionate lover but to the eyes that had watched the growth of your relationship, those that had watched it bloom into a beautiful relationship, always thought he loved you in a loud way.

You never thought much of the public opinion of your relationship but when you come seeking for it in curiosity, only warm smiles and twinkling eyes greet you. Just when you’ve given up finding the answer, Jean and Lisa give it to you.

“He’s always had his eyes on you and only you don’t you know? Never anyone but you.” Jean’s amused and fond smile accompanied by Lisa’s knowing eyes and smug laugh makes you flush the color of the man you love.

[silkling]

I have the weird headcanon that TFRB Cody could adopt Lazerbeak brother, Buzzsaw. I haven't read a lot of TF comics so I don't know he's current status, still I always saw Cody as a typical animal owner, and I think it would be kind of cute too. Could you write some scenes of theme meeting and become friends

Come Home to Roost

Buzzsaw was tired. He was so, so tired. He missed Soundwave. He missed Laserbeak. Pit damn it, he also missed the those infernal twins and that Pit-spawned cat. They had been family for so long. Had been home. It had been them that he returned to every night to roost. It had been them that he had built his nest among. It had been them that he had come to call flock.

Now though…how could they be flock, when they had left him behind? Even his sister had left. He had thought Soundwave cared more than that. Apparently not, though. It had been a miracle that he’d made it off Centauri-12 after being abandoned. But he had, and he’d wandered the cosmos, stowing away on any ship he could find. He didn’t know what his goal was. To survive, he supposed. Find a new roost, though knowing how Primus had abandoned him thus far in his life, he doubted their “benevolent” Creator would have such kindness to direct towards him.

And perhaps he should not be surprised, really. He had been one of Soundwave’s most vicious Cassettes, after Ravage. But was that really something to be punished? He had had to be vicious. His sister had refused to be, and before Soundwave that meant he’d had to step up to keep her safe, to keep them both safe. Cybertron had not been kind to Cassettes, after all. Under Functionism, Cassettes had been viewed as little more than slaves, pets, property. He’d had to be vicious, then. It had been the only way they’d kept their lives, kept their freedom. After Soundwave, he’d had to continue to be vicious. Whereas Laserbeak had been the Host’s spy, Buzzsaw had been the attacker from above. Where Ravage had killed and torn from the ground, Buzzsaw had swooped in and brought death from the skies. After Soundwave, he’d been vicious because his new Host had needed him to be a protector still. And with Soundwave there had been Megatron, and he’d gone from protector to soldier.

Now though…now he wasn’t much of anything. Left behind on an uninhabited world that had drawn the War to it due to its energon mines, forgotten by the very one who had vowed to shelter and care for him, by his kin, by the family had come to call his own. He didn’t even feel them over the bond they’d shared anymore. They’d known he was alive when they’d left Centauri-12. He knew they had, the bond had told him as much. But they’d left anyway. And so he’d broken it. It had almost killed him. Cassettes were hard-coded for loyalty. It was part of their very core. To break the bond when he’d sworn his loyalty to Soundwave….it had made his spark burn with agony. But what other choice had he had? They’d left him behind, cast him aside, and left him with nothing.

He’d had to hitch a ride in the Autobot ship, which had left the planet later then his former allies. He’d been discovered when they’d landed again, and had had to flee. He’d continued like that, going from ship to ship, Neutral, Autobot, and even Decepticon, always fleeing when he was found. He’d even hidden away on the ships of organic species. It seemed his luck had finally run out, though. He’d been on the ship of a species called the Kaminoans, but after they’d found and attempted to capture him he’d been forced to flee into the vast expanse of space. It had almost killed him. He wasn’t space-faring. His armor couldn’t stand the pressure for long. Thankfully, his long-range sensors had detected a habitable planet in the nearest star system, and he’d fled as fast as his tired, starved frame could take him. The Kaminoans hadn’t given chase.

He remembered his first view of the planet. It was blue, with large green landmasses. Then he’d breached the atmosphere, and his systems hadn’t been able to handle the stress. He’d offlined, and come to surrounded by some sort of extremely salty liquid. He hadn’t been able to fly, and had had to go on foot, hoping to make his way to land. He didn’t want to rust on the floor of some massive salty pool of liquid. So he’d forced himself to move, and eventually he’d dragged himself onto some tiny, rocky shore. He’d only had the energy to cast out his sensors for one look around, enough to realize he had dragged himself onto some sort of island, and then his systems had dragged him into an emergency shutdown.

Blissfully, Buzzsaw knew no more.

——————————

When his systems pulled him from his forced recharge, Buzzsaw knew he was in trouble. His optics onlined with a dull glow, and his focused briefly on his HUD, taking in the messages flitting across it. After a moment, he chuffed and forced himself to stand. His self-repair had healed just enough damage to drag him from the edge of a stasis lock, but then the system had shut down in response to low energon. He was at 15% right now, which meant he had the rest of this orn to find fuel before his frame went into emergency stasis. After that..it would be too late for him.

The only way for a Cybertronian to be pulled out of emergency stasis was for another bot to fuel them enough that their systems kicked back online. Otherwise, the stasis would keep the bot in question under, only the bare essential systems running in order to keep the spark alight. Eventually, even those would give out, and the bot would die. Buzzsaw had heard claims that it was a peaceful way to go. That after entering stasis, you wouldn’t be aware of anything, which meant death was just like slipping under. You wouldn’t actually feel pain, wouldn’t feel your spark gutter.

Personally, Buzzsaw didn’t believe that. He thought dying like that was frightening. How could it not be? Feeling your systems fail and shut down, one by one, until you didn’t even have the strength to vent on your own. Your frame shutting down slowly, a klick at a time, until your awareness and consciousness was the last to go, but able to feel each and every one of your non-vital systems go offline. Your processor slipping under, your spark forced to still and shrink to conserve energy, your last thought either a prayer to be found or the grim knowledge you’d die where you lay.

No, Buzzsaw didn’t see the peace in a death like that. He looked around, taking in his surroundings, and then started walking. His wings were folded, and he made no attempt to fly. It would take too much of his energy. So he had to stay on the ground to conserve what precious little he had left. He only hoped he found an energon source. If he was extraordinarily lucky, this planet produced it. His best chances were at finding a underground mine. Liquid energon wells weren’t found anywhere but Cybertron. Other planets only produced the fuel in its crystalline form.

He hobbled along, and it wasn’t long before he was stumbling across a cave. He felt the faintest stirrings of hope as he hobbled in, sending out a faint ping of his sensors. Maybe he would find energon after all. Distracted as he was, he didn’t notice when the ground under him crumbled, and he fell into the deeper caverns below. He hit the ground hard, and his HUD threw up frantic damage warnings.

He dismissed them dispassionately, resignation settling in his spark. The fall had taken out his left leg, and his right wing was bent. He wouldn’t be able to move. This was it for him. He was going to slip into stasis lock and die here. As his systems started to shut down, he only had enough energy for one last action. Just before his consciousness was stolen away, he thought of the family he’d lost, and the life he would no longer be able to live.

Buzzsaw lifted his head and released a haunting cry, the caves all over the island echoing with his grief and regret. Then his optics went dark, and his helm fell to the dusty ground with a soft clang of metal on rock.

In the tunnels around him, his death knell echoed on.

——————————

Optimus shuttered his optics and tilted his head when the haunting cry floated from the tunnels leading out of the bunker. The Rescue Bots and their partners, who were also in the Lounge area, paused what they were doing and looked up. The Prime frowned, concerned. Young Cody was in the tunnels. Was he perhaps hurt?

“It must be a bird.” Graham said after a moment. “That’s what it sounds like, anyway. It might be lost in the tunnels and calling for its flock.”

That reassured Optimus. Now that he stopped to think, the cry HAD sounded more animal than human.

“Should we go help?” Boulder asked, clearly concerned.

“No.” Chief Burns said after a moment. “Let’s give it a bit. It might get out on it’s own. If it’s still crying like that in an hour, then we can help.”

“Got it, dad.” Graham agreed, and then he and his partner were returning to their previous task.

The other Bots and humans soon followed suit. Optimus was left staring at the tunnel entrance, lips twisted in a frown. Something was tugging at his processor. That call had definitely been animal in nature. But it had also sounded just faintly mechanical. His audials had barely even picked up on that aspect of the eerie wail, but he had heard it, he was certain of that.

The buzzing of the comm. system tore him from his thoughts. It was Cody.

“Uh, Dad? Guys?”

Chief Burns was answering in less than a minute. “We’re here, Cody. What is it? Do you need help?”

“No. Well, kind of. I don’t need help, but I found someone who might.”

Kade scoffed. “What, is a lost bird flying around in a panic? Just try and scare it back towards the entrance, it’ll be fine. We heard that call, I’m sure it was just calling for its friends.”

“Um, no.” Cody was blunt. “It’s not a bird. Not an Earth one, anyway.”

“Can you repeat that, son?”

“It’s not an Earth bird. I think it’s Cybertronian. And it looks like it’s hurt pretty bad.”

Optimus froze. A Cybertronian bird. That wasn’t possible. The only types of Cybertronian avians he knew of were Cassettes.

“Cody.” he cut in. “What color is it? Is it red and black?”

“No, Optimus. It’s black and…brown, I think? It’s really dirty. I can’t see what the other color is very clearly. It might not be brown.”

Not Laserbeak, then. But he didn’t know of any brown and black avian Cassette. Maybe one had escaped Cybertron on its own? It was extremely unlikely, but he supposed it wasn’t impossible. Cassettes were perfectly capable and intelligent.

“Oh, wait. I have a towel in my pack. I can see if I can clean some of the dirt.”

“Why do you have a towel in your bag?” Kade snarked. “You were just exploring the caves.”

“Sure, but I wanted to go to the beach right after. Hang on, I almost got it…” there was a pause. “There. It’s black and yellow. It’s still hard to tell because the grime is really caked in and the paint is old and fading, but I think the other color is yellow.”

Optimus froze. Black and yellow. But how? Buzzsaw had been lost on Centauri-12. Except…that wasn’t quite right either. He vaguely remembered a report that Jazz had found the Cassette stowing away on the Ark after the Autobots had left that planet, but that he’d been chased off before he could be captured when they’d been near a space docks. Had the little avian really survived on his own so long? It seemed almost ludicrous to even think it, yet he knew there was only one black and yellow Cybertronian bird who had left Cybertron.

“Hold on, Cody. I believe I may know who that is. Tell me, is he awake?”

“It’s a him? And no. I’m almost not sure if he’s even still…” Cody trailed off, but Optimus understood.

“I see. Stay where you are. I am coming now. And be wary. If I am correct, then that is Buzzsaw. He is a formidable foe, and if he wakes you must stay away from him.”

“Alright. I’ll be here.” the boy agreed, the the comm. cut off with a click.

“Wait, foe? Is this one of those Decepticons you mentioned, Optimus?” Chief Burns asked.

“He is indeed.” The Prime informed him.

“Then why should we help?” Kade asked. “If he’s one of the bad guys, shouldn’t we leave him there?”

“No.” Heatwave stood, crossing his arms. Glancing around, Optimus could see the same resolve the fire truck was showing in the rest of the Rescue Bots. “‘Con or not, we aren’t leaving him. We’re Rescue Bots, we save anyone who needs it, regardless of who they are. If you won’t help, we’ll do it on our own.”

“You are correct, Heatwave. It would be wrong to leave Buzzsaw to perish.” Optimus agreed. He looked down at the humans. “If he is truly as injured as Cody says, then he will be of little threat. So long as you are wary, he will likely be unable to cause you harm.”

“Are you certain, Optimus?” Chase asked.

“Yes. Buzzsaw is a Cassette. He is far smaller than any of you. He is also very young. I believe that he is the equivalent of a human teenager, if my memory is not mistaken.” The Prime soothed.

That was clearly the key to convince the Chief. “Go.” the human said. “If we can help, we will. It wouldn’t be right to leave him there.”

Optimus nodded, and then folded down into his alt-mode and drove. He had not told the humans, but he was certain that the call they had heard earlier had in fact been Buzzsaw himself. He had not wanted to mention it, to avoid distressing the others too much. But he was certain of it now.

That haunting cry hadn’t been a call for help, it had been a death song.

——————————

Optimus pulled up alongside Cody, shifting to root mood as his optics found the still form lying limp on the ground. Primus, it really was Buzzsaw. He crouched down, one large hand slipping under the too-light form of the downed Cassette. This wasn’t right. Cassettes were smaller and not as heavily armored as a normal mech, but the avian shouldn’t be this light. Looking at him now, the Prime was starting to realize that Buzzsaw had likely been on his own and in a state of gradual starvation ever since Centauri-12.

“Optimus? Is he going to be okay?” It was Cody, and the boy was frowning up at him.

He hesitated, then folded into his alt-mode, carefully ensuring that Buzzsaw ended up in his cab. He opened his door, letting the human climb in, and then he was driving back to the bunker. He was silent for a lone moment before he finally spoke.

“I will not lie, Cody Burns. Buzzsaw’s status is…not promising.” he said after a moment.

There was silence as he drove, and then-

“You said he was a foe. Does that mean he’s a Decepticon?”

“Yes.” He answered simply.

There was more silence.

“Optimus?”

“Yes?”

“Why did the Decepticons start the War?”

Optimus was silent for a long moment. The boy truly was perceptive. But how could he answer that?

“Cybertron…was not kind to all its children.” he said after a long moment. “There were many policies in place that kept those of high status in power, and left those of lower social classes struggling.” There. That should be a simple enough explanation.

“And the Decepticons were those lower class bots?”

“Many of them, yes.” Optimus paused. “You must understand, Cody. Cybertron was not the utopia some of my Autobots may believe it was. There were many who suffered greatly. However, while the Decepticons may have risen from a just cause, that does not justify the depths they have since fallen to.”

Cody hummed. “I get it.” he said softly.

Optimus relaxed. Good. He didn’t want to lie to Cody, but he didn’t want to boy to think that the Decepticons were harmless. He feared that if that were the case, the young human may do something foolish in the future. No, it was better he understood the War for what it was.

“Optimus?”

“Yes?”

“What’s going to happen to Buzzsaw?”

Ah. “I…do not know. If he is able to recover, I cannot allow him to go free. It would cause immense trouble for my team and my Autobots if he were to rejoin his Master.” he sighed.

“Master?”

“Buzzsaw is a Cassette. They do not often live their lives independently.”

“Why?”

“…perhaps that is a detail best explained with all the others.”

“Okay.” Cody tilted his head. “So you can’t let him go. Can you take him with you?”

Optimus winced. “That would not be wise. I am afraid my team would not understand. I am all too willing to give Buzzsaw a chance, but if I were to bring him to my base I fear the others would argue in favor of his…deactivation.”

“Deactivation.” A pause. “You mean they’d want to kill him.” he whispered.

“The Decepticons have caused my mechs a great deal of pain, Cody.” Optimus said softly. “They would not do it to be cruel, but I know there would be more than one among them who would believe such action justified. An eye for an eye, as the earth saying goes.”

“It doesn’t make it right.”

“No.” Optimus agreed. “But it is War, and those who suffer the effects of it long enough do not enough grasp right from wrong any longer, only what hurts have been inflicted and how best to return them.”

“It’s a cycle.” Cody said sadly.

“A cruel, bitter one.”

Optimus could see the light of the bunker up ahead. He drove towards it in silence, spark heavy.

“Optimus?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think…Buzzsaw could stay here? On Griffin Rock, I mean. Maybe I could help him. The team too. He looks like he’s been on his own a long time. At least, I think he has been. If he has a “Master” like you said, I don’t think they’d let him get this bad off.” There was a pause. “Maybe he’s tired enough to not want to go back to the War? It’s worth a try, right? I want to help him.”

And Optimus, for the first time since he realized who the downed Cybertronian was, felt the faintest stirrings of hope.

——————————

Buzzsaw was resting. Blades had prepared a large crate on which to treat the injured Cassette, and as soon as Optimus had released the avian the small copter bot was scanning him and bustling around to repair him. He’d gotten an energon line started already, and currently his digits were transformed into the medical tools he needed to repair the damage to the Cassette’s internals and armor. As Blades worked, Optimus shared everything he had told Cody in the tunnel with the others.

“So he can’t go with you because your team might kill him, and you can’t let him go because he’d go back to his Master and cause trouble for your team.” Heatwave sighed. “I suppose that means his Host is here on Earth?”

“Soundwave is here, yes.” Optimus hummed. “He is Megatron’s Third in Command and Chief Communications Officer.”

“Ah, yes. I can see how that would cause issues if such a mech were to regain access to his Cassette.” Chase said.

“Cassette.” Cody said slowly. “You called him that in the tunnel too. It’s important. Why?”

Optimus hummed. “First, you must understand that Cybertronians are divided by our frame-types. There are flight frames, and among them you have Helios, Jets, Shuttles, and Seekers. Among the ground frames, there are cars, two-wheelers, trucks, and even more. There are even aquatic frames, though they are few and far between. Beyond them, you have triple-changers, bots who naturally have two alt-forms rather than one. There are also those with non-vehicular alt-modes. And finally, you also have mini-bots, and alongside them there are Cassettes.”

The humans were staring, focused intently on the overly simplified lesson. The Rescue Bots didn’t pay it much mind, however.

“Among all those frame-types, barring Cassettes, it was not uncommon on for some bots to have additional abilities on top of the normal abilities granted to them by their frames. Host mech are one such example. They can be any frame-type, but they are set apart because of their ability to bind their sparks to those of Cassettes in order to form a symbiotic bond.”

Cody blinked. “What do they each get out of the bond?”

“The Cassettes gain protection. Cassettes were…not a well-regarded class. They were found on the streets or in the wilds, and often forced to struggle for their very survival. Most Cybertronians viewed them as simple-minded or feral. They were not thought of as having much intelligence, or even sentience.” Optimus forced himself to continue at the disturbed looks the humans wore. “So for Cassettes, a bond with a Host was a chance at safety. They relinquished their freedom to their Host, and in return they would be given fuel, shelter, care, and above all else, safety. In return, the Hosts received the obedience of their Cassettes, and the Cassettes would help them with any task, function, or job they required.”

Cody was sitting next to Buzzsaw, and the Prime saw him extend a hand to lay it on the avian’s head. “That…that doesn’t sound very fair, Optimus.”

“Perhaps.” he agreed. “But most Hosts treated their Cassettes well and were very fond of them. Such a bond was necessary for many. Cassettes get their name because they do not have an alt-mode capable of movement. Their alt-mode is always a cassette tape or something else very similar. When the bond is formed, a Cassette gains the ability to dock within the armor of their Host while they are in their alt-mode. It is an added degree of safety.”

Chief Burns hummed. “I think I get it. The important bits, anyway. The cultural stuff…” He trailed off. “That I have a harder time wrapping my head around, but I get why our guest being a Cassette matters.”

“Oh?” Optimus had little doubt he did. The Chief was an intelligent man.

“He’s going to want to return to his Host. Because Soundwave is synonymous with safety for him, right?”

“That is likely.” Optimus agreed.

“But you said Hosts usually care a lot about their Cassettes. If that’s true, how did Buzzsaw get like this?” Cody cut in.

The Prime tilted his head. “The last reports of Buzzsaw’s location are many years old. He was last seen on an uninhabited planet that briefly became a battlefield for the War. The Decepticons fled, and the last reports on Buzzsaw are from after Megatron took his army off Centauri-12. It is likely the damage he sustained is a result of him being on his own.”

“So he might have been abandoned?”

“That…seems the most likely scenario, yes. Though Soundwave’s fondness for his Cassettes has always been well known, so I am at a loss as to why he would be left behind thus.”

“Does it matter why?” Cody asked.

“What are you thinking, little brother?” Dani sounded amused.

“If Soundwave abandoned Buzzsaw when he was supposed to be caring for him, then would Buzzsaw really want to go back?”

Optimus reset his optics, startled. “I…had not considered that.” he said after a moment. “I do not know. That is something you will have to ask him yourself.”

Cody perked up. “So you think he would benefit from staying, then?”

Optimus turned to Chief Burns. “If your father agrees, then yes, I do believe so. I have seen the effect you have on bots, young Cody. I believe you can soften even the hardest of sparks. If you are willing to put forth the effort, then there is a chance that you maybe able to help Buzzsaw.”

Chief Burns crossed his arms. “Will he be dangerous in any way?”

Optimus turned to the copter bot still treating the avian. “Blades. Can you disable his weapons systems and battle protocols?”

“Already did.” The young bot sounded distracted. “I disconnected his turbines and anti-gravs too, so he won’t be able to fly. Though I don’t recommend keeping that second part a thing for long. He’s a avian, he needs flight as much as any other flyer.”

Optimus nodded, then turned back to the oldest human. “With those measures in place, I believe that he will be a minimal threat. If he turns out to be a greater risk than you are willing to take, you can always call me.”

Chief Burns considered it, then nodded. “Alright. He can stay. It’s only right to give him the chance.”

Kade frowned. “Is that really so smart? Optimus said it himself! He’s one of the bad guys!”

“But how much choice did he have, if he fought the War his Host joined?” Graham asked.

“Does it matter? The ‘Cons still hurt people!”

“Our War is not so black and white, Kade Burns.” Optimus warned.

“So some political policies and social perceptions sucked! That’s bad, but is it really a reason to start a war?” Kade demanded.

“The Senate used ritual disfigurement as a punishment.” Blades’s voice carried over, sounding distracted.

All heads snapped to him. Kade gaped, and the other humans looked horrified. Privately, Optimus winced. Perhaps that wasn’t the nicest detail to share, but it was too late now.

“What?” Kade sputtered.

“The Senate were the political rulers of Cybertron. They controlled pretty much everything.” Blades mumbled, still focused mostly on Buzzsaw. “When a bot went against them, even in a minor way, they’d use punishment called empurata that involved surgically removing the bot’s face and hands and replacing them with one large optic and a pair of claws.”

Kade swallowed. “Okay. So it was really, really bad. I guess I was wrong.” he said, sounding too sick to care that he’d just admitted to being wrong.

The other humans also looked horrified. Cody looked like his entire worldview had been shaken.

“Cybertron was not kind to all its children, before the War.” Optimus said quietly. “The Decepticons were more than justified in rising up to fight for their freedom. But they took things too far, and now their original cause has long been lost.”

Chief Burns was the first to recover. “That’s often the case, with wars.”

Optimus nodded solemnly.

“We’ll take care of Buzzsaw.” Cody’s voice carried over. Despite how horrified he’d seemed earlier, now he just looked determined. “We’ll show him there’s good in the world. Maybe he doesn’t want to fight anymore. I want to help him.”

The Prime smiled, them dipped his helm. “And so you shall.” he agreed. “When he wakes, tell him that I am leaving him here. I recommend you tell him that Soundwave is on this planet. If you withhold the information, and manage to befriend him, then he may feel betrayed if he learns you hid the fact from him and return to Soundwave on his own.” he warned.

Cody nodded. “I’ll tell him.”

Optimus hummed. “We cannot set him free at this moment. But if you feel it is right, you may also tell him that his other option is that he will remain a prisoner in the Autobot base, but that in that scenario I will have difficulty guaranteeing his safety.” he warned.

Cody tilted his chin up, clearly displeased. “That won’t happen.”

The large bot chuckled. “I hope you are right, Cody Burns.” he nodded at the other humans, flaring his field in a good-bye to the Rescue Bots, and then he was folding into his alt-mode and driving out through the tunnels. He’d get the mainland and call for a ground bridge from there.

He truly hoped Buzzsaw could find happiness. Primus knew the Cassette had earned it.

——————————

Awareness came to him slowly. At first, Buzzsaw was confused. He was fairly certain he’d slipped into emergency stasis. He hadn’t onlined his optics yet, but the messages blinking across his HUD didn’t help his confusion.

Fuel Level: 37%

Warning: Low energon

Movement not recommended

Energy Level: 12%

Warning: Energy rerouted to essential systems

Cause of Energy Drain: Starvation and damage

Recovery time necessary

Internal Communication System: Disabled

Sensor Array: Offline

External Spacial Sensors: Online

Transformation Cog: Offline

Weapons Systems: Disabled

Battle Protocols: Disabled

Self-Repair: Online

Fuel System: Online

Wing Turbines: Disabled

Anti-Gravs: Disabled

Warning: Unknown medical access to internal systems detected

Warning: Unauthorized medical access to combat systems and flight capabilities detected

Self Diagnostic Report: Severe damage and starvation

Low Fuel: Addressed

Armor Integrity: 49%

Fuel Pump: Functional

Fuel Tanks: Shrunken, functional

Intake: Minor rust detected, addressed

Fuel Lines: Damaged, patched

Wires: Damaged, patched

Conclusion: Frame in need of full recovery

Rest recommended

Strenuous activity not recommended

Warning: Presence of unknown Cybertronian and unknown organic life forms detected in proximity.

Well. That last warning certainly warranted some degree of alarm. Red optics snapped online and the avian lifted his helm. His gaze immediately found the aforementioned Cybertronian. It was a small orange and white copter bot, and immediately clear was the Autobot insignia on his chest. For a moment, Buzzsaw tense, his vocalizer releasing a sound halfway between a screech and a growl. He made to stand, to fight off the perceived threat, when the bot pressed him down with a hand between his wings.

“Easy, easy. You’re okay.” He soothed. “My name is Blades, of Rescue Team Sigma-17. You’re on a planet called Earth. My team and I just want to help you.”

His words made Buzzsaw pause and take another look. Huh. That was right. The badge on his chest wasn’t the Autobrand after all. But how? He was fairly certain that Megatron had destroyed the Rescue Force and killed all its Teams. How had this lone team survived? He cocked his head sharply, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“You’re Buzzsaw, right? Optimus Prime was here earlier. He told us about you.”

Well. There went his hopes of his Decepticon status going unknown. And the Prime was here, on this planet? That meant Megatron was doubtless here as well. But who else was?

Blades shifted under his gaze, then sighed. “Just stay still, okay? I patched up what I could. Now your self-repair needs to handle the rest. You need to rest if you want to recover.” He made to leave, then paused. “Also, Optimus told us to tell you your options. You’re on an island called Griffin Rock. You can stay here and stay out of the War, or he can return and keep you prisoner in his base. He said if you go with the second option he’d have a difficult time guaranteeing your safety.” Buzzsaw could see that the small mech was clearly uncomfortable with that last series of statements. He didn’t seem fond of the idea of violence or what amounted to keeping someone against their will.

After another beat, the bot nodded at someone else in the room. Buzzsaw snapped his helm in that direction and saw a small organic. He heard Blades leave, and then the organic was looking up at him. The small creature beamed, and them he was climbing up onto the crate that the avian found himself confined to.

“Hi! I’m the one who found you. My name is Cody.”

Buzzsaw stared, optics narrowed.

“I’m sorry about your choices here, I know they aren’t the best. Optimus doesn’t want you going back to Soundwave though.”

That made him freeze and perk up. Soundwave was on this planet too? A part of him was excited and wanted to seek out his Host. He remembered the kindness, the affection, the gentle treatment. He remembered the safety and security that had come from being bound to the spymaster.

He also remembered the abandonment. Remembered the years of fear and pain and hunger that had followed. Remembered the loss and betrayal, the desperation that his Host would return only to be forced to come to terms with the fact he’d been cast aside.

Buzzsaw clacked his beak, then looked away and forced down the sad coo that wanted to escape him. He felt something on his armor, and looked over to see the organic–Cody–pressing a small, soft hand to the plating of his neck.

“He left you, didn’t he? Optimus told us a little bit about Hosts and Cassettes, and about Centauri-12. You got like this because your Host left you.”

Buzzsaw stared, not knowing how to respond. A part of him, the part that was vicious and angry, wanted to rip off the organic’s limb. The larger part of him was just tired, though. After a long moment of staring, the avian sagged, optics dimming. What was the harm in telling this organic anyway? It wasn’t like he was really a Decepticon anymore. Not really. It also wasn’t like Cody would be able to cause him much harm, anyway.

He nodded, his beak clacking and his wings rustling as he let out a gust of air from his vents. That hand hadn’t left his neck, and it moved to stroke up and down the plating.

“I’m sorry.” Cody said softly. “No one deserves to be abandoned by their family.”

Buzzsaw stared for a moment. The organic had said they’d only been told a little bit about Hosts and Cassettes, yet it seemed he already understood the bond was fairly deep. Either he’d been told more than he let on, or he was just very perceptive. Either way, a part of Buzzsaw couldn’t help but be grateful for the understanding.

He knew he should be lashing out and trying to fight. But what was the point? His weapons systems and battle protocols were disabled, he couldn’t fly, he couldn’t walk, and his fuel levels were too low for him to have the energy to do anything significant. Even without all that, he was just tired of fighting. True, he’d always enjoyed a good, honest fight, but he’d only ever used his more excessive forms of violence because that was what had been demanded of him. He’d had to be violent to survive the wilds before Soundwave, and after he’d had to be violent to fight for his new Host. But he hadn’t wanted life as a fighter, as a soldier. And now, confronted with everything he’d learned, and the last few years of his abandonment…he was tired. He didn’t want to fight this organic. He just wanted rest. He could figure out everything else later.

Besides, the gentle contact didn’t feel so bad. It wasn’t heavy enough to hurt, and it was more reminiscent of the preening he’d used to do with his sister. His optics dimmed, and he let his head come to lay on the crate. Cody didn’t seem offended at his lack of responsiveness. Instead, he felt that small hand move up to stroke over the top of his helm.

“Get some rest, Buzzsaw. I’ll be here when you wake up. I want to help you get better.” the small organic murmured.

Buzzsaw didn’t know what to do with that sentiment. A part of him scoffed at the weakness of it. The other part was too tired and beaten down to care. He released another heavy vent of air, and let his optics slip offline. Moments later, he was slipping into recharge, even the brief moment of consciousness having drained what little energy he had.

——————————

Cody was indeed there when he woke up. It was only for a few moments though, because then the organic had to go to school. Apparently, this planet also has educational institutions. Buzzsaw didn’t have much of an opinion on that. While he was gone, the rest of the Rescue Bots introduced themselves, as did their own organic partners, and he was informed that the organics were called “humans”. Again, Buzzsaw didn’t particularly care. It was useful information, he supposed.

The others left him to himself throughout the day, except for the brief moment when Blades came to remove the energon line feeding fuel into his frame and replace it with a small cube of energon that was set in front of him. After that, he was left alone. Perhaps they sensed his mood, perhaps they were busy, perhaps they didn’t want to talk to him. He didn’t particularly care. It did give him time to think on his situation, though. Obviously, they wouldn’t let him go free. Even if he did promise to not return to Soundwave, he knew he would have difficulty hiding here. Since, apparently, it was very important that the human race didn’t learn about the Cybertronian presence on their planet. One would think they’d have figured it out when the alien war came to earth, but he wouldn’t question it. Still, it meant he couldn’t just be let loose on his own.

He also refused to be an Autobot prisoner. As for returning to his Host…he was torn. A part of him wanted to. But the larger part of him was still hurt. And after his distance from the Decepticons…he wasn’t sure he wanted to return to the faction itself. Pits, he didn’t even have his brand anymore. He’d come across a Neutral medic sometime after Centauri-12, and he’d offered up his services to locate energon in return for the medic’s services to remove the brand. It had been a thin sheet of metal painted purple and welded to his chest, so it had required the aid of a medic to remove without damaging his armor. But it had been done, and then they’d gone their separate ways. He hadn’t worn the Decepticon badge in years.

So where did that leave him? He couldn’t escape in his state, but even when he recovered, what then? What was there for him on this little island? What was there for him on this planet itself? Would it be worth staying?

He must have drifted into recharge at some point, because he was startled awake by Cody’s loud greeting to the others. He jerked, optics flashing on as he lifted his helm. The human blinked when he came around the corner, then smiled.

“Buzzsaw! You’re up!” he called out. He walked over, pulling himself up onto the crate beside the avian. “So, I had an idea! Blades told me you don’t have to be hooked up to anything anymore, and I noticed how your armor seems pretty dirty, so I was wondering if you’d like to get clean?”

Buzzsaw blinked at him. The human gestured to the corner, and he looked over to see a large tub and a bucket that hadn’t been there before. There were rags in the bucket.

“Boulder offered to help. I figured you might feel better if you can get the grime off?” He offered.

He stared for a moment, and then he dipped his head in a nod.

Cody grinned. “Great! I’ll get Boulder. I have to change clothes really quick.”

Buzzsaw cocked his head sharply at that. Clothes?

Cody interpreted the curious gesture for what it was. “Clothes are what humans wear!” he plucked at the colorful things clinging to his frame. “We don’t have metal armor like you guys, and we don’t need it, but we wear clothes to cover ourselves because it’s not considered decent to go without them.” He tapped his chin. “Chase once told me it would be like if a Cybertronian went around without any armor at all.”

Buzzsaw jerked his head back, optics shuttering. Ah. That, he understood. So human had their own version of a protoform underneath their clothing. He did not want to see a fully bare fleshy protoform, thank you very much. He lowered his helm, bumping his beak into Cody’s back to encourage him to go. The boy laughed, then jumped off the crate and trotted away.

A moment later, Boulder came around and smiled at him. “Hey, Buzzsaw. Cody said you accepted our offer to help you clean?” He nodded at the tub. “Is it okay if I carry you there? You shouldn’t be putting weight on your leg.”

Buzzsaw grumbled, but after a moment he nodded. He didn’t exactly want to be carried like a helpless sparkling, but he couldn’t get there on his own. Not in his state. Boulder paid no mind to his grumbles, and instead stepped forward to slip a large hand underneath his frame. The avian was lifted up, then carefully cradled in gentle hands. He was brought to the tub, then lowered into the liquid that filled it. He cooed in pleasure upon realizing it was warm, frame relaxing every so slightly.

Cody chose that moment to return, his lower half covered in something very colorful and the rest of his form bare. He climbed into the tub with Buzzsaw, then dragged the bucket in after himself. On the outside of the tub, Boulder grabbed a larger rag and dipped it into the liquid in the tub.

“Is the water okay? Not too hot?” Cody asked.

Oh, right. This was water. He recognized it now. Other planets had it too. He nodded, watching the Rescue Bot soak the rag in the warm water and hold it out towards him.

“Boulder is going to take care of your armor, and I thought I’d use my smaller size to get in between everything and get all the dust and muck out from your armor seams?” Cody suggested.

Buzzsaw stared for a long moment. That was…rather intimate. But he also hadn’t been able to have such an in depth cleaning since before Centauri-12. He could feel the dirt and grim in between and underneath his armor plates. Even if he didn’t trust these people, he did trust they wouldn’t hurt him. They’d have done so already if they were going to hurt him at all. He could bear some rather intimate grooming if it meant getting clean. He nodded.

Cody beamed, and then Buzzsaw felt the gentle pressure of Boulder wiping off the surface of his armor. While the bot worked at that, Cody chose a rag from the bucket that Buzzsaw now saw was full of cleaning cloths and brushes. The human soaked it in the water, then lifted it and started wiping it along the edges of his armor plates. The avian let himself relax into the warmth of the water, optics slipping offline. He didn’t know what to make of his situation, and he wasn’t sure he liked being forced to stay, but for now he’d enjoy the moment of comfort.

He didn’t realize when he slipped into a state of half-recharge. He was barely aware as the bath finished, and then Boulder transferred him to a large towel which was used to dry him off. Cody went to get blankets while Boulder did so, using the soft fabrics to make a comfier “nest” on the crate that Buzzsaw was returned to a moment later. The avian cooed as he was set into the soft nest, optics offlining fully as he rested his head in the fabrics.

Clean, warm, and comfortable for the first time in years, it didn’t take him long to slip into the most peaceful rest he’d had since he’d lost his flock.

——————————

A few days passed in much the same pattern. Cody would go to school, Buzzsaw would be left alone, and then the boy would return and spend the rest of the day talking with him. The avian never responded, content to listen and learn all he could about this world and the species that dominated it. Things fell into a routine, and he came to be comfortable in it. He even stopped minding the way Cody would touch him and stroke his plating as he talked.

And then the routine changed. Cody came to him after school one day and told him he wanted to have a “movie night”. Apparently, he believed that showing Buzzsaw human entertainment would be a good way for the Cassette to learn about human culture. The avian made no protest. Cody talked to him for the afternoon, then went to have his nightly meal with his family. After that though, he returned for the “movie night”, enlisting the aid of Boulder to move Buzzsaw’s crate in front of a large vid screen.

Cody then joined him on top of the crate, settling into the nest of blankets and wrapping himself in one of his own. He was dressed in clothing that he informed Buzzsaw was called “pajamas”. Then, the movie started and the avian let himself be distracted story unfolding on the screen.

The movie was about two humans under a curse, one who turned into a creature called a wolf by the day and the other who turned into a hawk by night. It was a fairly simple story, and while Buzzsaw certainly found some of the attitudes of the characters to be irritatingly soft he could understand the appeal. He might even say he enjoyed the movie. It was fun. Maybe human entertainment wasn’t as bad as he thought.

And then Cody put on a movie that he said was “animated”, and Buzzsaw was very quickly insulted. The movie was about living cars, except they had no other form to transform into. The main character was a cocky, irritating fool, the tow-truck was the most annoying creature he’d ever been forced to watch, and the mentor was a smug, pompous aft. Buzzsaw hated every character in the movie. If that wasn’t enough, even the setting was insulting.

“What the frag.” he hissed. “How is this garbage supposed to be entertaining? There’s no way those insufferable creatures would have successfully built a civilization. They lack any appendages that would allow them to hold, build, or invent anything. Temporary gripping attachments don’t count, those lack dexterity. Primus, those things would have all died out within the first few generations of their species existence. They certainly should have.”

The movie was paused, and Buzzsaw turned his help to Cody to find the reason. He saw the human grinning brightly, looking thrilled. His plating bristled, and he narrowed his optics.

“What.” he snapped.

“You finally talked.” Cody was beaming.

Buzzsaw shuttered his optics, tilting his helm. Ah. So he had. “Did you think I couldn’t?” he demanded.

“No.” Cody shook his head, smiling. “I knew you could. I didn’t want to push to make you talk to me before you were ready though.”

The avian paused, staring uncomprehendingly. That meant that Cody hadn’t actually thought of him as a simple minded beast. He’d known Buzzsaw was more than that. And he hadn’t tried to force his will on him to make him speak before he wanted to. He had been content to wait. Seemingly as long as he needed to, if Buzzsaw understood the subtext of this conversation correctly.

“Why?” he asked wearily.

“You deserve to be treated with respect.” Cody said seriously. “Just because you look like a bird and don’t have a vehicle mode doesn’t mean you aren’t deserving of being treated like an individual with your own thoughts and feelings. It would have been wrong to push my own wants on you. I want to help you get better. That means going at your pace.”

Buzzsaw twitched. “Many Cybertronians would not agree with you. They would argue I am little more than a beast and thus deserve to be treated as one.” he paused. “My pace?”

“Then it’s a good thing we aren’t on Cybertron, isn’t it?” Cody pointed out. “And yeah. Your pace. I want to help you recover from the things you’ve experienced and discover your own path, discover the things you want to do and the life you want to live. But I know that sort of recovery won’t be immediate, and it may not even be as fast as I want it to be. But that doesn’t matter, because it’s your recovery, not mine. So we go at your pace.”

Buzzsaw stared at the organic for a long moment. “…I don’t understand you.” he said.

Cody smiled. “That’s alright. As long as you understand I want to help.”

He stared for a beat longer, then grumbled and turned back to the movie. He needed to process this. Cody seemed to understand he was done talking, because the infernal movie started up again. Buzzsaw wasn’t paying attention, though. Instead, he was lost in thought, turning over the things he’d learned.

He didn’t notice as the movie ended, and another one started. He did feel it, however, when halfway through the next move is a slight weight settled against his side. He looked down to see Cody had fallen into his own recharge and had slumped against Buzzsaw’s side in the process. The avian didn’t move to wake him. He stared at the slumbering human for a long beat, then heaved a sigh and lowered his helm to rest it on the lip of his makeshift nest. He refocused his optics on the bid screen, paying half attention to the new movie playing. It was something about singing cats. Buzzsaw wouldn’t pretend to understand.

He relaxed, Cody’s warmth curled against his side, and his optics dimming slowly as recharge crept up on him. By the time the movie ended, it had claimed him completely, and he and his odd little companion both slept on peacefully as the credits rolled.

Neither of them woke as Chief Burns came down to retrieve Cody. He paused when he saw the scene, and he turned off the TV, dimmed the lights, and left the sleeping pair to their rest.

As Buzzsaw slept on, his hardened spark cracked just a little. Maybe there was hope for him after all.

——————————

Buzzsaw was watching Cody. He did that a lot as of late. The little human still talked to him a lot, though the avian didn’t always talk back. Most of the time he was content to listen. In the past few days, he’d learned a lot about the odd little organic. In that time, his legs had also fully healed, and his nest had been moved to the floor and tucked into a corner of the bunker so he could maneuver on his own. His wing was still injured, but even if it wasn’t his turbines and anti-gravs were still disabled.

Right now, Cody was quiet. The boy was sitting on a box a bit away from his nest, working one something he’d called “homework”. Judging by the frustrated expression he wore, he was having some degree of difficulty. His curiosity piqued, Buzzsaw stood and stepped out of his nest, walking over to see what the human was working on. He sidled up behind him, tilting his helm to peer over his shoulder.

Oh. It was math. Buzzsaw could work with this.

“You’re missing a two.” he grunted.

Cody paused. “What?” he asked, turning to look at the again standing over him.

“You’re missing a two.” he repeated. “In the third problem. You’re missing a two. That’s why the first part of your answer isn’t matching up with the second.”

Cody blinked, then turned back and looked over his work. He made a noise of triumph, perking up and correcting his work. Then he returned his attention to the Cassette.

“Thanks, Buzzsaw!”

He only grunted, helm cocking sharply.

Cody smiled, used to his non-verbal communication by now.

“So you know some math?” he asked.

“Sure.” he Buzzsaw grunted, folding his legs and settling down. “Laserbeak and I never received a formal education; Cassettes weren’t allowed to. But Soundwave taught us some things after he bound us to him. He wanted us to have a greater knowledge of a variety of fields.”

“Laserbeak? Is that another Cassette?”

“Yes.” Buzzsaw paused, his optics dimming. “My sister. My twin, actually.”

Cody sat up, eyes wide. “You guys can have siblings?”

“Yes. It’s a rare occurrence, but it happens. Though Soundwave did have another set of Cassette twins besides us, too.”

The human stared, then seemed to realize something. “She’s…gone, isn’t she?”

“No.” he huffed. “If she was, I would have felt her loss in my spark. But she left me when Soundwave did. I cannot entirely blame her. If he told her to leave, she would have had to obey. Still, it does sting.” Buzzsaw admitted, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

“I’m sorry.”

And Buzzsaw didn’t understand, but the human did seem genuinely upset on his behalf. He sighed, shaking his helm to get rid of the memories.

“It’s whatever.” he grunted. “It happened. I can’t change it. Gotta live with it.”

“You miss her.”

Buzzsaw froze, his optics snapping on to the human. He stared, then couldn’t stop himself from slumping. “I so. I miss all of them. Primus help me, but I really do miss them.” he hissed, hating himself for it.

Cody put a hand on his chest. “I’m sorry they left you. You didn’t deserve it.”

He went still, then jerked his gaze away and focused on the paper. “Yeah. I suppose. But you have work to finish, don’t you? I can help.”

He seemed to understand that the avian was done with that topic of conversation, because the human dropped his hand and nodded, returning his own attention to the paper. “Sure. Thanks!”

Buzzsaw scoffed. “Don’t thank me yet. Now, let me see those problems. Tell me how you think you need to solve them, I’ll say something if your approach needs an adjustment.”

——————————

Buzzsaw was alone when he woke up. That struck him as odd, especially since his chronometer cheerfully blinked up on his HUD to inform him that it was only midday. He’d checked twice. He dismissed the notice with a grumble, hopping out of his nest and wandering around the bunker. His wings were folded away, the damaged one finally having fully healed the day before. It was a relief to be able to relax it fully now.

He looked around, sending out a ping of his sensors, and picked up the signals of the Rescue Bots above him. He walked over to the large pad they used as an elevator, tapping the console with his beak and letting the platform lift him up. As soon as it stopped, he was walking out of the open doors of the building he’d been informed was called a “firehouse”. He picked up on some unidentifiable noises, following them to what ended up being a court for some sort of ball game. The Burns family and the Rescue Bots were all playing. After a moment of observation, Buzzsaw realized the objective of the game was to get the small ball into the small hoop that the opposite team was guarding. It reminded him just a little bit of Cube.

He made his way over to where a bench was sitting to the side of the court, hopping up onto it. It was just low enough he could manage that much without his wings. Then he turned his attention back to the game, watching curiously as the ball was tossed around. After a few minutes, a stray toss sent it in his direction. Buzzsaw tilted his helm up, catching the ball on the tip of his beak and bouncing it once, then he tipped his head, letting it roll to the top of his beak before he tossed his head to send the ball back towards the others.

Blades caught it, smiling when he saw the avian. “Good morning, Buzzsaw.” He greeted.

The Cassette nodded, turning his attention to Cody as the boy padded up to him.

“You’re awake!” he smiled. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I didn’t expect you to wake up so soon from your nap.”

“It’s fine.” Buzzsaw dismissed. “What are you playing?”

“Burns Ball! It’s version of a popular earth game we adapted for our own rules!” Cody said brightly. “Do you want to play a game?”

“My legs aren’t as efficient as all of yours and I can’t use my talons to grip when I’m on them.” he answered dryly.

Cody frowned, considering. “What if you could fly?”

“Is that really a good idea?” Kade interrupted.

Cody shrugged, then turned back to the avian. “Are you going to leave if we give you back your flight?”

“Where would I go?” Buzzsaw scoffed. “I refuse to return to the Decepticons, and I’d sooner eat my own thrusters than join the Autobots.”

Cody blinked, then beamed. It as clear he understood what Buzzsaw was really saying. It made him want to groan. He was getting soft. When had he gotten so easy to read? And by a tiny organic, no less.

“You won’t leave.” he translated. Then he turned to Blades. “Can you do it?” he asked hopefully.

Blades hummed, already walking over. “Are you sure?

“I’m sure.” Cody confirmed.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Buzzsaw offered in a low drawl. “Cody wanted to fix me, so now he’s stuck with me.”

Blades and Cody both giggled, but then copter bot got to work. The Cassette didn’t move as his turbines and anti-gravs were reconnected with his main flight system, and then Blades was stepping back.

Buzzsaw stood, wings spreading fully. He crouched, then leapt up and activated his turbines. They roared to life, his anti-gravs clicking on, and he let out a victorious shriek as he flew in a wide circle around the ball court. After another few circles and dives, he glided down to land next to Cody.

“So.” he hummed. “How about a ride?”

Cody jerked in surprise, and grinned. “Seriously?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I lack hands. I have no way of holding on to the ball, and my talons and beak would pop it.” he sniffed. “You’d be doing me a favor, honestly.

“Noble!” Cody breathed.

Buzzsaw had learned what Cody meant with that odd phrase in the last few weeks. He lowered his helm and bent his legs, letting the human clamber in to his back. He had a set of thrusters lower down on his back, but unlike Seekers, Jets, or Shuttles his only served the purpose of granting him a speed boost in the air. He didn’t actually need them to get airborne.

Once Cody was seated securely at the base of his neck, Buzzsaw straightened and took to the air. He circled the court, and with a toss of the ball, the game began.

——————————

The rescue missions weren’t unusual. At least a couple times a week, something happened on the island that required the whole team to mobilize. Most of the time though, it was simple. An earth cat stuck in a tree, a lost hiker, a damaged traffic light. The type of thing that only required one or two of the Rescue Bots to handle. Today, it seemed, would not be one of those times.

It had started out peacefully. The Rescue Bots had been out of the bunker, taking care of various things around the island. Boulder was on a “nature walk” with Blades and their partners. Heatwave was with Kade at the school teaching a fire safety class. Chase and his partner were out on a patrol. Cody had remained behind, and he and Buzzsaw were seated on the couch of the lounge watching what the human had called “cable TV”. Buzzsaw didn’t get the point.

Then the program they’d been watching had been taken over by a news report. There was a massive landslide in the mountain that was threatening to bury the whole town. Immediately, the rescue alarm sounded and Cody was racing to the command center. Buzzsaw stayed where he was, as he usually did when an emergency occurred. On the screen, he watched the chaos unfold. Thankfully, the human reporter was there with his camera to record everything.

It didn’t take long for the Rescue Bots to get to the site. It seemed to be progressing well, from what the again observed. Then Blades flew too low, and a stray rock took out his tail rotor. He was forced to land, and the team lost their aerial view. Blades could still help the team on the ground, but without proper “eyes in the sky” as Cody had called it, they would doubtless miss things.

Buzzsaw didn’t really think before he hopped off the couch. He flew to the lift, tapping the console that raised it, and as soon as he had space he was flying up and out of the firehouse. He flew around to where he knew the command center was, noting that the main window was open. Good. He landed on the ledge, optics locking on the screens Cody was viewing. Yes, things were definitely going badly.

“Just hang on, everyone! I’ve called Optimus, he said he’ll be here as soon as he can!”

“Yo don’t need Prime. You need an aerial view. That’s why you’re missing things.”

Cody whirled around. “Buzzsaw!” he cried out. “That’s not possible. Blades is down and there’s no way he can fly with his tail rotor damaged.”

“I know.” the avian straightened. “I’ll go.”

Cody froze. “Buzzsaw, are you sure?”

Before the Cassette could respond, the comm. burst to life. Clearly the others had heard their discussion.

“There’s no time to debate this! Lives are at stake! Cody, do you trust Buzzsaw?” Chief Burns demanded.

“Yeah, Dad. I do.”

“Then give him a communicator and send him out here. He’s right. We need eyes in the sky.”

Cody looked up at him, then nodded. He dug around a drawer, then walked over to Buzzsaw with a comm. unit in hand. He let it magnetize itself to the side of the avian’s helm, and quickly returned to the command console. Buzzsaw would definitely need the comm. His internal comm. system was still disabled. He didn’t say anything to the human, and instead turned and took to the skies.

It didn’t take him long to reach the disaster site. Immediately, he could see where he was needed.

“Heatwave, around the corner from you there’s a boulder baring down on a human couple.” he said sharply.

The firetruck replied with an acknowledgment and went to take care of it. Buzzsaw didn’t pay any mind. He was already focusing on the next issue that needed addressing.

“Boulder, mud and stone are about to take out those houses behind you.”

The bulldozer quickly went to take care of it, digging a trench in front of the houses to keep them from being hit. Buzzsaw moved on.

“Chase, down the mountain from you there’s a human youngling trying to outrun the landslide.”

The police car was quick to move and save the child. Buzzsaw didn’t pay much more attention after that. He couldn’t afford to. He needed all his focus on finding the smaller emergencies within the larger landslide before they could happen. Cody trusted him. He was the first in many years to do so. Buzzsaw refused to let him down.

The boy had earned his loyalty, though damn him if he didn’t know when. He didn’t intend to disappoint the one who had so much faith that he could be more than what he had been. Failure here wasn’t an option.

It never was.

——————————

By the end of the whole ordeal, Buzzsaw was reeling. He’d been part of a team again, even if only temporarily. It had been…nice. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it. But now the job was done, and he was on his way back to the firehouse. The others had remained behind to do cleanup work, and apparently Chief Burns would also need to explain his presence to the political leader of the town with an excuse.

He made his way back to the firehouse, his processor starting to calm after the excitement. As he neared, his sensors picked a Cybertronian signal in the courtyard where the basketball court was. It only took a moment to realize who it was. Cody had called in the Prime for help, but that help was no longer needed. That didn’t mean the message had gotten to Prime in time, though.

Sure enough, when the firehouse came into view Buzzzsaw saw Optimus Prime standing in the courtyard. Cody was at his pedes. The avian flew down, alighting on the back of the hoop in front of the larger bot. He would ordinarily have landed next to Cody, but he’d spent too long seeing the Prime as an enemy to put himself on the ground in front of the large mech.

“Buzzsaw.” Prime greeted. “I was told you provided aid to the Rescue Bots.”

Buzzsaw didn’t say anything.

“Tell me, what would you do if you were able to leave?”

“I can.” he snapped. “I’ve got flight. I’ve had it for a while.”

Prime’s lips twitched. “So you have.” he agreed. “Then what are your intentions?”

“Cody decided to get into my business. As far as I’m concerned, he’s stuck with me now, whether he likes it or not.” he scoffed.

Prime’s lips twitched again. Clearly, he had been able to read between the lines to understand what Buzzsaw was saying.

“In that case,” he rumbled. “How would you like to join the Rescue Bots here on Griffin Rock?”

Buzzsaw shuttered his optics. “What.” he deadpanned.

“Would you like to become a Rescue Bot, Buzzsaw?”

“I don’t believe that’s up to me, Prime.” he pointed out. “Or you, for that matter. You don’t lead the team.” he sneered.

“Oh, for Primus’s sake.” Heatwave’s voice came over the comm.

Oh. That was right. Buzzsaw was still hooked into the team’s communications system. The Prime must have opened the previously silent comm. line to Heatewve for at least part of the conversation.

“Choose for yourself, Buzzsaw.” Heatwave continued. “If you want to, we’ll all be happy to have you. You proved to be a good teammate today. No one will have a problem with it. Pit, I’m the one who told Optimus to make the offer before you got there.” Then the comm. clicked off.

“Oh.” Buzzsaw said.

“Indeed.” Prime seemed amused, the fragger. Buzzsaw hoped he got slagged. “What Will it be, then?”

The avian cocked his head sharply. “Ugh.” he made a noise of disgust. “You know what? Fine. The soft idiots need all the help they can get.”

Prime chuckled, then lifted his hand. The armor in his palm shifted, and then a laser was shooting out and hitting Buzzsaw’s chest. There was no pain from it, and he watched as the Rescue Bot badge was put on his armor. The laser stopped, and the Cassette spent a moment staring at the new mark emblazoned on his chestplate.

He looked up when he heard Prime move. “I must leave now, I’m afraid. I am needed elsewhere.” the mech said, inclining his head towards them. Then he walked to the road, folded into his alt-mode, and drove off.

Buzzsaw stared after him, and after a moment he fluttered down to land next to Cody. The human smiled up at him, then lowered his gaze to the new badge on his chest. He lifted a hand to press it over the black lines, looking pleased.

“You’re sure?” he said softly.

Buzzsaw scoffed. “I wouldn’t have agreed if I wasn’t sure. Like I told Prime. You made the decision to get involved with me, so now you’re stuck with me. I’m not leaving, no matter how much you want me to.” he said, his sneer lacking all its usual bite. He paused. “Besides,” he continued, his voice just a notch softer. “You really aren’t all that bad.”

Cody blinked once, then beamed.

Buzzsaw had to look away, feeling almost embarrassed. He hadn’t dared to hope for so many years, but it seemed Primus had deigned to show him kindness after all.

He’d finally found a new roost.

———————————————————————————————————

Well. That’s done! That was long. It took me multiple days to write. But! It’s done!

I had fun with it. Buzzsaw is a grumpy asshole and Cody is very indulgent of his dramatics. And yes, I made him capable of speech. I know he and the Laserbeak can talk in the comics, so.

Also, please excuse my liberal use of headcanons for some of this. Anyway. I hope y’all liked it! I’m sorry it took so long to get out.

Until next time, folks!

[hops-hunny]

Just a Touch Away

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4k

Request: Not necessarily?? A few people did ask for this though and who am I to deny you of that?

Summary: Part two of Just a Flight Away

Warnings: Sex, just sex. There’s fluff too, a good lil 50/50.

A/N: The fact that this is longer than the original makes me fucking laugh cause how tf did that even happen?? Hope I didn’t disappoint. I also got lazy half way through editing so only like the first 2k words are edited.

Neville was beyond ecstatic to be walking hand in hand with his girlfriend. It was better than anytime his mind would wander to it during the day and anytime it’d lull him to sleep at night. He looked down at her, watching as her eyes looked at everything in amazement. It reminded him of his first year at Hogwarts, wide eyed and full of curiosity of all there was to be explored. (Y/n) seemed to be soaking it all in as if she took even the smallest of blinks, everything would vanish before her eyes.

“It’s a pretty place, isn’t it?” He started off, catching the girl’s attention. She looked up at the tall lanky Gryffindor smiling at him. God he couldn’t believe that such a doll was his. This was his girlfriend.

“Yeah! It’s amazing! I love how tall the ceilings are and all the intricacies such as the carvings around the walls and floors, the big open windows, it’s all to die for!” She exclaimed, bouncing up and down a bit. How could one girl be so cute? Neville knew that if she asked, he’d do absolutely anything she wanted without a second thought. Anything she wanted and needed he would give to her at the drop of a hat.

“Yeah, that’s not even the most magical part. No matter where you go in the castle, you can find something new almost every time. Be it a hallway, room, whatever.” he stated, smiling as the girl gasped in amazement.

“We have to explore then some time while I’m here! However, today I wanna spend time with you doing you know,” she started, looking away as she was overcome with shyness, “Doing couple things.” Neville felt his heart swell at her words, trying his best not to drown her in all of his affection.

“Of course, petal. We can do whatever you want today! How bout I take you to Honeydukes and then we end the day off with the greenhouse? I know you wanted to see that first but trust me when I say it’s even more of a beauty during the evening than it is at this time.” He said, reaching down to push a bit of her hair out of her face. He laughed some as her eyes lit up at the mention of the sweets shop. When Neville and (Y/n) would send each other things, Neville would send her treats as much as possible. He had learned early on about the girl’s large sweet tooth and second stomach for dessert.

“That sounds amazing! You know how much I love treats!” she said, clapping her hands as she began to jump more. Neville looked at her fondly as he watched her fit of excitement but quickly stopped as he noticed her frown. “I don’t have the right currency to buy things yet though. I still only have dragots. That’s okay, we can j-”

“Did you really think I was going to make you pay, flower? What kind of man would I be to invite you out and not pay? I insist, shop to your heart's content today.” He said, reaching down to stroke her cheek. She leaned into his touch, smiling up at him.

“I love you, Nev.” she mumbled, closing her eyes in content from the warmth that radiated from his hand. Neville felt his breath hitch as he looked down at her, face flushing a bright red. It wasn’t the first time they had said it to each other. Sure, they ended their letters with it more often than not but to hear it from her voice? A voice that was so beautiful, so full of love, aimed towards him? She was making it really hard for him not to just have his way with her right then and there.

“Oh angel, I love you more. Come here.” He pulled her closer, bending down to rest his forehead on hers, smiling as he leaned in to kiss her. The (h/c) haired girl met him halfway, smiling into the kiss as she wrapped her arms around her neck. He continued to kiss her, deepening the kiss before remembering that they were quite literally in the middle of the hallway. He pulled away, placing a quick chaste kiss on her lips. Confusion took over (Y/n)’s face as she looked around them. In different parts of the hallway, a few guys were looking in their direction. “What is it, darling?” he questioned, grabbing her hand as he continued to walk. She simply dismissed his question, offering him a soft smile as he guided her towards the nearest castle exit. That’s when he started to hear it. It wasn’t loud, but it was loud enough for him to hear.

“God she’s a right fitty, isn’t she?”

“Yeah I mean look at the ass on her. She’s one of those Ilvermorny girls.”

“Could’ve fooled me. Looks straight outta Beauxbaton.”

“Longbottom’s a fool, I would’ve had my way with her as soon as she stepped out the train.”

Neville felt his jaw clench, trying to calm himself down. He had to get them out of here before (Y/n) heard, because if she had? Those guys would see exactly why he was put in Gryffindor in the first damn place. “Petal, do you want a piggyback ride? I know you mentioned wanting one in a few of your letters. Come on, hop on.” he said, bending down some so she could get on. (Y/n) felt her eyes light up at the idea. She took a large running start before jumping on the boy’s back, squealing as he lifted her up. Neville secured her on his back, biting his lip at the feeling of her plush thighs filtering between his fingers. They felt heavenly, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander to what they’d feel like wrapped around his- they had places to be. He didn’t want his precious girl to hear anything that those twits were saying about her so quickly he took off down the hallway, smiling as the girl laughed, tightening her arms around his neck.

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

(Y/n) gasped as her eyes zoomed in various places all around Honeydukes. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before. She ran to various different snacks, reading the packages of them. “Look Nev, look! These look sooo good. They’re strawberry flavored! I love strawberry.” she said, holding up the box of snack cakes in his face. Neville laughed at the girl’s enthusiasm for sweets.

“I’ve had those before. They’re quite good! I think you’ll enjoy them ‘specially since you like strawberry so much. Do you wanna get them?” he questioned. (Y/n) pondered, humming slightly before nodding, setting them in his hands. She wondered how he could contain himself, especially when there were so many sweets around! Who wouldn’t wanna buy practically the whole store? 

As they walked around the store, (Y/n) would occasionally find something else that piqued her interest, ask Neville’s opinion on it, and then throw it in his arms. She did this numerous times until she realized how full his arms were. The tower of sweets and treats almost covered his face. However, she couldn’t help to admire how his arms flexed and tensed under his shirt only imagining how nice they’d feel-

“Are you done, petal? It’s okay if you’re not! You can get a few more things, I just wanna get back to the greenhouse before it gets too dark.” he explained, turning to the side so he could see her face.

“Yeah, I’m done! Are you sure this is okay? This is a lot of stuff Nev.” she questioned, biting the inside of her cheek guilty.

“Nonsense! Nothing is too much for you, flower. Let’s get going, I’ve got a few plants that I need to water in about,” he set the treats down on the counter before looking at his watch, “30 minutes. Perhaps you can help me?” 

“I’d love to! You know that’s my favorite part of growing plants is the watering part. It’s almost like you can see them do a little happy dance when you do! Well, some of the more animated plants quite literally do but you get what I mean!” she rambled on, quickly latching onto his arm once more. Neville listened to her, grabbing the bags as they began to walk out of the door only for him to bump into Malfoy himself. Great.

“Ah I see, loneliness has stricken you again huh Longbottom? I don’t know what all those treats will do for that!” He snickered out, high fiving Crabbe and Goyle. Neville rolled his eyes, frankly quite done with the bloke. He didn’t give him that same sense of fear as when he was younger. In fact, now he found him to be quite annoying. 

“Actually they aren’t for him, they’re mainly all for me! Neville’s personal pick is just this little box right here.” she said, holding up the small box before placing it back in the bag. (Y/n) had to stop herself from letting out an audible gag as the blonde’s eyes traveled up and down her frame.

“You must be Neville’s American cousin, right? I-”

“Didn’t ask. Come on babe, let’s go.” The small girl said, dragging her boyfriend along with her. Draco stood there in shock as the two walked off still in amazement in how Neville had such a hot American girlfriend already.

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

“Woah! I’ve read about this plant actually. Even had a small personal one of my own.” The (h/c) haired girl said, positioning the magnifying glass up and down around the leaves to view it better. Neville whipped his head towards her in excitement.

“Really? Wait, had?” he asked, watching as the girl shrugged sheepishly.

“Yeah, turns out it wasn’t really suited for the climate in America. Such a shame though! She was a real beauty.” She said, still not looking up at the plant. Neville smiled at her fondly, walking closer to her as he stood behind her.

“Yeah, she is.” he muttered, wrapping his arms around her waist as he turned her around.

“Something tells me we’re no longer discussing plants.” she joked, wrapping an arm around his neck as she brought the other to stroke his cheek. He leaned down hovering his lips above hers.

“I’m afraid we aren’t.” he closed the gap between them, kissing her with all the anger, all the passion that had built up over the day. He was tired of it, tired of men speaking about her like he wasn’t right fucking there. Obviously that wasn’t his sweet flower’s fault but god was he furious. He took one of his hands, trailing it from her waist to the underside of her skirt. With one hand he flipped it up and with the other he began to grip and prod at one of her cheeks harshly. He trailed his free hand up to her jaw, holding it tightly as he pulled away from the kiss leaving a trail of saliva in its path. “Do you want to-”

“Yes.” she cut him off, taking one of his hands and leading it under her shirt. He moved his large freckled hand up her torso until he reached her breast. His eyes widened as he felt the lack of bra.

“You little minx.” he sneered, gripping her ass in both of his hands as he sat her on top of the working table. He pushed her shirt above her breast, watching as her nipples began to harden from the cool air. Neville got on his knees pulling the girl to the edge of the table. He couldn’t help but pause and admire how beautiful she was. The setting sun reflected off of her sweaty (s/c) skin making it appear as if she was glowing. The shadows and light hit the parts of her soaking panties, revealing just how wet her cunny was. Neville let out an audible groan at the sight, adjusting his tightening pants. “God you’re bloody gorgeous. Look at you baby, all soaked just for me?” He ran a finger over her cloth covered slick, smirking as the girl jumped a bit letting out a soft whimper. “Let me treat you, yeah?” he whispered against her clothed cunt before ripping her panties down and stuffing them in her back pocket (He certainly was not giving those back). 

His eyes were glued to the sight in front of him. It was more beautiful than any photograph that she had sent. No matter how many times she had written to him about how wet she was, nothing could prepare him for the true extent to what it was. The entirety of her pussy was covered in slick, running down her folds and now onto the table. He watched as her pretty little hole clenched and unclenched around nothing practically begging to be filled. But he couldn’t just yet, he had to do what he had been dreaming of for years. He moved a steady hand forward rubbing her clit in circular motions before licking a fat strip across her slit as he began to suck on her clit. (Y/n) gasped, bringing a shaky hand down to his head pushing him in forward and, who was Neville to deny her? Sure, Neville lacked experience severely. They both did. But he’d be damned if he came up from between her legs without giving her an orgasm first.

Neville took his middle finger, gathering a bit of her juices on it before slowly sinking it inside of her. He began to pump it in and out, making sure to be gentle and slow while maintaining a steady pace. (Y/n) threw her head back, letting out a cross between a whimper and a moan. It wasn’t like she hadn’t pleasured herself before, she had...numerous times. Sometimes even multiple times a day. But god his fingers? They were so much thicker than hers, so much longer touching and hitting spots she didn’t know were possible. “A-another please.” she whimpered, bucking her hips onto his face. Neville looked up at her, humming around her clit in agreement before he slid in another digit into her tight hole. He felt his dick strain against his pants more at the sound of her moans but he could ignore it. This wasn’t about him right now, it was all about him pleasuring his perfect girl.

“Do you like that, pretty? Hm? Like when I get my fingers covered in you.” He muttered against her, groaning as she clenched around his fingers. He drove them deeper keeping with his slow pace. Neville didn’t want to rush this, he wanted to appreciate the girl who he loved, the girl who kept him up late into the night as he stroked one out. He knew they would share many intimate moments in the months to come but he definitely wanted their first to be the most memorable.

 He continued to lick and suck on her bud, pulling away every so often to lick at the stray juices that ran down her folds. “Just one more, pretty. I’ve gotta make sure you’re nice and stretched out for me.” she nodded lazily at his words, feeling herself growing closer and closer by the second. (Y/n) was in such a state of euphoria, never wanting it to end. She let out another strangled moan as Neville slid in a third finger, scissoring them a bit before beginning to make a come hither motion within her. The tips of his fingers rubbed against her spot sending her into a fit of nonsense phrases and words, the most recognizable of them being “please, please. Yes, yes, yes!” which only encouraged him further. With more force he repeatedly began to jab at her g-spot growling as the girl came apart above him. (Y/n) gasped, falling back onto the table as her body grew tense, releasing all over Neville fingers. She continued to moan as her arousal slipped past his fingers running down the table as the boy fingered her through her high. Neville pulled his fingers out, stretching them apart as he stared at the arousal that was connected between the spaces. He stuck his fingers in his mouth, letting out a soft moan at her taste. Just as sweet as he had pictured it. 

After a few moments of heavy panting, (Y/n) felt a bit better and decided to sit up. Her (e/c) eyes trailed down her lover’s body as they reached the bulge in his pants. ‘If it’s that big through his pants, I don’t even want to imagine how big it is out of them!’ she found herself thinking. No wonder he had used three fingers, she wasn’t even sure that that was enough. She reached both her hands out, beginning to unfasten his belt pulling down his pants before freeing his member. She held back a gasp as she watched it slap up against his lower abdomen. Neville’s cock was a shade darker than him, it had no curve to it but it didn’t matter. He made up for a lack of curve with the sheer girth of his cock alongside the length (which was most definitely half of her forearm, if not more). She took a deep breath before hopping off of the table and kneeling before him.

“What’re you doing, love?” he asked, reaching a hand down to stroke her cheek.

“Returning the favor?” she replied as she reached a hand forward to grasp him. She looked at him confused as he lifted her back up, setting her back on top of the table.

“You can do that some other time. Right now is about pleasuring you.” he said, moving his lips to her neck as he began to suck and kiss along it leaving a trail of marks in its wake.

“A-are you sure? What about you? I’d feel bad that I’m not pleasing you in return.” a soft frown took over her face. Neville grabbed her face softly, tilting it towards his own.

“Oh darling, taking care of you brings me a greater pleasure than anything you could give me. Tonight is about you so let me just take care of you, yeah?” he asked, looking into her eyes full of love and a deep amount of arousal. She sat there unsure before nodding, leaning up to capture his lips. Neville returned the kiss, trailing the hand that was against her face to wrap gently around her neck. He pulled away, tugging her lip with him. “I’m gonna put it in now. Are you ready?” he asked, lubing himself up with the reminisce of her first orgasm.

“Please be gentle.” she whispered, hiding her face in his neck as he pushed his tip against her entrance.

“‘Course love. I’ll do my best.” he placed a kiss on the top of her head before beginning to sink into her. He let out a hiss at the tight heat of her velvety walls. When he was in enough, he brought both his hands up to embrace her, whispering soft phrases of encouragement as he slid into her tight hole. He couldn’t help but feel guilty at the sound of her whimpers and cries, feeling awful that he was the cause of it.  After what felt like ages, his pelvic region finally met with her mound. He pulled back gazing at the sight as he let out a soft moan.

“Y-you can move now. Feels good.” she stuttered out, gasping as he pulled out some. Neville thrusted into her deeply to test the waters, watching her facial expressions. He felt himself grow relieved when he saw how deep in pleasure she was. Her eyes were clenched shut, chest rising and falling quickly. He took that as a sign to continue, thrusting into her deep and slow. He gripped her hips tightly, deepening the intensity of his thrusts. The boy was absolutely enamored. How could she be so cute in such a filthy state? Tongue lulled out the side of her mouth, hair tousled messily as sweat covered her delicate skin. Seeing her in such bliss only fueled his need to please her, to see her come undone beneath him. He continued to pound into her, every thrust filled with passion. 

“You’re so fucking pretty, angel,” he growled out leaning down to capture her breast in his mouth. He swirled his tongue around her nipple, nibbling softly before pulling away and doing the same to the other one. (Y/n) continued to let out a string of moans, tightening her grip on the Gryffindor's back. She couldn’t help but dig her fingers into the flesh of his back, trying to ground herself as her lower region received immense amounts of pleasure. She let out a cry of gratification as he began to rub at her clit with circular motions, digging her heels into his lower back. “God just look at you. You feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock. Who’s making you feel this good?”

“Y-you Nev! S-so good. It’s so deep, so big.” she whimpered as she began to feel hot tears form in her eyes. “Love you so much, I love you!” she sobbed, resting her head on her chest. It was all too much, too good for her to handle. Neville cooed at her adoringly continuing to thrust into her. “C-close….”

“Hold it for just one second of love. Let’s cum together.” He grunted. After a few moments, he felt a familiar pit in his stomach signaling his release. His thrust began to grow sloppy, hips stuttering but as he went to pull out, the girl stopped him.

“Please don’t. I’m on birth control. Want you to cum inside of me, want you to fill me up.” Neville gripped at her hips harder, pistoning them with an animalistic amount of pace. The moans of them both echoed off the greenhouse walls as they both released, collapsing against one another. (Y/n) shuddered, whimpering at the feeling of his thick seed spilling inside of her. It seemed nonstop, pouring and pouring deeper inside of her, dribbling out past him and onto the table.

Neville let out a breathless chuckle at the sight, feeling a sense of pride at the fact that it was his seed dripping out of her. No one else. Not Malfoy, not his idiot friends, and certainly not those morons from in the hallway earlier. He stroked her skin gentle, watching as she shuddered at his touch. “Sorry love, it seems I left quite the mark on your neck.” he mumbled, brushing his fingertips along the healing mark he had left. It was a big purple hickey, the same shade as the bruises on her hips.

“S’okay. I’ll have something that reminds me of you. I think I accidentally gave you one too when I came. I couldn’t help myself.” Neville viewed his reflection in the small hanging mirror across the room. Moving his long shaggy hair to the side, he saw a small reddish bruise, the indent from her teeth still visible. 

“It’s a shame that I didn’t get to show you the rest of the plants you wanted.” he frowned. He had totally forgotten that was the entire reason they had come to the greenhouse today. Neville wanted his girl’s first day at Hogwarts to be absolutely perfect in every way and he had ruined it in his own fit of selfish greed.

“Are you kidding me?” she asked, sitting up. She winced slightly but continued on. “This was way better than any sort of plant! Nothing says ‘welcome to Hogwarts’ like what we just had.” Neville let out a breath that he wasn’t even aware he had been holding.

Even though this was the first day of them meeting in person, he knew this was the girl for him. As the sun set and they both held each other in their arms, the pair couldn’t help but wonder what was in store for them. What adventures lie ahead? Only time could tell. But luckily they didn’t have to spend another minute apart. (Y/n) was no longer just a flight away, but a mere inches apart.