#heatwave inspired bit of writing

[krwioholik]

The Diary of Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy

Summer, 1271

The heatwave we've had here is beginning to reach levels I can only describe as unbearable. I must conclude that I am simply not made for such temperatures, though of course, that isn't necessarily factual. I am not used to them would be a more accurate assessment, but when I feel like my skin is about to melt off my very bones, I feel a proclivity for more dramatic expressions rising within me.

Dettlaff seems to be faring with the heat far better than I, and I find myself harmlessly jealous of him in this regard. It is true that it is largely thanks to his general state being far better than mine, but I do think he is also more accustomed to such temperatures after the long time he has spent living in Nazair and Ebbing. Myself, I have rarely travelled that far south and having spent the majority of my life in the northern kingdoms, I feel myself far more acclimatized to the wet and cold than dryness and heat.

I have fallen over in a bout of weakness yesterday.

I blame the heat, of course, though I'd be a fool not to recognize I am simply not in the shape I wish I were in yet. And, as Dettlaff points out to me still, pushing myself too hard. Yes, I know it. Even so, I am also not made for prolonged idleness. And I do attempt to rein some of my restlessness in, to pace myself and not take on too many duties, which in fact do not truly require my attention at the present time. But without something to do I feel my mind slipping into melancholies and boredom. Merely reading does not satisfy the urge any longer either, though I appreciate Dettlaff's attempts in bringing me increasingly outlandish tomes to capture my curiosity. He is, for the most part, very successful, and I am certain I will read all of his gifts in time.

Tomorrow night I plan to start a batch of distillate which I hope will give me something to occupy both my mind and hands in a fairly non-strenuous way. And I shall put this promise to myself, and to Dettlaff, here in ink: I will not move the still and flasks myself but I will ask Dettlaff for help.

[reiderwriter]

Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (GN + AFAB)

Summary: The AC at the BAU decides to take a holiday during a summer heatwave, and when you decide the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion, you unwittingly catch Spencer’s eye.

Genre: smut (18+, minors DNI)

Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!reader, semi-public sex, fingering, car sex, degradation, name-calling, edging, praise-kink, dumbification, basically Spencer is a tease and the reader really gets off on using his official title.

Word Count: 3.8k

Authors Note: Hello! This is my first posted fic, so any feedback is welcome and absolutely appreciated (I tried to keep it GN!AFAB but if you notice any gendered pronouns pls lmk immediately!) I finally decided to start writing again after a few years, so I might be a bit rusty but I recently started rewatching Criminal Minds and I am so in love with Spencer! This little fic was inspired by @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge, so big thank you to them for the inspiration! This could also develop into a multi part fic in the future, so if that’s something you’d be interested in, please let me know in the tags and comments! XOXO K

Part two!

After three years in the BAU, you should know that summers in Quantico, Virginia are nothing to play about. Sure, it could be cloudy sometimes, and summer rain did allow for some relief, but with a heatwave on the way and a week of office work ahead of you, it seemed every member of your team was excited for the office AC. 

That was, of course, until the maintenance department sent out an office-wide email telling you it was “undergoing work” for the foreseeable future. 

You received the email during your commute, and immediately turned around to change. There was no way you were surviving in your slacks and long-sleeve shirt, and, truth be told, you knew that your bosses wouldn’t mind if you were a little more relaxed in your workplace attire if you weren’t going to be spending time in the field. 

It took all of thirty seconds to shoot a message to Garcia, telling her that you’d be a few minutes late for your daily carpool, letting her know the situation so she didn’t hack into your car GPS (which she still claims she absolutely did not do the last time you accidentally slept in, but would in an emergency just to know you were safe). 

She quickly sent you a reply: “put on that floral number we picked up last week! Between you and Morgan, I'm hoping my eyes will be feasting today 😉.” 

You let out a little chuckle as you read the message, and quickly complied. A sundress didn’t sound too bad right now at all. 

The dress in question was perhaps pushing it slightly for office work. It was short, and you knew immediately when putting it on that you would spend the day pulling it down to a more appropriate length. But the shade of blue fit your skintone perfectly, and the floaty material was exactly what you needed to beat the heat. 

Grabbing your keys again before you could second guess yourself, you didn’t let your mind linger quickly on the thought that perhaps the dress was a little attention grabbing. And perhaps there was someone in the office whose attention you wanted to grab. 

-X-

The commute into the office wasn’t bad, but stepping out of your nicely temperature regulated car into a wall of heat made you thank yourself for your foresight. And it seemed that the rest of your team was dealing similarly. Walking into the office, you noticed that Prentiss had divested herself of her shirt, sitting comfortably with an iced coffee and red tank top, an electric fan inches from her face. Morgan was similarly outfitted in lighter clothes than usual, and you could audibly hear Penelope’s brain working to come up with the best heat related compliment for her work husband. You couldn’t see Hotch or Rossi, but you knew they kept their own back-up units in their offices, so they wouldn’t be struggling at all today. You assumed JJ, too, was in her office.

“Well, look at you Cutie. You’re gonna break some hearts today, I know.” You roll your eyes as you throw your bag down. You were used to Morgan’s playful teasing by now, but compliments and affirmations were always welcome. You grimaced looking down at your desk chair and realised you had another problem. Your very recent purchase of a black leather office chair was going to absolutely make your day a living hell. Before you resigned yourself to a day of sitting in the orthopedic seventh layer of hell, your heard the angelic call of your office BFF.

“It feels like the devil’s armpit in here, god, do not expect an miracles from me today, I’m collecting my laptop and immediately moving away from all the heavy heat-producing machinery in my cave. Anyone got any space at their desk for me to work at?” 

“Yes!” You replied a little too quickly. 

“Feel free to make yourself at home, Pen, I have to look over some files with Reid later anyways so I’ll just pull up a spare chair to his desk, it’s all yours.” You thanked your lucky stars that everyone was too hot to tease you about your imminent proximity to the office’s Boy Wonder. 

It turns out hiding a small, tiny, stupid crush from a team of FBI profilers wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but you were confident in thinking the only one who had clocked on so far was Penelope. And that was only because of your weekly girls nights and an unfortunate habit of spilling secrets while intoxicated. Sure, the others still teased sometimes, but that was only because the two of you were the easiest targets. And they just didn’t know how on the nose they were sometimes. 

She gave you a quick look, of the ‘we will be discussing this later�� variety but didn’t say anything else and quickly excused herself to collect her things. 

You quickly pulled up a (non-leather) chair next to Reid’s and straightened out your dress as you started searching for the file you were looking for. Although you absolutely had an ulterior motive to intruding on his space, you actually did have work to do. But the heat, and the knowledge that you’d be working closely with Reid again any minute now did nothing to help you stay focused. 

Of course, having worked on the same team now for three years meant that you’d been alone together before. In all honestly, he was your partner of choice for any field task and you complimented each other well. The two of you worked together on Geographical Profiles for the majority of your cases, using your people skills, and his practical knowledge to gain insight into the locations unsubs lived, worked, murdered and hid their victims. And of course, you were friends outside the office, too. But you felt there was a distance between the two of you that made itself known the minute you stepped off the Jet or out of the bullpen. 

As you searched the desk, you let your mind wander to what he would look like in this heat. You knew he didn’t deal with the heat well, and could often be found with his shirt sleeves rolled up and top buttons undone on the cases in the warmer climates. You thought about him panting in the heat, pushing his hair out of his face, glistening with sweat and grumbling quietly about the heat. You specifically thought back to a case from a few weeks back, where the two of you had an awkward run-in with an automatic sprinkler when you made your way to interview a witness. His purple shirt had ended up soaked, and on day six of the investigation, his go bag was thankfully short of replacement clothing. So he’d sat in the precinct, shirt semi-transluscent, completely oblivious to your brazen oggling and sudden lack of anything intellectual to say. Or anything to say in general. 

It was only as you felt yourself getting warmer (a particularly impressive feat on today of all day’s) that you had to pull yourself out of the fantasy. But of course, as you stood up to get yourself a cool drink, you realised you were face to face with the man of your fantasies. 

“Y/N? Did you need something?” He looked down at you, with a soft smile on his face. 

“Oh! No, it was Garcia, she, um, she needed somewhere to work because her office is practically a sauna with all those computers. And I was thinking, we still need to work on that report on the geographical profile from the last case, so I offered her…my…” You trailed off, noticing you were rambling and allowed yourself a second to look at the man in front of you properly for the first time that day. 

It was going to be a miracle if you got any work done ever again.  

Like you, he’d opted for a change in uniform. He’d rid himself of his usual waistcoat-cardigan combo and was left in a button down shirt. It was, as you’d hoped and prayed, open slightly more than usual at the top. You frowned unconsciously as you realised he had also pushed his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, unhappy that you wouldn’t get to watch him do it in-person, his veins popping out as he exerted himself in the smallest way. 

A few seconds of silence passed, and you had to make yourself tear your eyes away from a droplet of sweat that was neatly making its way down his throat, tracing a line that you could only hope to one day follow with your lips.  When you snapped your eyes up to his, he nervously did the same, gripping  his bag a little tighter to him. 

“Oh, yeah that sounds good, um, let me just put my bag down and we can, uh, get started I guess.” 

“Yeah of course. I was just gonna grab a drink first, do you want one?” 

“Sure, yeah, a coffee would be good.”

“Okay, I’m no expert but that cannot be healthy in this heat. I know you’re practically a caffeine addict at this point, but I’m getting you a glass of water and you’re going to thank me, okay Doctor?”

He rolled his eyes and settled comfortably into his seat, but made no complaints as you walked away. 

-X-

“This is ridiculous, how can they expect us to work like this?” Agent Prentiss grumbled from her desk. 

“Oh, come on now, Prentiss, you can’t be complaining about a little heat, now.” 

You rolled your eyes at your coworkers playful back-and-forth, doing your best to not melt into your borrowed seat. You’d been working side-by-side with Reid for the last three hours and the heat was now unbearable. You were stuck to the seat in an uncomfortable way, especially with the extra exposed skin from your dress. It had ridden up your legs more than you expected it would, so you were constantly shifting in your seat attempting to keep yourself decent. 

The heat rolling off your teammate didn’t help. You had assumed that his love of cardigans, scarves and layers in general meant that he usually ran on the cooler side, but he was practically burning up next to you, making any and all accidental touch near intolerable. 

Each accidental brush of his fingers as you passed files between the two of you, each knock of your knees together under the desk as you moved to read over one-anothers shoulders, and every time you got up for another drink, it’s like he’s read your mind because he stood up at the same time and you had to awkwardly untangle yourself from the mess of desk chairs and office furniture. With every touch, you feel yourself getting hotter and hotter, the heat pooling between your legs embarrassingly.

It’s only when, later in the day, he brushes the seam of your skirt with his fingers when reaching over you with his other hand for a file you know for a fact he does not need, you realise that all of those accidental touches may have been absolutely intentional. 

Lowering your voice to a whisper, you bring your lips closer to his ears.”Spence, what was that?” You try to keep your voice steady, but his fingers are stil lingering closer to your sensitive areas than you found comfortable.

He drops his eyes to yours, looking you in the eye for the first time since you started working together in a comfortable silence. 

“What was what?” He asks innocently, his cheeks flushes as he starts drawing small circles on your thigh.

“You’re touching me. You’ve been touching me a lot today, Doctor.”

“Oh, I’m Doctor now, am I?” He smiles at you before quickly moving his attention back to the file he was reading. 

“Don’t change the subject.” You feel your whole body flush, as he ignores you and continues his reading, not removing his hand from your leg the entire time. 

“S-Spencer, I’m serious.”  He looks at you again then, and your heart jumps into your throat as you realise he’s removed his hand from the hem of your skirt, only to have it return under the material, moving closer and closer to where you really wanted him. 

“You know,” he whispers under his breath, so quiet you’re sure that no one could overhear, “you look really pretty in this dress.”

Your brain is short circuiting as you feel his hand on your inner thigh, failing to register the implication of his words as you do your best to stammer out a reply. 

“A-actually, Garcia chose it out for me. She said that you would-” you cut yourself off before you can say anymore. You’re surrounded by a room of your close friends and teammates and you’re doing your best not to beg your incredibly attractive coworker to push his fingers into you right then and there. Biting your lip so you don’t say anything else, you try to stand and shift away. 

But Reid is there, and with his other hand he maneouvers you even closer to him somehow.  

“She said I would what, beautiful?”

He’s so close now and you find yourself again staring at his exposed neck, wanting nothing more than to bury your head in him and kiss and lick and bite until he gives you what you want. The little circles he’s drawing on your legs are removing your inhibitions quicker than any alcohol could. 

But then he grips you a little tighter, and forces you to look up into his eyes again and respond. 

“She said that you would, uh, she said that you would’nt be able to take your eyes off of me. We were shopping together and she was just teasing and, well, yeah.”

“All dressed up for me, then? You thought you’d test the theory and see if she was right?” 

And suddenly he’s ghosting his fingers across your panties and you’re doing your best to not make any other noises as he looks you deep in your eyes.

“Do you think she was right, Y/N?” He asks. But before your brain can catch up and choose whether or not to answert, he’s pulling away. He’s standing up and he’s walking over to Morgan, file in hand, asking questions about another previous case file, and you’re left sitting at his desk questioning if any of that actually just happened.

-X-

You spent the rest of the day in a daze. Luckily, your team was so busy complaining about the heat that you were sure none of them noticed the tension you carried through the rest of your day. With the AC still not working, Garcia had gained permission from Hotch to head back to her own apartment to finish up the day with more appropriate equipment, and had quickly evacuated your desk, allowing you to retreat back to your own space. 

Emily had finished her own paperwork early due to a well-timed bet with Morgan, and had taken herself off to JJ’s office, and Morgan was meeting with Hotch in his office to discuss a potential death row intervew. So with the end of the workday in sight, only you and Reid remained in the bullpen. 

After your little run in, you knew that you weren’t going to get any effective work done. Emily had once joked that Reid’s high IQ gets slashed to 60 every time he comes in contact with an attractive woman. At the time, you’d laughed, joked along. Nowthat it was your reality, it wasn’t as funny to you. 

He’d played with you, called you beautiful, had his hands on you in the most frustratingly dizzying way- and then just as soon walked away from you. It wasn’t as if you wanted him to take you right then and there, in front of the entire office. 

In fact, you’re quite sure that no matter how horny you were, you’d have stopped him before he went any further that publically. But you weren’t as sure you wouldn’t have dragged him off to a supply closet and forced him down on his knees and under your skirt. 

To be short, you were pissed. He had left you, hot and bothered, on a day where you literally could get no relief from the heat. 

You watched him work for a while after that. His desk faced away from yours, which meant you could covertly watch him whilst he worked and he would be none the wiser. After catching yourself staring a hole into the back of his head for the fifth time in an hour, you  grunted out a curse and started packing your things up for the day. Unfortunately, you were just loud enough to catch the man’s attention. 

“Leaving so soon, princess?”

“Yes. It’s hot and I’m tired and I just want to go home and take a cold shower and get into bed.” You started packing your things up again, but you quickly noticed that Spencer was doing the same. 

“Are you leaving as well?” You asked, your stomach doing a small flip in apprehension of his answer. 

“Yeah. I’m also hot, and tired and a cold shower sounds amazing right about now.” 

You flushed at even the slightest change of a double meaning. Did he want to shower with you? Was he really going to step over that line? 

He continued to pack up his things calmly, and you did the same. You walked towards the elevator, and it wasnt until he reached from behind you to press the call button that you realised he was so closely following you. 

“And besides, your bed sounds amazing right about now.” The hairs on your neck stood up as he whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning against your neck as you felt heat pool between your legs for the second time that day. You froze up like a deer in headlights, and as the elevator dinged open, you felt Spencer walk you in, press the button, and close the door before making his next move. 

“You didn’t answer me earlier, you know? When I asked about the dress? Do you think Garcia was right?” He had crowded you into one corner of the elevator, and your brain was still short-circuiting. Shit, maybe you were the one whose IQ was cut in half, because the man in front of you seemed more confident than you had ever seen him before. 

His placed his hands on the guard rail either side of you, as one of his legs found its way between yours and you let out a small whimper, then cursed yourself when you saw the smirk growing on his face. 

“Come on, Princess, use your words.” He teased again. 

“She wasn’t right.” You breathed out. “You looked at me a few times, but nothing too long and nothing…inappropriate, but-”

“But what?” He pushed his leg further into you, moving his hands to grip the fabric at our waist,  and suddenly you were counting your blessings that no other agent in the building had decided to use the elevator right now. 

“But you can’t keep your hands off of me.” His lips crashed into yours the second you finished your sentence, as you desperately grabbed at his hair, desperate to feel more and more of him against you despite the sticky heat. 

He pulled away reluctantly as the elevator came to a stop in the basement carpark, but you still desperately clung to him, pressing kisses into his jaw and down his neck as you breathed in the scent of his sweat on his skin. Your words had failed you, but your body was desperate to communicate exactly what you needed. 

He chuckled as he pulled you off of him, stroking your hair as he pulled you to your car. Opening the passenger side door for you and taking the keys from your bag, he placed a kiss to your temple, pulling away only enough to whisper into your ear. ”Which one of us can’t keep their hands off the other now?” 

You were hot and delirious and you were not going to interrupt him now. He climbed into the driver’s seat, something you knew he didn’t do often, and placed his hand on your leg again as he drove. 

“Spread your legs,” he ordered as soon as you were far enough away from the building. You complied immediately, not wanting to interrupt anything the man might do to you. “Good girl,” he mumbled as he immediately picked up where he left off earlier, rubbing your sensitive nub through your underwear. Your dress was pushed up now 

“You know, Garcia was right” he spoke again, his fingers snaking their way under the elastic of your underwear. You could only moan in surprise, desperately close to getting exactly what you wanted.  

“I have been staring at you this whole day. You came in this short dress, practically on display for anyone to see.” His fingers were now slowly circling your clit, going torturously slowly as you bucked up your hips for some much needed friction.  

“When you got me that glass of water, I followed you, you know. Watched you reach for the glass on the top shelf, saw your skirt riding up. We’re you so desperate for me to notice you that you put yourself on display for the entire office like a little whore?” You moaned in surprise as his words registered in your mind. 

You tried to reply, to deny and protest your innocence, but he chose that minute to thrust a finger into you, the awkward angle forced by your position in the car creating a beautiful friction. You started rocking your hips quicker against his hand, opening yourself up to him fully, and grabbing his wrist so he couldn’t pull away for a third time that day. 

“You can’t even deny it, Look at you using my hand to get yourself off. Are you gonna come for me? Gonna do it right here in your car?”  You moan out a yes as he adds another finger, stretching you out further as you whimper around him. 

“Fuck, yes Spence, I’m a whore, your little whore.” You feel that familiar coil in the bottom of your stomach tighten and soon your releasing yourself all over his hands.  Gasping for air, your head falls back on the passenger seat, and you release your grip on Spencer’s hands. 

“Good job, princess, you did so well for me. We’re almost home now, let’s get you in that shower.” You whimper a little, nodding as you allow your brain to settle once again, completely comfortable with letting Spencer take control and do whatever he needs to do with you for the rest of the night. 

-X-

[bobluvbot]

sweet nothing

pairing: remus lupin x f!reader  summary: you thrive in filling everyone’s cup. remus makes sure your cup gets filled too. wc: 2k cw: descriptions of food, eating a/n: written after a long writing break pls be nice heheh p.s. thank you for all the love for my sirius angst fic!!! i saw yalls comments and messages and appreciate them sm!! i don't have plans at the moment to write a sequel/pt. 2 sorry :'( someday when i get inspiration i probably will but for now it's a standalone <3

The pesto pizza was a big hit.

The news of the heatwave came a month early so it gave ample time for James to rein in the necessary house improvement tasks: yard weeding and tidying, adding small stone steps for the toddler, and ordering the inflatable slip and slide pool for the sweltering summer days. And he was adamant to do it all by hand, no magic, so he “could get the full experience”. Lily likens it to being married to a professional landscaper and contractor at once, thankful that her decision to go on a date with James Potter during seventh year continues to be a great lifelong investment. 

You can still recall Remus’ early morning grumbles when james calls him over for help. It came to a point where he’d beg you to pretend to be mad at the setup, reasoning that “ james is taking him away from his lovely pretty girl” when his best friend calls him at 6am to start the day mowing the lawn. 

James would roll his eyes at excuses falling off of Remus’ lips, but he’d sincerely take your concerns to heart. Lovingly, you’d wave Remus off and give him pecks on both freckled cheeks, encouraging him to go and learn how to tackle on house repairs so he’d be well prepared when it’s your turn to build a family home. 

This usually gets him going, Remus’ secret lover boy tendencies kicking in, but not without grumbling and frowns thrown haphazardly (easily treated with touching and kisses). 

Sirius was off travelling the world for most of the month, much to Remus’ dismay, as he was then promoted as the first-in-line friend in James’ contacts. He did however send over a fancy outdoor pizza oven in lieu of his absence, and it completed the space. 

On the days where you finish work early, you’d join Lily as she picks up her little boy from nursery and take a leisure walk around their quiet neighborhood, a babbling toddler in tow. Then you walk into the perfect setting: the gentle hum of the AC, sunrays reflecting on the white marble countertops, a nicely prepared spread of afternoon snacks for the three of you, and the floor to ceiling glass wall separating the living area from the backyard offering a glorious view of two sunkissed shirtless men doing hard manual labor. Lily nudges you, handing a bowl of pistachios. “A snack for the show.” You return her glance, eyes both twinkling with playful mischief. Maybe the summer days aren’t as bad as it seemed.

But then the first draining day of the heatwave hit. There were minor adjustments to be made still, like some scaffolding to be tidied and hedges to be trimmed, but the heat had a special way to beat down the morale of any living thing exposed to it for a while, and it finally hit James. Early on a Saturday morning, you decided to accompany a still groggy Remus on his usual Potter house renovation shift to make him feel a bit better that you were also losing sleep with him. To both your surprise, James comes from the garden to meet you, looking worn out but wears a proud grin. “It’s all done,” he claims, clapping his hands together and you see him holding the wooden culprit that magically finished hours of yard work in a few minutes. So much for no magic. 

“Get some sleep and come back in the afternoon for the party.” Remus grabs your hand and apparates back home in record time, before James gets a chance to recant his words. 

Completing a full 8 hour sleep cycle does wonders to the mind and soul. A well-rested Remus was filled with high spirits, doting on you as you both get ready for the party. He showers you with compliments the moment you step out of your closet, giving him a twirl. Once the bashfulness sets in, you run to him and try to nuzzle your heated cheeks on his chest, anywhere to escape his lovely sappy gaze. He sits on the bed so you can’t hide, and looks up at you like you hung up the moon. It was maddening.  

“You look stunning, my love,” he says, hands on the back of your knees, sliding up under the hem to meet the soft skin of your thighs and resting them even higher. It took immense strength not to buckle down and fall into him. You’d foreseen this response the moment you decided to wear that white babydoll dress, but actually going through it is a terrible nightmare. As much as the idea of bailing on the summer party and letting Remus do whatever he pleases with you in this dress sounds very appealing right now, you had promised Lily that you’ll help with the cooking and food, and ghosting your best friend for a dick appointment sounds very juvenile. So against your questionable judgment, you grab your boyfriend’s face, give him a chaste kiss, and murmur against his lips, “james and lily will kill us if we ditch.” 

Even though it was an intimate gathering of close friends to celebrate the finished yard, you forgot to account for the amount of kids, partners, and pets that your friends have accumulated since graduation. James had to transfigure the already long dinner table even longer and double the number of chairs to accommodate everyone. The slip and slide also was transfigured into an actual waterpark, complete with a lazy river that kids seemed to enjoy after going on the slides. 

While it was definitely chaotic, it didn’t feel suffocating like packed events usually make you feel. It’s likely because of the familiar faces wherever you look, the ease of conversation just flows. Remus was anchored to your side until he wasn’t, whisked away by both James and Sirius as they announce to everyone who’s listening how his valiant efforts in renovation has resulted in the beautiful yard they were in today. You giggle at the endearing sight of your boyfriend furiously flushing pink while his loud best friends continue to brag about him. It’s just how the marauders would be back in Hogwarts, with you watching their shenanigans from afar whilst nursing a terrible, terrible crush on Remus. Only difference now is that you get to take him home. 

You eventually get whisked away too, thankful that Lily came right on time as you were starting to melt in the heat. The inside of the home smells and feels like heaven, as the chilly air from the AC carries the scent of freshly prepared ingredients and whatever concoction Lily’s currently tending to in a pot. Careful not to disrupt the comfortable quiet, you give her a back hug, a silent thanks for fixing up everything you’ll be needing for the pizza you vowed to make, before getting to work. 

You’ve gone over the recipe and prep so many times that you could do this with eyes closed. The pesto sauce was freshly made a day prior, a delicious result of your raid in your aunt Molly’s garden and fridge. Before you knew it, the only thing left to do was place the pizza into the oven, to which Sirius was very happy to do so he could flex his expensive purchase. 

The chatter didn’t die off even when the dishes started rolling out of the kitchen, everyone now raving of how good Lily’s cooking have been, James not helping by proclaiming, “'m pretty sure my heart isn't the only thing she's stolen—she's got everyone's taste buds wrapped around her finger with her cooking too.” Making his wife flush pink and hit his arm playfully. 

When it was time for your dish, the stakes were quite high and you were feeling a bit nervous. At home, Remus practically inhales everything you make which provides you a good ego boost, knowing that you don’t need to be the best, as long as you don’t accidentally poison someone from your cooking. 

Soon enough, the scent of freshly baked pizza filled the air, mingling with the soft murmur of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. You stand by the head of the table, hands deftly making slices enough for everyone, continuing to scan the crowd, ensuring that everyone is being taken care of.

"Here you go, aunt Effie,” you smile, handing her a generous slice. “Here’s a bunch for you, Fred, careful not to spill and please share with your brothers!" you try to say quickly, but only see a spur of red hair and small hands before they run back to the water slide. 

You soon get a groove going and start to move down the line of smiling guests and waiting plates. Too distracted that you jump a little when you feel a warm presence at your side. Without ever needing to look, you knew it was Remus, who’s now carrying a plate with a slice you don’t even remember handing him. 

Without a word, he picks up the steaming slice and brings it to your lips. You welcome the taste, finally understanding the praise everyone seems to be throwing at your wake. You make a mental note to thank your aunt for lending you her recipe. Remus has his free hand cupped near your chin, ready to catch any crumbs or drippings that might stain your pretty white dress. 

Butterflies in your stomach erupt and fight for space, your entire body vibrating with giddiness and affection for your lovely boyfriend. That distracted look in his eyes as he feeds you in between your efforts in feeding everyone makes the warm fuzzy feeling worse, because you know he’s doing this without much thought, like second nature. That it’s just common sense. That it just goes without saying that his love knows you, fills the needs you don’t even realize were there in the first place.

You wonder through the afternoon then early evening what you’ve done in your past life to receive this love. Maybe you saved a cat from a burning building, or watered a dying plant that had magical powers to heal serious illness, or stars aligning just right to have you exist in the same timeline as Remus. 

You find yourself buried in blankets and clad in a worn sweater, twenty something minutes in a romcom movie in the comforts of your tiny apartment. Remus slides in beside you with a bowl of steaming buttery popcorn and another can of your favorite sparkling water (which he hates with a passion). Your eyes drift to your opened one on the side table, now seeing that it’s almost empty, a few sips left. 

Remus snorts at an obscure joke one of the characters says in passing, and you snuggle up to him, maybe hugging his arm a little tighter than usual, afraid that a love this gentle can vanish between your fingers. He turns and recognizes the look on your face, returning the soft gaze. His free hand brushes a stray hair away, fingers lingering on your cheek. 

“Thank you,” you find yourself murmuring. “For taking care of me.”

You had this conversation long time ago when you first started dating. Having been in some relationships and situationships before Remus, you thought you’ve seen it all. Known the twists and turns, what to ask for and when to keep quiet, what you owe and don’t. But he comes and does things that drove your mind haywire, body screaming foreign! unknown! when he leaves sweet and short scribbles on post-its and sticks it to random places that you’re bound to see somehow, your favorite fruits magically appearing on the basket after finishing the last piece yesterday, being able to count on one hand times where you had to touch the wheel and drive. Its all natural, unprompted, again like second nature. as much as you hated to admit, you’re a control freak. but it's easier this way when you know what comes and goes, what happens and what doesn’t, what won’t happen if you don’t do anything to get it. being with Remus and knowing his love is a shock as it is a clean slate. to unlearn roughness and rigid and know to be soft and vulnerable. 

you’d thanked him. when he gave you a confuddled look, like he didn’t just make your heart grow two sizes bigger in one day. you then started enumerating things he did that made you feel appreciated and loved. you were expecting him to be happy that you see and celebrate his effort, any reaction honestly but a frown. “you don’t need to thank me for those things,” he had said, holding your hand and gently rubbing circles when he sensed that his reaction scared you. “That’s how I show my respect and care for you. ‘s nothing special, just what’s right.” You couldn’t stop the ugly sobs that came after that, when you realized that yes, this was the bare minimum of a healthy relationship, but you made space for less because that’s all you’ve ever gotten, even when you’d ask. 

This time however, maybe because its near midnight and you’re both worn out for the day, Remus lets you. “Always.”

[callalillywrites]

Surprising His Omega

I've been surrounding myself with so many wonderful alphas in one of my all-time favorite verses. It made me a little sad that I couldn't have an Alpha!Steve in that verse even though I adore my Beta!Steve.

So, I decided to make a new verse just for Alpha!Steve (Nomad look). What better way to debut him than with the lovely challenge of the Horny Hoes Hootenanny by the amazing @yenzys-lucky-charm and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork. I'll admit this got away from me a bit, but I do hope you enjoy.

Relationship: Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!Reader

Prompts Used

🍁 A: "Oh, come on, grump. It will be fun, I promise” / B: "What do I get if it's not?" / A: " What do you want?" (small tweaks)

🍁 A/B/O

🍁 partner plans surprise event/night

🍁 autumn Getaway

Extra Wheel Prompt: A Quickie

Word Count: ~1850 + Bonus at end (355 words; based on this post)

Summary: You've been feeling pressure for too long, and your alpha is determined to transform your grumpiness back into the sunshine you typically are. So, he decides to surprise you with a little autumn getaway.

Warnings: implied smut/allusions of it, grumpy reader, sweet and doting Steve Rogers, some spanking, some teasing, mostly fluff though, let me know if I missed anything

A/N: I wrote this story in a fit of inspiration. It’s proofread but all mistakes are my own. Please be kind as this is the closest I've gotten to writing smut in such a long time, and I'm not sure how I feel about it.

I do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

*****

It’s been a long month.

Between the heatwave that descended on your city and the trials and tribulations heaped on you at work, you’d hit your limit. Your usual sunshine demeanor has taken one too many hits until all you want to do is grump and grumble. Maybe hide away until life decided to be kinder to you.

But that wasn’t possible.

Your alpha would never allow you to wallow. That wasn’t his style.

Sure, he’d let you rant and vent to your heart’s content when you needed it, but he never let you stay low for too long. He needed and loved your sunshine too much to see it dimmed or diminished due to life.

No, your Steve always came up with a plan to bring your bright smile back on your face. He liked that bounce in your step and the cute wiggles you did whenever you were truly happy.

So, it shouldn’t have been much of a surprise when he leaned in the doorway of your shared apartment’s living room. His arms crossed over his broad chest while he regarded you for a moment before saying, “Get up, sweetheart. We’re going out.”

You glanced at the smile on his face and burrowed further into the blanket covering you.

“No thanks.”

“Oh, come on, my little grump.” He pushed off the wall and dropped next to you. His hands made quick work of removing the blanket from you and tossing it across the room. He ignored your glare as he pulled you into his lap and pressed a kiss to your temple.

You couldn’t help grumbling, “I’m not a grump.”

That earned you an eye roll and a huffed laugh.

“I could smell your grumpiness from the hallway, sweetheart. So, get up. I have a little surprise for you. I think you’ll really like it. At the very least, it’ll be fun. I promise.”

You did like his surprises.

Yet, you resisted, which really wasn’t like you. That told you more than anything that you needed whatever your adoring alpha had planned for you.

It didn’t stop you from asking, “What do I get if it’s not?”

“Hmm,” Steve pressed another kiss to your nose this time as he considered you. A chuckle slipped out when you wrinkled your nose because of his beard.

You had to fight not to squirm when he rubbed his beard down your cheek to your jaw, little kisses and nips tickling your skin. It grew worse when his lips and beard found your mating gland. On his way, he made sure you saw the playful twinkle in his gaze.

His teeth nibbled along his old marks. Shivers danced along every nerve and had you unable to sit still in his lap. No doubt by design with the way he kept doing it.

When you made to get away, he tightened his hold on you but finally relented.

You gave him your best reproachful look as you crankily mumbled, “You never answered my question.”

“I don’t need to because I know you’re going to love it.”

Your look turned withering at his teasing assuredness.

As much as you wanted to be mad at him for messing with your perfectly acceptable plans to sulk, you couldn’t. He was a good alpha who always did his best to make sure you never lacked for anything, especially his love and attention.

After another moment passed in quiet, Steve relented again. “Okay, okay, beautiful. What would you want?”

Well, you hadn’t expected him to actually answer your question with one of his own. That wasn’t his style, so you had to make sure your answer would be a good one. It needed to be something you actually wanted while also having the power to surprise your alpha. If you didn’t keep him on his toes, then what was the point?

While you continued to ponder how to answer, Steve kept himself distracted by moving one arm so he could trace patterns where your hoodie’s sleeve had hiked up. His lips resumed their earlier teasing with little nibbles and nuzzles against your neck until you couldn’t take it another moment.

Gripping handfuls of his hair, you tugged his head backward until he could no longer reach you with those sinful lips of his.

“If I don’t like whatever you have planned,” you tightened your hold in his hair to make sure you had his full attention while also pulling a groan from him, “then you owe me one of the best quickies wherever you’re taking me. Don’t care where you do it or how, but I want you to rock my world in the shortest amount of time possible.”

His eyes darkened with promise at your words, but you refused to give into that look.

You arched a brow at him. “Do we have a deal, Alpha?”

The way you emphasized his designation worked the way you hoped it would. Another groan escaped him, louder this time while his lustful eyes closed.

“That’s a dirty trick, and you know it,” he growled, his voice low and almost menacing in ways that had you shifting your position on his leg. His hands moved to your hips and held you still. It wasn’t like you couldn’t feel the evidence of your effect on him against your thigh.

If you felt a bit more daring, you might’ve teased Steve some more.

When he did open his eyes again, his lustful gaze met yours.

“Yes, ‘mega. We have a deal.”

He held you another moment before finally setting you on your feet and smacking you on the ass.

“Now, love, go and get dressed in something warm. You’re going to need it for the drive. I’ll handle everything else.”

You moved toward the bedroom but turned back. “Wait, how far are we going?”

“Uh-uh.” Steve shook a finger at her. “Not going to ruin my surprise, sweetheart. Now, go. It’d be nice to get there before it gets too late.”

The sun had gone down not long ago, but it went down earlier during these late Autumn days.

Within thirty minutes, you had changed into the warmest clothing you had within your summer wardrobe. It hadn’t been much which reminded you to dig out your winter clothes as soon as you could. The nights dictated warmer pajamas though the days still held a touch of warmth when the sun shone down on a cloudless, windless day.

Trading your cami and shorts for a longer sleeved shirt and some form-fitting jeans, you picked up the hoodie you temporarily removed and wiggled back into it.

Emerging from the bathroom, you spotted your overnight luggage sitting on the bed. Your brows rose as you took in the items Steve had chosen for you while including brand-new toiletries that he must’ve picked up on his way home.

You couldn’t help wondering how long he’d been planning this surprise.

The amount of clothing wasn’t much, which spoke of a shorter surprise, yet that didn’t mean much where your alpha was concerned. He’d once treated you to a week-long trip where he’d not only bought you new clothes for the week but almost everything else your heart desired. Steve loved to spoil you with the money he made, and you’re happy to return the favor in your own special way.

“Bout ready, sweetheart?”

You nodded. “Just need to grab my boots from the closet.”

“Already packed in the car. Came back to grab you and your bag.”

True to his word, he strode into the room, zipped up the zipper, and lifted the bag off the bed. While he had only one arm available, that didn’t stop him from swooping low and lifting you over his shoulder. As the world tilted, you could still make out the chuckle that left him at your shriek, wholly unprepared for his stunt.

To pay him back, you reached down and smacked his ass. Once for the one he’d given you earlier and another for not warning you before turning you upside down.

“Save it for our destination, love,” he murmured, another promise clear in his voice.

At the car, he carefully set you back on your feet before opening your door and helping you in. With you secured in the passenger seat, he closed your door, opened up the back door, and tossed your bag onto the seat in quick, efficient movements.

He surprised you when he got into the driver’s seat and reached behind your seat. In his hands, you found your favorite blanket and draped it across you, tucking you in. Though, he made sure to leave a space for his hand to creep under the cover and rest against your thigh after he started the engine.

The trip took you both out of the city and into the Catskills.

Soon enough, he pulled off the main road onto a private one until you came upon a modernly rustic cabin. Steps from the unpaved drive led to a wraparound porch and the large front door. The outside gave you a hint of the luxuries and open floor plan awaiting you inside. Small electric lanterns sat in the windows, giving the place an ethereal glow.

As Steve killed the engine, he turned toward you, asking, “So, sweetheart, do you like it? It's ours for the weekend.”

“No, I don't like it,” you shook your head but met his gaze while a smile emerged across your features, “I love it. And I love you.”

You leaned over the console and grabbed his cheeks in your hands. Tugging him close, you pressed kiss after kiss against his lips until you were both breathless.

Steve finally urged you out of the car and into the house, handing you the key to the front door. He would follow you after gathering your things from the car.

The earlier hints did little justice to what you found inside, wandering about the place. Your eyes couldn’t take it all in. You couldn’t help noticing how your surroundings were erasing the grumpiness that had weighed you down these past weeks.

When warm hands gripped your hips, you didn’t even startle. No, you melted into the solid chest at your back and let your alpha hold you for several precious moments.

“Happy?” he murmured in your ear.

You hummed your answer.

“That’s good, love,” he suddenly lifted you into his arms and carried you towards one of the doors down the hallway, “but I’m certain I can make you much happier in, say, five minutes. Is that too long for a good quickie?”

“But, I didn’t win our deal,” you couldn’t help spluttering though your thighs had already begun to rub together.

Steve merely grinned down at you. “Seems to me you did. I promised you’d like it. Love is not like, so I’ve got some making up to do. After your quickie is done, I’m going to make sure you’re properly fed, then I’m going to take my time tonight until you no longer remember your own name. How does that sound?”

“You can do whatever you want, Alpha. I’m at your command.”

Bonus:

Long after Steve had you forgetting your name, he had you spread across him. His hands ran up and down your back in soothing caresses while he pressed kisses to your hair every so often. Your heartbeat slowed to match his.

"What happened at work to have you at your grumpiest today, sweetheart?"

Heat suffused your cheeks as the memory came back. You did your best to hide your face in his neck. Maybe if you could distract him with a few strategic nuzzles and nips, then you could try to forget.

He wouldn't be distracted.

Lifting your face up by your chin, he kept his sharp, knowing gaze on you until you broke, whispering, "I had to write a company-wide memo. In the span of three paragraphs, I couldn't type hope to apparently save my life."

That got you an eyebrow lift.

Knowing your alpha he wouldn't let you get away with explaining further, so your cheeks heated more as you grumbled, "I kept typing hoe instead of hope. Happy now?"

Steve didn't say anything at first.

His brows rose though.

Then, his shoulders shook, and your head dropped back to hide your face in his neck. A groan slipped past your lips.

"Oh, sweetheart." His laughter escaped him then.

You grabbed a pillow and hit him with it, grousing, "It's not funny. Do you know what would've happened if my boss hadn't proofread it before it went out? I'm still embarrassed it happened at all."

Steve's hands came up in a surrendering gesture even as his laughter continued to escape in chuckles now and again.

"My poor 'mega, has your alpha not been taking good enough care of you?" His voice dropped to a husky timber that never failed to send a shiver of promise down your spine.

You glared at him though a smile did peek through. "My alpha takes very good care of me, but I wouldn't mind being reminded again how good that care is."

His scent thickened with his desire as he shifted until you were under him. His beard tickled your ear. "Your wish is my command, sweetheart."

*****

Main Masterlist

If you've read this far, you are absolutely my favorite. I'm opening up requests to write a few more stories for the Horny Hoes Hootenanny. Send me a few prompts from the masterlist, and I'll see what I can do.

*Now, I'm a fluff writer by nature and haven't yet ventured into the realm of smut writing. I'm working on getting there, so please bear that in mind if you do request something. Depending on the request, I might be persuaded to hint or imply such smut, but I can't guarantee I'll go in full detail.

[lucystark12]

what is ur fave byler fic ever (also i recently read ur fic and its brilliant! really feels like how they would write it)

first of all THANK U!!!

second of all, i don't actually read a lot of byler suprisingly enough. you'd think since i write it i'd read it, but i really don't.

i read one of the big ones a few years ago that was set somewhere around season three and i didn't really enjoy it all that much because (shamefully) and i literally can't believe i'm admitting this, but my first stranger things phase came months after my 2020 dream smp phase which is famous for it's fics similarly to the marauders. i read tommyinnit's unbeatable method of avoiding sudden death when i was twelve and have yet to read something so good. the first time a fic made me cry was when i read passerine. every time heatwaves plays on the radio all eyes turn my way. i was a little bit jaded from the dsmp and could never really get into byler fics.

however, last july i read one that's still a work in progress called "cursing my name, wishing I stayed (look at how my tears ricochet)" by mikeslawyer on ao3, which did kind of inspire mine. that one was so good it had be looping last call by elliott smith for an hour and fighting back tears.

[macawritesupdates]

Writing Update 8/29/2024

Back to work full-time and off my break so writing updates have become slower! Still going to push onward with big fic updates u_u

Requests are on hold a bit, working at them, but at a rather slow pace as I want to finish up some longer fics and one-shots first <3

STORY UPDATES!

Seven Days to Fall in Love ends tonight! I have it done and working on edits to post it and bring that quick fic to an end. I feel the ending is a touch rushed, but I'm also running out of steam on it, so giving it an ending I feel wraps everything up nicely c: Malevolence of love is 50% done for next chapter. Going to be working on this one to finish it out before the end of September! I have it planned out, just need to get it written. I want to give it some love and bring it to its angsty conclusion 83

Can't Help a Cuddle/Jealous is a Bad Friend BOTH are nearly done and I'm very happy with how they both are coming out! There is some big emotional feels in both that I'm happy with how they played out and just the scenes in general <3 I hope they meet the expectations of all the suggestions given!

Cuddle is a bit harder as I got over twenty suggestions to weave into a coherent narrative, but think I did it justice!

Lessons in Accidental Seduction is nearly done! Finishing up the last scene <3

Spouse Wanted has me possessed and I just write out chapters and edit them in a sitting because I'm giggly over it

Who's a Good Boy is making good progress, as well as Broken in the Ways No One Can See. So should see those maybe next weekish? Depends on how well I write the rest of the week. I've just been on a ROLL for want to write and inspiration! The Yuuji Files has slowed down after writing the silly Toji being forced to look for a job scene....but I think once I get some other long fics cleared, will make it easier to focus on this one <3

Careful What you Joke About is being completely redone for this next arc. I have taken it apart and been redoing the outline for the final two arcs for better flow and to hit the points better. I think it will be a much more solid end when done <3

Mirrored Lives....going to sit down and rehash the ending and figure it out as I think my mental block on it is just dissatisfaction with a few things. MHA ACADAMIA FICS

Jealousy is Not a Good Friend Updates soon and I'm starting to poke at Unsung Heroes again! I SO WANT TO WRITE IT but it is on a backburner for when other things clear up! ONE-SHOTS Pull Me Along if I Can’t Move Forward (MHA: Bakugo/Deku): On a slow boat to getting done haha! But it is still being written! Heatwaves and Curses Don't Mix: A one-shot PWP of Nobara, Yuuji, and Sukuna :b That's it. When You Suddenly Get Another Grandson: The poll idea winner after doing the math.... told from Wasuke's POV of Yuuji suddenly showing up with a moody second twin after eating some mummified finger at school. Desperate Prom Date: Giftfic for an awesome person on twitter who has wanted this story so much.... writing it as thank you for comments and nice art c:

FUTURE FICS TO COME Culturally Insensitive: The sequel to Historically Inaccurate with Yuuji and Sukuna trying to figure things out while meeting with others who have their own possessions going on. Follows along the Culling Game Arc.

Blossoms Born on the Dragon Mountain: The Dragon AU c: Law Meets Disorder: STILL working on it 8I it is a very complicated work to get through. Going to def let some of the big fics finish before it goes out

A Sukuna/Nobara Fic...just feeling the mood to write some more about em :b

[cyberthestarmedic]

Rescue bots x male reader who’s a bot…

Can I pleaaasee ask for a Medic/paramedic rescue bot x Heatwave. Where the two guys have major problems with one another, constant arguing like an old married couple when they denied that they’ll never be that close. I wanna take inspiration from the baby bot episode… since Kade got the baby for a week, I imagine him asking for help with Heatwave and kinda left him with the baby. That just got the two bots to put aside their differences and end up taking it in a deeper way 😭 LMAAAO LIKE

“You’re gonna leave me? Your son?!”

“he’s not our actual baby!”

Heatwave X Medic Reader

Hi! Love this request! Enjoyed writing it and I find it a bit funny as I’m actually a student paramedic myself!

I am going to call the reader ‘Patch’ by the way as it seems like a fitting name!

….

Babbles and Bickers

“Kade don’t leave the baby here!” “You look after him! I’ve got a date! Thanks! Bye!” He shouted taking off down the street as Heatwave groaned holding the babbling baby who didn’t who any better.

Heatwave sighed looking about for who could possibly know what to do with this baby…Patch.

He’d been away the last week at Team Prime’s base for some extra medical training from Ratchet while they had the commotion with this robo baby.

Patch was more a paramedic than medic as his training was much more generalised for a bit of everything and wasn’t specifically for just the army — he had a civil qualification that’s why he had a different title.

besides the point Patch looked too peaceful…a bit of a wind up was over due. Heatwave cracked a smile as he’d tapped the mech’s shoulder.

“Yes Heatwave?” “You’re good with babies right?” “Yes why?” He huffed turning round just to have a small robot baby placed into his servos.

“Heatwave where did this come from?!” He panicked as the firebot only laughed as Patch huffed.

“I mean like seriously this is an odd sparkling-“ “it’s not a sparkling! Kade left me to care for a robot baby! I had no choice in it as he ran off for a date or something!” Heatwave exclaimed as Patch sighed.

“Is this the same baby Cody was telling me about?” “Yeah” “and you’re suddenly incapable of holding him when I finish off important paperwork?” Patch huffed as the mech sighed and took the baby back.

“How long are you going to be?” “Well you missing me already?” Patch teased as Heatwave grumbled “sure. You finished yet?” “Give me half an hour, it’ll be done and I need this time to make sure everything is up to date” he chuckled as Heatwave walked off trying to think what to do.

Heatwave paced as the baby started to cry and he’d barely gotten a break from rescues today already.

He’d rocked the baby as he seen Patch appear a bit more sympathetic this time as he held the yellow dummy (British word for pacifier).

“You were finished your paperwork, I realised it was more like a baby than I originally thought it was and I found it in this care bag that was left in the garage” Patch explained.

”Look I don’t have the right mindset for doing this myself, mind helping?” “It’s no fuss Heatwave, besides I wouldn’t leave our son” he chuckled as Heatwave huffed.

“he isn’t our actual son” “he is for afternoon! Best start thinking it!” Patch chirped as Heatwave shook his head but if this is how he got help he’d play along.

the trio played rolling the ball about. Watched Cartoons, played ‘hide and seek’ where whoever had the baby always found the other making them win.

Heatwave and Patch sat down as the baby napped, it was just them in the bunker so it was peaceful and quiet.

“okay I’ll have to go finished the paper work” Patch said getting up and stretching as he was leaving Heatwave called after him.

“Hey don’t leave me alone with our son!” “I thought you said he wasn’t!” Patch groaned walking back over as the mech smiled.

“Oh and I did miss you. It made for a long week with my favourite mech to wind up and maybe even see” he chuckled as Patch huffed rolling his optics but smiling as he sat back down flicking on a tv show as the baby slept.

…

Sorry for it being so short! But I hope you enjoyed it!

Cyber 😊

[llettucestuff]

This was supposed to be a short thing about a hc I have where Chase’s frame is a bit colder than normal, and Heatwave’s a bit warmer. Instead, this kind of derailed and became… whatever this is. It’s very self-indulgent and probably a little OOC lol. This particular fic has Chase and Heatwave as Amica Endura’s btw, but I won’t always write them like that.

ALSO I haven’t written for Transformers in like, a REALLY long time so please excuse any missed terminology :]

ALSO ALSO Chase is kinda inspired by @/delkios HCs here on tumblr from like 2016, and this series on AO3, which is also inspired by delkios. More on that in the tags. Enjoy!

———

Chase muses about the general nuances between him and his Amica, and their overall relationship in relation to Griffon Rock.

Or, Chase runs cold. Heatwave runs hot. They make it work.

—

Despite his core temperature being at an optimal point for functioning, Chase still ran decidedly cold, through no fault of his own. He’d been that way ever since he was a sparkling, sitting in front of heaters trying to warm up his endlessly cool servos and pedes, never really feeling truly warm, servos always either burning hot or in their natural state of permanent cold.

His Amica, the mech after Chase’s own spark, on the other hand, ran hot like an earth furnace. Chase recalls being told various stories of Heatwave trying to cool himself down, sneaking into freezers and other places mechlings like him shouldn’t be. It was almost funny, the way they were trying to achieve the opposite of what the other was. Maybe that’s why they work so well together.

Chase’s servos were always a touch too cold to be pleasant or fully “normal,” digits sometimes stiff with inclement weather coupled with a chilled frame, Heatwave’s palms always warm and grounding, frame hot like his temper.

They were equilibrium for each other, opposites in the regard of outward frame temperature, always ready to cool one down or warm the other up. It worked, and that’s why they were Amicas.

(Not just for that sole fact, Chase would input, musing that Heatwave’s companionship meant much more to him than his admitted handiness as a personal heater).

That fact, that is, their cool and heat swapping tendencies, hasn’t changed in the many, many vorns that they had known each other, even pre-Amica Endura status. So, given that, it isn’t expected by either of them for it to change once they meet the rest of the Sigma-17 rescue team, where they meet Blades and Boulder, or when they hit Griffon Rock and discover their new mission— and it doesn’t, as they predicted so.

(It’s a touch curious and a bit of a wonder how neither Boulder nor Blades discovered their Amica status before Griffon Rock. It’s not like either we’re being particularly subtle, but they supposed that their combined general professionalism probably skewed the other two bots’ perception of them, and any private time between themselves was usually during recharge time, or so subtly done that it was overlooked. Chase would find it funny if he wasn’t so concerned about his friends perceptiveness.)

Apparently, after scanning their new vehicle modes, Chase and Heatwave’s frame temperature translated, to a degree, to the inside of their cabins. This doesn’t necessarily cause a bad problem, but, minor complications do arise.

Sometimes, Kade would gripe about the heat during the summer months, complaining that the heat made him sticky. Sometimes, Chief Burns would be a touch chilled when first entering Chase’s cab, though he never really commented on such.

Both were easily fixed and placated with the flick of a dial that had the Chief murmuring gratefully, sinking in to the warmth with a subtle but firm pat to the dashboard. On the other hand, it had Kade and Heatwave grouching at each other loudly until Heatwave finally cranked the AC as high as it would go, and, in a most petulant manner, they would spat for a few minutes longer, then acquiesce; although both Chase and Cody were proud to announce the fact that these spats and arguments had become fewer in frequency over the course of time, a fact that they took immense satisfaction in: it meant they were getting along, working together, tolerating each other’s presence. They still fought, surely, because that’s just who they were as people (and cybertronian).

(Chase would not divulge Heatwave’s late-night ramblings about his parter, ranging from words not meant for the likes of little audials, to worries about his human friend. Heatwave was shudder-to-think that Kade would actually realize that Heatwave listens to him, much less cares about him, in the covertly roundabout way that Heatwave does when he meets new people that seem to grow on him. Yes, Chase was sure Heatwave’s quiet affections were born out of nothing but pure concern about the fragileness of his squishy human partner and the rest of the Burns family.)

At the end of the day, when they had the time to spare and a near-certain guarantee of no impending emergencies to disrupt them, Heatwave would sit on the bot-sized couch, Chase’s helm cradled delicately in his lap, and they could bask in each others’ presence and talk in their native vernacular, occasionally watching human TV or reading datapads and books alike. Of course, they would swap positions interchangeably— it all depended on how the two felt on that particular night.

Heatwave’s heat would leach into Chase’s cool, and the two mechs would sit there, basking in the steady, familiar equilibrium of their soothed sparks and evenly-temperatured frames.

Sometimes, one of them would instead lay down on the couch like it was a squishy berth, and the other could lay on top, trading coolness for warmth (and vise versa), and let the steadiness wash over them, EM fields melding lazily, and systems shutting down to fall into an easy, quiet recharge.

It was peaceful. Routine, when they could afford it. Nice, even, though they would argue on separate fronts that any one-on-one time with their Amica was beyond just “nice”.

It was the perfect way to recharge, Heatwave thought, never one to shy away from physical affection (in the many gruff forms he typically dished it out in) with someone he loved. If Chase could have it his way, they would do this every night, holding servos and muttering halting words and conversations half-thought out to each other into the gentle quiet of the bunker.

Chase’s normally rigid, borderline inexpressive field going almost wiggly and boneless, blanketing over them as he grumbled tiredly over his Amica, shifting as he knocked their helms together gently in a spur of the moment bout of (what sometimes felt like an overwhelming amount of) affection.

Heatwave gave his servo a gentle squeeze, making soothing little sounds to calm the policebot back into recharge and settling his own field over the two of them, engine purring quietly in contentment. Heatwave was quick to glare and snap at any of the other bots that might come near them that were in the “living room” part of the bunker with them, mostly for fear that they might make a nasty comment on their admittedly compromising condition, though that happening in and of itself was a rare occurrence due to the timing of their little quiet moments, and the sheer respect the other two held for them.

It was actually Boulder who found them the first time it happened on Earth, Heatwave recharging so deeply his engine was stuttering, with his helm cradled in Chase’s lap with one of Chase’s servos supporting his neck plating.

Boulder had stopped and looked, eyeridge quirking up in a decidedly learned human gesture, to which Chase merely brushed him off with a wave of his free servo and a flick of his field dismissively, returning to his datapad. Boulder, ever the calm, non-confrontational mech, had never mentioned it after the fact, drawing his own conclusions in the privacy of his mind (with maybe a few snapped photos for his memory files, just in case).

The second time, it was Blades who found them, Chase soundly recharging while leaning against Heatwave, their servos clasped between one another even in his recharge. Heatwave glanced up from the TV and glared at Blades with a viciousness that would earn him a scolding later, who skittered off without a word of question, a touch too skittish to try and ask the angry firemech until much, much later.

Heatwave was protective and touchy when it came to his Amica and their status, sue him.

Over the months, Boulder finally gathered some courage to ask Chase about their potential relationship, with all the grace of a thudding ballerina.

“We’re Amica Endura,” Chase had simply said after Boulder’s shy, stuttered question, almost smiling and most definitely pleased with himself, if the way tender emotion seeping onto his faceplate was any indication, “and have been for many vorns.”

“I see,” Boulder had replied, grinning and nodding, grateful that admittedly tactless way he asked the question hadn’t upset the policebot. “You two were partners back in the Academy.” It’s more of a statement than a question, prodding at the prospective double-meaning of the word.

“Heatwave was the only mech who wanted to be around me back in the Academy, given my… unique circumstances.”

“Unique—? Oh. Right. Sorry, Chase, I didn’t—“ realize, didn’t remember, didn’t know it affected your life like that— a frown, field tugging in, then Chase’s reassurance:

“It’s quite alright, Boulder. No bodily damage or any vulgar obscenities said, as the Chief says.”

“You mean ‘no harm, no foul’, Chase?” Heatwave entered the room with thudding pedesteps, looking between the two with half-formed suspicion lingering in his optics, arms crossed right against his chest. “What’s this about?” His field tugged at Chase’s with question and apprehension lingering between them, a silent what’s going on both said and not.

“Boulder was just inquiring about our Amica Endura status,” Chase informs, tone bordering on bright, his audial twitching in a different direction— most likely he heard something from upstairs, “And I find that we are the most probable source of reliable information about the subject, Heatwave, and our friend was merely curious.”

“Right.” Heatwave grunted, field tugging Chase’s briefly in something like relief and acceptance before patting his shoulder armor firmly and moving on, the brief contact exchanging both pleasant warmth and much-needed coolness.

“I think he’s a little…” Boulder trailed off, searching for a word that was less-rude than “prickly” or “overly worried”.

“Protective?” Chase hummed in question, helm tilting to the side, “I feel the same, but it is entirely warranted, given our past, and he is my Amica.” Chase says, like it explains everything, and, well, maybe it did, “I will stick by him, rites-willing.”

Boulder smiled in that soft, knowing way of his, optics warm. “Must be nice, having a sparkner all this time. I’m glad you have each other.”

“As am I. I’m grateful to have Heatwave for so long, and I’m want for nothing more in a partner.”

“That’s awfully sweet,” Bounder’s field went all soft, his affection tugging at Chase’s stiff field. “You balance each other out, now that I think about it.” Remembering all of the times Chase was able to calm Heatwave when he was on an irate, angry warpath with a servo to the shoulder plate and some hushed words exchanged in soft Cybertronian; all of the times Chase was stuck in a cyclical, logical thought-process and couldn’t see things from a different light had Heatwave telling him the facts point-blank, trying to drill his way through and urging Chase to attack the issue from a different, still somewhat logical connection.

Now that he thinks about it, Boulder recalls how Heatwave was always the mech that ran the warmest when they were on the Sigma, practically radiating heat in the endless, desolate cold of space that even they could feel. Chase was always the coldest, seemingly emanating a unique sort of cool that seemed permeated the space around him in some circumstances.

Opposites, indeed. But, Boulder thought, it was kind of fitting. Chase’s mouth tugged into that half-grin of his, “That we do. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Boulder, I have some studying to do.” And with that, Chase sauntered off, likely in search of his police manual.

“Huh. Wonder how we didn’t see it before.” Boulder mumbled to himself, shaking his helm fondly and turning around to go back to the bunker through the garage.

“See what?” Blades asked, turning the corner, “If there’s any gossip, I want to know!” Primus, he was sounding more and more like Dani every day.

“I, uh. Well, you see,” Boulder attempted, still unsure if the two Amicas wanted their relationship aired out.

Blades shot him a look, both teasing and intrigued. “Well?”

Scrap.

[natelia-aldelliz]

Gah we're in June already which means I'm entering my yearly✨getting older anxiety✨

And I keep forgetting during the rest of the year how annoying June is, like I'm happily going on about how my favourite month is June, because I always forget how it's the start of the heatwaves, and the mosquitoes, and not being able to sleep at night, and sweating, and drinking all day long because I'm losing more water than usual because I'm fucking sweating and I hate drinking water, and djfjskdjsksl

On another note I got a bit carried away... I suddenly got inspired to make a sort of spin-off for the cat soap fic, where each chapter is from the point of view of another character, with like, little moments, some background information, some Ghost's pov for parts of the actual fic that people were asking me about, this kind of stuff....

And the first chapter, which I'm writing right now, is about Price, and it was supposed to be some background and will-they won't-they with Nikprice, but I accidentally gave him imposter syndrome and now the chapter is over 5k words and I'm not finished yet 😭

[baekhvuns]

HIIII BAEKSSSSS I missed you 😔 how are you? Wsp? How's everything?

Man, I've been pretty peaceful I'd say..kinda idk. Maybe the calm before the storm but that's besides the point. I miss your work so so so much 🥹🥹🥹 like rlly, not wanting to pressurise you just GIRL RLLY MADE 2022 SUCH A GOOD EXPERIENCE.

Anyways I've been watching a ton of stuff ofc, found a new pakistani drama 😈😈 well it's kind of the same plot as u wld guess, but I like this one it's like if not a lot then a bit diff frm the same ass dynamic. It's like a first daughter x youngest son the fun part is it was supposed to be, first daughter x first son but he was a jerk and a red flag. So yes...it'd be fun, it's a silly dynamic imo ik for sure there are going to be a ton banters.

ALSO dude these asmr Rps be getting Outta hand 😭 Nah cz i cried. I CRIED. THE ANGST OHHHHH. Some asmr artists are just so fucking good like alanakamakwk i felt like I was in a movie.

Lemme tell u a bit abt it, so the concept was basically, an old bsf comes back into the listener's life not in a bad way or anything just cz the bsf lived farrrrr away.

"do you wanna see the new tattoo i got?"

LIKE OKAY and then we did trace them too and a while later the convo goes deep "i got this tattoo bcz u told me seven years ago, what you don't rmr?" And then he sort of reminisces over the old times

"and that day..I went home, and texted you how much I liked you. And wanted to hang out with you a bunch.."

"that didn't happen I never texted you."

BRO OMG OMG ONWKWJWKW IM TELLING YOU THE FREAKIN TENSION BW ME AND MY HEADPHONES.

And then the best part was the listeners bf calls who also used to be friends with the bsf, and goes "i love you."

In hopes of hearing it frm us too. "Dear...?" Silence.

NO CUZ IMAGINE STANDING IN FRONT OF SOMEONE U ACTUALLY LOVE AND U GOTTA SAY ILY TO YOUR BF WHAT??? OMG.

And then when he comes out to go run errands he talks to the bsf AKA THE ASMR ARTIST I TELL U HIS VOICE *melts*

"we'll see you right?"

"... farewell"

That's the visual representation of me I'm not even kidding. And....he just leaves. LIKE THAT?? WHAT ABOUT US AHHHH *dies*

Nah but yes, I've been obsessed now. At least it makes me feel something 😮‍💨

Ok also no way my old Bollywood obsession is dying anytime soon *listens to bol na halke halke*

Anyways bye bye baeks MAKE SURE TO TELL ME ABT YOURSELF HOW U DOING AND STUFF OK?? OK MWAH ILY 🤭

YOU SENT THIS LAST WEEK AND I JUST KIND OF LOGGED INFBWNDBSK SO SORRY

i hope you’re doing well!! i’m currently sick bc of a heatwave i caught at a wedding 🥰🥰

i’m glad you’re feeling peaceful! AND DHSKDHKW DONT MENTION IT FNDMSKC ITS BEEN 2 YEARS 😭😭😭 maybe my writing bug just dimmed LMFAOOOO haven’t been on here or read anything, ive been in my drafts just giggling and reading but never like posting or writing fbdndb but ive kind of, maybe wanting to write something for fall time which i’m not sure ill post but it’s got me smiling a bit!

WHAT IS THE SHOW TELL ME 🔫

omg i can never get behind asmr, i have this thing called misophonia, i just despise the way the arm sounds make my ears feel fmandksb i just feel triggered BUT U CRIED BC OF IT WHY 😭😭

u gotta send me the link of it bc the voice actor u say… 👁

does our bollywood obsession rly die 😭😭 the new tauba tauba got me going a bit crazy,,, heard the jannat bgm but sad version and iM OBSESSED WITH IT, it lowkey inspired me to think and write <3 got me giggling and imaging stuff <3 in my pillow fbwndbsj

[castlebyersafterdark]

Babe you need to write more smut. You’re an incredible writer period but also as someone who finds a lot of smut cringe worthy or scroll worthy, I thoroughly enjoyed every bit of that one fic you wrote.

Awwwwww oh geez thank you 🥹 I'm writing a TON when I find the time, I have so many little ideas. I've always written fic and very much enjoyed it, but I've never been super confident about it? Just my little extended ideas for whatever I've been into at the time, nothing special. But something about this show really really inspired me and I'm having so much more fun writing than I ever have writing these little smut fics. I'm really trying to not scatterbrain around but people keep sending me really good prompts and I jump into another drabble that turns into several thousand words.

Next up as a preview, I'm more than halfway through a prompt someone sent about "what about byler fucking in a hammock" and well. It's that. I'm also pretty far into my 'Heatwave in NYC and Will seduces Mike in sexy underwear' story. A lot of fun on the horizon if I can focus and finish writing one. at. a. time.

[namazunomegami]

ahhh sorry, the heatwave fic i meant was the fic you reblogged, that three-part one, "affection's edge". i only saw it because i was following you, and when i realized you were the one who reblogged it i was like "this is the SAME BRAND",, same brain cell

i think i read your "into the void" fic on ao3 before i found you on tumblr... that's happened to me a lot in this fandom. but i am suuuch a sucker for the religious allegories. "your serpent will always think it was right to bite" just hits absolutely diff.

geto is basically moral imperatives: the character. he goes full genocide and he sounds so calm and rational and legitimately?? healed??? by the decision?? he can believably be so many things because he's figured out the magnet hack with the moral compass baby.

it's really fun hearing about the backstory for the reader in that fic, too! the sheer utility value of having cursed energy gps, especially for geto who eats curses... and god. teen geto was a very sensitive and perceptive person who read others super well. he really was!

every idea i have lately has turned into this multichapter saga shdflkshdg it KILLS me but it's so fun thinking of backstories and abilities and how they could tie into their relationships with the characters!

i hope both of us can finish some wip someday,,, jhfgksdhg the struggle is SO REAL. but one day!

OH YOU MEANT CIELO'S FIC??

Now, I get it, I'm sorry for rambling about my Yuta fic lmao.

I love Cielo's works and the way she writes Geto. If I want a bit of inspiration or when I'm struggling with my own fics, I always visit her blog and read her stuff. I think we both like to characterize him as a kind of twisted caretaker but her Geto is a bit more playful than mine, and more upfront about his awful antics against the reader. And I absolutely love it! 💕

Yeah, I like religious symbolism a lot too, I can get my own religious trauma out of my system so I guess it's both beneficial to me and my audience too lol. But that part you're quoting from my fic is actually a little symbolistic tale about victims of abuse and their relationship to their abuser. The story is about that sometimes it's futile to make your abuser admit to the damage they caused and instead, you should focus on yourself and your healing. But it sounded kinda cool so I took it and reworked it a bit to fit into the narrative.

I like writing backstories for the readers even if I don't include it in the fic. But it actually helps a lot to have an idea about them, what kind of environment they come from, what they bring into the dynamic and why etc. It's easier to handle the dynamic if I have a general idea about how they got together with the character, what makes them attached to each other and stuff. Maybe I do this because I've been writing a lot of OC x canon stuff where you must establish the background of your character, make them fit into the canon and well... make it make sense why the character is into your OC.

I'm trying my best to restrain myself and not to start yapping about the dynamic of jjk OC and Geto because... oh boy... I do love to talk about my imaginary babies.

I really like that idea! It makes so much sense for Geto bringing reader to track down curses so he can add them to his collection. Cute date idea! But honestly, I came up with reader's technique when I was half-way done with the first part, completely out of the blue. But I do remember there was a headcannon post about how different cursed techniques reveal something crucial/sensitive about the character or how they can be interpreted as a coping/defense mechanism and that post probably influenced me a little bit.

And like... I don't want to spoil my own fics, but in the dilf!Geto fic, reader's curse technique kinda similar to his technique but it's not like curse manipulation 2.0. Similarities are important in this dynamic I can tell this much.

I was also a member of the multichapter madness gang but I got frustrated that I can't complete any one of them. I still have a Jerome Valeska fic, I love it with all my heart, it's packed with so much dark content but it still needs 8 chapters to be wrapped up (the whole fic is 26 chapters long with the unwritten ones). Aaaand I published the first chapter in 2021 so it deserves a rewrite too. I would rather write a really long one shot with lot of exposition and buildup to have higher chance of finishing it in the future. I mostly just keep the details, the fun facts and the backstories to myself, hoping for somebody like you to share them 💕

[threejadesoflan]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN.

respond to the prompts out of character!

what made you pick up the current muse(s) you have? The answer, as ever, is brainrot. I fell down the danmei rabbit hole after getting the MDZS manhua and am to blame for dragging frexiasought down with me, but it's her who convinced me to make the blog and try writing some of my favourites. That said, I still want to write fanfiction with them too.

is there anything you don’t like to write? Character or ship bashing. I'll never enjoy reading it, and I refuse to write it. Obviously some characters are antagonists, but I'm so tired of Jiang Cheng bashing and Lan Xichen or Lan Qiren bashing. I didn't leave the FE community just to see the same things here.

is there anything you really enjoy writing? Maybe it's because I'm an old woman, but recently I've come to LOVE family content. Mu Qing's style of running his Palace is based on sect culture but also on that. And in general I just LOVE good sibling dynamics.

how do you come up with headcanons? Primarily brainwaves. Typically I bounce these brainwaves off of my notes app or Eva before I finalise them, but there's no telling what prompts some of those. They might come while I'm reading/watching, but also out of the blue while I'm working or showering. I do, however, also have a history of reading fanfics, spotting headcanons or portrayals I enjoy, and stealing them for myself (often with a bit of readjusting to better fit my own purposes). I'm not proud of stealing, and I try to credit the og fics if it applies, but I'm not above admitting it. 

do you write in silence or do you play music? I tend to have speedruns open at all times when I'm home, so I listen to that. Otherwise I typically have music going, though I usually can't sit still when listening to music. I detest silence, though.

do you plan your replies or wing them? I typically wing them. Usually I'll have an idea of how to respond when I first see the post/ask I'm responding to, but as to how I execute that thought and add to it, that's winged. Wung?

do you enjoy shipping? Recently I've come to enjoy more platonic relationships more, but I will always be a shipping whore. I think that my aromantic ass lives vicariously through fictional characters.

what’s your alias/name? BP!

age? I just turned 31 this year and I feel like a relic of an ancient civilisation.

birthday? Mid February.

favorite color? Red and black, judging from my warhammer armies.

favorite song? I go back and forth. Wuji (XiaoZhan and WangYibo version) is very high up there atm though.

last movie you watched? Kingsman. My brother insisted I had to, as a self-respecting Bachelor of English Literature, and he was right.

last show you watched?  I'm actually in the middle of watching the Untamed with Eva! It's a lot better than I expected, the actors very clearly understood the characters they're portraying.

last song you listened to? According to my youtube history, something from the Golden Sun Dark Dawn OST.

favorite food? I would commit a crime for the asian-inspired soups from a local noodle joint.

favorite season? Cranky old woman doesn't like any season. I go from hay fever season into cold season. I'd say autumn, but the cycling roads get super dangerous and the low-hanging sun blinds me. So probably summer, outside of heatwave time, bc both school and work tend to settle down around that time.

do you have a tumblr best friend? Pep and Eva for sure!

[araneitela]

A canon-strict and lore-heavy portrayal of Kafka from Honkai: Star Rail, written by Sae (30+). It is worthy to note that my writing for her does not take anything from Honkai Impact 3rd. Instead, you will find selective inspiration drawn from her namesake, Franz Kafka, as the choice of name is certainly no happenstance. Furthermore, my activity here will also be sporadic and will fluctuate, due to my time being split between here, Yelan, and Guizhong.

The phonograph record is being played, spinning nonstop. Even the sounds of all those hoarse shrieks cannot escape the heatwave and are dampened by its tepidity. She seemed unprepared and utterly enthralled by the fascinating melodies: it started with sincerity and anticipation, followed by a passionate catharsis, with one climax after another... Until the record's spinning came to a final stop and those hoarse shrieks were no longer audible.

Mains: daybreakrising. resolutepath. hxkerwxlf. astrxlfinale. avaere. apocryphis.

Quick Navigation: Threads. Meta 1 (2) Memes. Mains Self promo. Inbox call. Rules under the cut if you prefer a dash view of them!

Writer/Disclaimer. I'm Sae, I just hit and entered the dirty 30s and while I was born and raised in Rotterdam, in the Netherlands, I currently live in France, which places me in the GMT+1 timezone. I'm a proud Frenchie in both heart and mind, and I'm your (apparently) a typical INTJ. My experience with this concept that we call 'life' has gotten me to bear a fair bit of unpopular opinions 'round these parts of Tumblr, but I have always been taught the extreme importance of respect and civility, and so I practice them both commonly. Extreme topics aside; disagreeing with another person is perfectly okay. Discussion is good.

Forget all about fanon. Before anything else, I cannot iterate how desperately I urge you to forget any and all fanon takes of the character of Kafka if you choose to look through my blog. I do not adhere to 95% of the fandom's takes on Kafka. But it's also incredibly important to note that I am exceedingly canon-strict, which means that, well, apparently fanon and I just strongly disagree; this seems to be a consistent thing with me. My portrayal of Kafka touches on a modern woman, meshed in with a very archaic and conservative traits and tropes. She is not a dominatrix, she is not power-hungry nor does she flaunt her power, she is not a hater of men, she is not some sex goddess, and by all that is holy and unholy, Kafhime will not find any sort of reign here. In other words, please take Kafka's own words before you dilly-dally your way through my blog: you won't remember a thing except me. In other words, forget everything fanon has ever taught you.

Mains. I practice them, and you can find all the information needed over here!

Shipping/Romance. I'm exceedingly particular about ships beyond canonically confirmed pairings, and quite honestly, while I write my own fair share of romance-oriented threads and love to do so, I don't go out of my way to seek to write such material. Now, Hoyo is rather good at keeping a lot stuck in insinuations, but I am an avid shipper of both Kafblade and KafCae. If these aren't up to your fancy, that's quite alright, I have tags that I tie to all posts that relate to either that allow you to blacklist them if it's preferable to you. Any judgment will be promptly deleted, as I'm quite frankly not here for it. Now, I'm not stuck to merely to those ships, but I'm a very firm believer in chemistry, development and realism. It is worthy to note however, while I can ship Kafka perfectly fine with women, I do not ship Kafhime, nor am I fond of Kafstel. No, in regards to the latter: I don't hate women, I simply think that there's an immense significance to the power dynamic when it comes to Kafka.

Social Politics/Etc. This is incredibly simple: your mess is your mess and it is no one else's. Take it to the dashboard and I will unfollow you. I'm too old and too tired for this, I don't do and never have done call-out culture, I don't do anon-hate, I don't do pettiness, guilt-tripping and quite frankly, I have zero interest in seeing people take advantage of having an audience of followers to air any kind of dirty laundry in front of. I'm simply not here for it. In other words, I will unfollow you if you're guilty of any of this. And also, as it's happened in the past— I do not and will not engage in white-knighting of any kind whatsoever, and this rule counts, again, regardless of my connection with you.

[poisonflowercorvidae]

Would you ever consider doing a sequel of the kadewave series? What about the new bittie? I bet she would be the apple of her daddies eye’s (daughters tend to generate that effect, most of the time). Also, Hot Shot would totally love his sis too....

That's definitely my plan eventually, but it depends on time and inspiration. Right now, it has to contend with my work schedule and several other WIPs I still have in my files, but sometimes the desire to write a specific fic will possess me.

Kade is a doting dad for sure, while Heatwave usually is a bit more strict, though he's a cuddly teddy bear underneath that. They adore Hot Shot, and they absolutely will Spitfire, too.

The age/maturity difference could go either way: Hot Shot might find her unbearably annoying or might be protective and doting himself. He'll love her for sure, but there's room to play with what the exact sibling dynamic they'll have.

(Since Hot Shot takes more after Kade, I'm thinking Spitfire takes more after Heatwave)

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Bone Dry

Part of the Goth fic anthology.

Summary: Regina goes from ghost town to ghost town hunting down a coyote beast to avenge her dead Daniel whose ghost follows along.

It’s got some Kathryn/Regina. Little shoutout to @snowingfairytale for inspiring me to write for the pair.

Heatwaves ripple over a parched land, under a sun so sparingly golden. She can see his face in the mirage.

Sometimes he talks to her.

"Keep walking." He urges. "You're almost there." 

The scavengers, scrappy and scrawny devils, circle overhead, eyes skimming the sand for desert mice. Mice that they won't find here where the tumble weeds bounce. 

Desperation instills a spark of boldness, just enough that they consider picking the meat off of her bones. This far into her journey there isn't much to pick.

Regina half-walk, half-staggers over to the old water pump. Her mouth is as bone dry as the hissing, skittering sand. The heat makes her chest hurt while grains of sand burn her eyes. Rocinante isn't holding up much better. He follows along next to her, head hung. She hopes that she knows that she doesn't hold it against him, that he is too tired to carry her weight.

She wanders past the yellowing soul of a cattle, in which a rattlesnake has taken shelter. She envies its innovation. If this water pump is dry her own skull may well become another shelter for a rattlesnake. 

Sometimes she doesn't think that it would be so bad. She is already enduring the suffocating tightness in her chest. She is already enduring the bleeding cracks in her throat. She is already facing the scraps and scabs as merciless sand storms erode the skin upon her knuckles. She may as well have the bliss of death. 

She takes off her black gallon hat and fans herself with it.

On days like these she can feel Daniel again. He strokes her cheek, moves her hair out of her face--although that could be the work of the wind. "Keep on goin'" he tells her. "Keep on goin'." Just like he did when she'd lost their baby some years back. 

She reckons she don't mind it, her own mortality.

It brings her closer to Daniel than anything else does.

The closer she comes to death the easier it is to hear him, the more he talks to her. And he has been making conversation for several hours now, trying to comfort her as the sun reddens her sweat slicked skin. 

She, sapped of most energy, slumps to her knees.

Wind whistles through the skeletal remains of the old minetown, years past its use.

From somewhere within the village she can hear the creaky spinning of a wheel of an overturned wagon. The snake shakes it's rattle as she passes. Its eyes follow her to the pump. If she can just get a little bit…

If she is lucky, the miners would have vacated before drying up the reserve entirely.

She gives the handle a good pump. And when it begins to weep, so does she.

Daniel has led her here, he usually does when luck and intellect refuse to guide her. She likes to think that it is his way of thanking her for continuing to wear his ring and clutching that final letter he sent to her.

And for her vow to kill that coyote with the snow white fur.

She holds a beaten flask beneath its sputtering stream. She brings the flask to her lips and downs it with a fervent greed before refilling it. This is a task twice repeated before the water begins to run dry. She fills a second flask before it slows to just little drips. There is just enough for the horse.

She glances back at the rattlesnake.

 It won’t make a home of her skull today.

.oOo.

The smoldering metal of the railroad track throws sunlight back into the sky. Every now and then a blinding glint catches her eyes and she shields them with her hands. She follows alongside those broken rails until the navy of night begins to see the golds out.

She wanders until she reaches the outskirts of the dilapidated ghost town, to where the old train station rots, smoldering daily under the sun and in the sand. 

It isn't a place that she has been before and it isn't one that she will traverse again if she can help it.

But it is mighty familiar all the same and she knows that it is in the train station that she'd like to sleep. Rocinante is hesitant, he regards the decomposing building with the same skepticism as any other sensible creature.

Now and then the ghost trains whistle and rumble their way through. It keeps most other devils, demons, fiends, and barbed-booted bandits away. Everyone's afraid of a good ol ghost train. Everyone but her. Sometimes she fancies the idea of stealing one of those discolored tickets from the ticket booth and boarding one for herself. Let it spirit her away leaving nothing but that rumble-rattle like a stampede of iron cattle.

But she has a mission and it ain't through. She ain't gonna rest until that snow white coyote is fur and bones.

.oOo.

Nights are long, she sees those eyes between the cacti. They come in shades of devil red and he'll fire orange. They never come close but she can see them. They yip and yap under the stars. 

Regina draws a cigar from her pocket and lights it up. 

"You know I ain't like it when you do that." Daniel takes a seat next to her.

"You never did." She replies after exhaling that first drag. She takes her hat off and sets it in her lap. Really it isn't her hat, none of this is hers. Not the boots not the hat, not the lasso, nor the vest. Its all Daniel's. Only Rocinante is hers. She peers at the horse as he slinks away from the coyotes. Weren't she so short on ammo, she might shoot them all dead. She reaches into the pouch, hooked to her belt and feels for the bullet. Her special bullet. The one that Tiger Lily had handed her with a promise that it had all of the components and medicine man's blessings to kill her snow white coyote once and for all. "It won't get up if you put this between uts eyes, rip its heart out, and burn it while it still beats."

The coyotes yowl. "We'll get it Daniel…" she muses as she watches the smoke curl up to the stars. 

But Daniel is gone. 

"Looks like we ain't dying tonight, Rocinante." 

The horse whinnies and casts a doubtful look at the coyotes. They snarl and bare their teeth but the won't cross the tracks. 

She hears a metallic whistle off in the distance.

Lonely.

Mournful.

Desperate.

.oOo.

There is another letter in her pocket, resting there at her breast with Daniel's first love note. It keeps her company as she follows these coyote tracks into the entrance of a canyon. 

Is it her coyotes? She can't say for certain. She can't say why she is compelled to think that it is at all other than that those tracks have tracks of their own. Traces and residue, a ripple of death and desolation that radiates off of them.

Rocinante can smell it as surely as she can feel the sinister tingles in her bones.

Her pistol rests heavy at her hip, itching for the day it gets to fire her loathing and vengeance.

Tonight the pistol doesn't hum, it knows that it isn't its day. Rocinante snorts and Regina draws that second letter from its place. 

She needs to read it though she hates its words. The guilt that each slaps into her. 

Dearest love…

The woman always had such a flowery pretty way of speaking.

I suppose that I don't know where to begin. I thought to speak with you in person but settled for giving you booze on the house. 

I assure you that it was no friendly gesture,but a gesture of affection.

Have you loved before? 

I haven't seen you talk much to anyone.

Aloof and unapproachable. She supposes that she can understand why the woman would assume that she has always been that way. 

I'd like to talk to you sometime. Maybe occupy a space on your saddle one day. I've never rode a horse before. Father always said to avoid the cowboys.

He never mentioned a thing at all about cowgirls. 

Mischievous, clever woman.

When you're ready to stop being alone, I'll be at the saloon. I always am. My lunch is at high noon.

~ Kathryn 

And maybe things would be different were Regina capable of letting go. "Move on…" Kathryn always urged. But this is moving on…on and on and on. Onto the next ranch, ghost town,  and small town. Onwards until she can find the snow white coyote and put Daniel's unsettled spirit to rest. 

It'll be easier to lay with a new partner when her old one is gazing longingly. A spectral voyeur that laments and longs when the bed rocks. Phantom hands that caress her body where Kathryn's hands don't. 

She needs to put a faithful horse down once and for all. 

And then she can love again. She can go back to Kathryn and find a place in her bed, in her arms. Then she can have a home and a romance if the woman will still have her.

Likely she will return to Saddlebrook and find the woman settled down and cozy with some gentleman who'd struck lucky during the gold rush. A fellow like that ought to have a woman like Kathryn.

For now Regina will accept the desert and Rocinante as companions and the medicine man's bullet as her lover.

The moon is a thumbnail in the sky. For just a moment all is quiet. Moreover than the deadest of ghost towns. She pats Rocinante's neck and guides him into the canyon. 

Miles and miles back a train whistles, a water pump rusts, and a rattlesnake burrows into a cow skull.